#which also again is already a canon thing

[aithusarosekiller]

ABSOLUTELY RIDICULOUS INSANE JEGULUS AU IDEA

They meet in every life and love each other with their whole heart every time, they keep being reborn because their souls won't rest until they are able to live a long happy life and die together. But they can't do that until Tom Riddle -who is also being reborn repeatedly because his soul will not rest until he has found immortality and he cannot get that until Regulus stops trying to bloody kill him- is dead. James is completely unaware of the pattern and doesn't recall any of the past lives, he's constantly living in the dark, not knowing all the lives he's lived and all the time they'd spent loving and losing each other. Regulus remembers it all but it is in no way an advantage.

Because of the immortality thing, in every life he ends up being killed by Tom Riddle as he always ends up being a threat to Tom getting his immortality. In one life he's a king and Regulus is a jealous Lord in desire of his position. In another they are friends who are forced to fight to the death after being captured. Eventually Regulus notices the pattern and tries to purposefully kill Tom first or stay away from him entirely. Tom catches on too and begins to seek him out as quickly as possible. Tom starts becoming more obvious with his goal and Regulus decides that he'll stop him from becoming immortal no matter what it takes- especially if it means he gets to live a full life with James.

Then we reach canon, where Tom has had decades to search and wait for Regulus, allowing him to settle in and claim power before the threat arrives. Regulus is born unaware that Tom is already there, and so much stronger than him. He's so young that he assumes he won't meet Tom until much later. He has no idea Tom has assumed a new name. He loves James, then loses him for the cause. It's devastating but it's what be believes.

Until he starts to piece things together. Lord Voldemort starts talking about immortality and souls. And he starts to notice that something is wrong. He realises that he's been led into Tom's trap and Tom is closer to his goal this time than ever before. He uses Kreacher, locates the horcrux, and goes to the cave. He knows he will likely not get much further but he'll do anything to stop Tom from winning this eternal feud. He expects that he'll be personally hunted out and killed. What he did not take into account was that the inferi do not have their own souls or identities, they are full of his magic, which is a part of him, meaning Tom once again killed him before he could even leave the cave.

And when Harry kills Tom, the cycle only repeats in the next life.

[shurisneakers]

unsolved (ix)

Summary: Bucky doesn't even believe in the paranormal. So who the hell thought it was a good idea to stick him in a series about everything haunted for the internet's amusement? With his loose-canon of a teammate who has no concept of subtlety or shits left to give, to make things even worse. (Buzzfeed unsolved AU)

Warnings: swearing, frustrated bucky, obnoxious reader, groups of people that believe in the paranormal

A/N: im sorry i disappeared i am employed now and also i am depressed. anyway pls lemme know what u guys think i love reading comments and screaming and everything you have to say MWAH. next one is a big one boys

Previous part || Series masterlist

Bucky wakes up to a weary, bone-deep sense of dread.

Not the kind of dread that means a sniper is lurking outside his window. No, this is a very specific kind of dread that sets in suddenly, altogether at once.

He knows exactly what it means. 

You are about to ruin his day.

His eyes flicker open, adjusting to the light filtering through his windows. 

The floor is quiet. Too quiet, almost. 

Alpine is curled on the windowsill, tail flicking idly. But he finds her staring at him already with mild judgment, as if she knows exactly what’s about to happen.

Bucky rubs a hand down his face, exhaling. He doesn’t know why he feels like this, because you’d taken to simply texting him the location these days, and then banging on his door. 

It was routine. He’d come to expect it. Like it, even, the way someone likes mundane sounds such as the buzz of the microwave heating up their lunch everyday. 

Except there’s a sudden, loud slam against his window.

Alpine launches off the windowsill, scrambling away with a hiss. 

Bucky is out of bed before his brain catches up. Years of instinct launch him into motion as he grips the knife under his pillow, pivots toward the sound– 

And sees you.

Hovering. Three stories up.

Waving.

Bucky full-body recoils and it takes everything in him not to launch his fucking knife at the window. 

He glares at you, barely awake, trying to process the absolute absurdity of this moment.

You tap your wrist like a watch, mouthing, "Video shoot."

Bucky turns around and launches a pillow at the window, furiously mouthing back, “I hope you fall.”

You grin.

His furiousness turns to raging annoyance at best. Which, in turn, makes him angry again. 

Just as he’s about to throw something heavier, FRIDAY dims the window until you fade from view. He doesn’t know who FRIDAY is protecting. 

Bucky collapses back onto his mattress.

He contemplates ignoring you again, but experience has taught him that only makes things worse.

Five minutes later, he’s stomping down the stairs. 

Bucky yanks open the car door and slides into the passenger seat.

Wordlessly, he shoves a coffee in your direction.

You blink at it. “How do you know my coffee order?”

Bucky grunts. “Do you want it or not?”

You take it, narrowing your eyes as you watch him chug it like it’s water. “Coffee doesn’t even work on you. Why do you drink it?”

He pauses mid-sip.

You tilt your head. "Do you even like the taste?"

Bucky slowly stares at the coffee like it personally wronged him, because no, he’s coming to realise that didn’t really like it. 

“…No,” he allows slowly. 

“Then why are you drinking it?”

His grip tightens around the cup. He doesn’t have a good answer, so he doesn’t look at you.

“Bought it,” he grumbles. ‘M gonna drink it.” 

“Sunken cost fallacy, right there,” you hum. “You bought it, so now you have to suffer through it. That’s a weird thing you do, y'know.”

Bucky exhales sharply, already done with this conversation. “It’s just coffee.”

“It’s just coffee,” you agree, watching him out of the corner of your eye. “And you just can’t let yourself pick something else. You a glutton for punishment?”

He scowls, taking another sip of the stupid beverage he didnt expect to be having a crisis over in the evening. 

"Whole world of warm drinks out there, Barnes. You ever tried chai? A matcha? You could be a matcha guy."

"No."

"You could be drinking hot chocolate. I think you'd like that. Marshmallows and everything.”

Bucky grips his cup harder.

"Hell, even warm lemonade would be a better choice."

Bucky scrunches his nose at the thought of warm lemonade and chugs his coffee out of spite.

You shake your head. “Whatever. Drink your hot bean water then.”

Silence stretches. The car hums down the highway. The weight of whatever he’s been avoiding lingers in the air between you.

Only five minutes later does it occur to him to ask.

“Where are we going?”

You shoot him a wide smile. “To make you some friends.”

Bucky closes his eyes. “I have friends.”

“You have Sam. And Steve.”

“Sam and Steve are enough.”

“Sam and Steve are legally obligated to be your friends.”

Bucky side-eyes you. “That’s not how friendship works.”

“You’d be surprised.”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. "Is this another haunted house? ‘Cause if it is, I'm staying in the car."

"No haunted house."

"Then what?"

You drum your fingers on the wheel. "We're going to check out the fastest-growing paranormal club in the city."

Bucky exhales through his nose, mentally preparing himself. 

"What’s the scam?" he deadpans.

"No scam." You pause. "Well, maybe a little scam. But I’m choosing to believe in the inherent goodness of humanity."

Bucky glances at you. “What kind of scam?”

“Maybe you’ll find yourself today, y’know? Maybe you’ll even be a treasured member of this club.” 

Bucky leans all the way back in his seat, shutting his eyes before he has an aneurysm. 

The location is exactly as sketchy as Bucky expected.

Which, to be clear, is very. 

A run-down community center at the edge of the city, sandwiched between a failing laundromat and a storage facility that definitely has bodies in it. 

The parking lot has three cars, two of which are missing doors. The third is a white van with no plates.

Bucky stares at it. “I’m staying in the car.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You can get your organs harvested. I’m not in the mood for that today.”

“We are not getting our organs harvested.” 

“We are about to walk into a situation that requires a white van with no plates.”

You tap the steering wheel. “You’re focusing on the wrong details.”

“Oh? What fuckin’ details should I be focusing on?”

You refuse to make eye contact. “I will not be taking questions at this time.”

A sign by the door says:

WELCOME, SEEKERS OF THE TRUTH.

Bucky points at it. “What the fuck is that?”

“They’re just seekers, Buck.” You unbuckle. “They’re seeking. Let them seek.”

“That’s not what that means.”

“They have over five hundred members in their Facebook group.”

Bucky rubs a hand down his face. “The Boogeyman fan club has eight thousand, so what?”

“Okay, but to be fair— Boogeyman’s hot.”

Bucky stares at you.

You stare back, unblinking.

“Do you want me to respond to that?”

“Only if you agree.”

Bucky inhales slowly, counting to ten.

Still, he gets out of the car. Because he always does.

The guy at the door looks exactly like someone who would be enthusiastic about this kind of thing. Whatever it was. 

Late twenties, cargo pants, black t-shirt, and… a cape. He stands in the doorway like he’s personally responsible for deciding who gets to know the truth.

Bucky is already exhausted.

You, however, are delighted.

“Hi!” you chirp, walking up to him. “We’re The Gra–”

Instead, the guy squints. “Hold on. I know you. You’re from TV.”

“Uh, yeah, he is–” you glance at Bucky, who glares at you for throwing him under the bus, but it’s not like you had been set up for interviews just yet or had any major public saves like the Battle of Earth. You operated on a scale similar to Spiderman until now. The Avengers were really just your first big corporate job. 

“No, I recognise you,” he looks pointedly at Bucky, before narrowing his eyes. “You got no reason to be out here–”

A few years ago Bucky’s shoulders would have tensed immediately, already bracing for the inevitable Winter Soldier comment.  

“Hey now,” you force a smile onto your face. 

“--showing your face in public,” the guy continues, gearing up. 

“Okay,” Bucky says, because he’s dealt with enough of public vitriol to really have it faze him anymore.

You prepare to take a step in front of him, body stiff. “Now let’s not get–”

“After breaking her heart like that? Shame on you.”

Bucky blinks. You also blink, steps halting.

“I’m sorry, whose heart?” he asks, looking between you and the guy.

The guy snaps his fingers.  "You're the one on that show. Love Island, aren’t ya?”

Bucky’s entire soul exits his body.

He blinks. Once. Twice. 

He processes the words and does not fucking understand them.

The guy nods, like he’s just cracked a case. “Yeah. My girlfriend fucking hates you, bro.”

Bucky opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again.

You, on the other hand, look like this is the greatest single living moment of your life. “Oh my god, Barnes.”

Bucky looks to the sky for help. None arrives.

“What the fuck is a Love Island?”

The guy crosses his arms. “Deny it all you want, man. But we all saw what you did to Lulu.”

“I was literally a prisoner of war for seventy years.”  

“And yet,” you say, eyes twinkling with evil delight, “you still had time to emotionally devastate a woman named Lulu on national television.”

Bucky turns to you, betrayed. “Who the fuck is Lulu?”

The guy shakes his head in disappointment. “Shame on you, man.”

You clap the guy on the shoulder. “You’re so right– what’s your name? Troy? You’re so right, Troy. Bucky here thinks just because he has a pretty face and a rockin’ bod, he can break hearts without consequences.”

“What the fuck is a Love Island?” Bucky asks in despair. 

“Ashamed of what gave you your fame?” You click your roof to the top of your mouth. “People would do anything for the opportunity to be shirtless on a beach for three months–”

“Someone tell me what the fuck a Love Island is.” Bucky drags a palm across his face.

“It’s not you? Oh.” Troy deflates, glancing at you instead. “Are you the one from Love Island then?”

“I wish.” You pull your lips into a straight line. “Some people just aren’t grateful for the chance they’re given.”

“Oh wait. I recognise you, you're from that ghost show.” He brightens up again, wagging his finger at you. “My niece loves you.”

You nudge Bucky in excitement at the news, as if you hadn’t induced fifteen years worth of self-hatred into him twenty seconds ago. “Tell your niece she's got great taste.”

He nods briefly. “So, what are you doing here?” 

“We heard this is the fastest-growing paranormal group in the city. Just wanted to check it out.”

The guy perks up immediately. “Oh yeah! The Ghost’s energy is real strong tonight. Dennis said he’s been slamming Monster Energy all day, so the vibes are there, man.”

Bucky’s expression does not change. “Who is Dennis?”

“Our medium.”

You nod sagely. “Of course.”

“He’s got a newsletter. You wanna subscribe?”

“Gee, I sure do,” Bucky says dryly.

You elbow him. “We wanted to join the club first.”

“Alright,” he chirps. “I’m sure Dennis won't mind. Meeting starts in ten minutes. You can grab your cloaks by the door and head on in.”

Bucky stops. “Cloaks?”

“Yeah, it's imperative to the Ghost that we dress the same.”

“Absolutely fucking–” 

“Don't worry about him, he's only upset that he didn't get to bring his own cloak,” you interject immediately. “It came free with his coffin and some sunscreen.”

Bucky steps on your foot. You give him a small kick.

“Alright, well, you can have ours. It’s usually five bucks each but I’ll let it slide if you sign something for my niece,” Troy says. “If you're filming, please keep the flash off.”

“You got it, boss,” you salute.

The guy shrugs. “Meeting starts in ten. You can drink from the chalice and head on in.”

Bucky immediately locks onto that second part. “The what?”

The guy pulls out a black goblet filled with dark red liquid.

Bucky immediately takes a step back.

The guy holds it out. “It’s the Ghost’s essence. Dennis prepares it before every meeting.”

Bucky and you stare at it.

You lean in, sniffing inconspicuously. “What ingredients are in the Ghost’s… essence?” 

The guy shrugs. “Dunno. Dennis just goes into a room, talks to the Ghost for a bit, and comes back with this. It’s different every time.”

Bucky’s stare is flat. “Oh yeah. That’s normal.”

“Here, try.”

Bucky does not move. “I’m allergic.”

“To what?”

“Yes.”

The guy frowns. “You haven’t even tasted it–”

“I’m allergic,” Bucky repeats. “Real bad. Death and everything.”

You nod solemnly. “I already had some.”

The guy blinks. “You did?”

“Yep, just couldn't help myself. Found some around here and I felt the Ghost really call to me.” You beam rather convincingly. 

“I think it’s calling to you again, you should try some more,” Bucky tells you.

“Nope. Had plenty. Gotta save some for the others,” you say loudly, kicking his foot again. “It was great, though. Ghost tastes great– I mean, got great taste.”

“Well in that case, here’s your cloak and you can head on in,” he smiles at you before turning to Bucky. “You’ll have to pay, though.”

Bucky’s face scrunches. “I’m in the fuckin’ show too.”

“So you are from Lo–”

“I was not on Love Island,” he declares definitely.

“Right,” he drags, like he doesn’t quite believe him. “Five bucks.”

Bucky stares at him. Troy smiles right back.

Bucky grumbles, relenting as he reaches out into his pocket to shell out five dollars.

Bucky had taken the mandatory black cloak with all the enthusiasm of someone being handed a parking ticket.

You, on the other hand, are already swirling yours around your shoulders like you’re about to perform a monologue.

“Personally, I’m not too fond of the silhouette, but it’s fine for a last-minute fit, I guess.” You adjust the hood, pulling it low over your eyes before striking a pose. “Do you think I look cute?”

Bucky blinks. He wasn’t expecting the question. His brain short-circuits almost immediately. 

You tilt your head, waiting.

He cannot figure out what to say, so he simply lets out a grunt. It’s extremely embarrassing. 

"I'll take that as a yes."  

Bucky makes a face. 

Instead, he moves to something else entirely. Flips his cloak over his shoulders, tying it into a perfect, military-precise knot in two seconds flat. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Well, that was fast.”

“It’s a knot. Not rocket science.”

You step in closer, reaching out to tug lightly at the strings of his cloak. “Did you go full Boy Scout at some point? Or was that just, like, a super useful skill in your assassin era?”

Bucky does not move. “Are you done?”

You grin. “Nope. I like being all up in your space. You’re even hotter up close.” 

He immediately steps back.

“Coward.”

“Don’t want you ruining my knot.” Bucky tugs it tighter, then glares down at your very haphazardly tied cloak. “Jesus. That’s a disaster.”

"I was going for a more casual look."

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Give it.”

“Oh, so now you want to touch me?”

Bucky freezes for half a second, until you laugh and then it turns into a half-hearted glare. 

Then, without reacting, he reaches out and untangles your mess of a knot with infuriating ease.

You watch him carefully as he ties it. He’s surprisingly gentle, fingers working quickly.

“You’re being very careful.”

“You’ll find a way to strangle yourself otherwise.”

“Is this your version of caring?”

Bucky ignores you.

“Oh, it is.”

“Just– shut up. Five minutes. I’ll pay you.”

Bucky steps back, hands off. The knot is perfect. He gives it a quick tug to test it, then nods.

You stare at him.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” You grin, pulling the hood over your head. “I just think it’s adorable that you want me to live.”

Bucky mutters something unintelligible under his breath and gestures toward the meeting hall. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”

The room is set up like a middle school talent show.

Rows of metal chairs, some folding, some clearly stolen from a diner, all arranged in a rows in front of a small, elevated stage. The stage itself is haphazardly draped with black fabric, trying to give the illusion of magic but mostly looking like a supermarket Halloween clearance aisle.

There is, for some fucking reason, a fog machine in the corner, already hissing out an unnecessary amount of smoke. The whole room smells faintly of lavender essential oils and burnt plastic.

"I gotta say, I expected more," you hum, adjusting your cloak as you scan the room.

“Like what?”

You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe some candles? You’d think they’d at least have, like, a bowl of blood or something.”

Bucky side-eyes you. “Not everything has to fuckin’ theatrical all the time. Just ‘cause you’re floating around 23 hours of the day, scaring the shit out of everyone.” 

You grin. “Oh, so you do think my theatrics are effective.”

Bucky realizes his mistake immediately. “That is not what I said.”

"No, no, I heard it," you smirk, nudging his shoulder as you lean in slightly. "You're saying that my supernatural entrance at your window was extremely well-executed."

Bucky glares at you. “I am saying nothing.”

"You're saying I have a flair for the dramatic. That my execution is flawless. That you—"

Bucky reaches over and yanks your hood over your face.

"Mmph��" You flail immediately, dragging it back. "Rude."

Bucky hides a smile to himself but doesn’t say anything.

You narrow your eyes. “You know, you should consider a little showmanship yourself.”

"No."

"I mean, look at you," you gesture vaguely at him, ignoring him. "You've got the sexy ex-assassin, current caveman aesthetic locked down. I’m imagining a trench coat. Maybe a few monologues in the rain. You’d be unstoppable.”

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do I have to do to get you to shut up?”

“Put your tulips on my tulips–”

He gets up and moves one seat over, away from you and the heat blossoming on his face. 

You follow right behind him with a grin, satisfied.

Mercifully, something your attention is drawn to the people entering the room before you notice his face flushing. 

The crowd is a mix of true believers and people who are clearly just here for the novelty of it. Some attendees look fully committed, hoods drawn, faces solemn. Others are whispering and pulling out their phones, probably posting about this on some platform.

You, however, are too busy fiddling with your cloak.

"This fabric is trash," you mutter, pulling at it. "What is this, polyester? It’s so staticky."

"That’s the real issue here," Bucky mutters.

"It is when I keep getting shocked," you say, rubbing your wrist where the fabric clings.

Bucky watches you for half a second too long when you tug at it with annoyance, brows pulled together.

Maybe he should’ve been honest earlier when you asked how he thought you looked. 

Instead, he clears his throat and looks away.

More people take seats. 

The atmosphere changes suddenly when a man in his late thirties walks up to the podium. 

He wears a deep purple cloak, slightly different from the ones given at the door. His hair is combed neatly back, his expression calm and composed.

He raises a hand. The murmurs in the room die down almost immediately.

You lean toward Bucky slightly. "Okay, so we have our medium."

Bucky doesn’t respond, but his jaw shifts slightly.

The man smiles. "Welcome, seekers of truth."

A few people nod reverently.

Bucky leans toward you. "You owe me five bucks."

"What?"

"I bet you earlier that he was going to say ‘seekers of truth’ within the first two minutes."

You peer at him. "I don't remember making that bet."

“We absolutely did.”

“You’re just trying to get back the five bucks you spent on the cloak.”

On stage, Dennis continues.

"Tonight is special," he says smoothly. "The Ghost’s energy is stronger than ever."

A few people murmur in agreement.

Bucky leans in again. "If I start screaming, do you think they'll kick me out?"

"Fuck around and find out, babygirl."

Instead of responding, he reaches over and yanks the knot he had tied securely for you loose. 

You glare at it. Then at him.

"If you wanted to take my clothes off, you could have just asked," you whisper. “At least buy me dinner first.” 

 "I hate you."

"You don't."

"I’ve never hated anyone more."

"You don't," you say, tapping his knee lightly. "You like my company, even if it causes you physical pain. That’s why it sucks even worse for you."

Bucky makes a sound that is a little too like a growl. 

The speaker, oblivious, raises his hands again.

Then, with a slow, practiced movement, he turns back toward the stage.

The room settles. The tension shifts.

Bucky doesn’t like it.

Not because it’s weird, exactly– he’s been in weirder places. But because he knows a performance when he sees one.

Dennis moves deliberately. Every step, every gesture, designed for impact.

And then, in a voice as smooth as a radio host’s, he speaks.

"The Ghost moves among us tonight," he says, pacing slowly across the stage. "I felt it earlier. A shift in the air. A whisper."

Bucky leans toward you.

"Did the Ghost also tell him to crank the fog machine to maximum?"

You bite back a grin. "It adds ambiance."

"It adds a fucking fire hazard."

You both glance toward the corner of the room, where the mist machine continues pumping out thick, curling fog.

It’s a lot, and smells faintly chemical and like no fog Bucky has ever smelt before. It spills along the floor, reaching all the way to the back row of seats.

Dennis stops, tilting his head.

"The energy here is special," he murmurs. "Do you feel it?"

A few people murmur in agreement.

Bucky does not murmur.

Instead, he tunes in, watching the room, the way people react. Watching the way Dennis pauses just long enough to let silence work in his favour.

It's polished. Which means it’s bullshit.

You’re half-listening, half-scanning the room. Not just in the way you usually soak in information, but in a subtler way. Like you’re looking for something.

Bucky notices. He wonders if he should ask. 

Dennis closes his eyes briefly, as if receiving a message.

"Some of you are new," he says suddenly, his voice shifting slightly. "Some of you have never been here before. You’ve been drawn here. Led here. Perhaps by curiosity, or fate, or something deeper. Whatever the reason, you are here now."

And then Dennis gestures to the audience.

A few nods in the audience. Someone exhales softly, like they’re already halfway into a trance.

Dennis begins to pace. Slow, measured steps, his fingers twitching slightly as if he’s channeling something.

"The spirit has whispered to me once again." His voice lowers. "I have seen visions."

A murmur spreads through the audience.

Dennis stops. Closes his eyes for effect.

"Dark visions. Visions of the Great Ghost of Nickasta’s past."

Dennis opens his eyes, gaze sweeping the room. "Tonight, we will consult with– is someone filming?"

Every head snaps around, straight toward you and Bucky.

Bucky doesn’t move.

You blink. Then, very slowly, you look down at the camera in your hands.

“Uh, yeah. Hi.” You raise your hand slightly, like a student in class. “We're new. The Graveyard Shift here to witness the—”

You dig around in your pocket, pulling out a folded-up flyer, squinting at it in the dark.

"—transformative power of communicating with ghosts."

You fold it back up and look at him expectantly.

Dennis’ smile tightens. "Recording is not encouraged." 

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

Dennis stares at him. With just a touch too much hesitation, he says “It disturbs the Ghost from reaching full power.”

Bucky’s head cranes.

"Keep that thing on," he tells you as if you had any plans of shutting it off, before raising his voice. "Why not? Don't you wanna get your message out there? Help people?"

Dennis' clasped hands remain tight.

"It is not my message," he says smoothly. "It is the Ghost’s. I am merely a vessel."

Bucky’s lips press together. "Great. Free publicity for the Ghost."

"Yeah, we're doing pretty well on YouTube," you add, twirling the camera slightly in your hands. "Could be doing better on Instagram, but this guy refuses to go live."

Bucky glares. “It’s not gonna happen. Let it go.”

Dennis’ jaw tightens slightly. His gaze does another quick sweep of the room.

Then, finally– 

"No." He plasters on a tight smile. "You may continue. But know this—some things cannot be captured by a device so primitive as a camera."

"I’ll take that risk." Bucky leans back in his chair, smug, before adding under his breath to you, "He’s definitely scamming."

You snort. "Give him a chance."

"I gave him five bucks."

"And you got a very hot cloak out of it, which your shoulders look incredible in."

Bucky glares ahead.

"What visions were you having?" someone in the crowd shouts, following it up with a strange laugh. 

Bucky’s eyebrows pull together. 

Dennis claps his hands together, a smooth pivot away from the interruption.

"Ah, yes, the visions!" he announces, voice swelling with importance. "The Ghost has revealed to me a story of great suffering! Of betrayal! Of a spirit trapped! A mighty beast who could not be contained!"

A few people in the crowd gasp, others burst into tiny giggles. Bucky wonders if others were here for the shits and laughs too. 

"How big?" someone in the crowd shouts.

Dennis' eyes light up. He lifts his arms wide, stretching as far as he can.

"He was... huge!" he exclaims, pacing the stage, cloak billowing slightly behind him. "Larger than life itself! And he was trapped, my friends."

A few people gasp softly.

Dennis cries out, "Trapped in chains by the very people who claimed to ‘love’ him!"

Bucky’s face remains blank.

"His mighty beast was strong, yes, but he was misunderstood. He wanted to be free, to live among the people in peace. But no! They took him, they made him fight, and then they... they trapped him!"

Dennis throws himself against the table, inhaling deeply like he’s just been hit by divine revelation. "They made him climb a tall tower!"

He wonders if it actually hurt the guy, all the throwing himself around that he was doing. 

"They paraded him for all to see, mocking him!"

Bucky's eyes close briefly, as if in pain. "Okay."

Mist grows stronger around the room, almost like he’s stuck in a room with a bunch of vapers.

His nose scrunches up immediately, eyes stinging lightly as he blinks.

“What the hell is that smell,” he blows the air in front of him.

“Chemical, with undernotes of sweetness,” you note. “Is that what the Ghost smells like or is it a creative interpretation?”

“It's gonna give me a migraine.”

“Breathe through your mouth, then,” you say, raising the camera up and zooming into Dennis doing… whatever.

Bucky just shrugs the stupid cloak off his shoulders and ties it around his face in a makeshift balaclava.

“I feel it,” Dennis announces, throwing his hands in the air. “It is here.”

“What is?” the crowd cries.

“My migraine,” Bucky answers.

You shove at his knee with yours.

Someone stumbles to their feet. “The beast... the spirit... it’s... it's all so beautiful!”

People around him burst into giggles.

“I can feel it, it’s... inside me!” someone in the front laughs loud enough to drown out the music.

“Yes! Yes! The Ghost is in all of you!” Dennis shouts, pointing. “We are all like the beast, misunderstood and bound by chains, but we must rise above it all—

“I am rising,” the same cloak guy from earlier chuckles, knocking the chair behind him to the ground as he stands up. “I see the Ghost.”

“Oh,” you comment, looking around to see everyone with their hands up in the air.

Bucky's arms stay firmly crossed over his chest as he sits slumped in his miserable little chair, staring at the crowd around him around him.

“Everyone's doing something,” you observe through all the loud laughter.

“I can see that,” he says, noticing that your knee continues to brush against his after you shoved at him before coming to a rest. His throat constricts in a way that makes talking a little more difficult.

He pulls the stupid cloth tighter around his face because whatever the smell was, it clearly was giving him a physical reaction.

“I’m having FOMO.”  

“By all means, do not let them make you feel that way,” Bucky grumbles, in what he thought was a tone dropping with sarcasm.

“You're right,” you say, dumping the camera on him before standing up with your hands in the air.

Great. Now he was responsible for this thing too.

“They tried to tear him down from his tower,” Dennis shouts.

“Who?” you shout back like it’s a fucking improv show.

“The Witch! The righteous witch, walking along her path of gold!”

“What?” you stop immediately. “The fuck does that mean?”

“It’s the pink lady from Wizard of Oz,” Bucky says casually.

You turn to him, eyebrow raised.

“His great beast is King Kong. Tower, beast, misunderstood, made to fight,” Bucky replies. “Nick and Asta are characters from The Thin Man.”

You lean toward him. "What?"

“He’s bastardizing movies from the 20s.”

You squint toward Dennis, who is still in full Shakespearan mode.

"Can you feel the injustice, my children?" Dennis exclaims. "Can you see the Ghost at work?"

You grin. "Are you telling me you sat through movies in the ‘20s?"

"I was alive in the ‘20s, what the fuck else was I supposed to do?"

Dennis continues, "We are all on a journey, a journey just like those travelers in the great dust storm– oh yes, yes, the spirit shows me! We must keep pushing forward, even when the sand storm rages!"

Bucky grimaces immediately. "Grapes of Wrath."

"What?" 

"Saw it when it was released. Thought it was boring as fuck."

You try to stifle a laugh. "You look so young, sometimes I forget you were childhood friends with Adam and Eve."

Bucky glares at you. 

Dennis throws his arms out. "Another! Another in the room with us! This mechanical Titan with a heart of gold! They saw him as just a machine, but no, no! He was so much more! The spirit showed me! He was a reflection of the true power within us all—"

"Metropolis," he mutters. “Thea von Harbou's novel."

“Bucky, you fucking nerd.” You tap his shoulder, grinning. “Look at you, busting scams and quoting movies made during the dawn of time. Do you know how hot you are?”

“What?”

“I said, are you single? I’m asking for a friend.”

“Uh huh,” he replies, when the mist pumps into the room.

“I’m the friend.”

“Got that,” he replies, focusing on literally anything else.

Dennis continues without missing a beat. "But wait! Not all of you have followed the spirit’s true path!"

The room goes quiet. Dennis' eyes scan the crowd before he points suddenly.

"You! Yes, you!"

For a second, Bucky thinks he’s pointing at him.

"You betrayed the spirit, didn’t you? You–"

You poke Bucky. "Did you betray the spirit?"

"Only when I felt like it," he mutters.

However, the man in the row ahead of you suddenly lets out a panicked noise.

"I– I needed to go to the bathroom so bad!" he cries. "The line to the club was so long, and the bouncers weren’t letting anyone in, so I just cut ahead–"

Dennis gasps. A few others in the room let out soft, horrified whispers, as if the man had committed a felony. 

"No!" Dennis shouts, pointing like he’s passing divine judgment.

The poor guy visibly withers in his seat.

"You have broken the trust of the divine!" Dennis booms. "You must atone!"

The man trembles. "W-what should I do?"

Bucky mutters under his breath. "Is everyone here on drugs?"

Dennis softens slightly, his voice taking on a careful, patronizing tone.

"The spirit demands retribution," he says. "But the Ghost is merciful. And today, so very generous. For a small donation, you will have the chance to cleanse yourself from the darkness."

Bucky watches the guy scramble for his wallet. "Is he selling forgiveness?"

The man hands over thirty bucks.

"This is literally how the Church split,” he mumbles.

You suppress a laugh. "Did it affect your Sunday plans?"

Bucky shoots you a dry look. "I was born in 1917. The Church split four hundred years before that."

"Oh, right." You nod seriously. "I just assumed you were there when Martin Luther nailed his stuff to the door."

Bucky exhales, pressing the heel of his palm into his temples.

The fog thickens.

Dennis' voice rises. "Everyone quiet! The Ghost is speaking!"

You turn to Bucky. "The Ghost is speaking, Buck."

Bucky groans. "You mean till now he’s been freestyling?"

Dennis throws his hands up toward the ceiling. "I feel it! It is here!"

Bucky’s nose twitches. The smell is stronger now, almost becoming hard to see through– 

A split second later, you both realize.

Your eyes widen. "Is that–?"

"Nitrous oxide," Bucky confirms, standing up.

"Pumping laughing gas into the room, are you fucking kidding me?" you curse. “We need to air this place out.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Bucky turns sharply, scanning the room. He watches as shoulders slump, as people laugh for no reason. A guy near the front sways slightly, blinking like he’s forgotten where he is.

Someone else lets out a dazed giggle.

Bucky’s focus zeroes in on the mist machine, still hissing. There are small metal canisters stacked neatly beside it, refilling the room.

Bucky crosses the room in four steps.

Dennis barely has time to turn and register the movement before Bucky grabs one of the small pressurized canisters, gripping it in one hand.

"Hey! What are you—"

Bucky doesn’t answer, instead throwing it straight through the window.

The glass explodes outward, scattering onto the pavement outside.

A rush of cold air floods in.

The sound shocks the room, pulling some people out of their haze. Others are still too fogged up to react.

Dennis' face twists in outrage. "What the fuck?!”

"Show’s over," he mutters, chucking the second one too.

It slams into the glass and tumbles outside, hissing as it empties into the night.

Dennis looks like he might actually explode. "You’re ruining–"

"You can talk to the great Ghost through your one phone call in jail," Bucky interrupts, brushing glass off his sleeve.

Dennis lets out a furious noise, grabbing the stupid silver chalice from the table beside him and hurls it directly at Bucky’s head.

Bucky barely tilts his head to the side but finds that there’s really no need.

The chalice stops midair. Hangs there. Slowly floats back to the table, settling back into place.

Dennis' rage turns into something closer to panic.

"Let’s not get pissy now," you remark, voice syrupy sweet.

"Fuck you," Dennis snarls.

And then, in an act of desperation, he grabs a knife from the altar.

It’s cheap plastic. It’s definitely a prop. This guy was fuckin’ nuts.

Still, he lifts it like he’s going to lunge at Bucky.

Except his own cloak yanks tight around his arms.

Dennis lets out a choked sound as it wraps, pulling his limbs against his sides.

The curtain behind him rips off its hooks, swirling around him.

In seconds, he’s bound to the chair behind him, like some kind of villain in a medieval play.

The room stares.

You smile, pleasantly.

"Enough," you say, voice cooler than it should be.

Dennis glares daggers at you.

Bucky glances at you, mouth twitching slightly. 

Only then do you notice silence has fallen. 

You look at the crowd, only to find them watching you.

Someone in the back lets out a horrified whisper. 

"The spirit is here."

The crowd erupts.

"Where?" you ask, genuinely confused.

"The Ghost!" someone screams. "It's you!"

You blink. "Oh, me?"

They nod fervently.

A few drop to their knees.

You process this for a moment. Then grin like you just won the lottery.

"Oh, right. Yeah. Of course it’s me." You lift your arms slightly. "Hey, y’all." 

The crowd gasps. 

“Guide us.”

Bucky groans. "Some fuckin’ role model you’ve got there."

You pretend not to hear him. Instead, you do what you’ve seen Wanda do a million times, even though it really did nothing for you. 

You lift your hands slightly. Let your feet rise just a little off the floor. 

The room erupts in gasps.

"Fuck’s sake," Bucky mutters, dropping his head into his hands.

You clear your throat. "Yes, it is I. Spirit of Stick Blasta."

"Nickasta," Bucky corrects.

"Nickasta," you confirm. "I have traveled a long time to be here."

"Twenty minutes."

"Twenty millennia."

Bucky watches as you fake-peek through your half-closed eyes.

"I have some wisdom to share," you announce.

The crowd leans forward.

Bucky leans back.

"First!" you bellow. "Do not listen to anyone who stands on stage and says they've got a spirit moving through them. They're lying."

"But you’re doing that," Bucky heckles.

"Except me. I’m legit," you add quickly.

Bucky watches as you subtly flip him off with one of your raised hands.

"Second!" you continue. "Do not pay people for forgiveness."

You pause. "Unless that person’s name is Prosecutor and you’re bored of how long the case is being—"

"Next one," Bucky interrupts loudly.

You wave a hand dismissively.

"Third…" You falter. "I don’t know. Does anyone have suggestions?"

The crowd stares.

Bucky facepalms.

"Right. No suggestions." You clap your hands together. "Meeting adjourned."

The room is silent.

Then, someone whispers, "What… what do we do now?”

You land lightly on the floor again, brushing nonexistent dust off your cloak.

"For realsies, though, I suggest you get any money you paid this guy back. And then sue him into oblivion.” 

Dennis makes furious muffled noises from under the curtain still binding him.

You glance at him.

With zero effort, Dennis gets dragged backward, vanishing backstage.

The crowd stares.

Bucky pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Everyone out," Bucky orders.

The crowd obeys instantly.

Still dazed, still giggling from the leftover gas, they shuffle toward the exits.

Bucky looks at you. "Are you fine?"

You ignore him. 

Instead, you call after the crowd, "And call someone to pick you up!"

They nod vaguely.

"I already called the paramedics, they'll be here in a minute!" you shout. “Don’t go anywhere.” 

Bucky’s expression tightens.

"Are you fine?" he repeats.

You wave it off. "Oh yeah. It takes way more substances to get me high. All this was covered under the Leviathan Weapon of Mass Destruction starter kit.  What about you?"

"Me too." Bucky shrugs. After a pause, he clears his throat. "You didn’t have to tie him up."

"He was annoying,” you say flippantly. 

"I wasn’t actually in danger."

"I know."

"It was probably grape juice."

"I know."

"I didn’t need help."

"I know."

Bucky narrows his eyes at you. "What’s your play here?"

"My play?" You scoff. "I know this emo lone wolf thing is something you’ve been cultivating carefully for years, but sometimes, people can do things for you and have it not be a play."

Bucky stares. "Like what?"

"Like-- I don’t know– trying to protect you even if you don’t need it." You turn on your heel, hopping down from the stage. "Or like checking to see if you’re still breathing when you’re lying face down on the table."

Bucky does not respond, feeling his fingers get all fidgety. 

 “C’mon,” you tell him, halfway out the door. “We’ve got some explaining to do.”

He clears his throat, rolls his shoulders back and starts behind you.

“We’ve got all the footage. So that should be good." You turn to eye him. "But you know what’ll really help our case? You keeping that cloak on.” 

Bucky groans, yanking at the fabric that hung across his neck like a bath towel. "I’m gonna set this thing on fire."

"You won’t. You are the cloak now.""

"I will."

“You’re still wearing it. I think you actually like it.”

Bucky grinds his teeth. "I’m leaving."

"In the cloak?"

"Shut up."

"I think it makes you look distinguished."

Bucky storms toward the exit.

You follow, grinning the whole way.

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing!

to know when this fic updates, please follow @shurisneakersupdates and turn on post notifications! it's the only way tumblr will let me have a taglist and i don't post there at all except for fics </3

[madbard]

Putting this in your askbox cuz I know you're also an Epic the Musical fan but yknow I think if Loop saw that musical they'd get very emotional about Would You Fall In Love With Me Again, just in the context of thinking of their old party... :'>

Oh, a thousand times, yes.

I’ve been thinking about Epic and ISAT a lot recently, and honestly I think the entire musical would be such an intense experience for the entire party, but especially Siffrin and Loop. After all, Epic is, at its core, the story of someone who loses himself while desperately trying to return home.

(I know you were talking about ‘Would You Fall In Love With Me Again’ specifically, but this is about to get really out of hand. Also, I’m going to frame Epic as a musical that Loop, Siffrin and the post-canon party (likely sans Bonnie considering some of the subject material) are watching.)

Starting off with the Troy Saga, we have some striking similarities between Odysseus and Loop and Sif already - we know he’s been away from his home island for years, and so badly wants to see his family again. The homesickness here would resonate with them, I think, but the situation is also very different since Odysseus has such strong memories of his home and his family, and his home still very much exists. So that creates a little bit of distance as they are watching. ‘Open Arms’ would probably hit pretty hard though - I could see Polites’ encouragements reminding them of the party trying to help them after the loops. (Note for ‘Warrior of the Mind’ - I think this song would start some of the party off on the wrong foot with Athena. I think Mirabelle and Isabeau at least would be put off by the line “I see you changing from how I’ve designed you” as a bad thing. Here we have this character trying to change for the better, and another character is telling him that that’s a bad thing and he should stay the same? Yeah, they might not be the biggest Athena fans at this point.)

But then… oh, the Cyclops Saga is going to be uh… interesting. I wonder when any members of the party might have encountered a giant… led a fight against said giant… tried to barter with the giant to find a nonviolent solution for everyone… thought for a moment that they had succeeded… realized they had failed in a terrifying moment when they were told they would be the final one to die… witnessed helplessly as that giant brutally crushed one of the people they love most in the world as that person called out their name in agony… (The first time I listened to Epic after finishing Act 3 I had to pause it for a minute because I kept visualizing Bonnie during ‘Survive’ and it was doing psychic damage.) As much as I like to imagine the party watching Epic, I can’t imagine Siffrin watching that scene without having a panic attack. After that I doubt they are finishing the musical. (Now, we do have a fair bit to go and fascinating songs to think about so for the sake of this post maybe they were somehow all distracted during that scene? I don’t know, for whatever reason they keep watching.) If the party didn’t like Athena before, they definitely don’t like her after she abandons Odysseus - though I could see Odile giving her a little more grace in that regard, as she might see a bit of herself in Athena’s intelligence, the age difference between her and Odysseus and her clear difficulties with friendship and emotions.

The Ocean Saga is called than the Cyclops Saga. I could see Siffrin and Loop exchanging some looks at the “you rely on wit and people die on it” line but while there are some parallels between that song and their own discussion post Act 3, the similarities are ultimately far outweighed by the differences. Then we have the ultimate paranoia/insomnia/exhaustion/homesickness anthem in ‘Keep Your Friends Close,’ which I could see Siffrin and Loop getting pretty invested in.

As much as I love the Circe Saga, I’m not sure the party is getting much from it aside from enjoying the story and music.

Then we have the Underworld Saga and STARS. Loop is NOT going to be handling this well. ‘The Underworld’ is an absolute nightmare - gotta love being haunted by the screams of your friends that you couldn’t protect, tee-hee! Odysseus’ mom dying while waiting for him to come home is also an intense scene considering how little Loop and Siffrin know about what might’ve happened to their own parents when the island disappeared, but that scene is also just generally heartbreaking. ‘No Longer You’ is where things become viscerally painful for Loop - after all, there is a reason there are at least two full length Loop-centric animatics of that song. I want to ramble about this one but… “we’ve suffered and sailed through the toughest of hells, now you tell us our effort’s for nothing” and “I see a man who gets to make it home alive, but it’s no longer you” speak for themselves. The universe doesn’t care how much you suffered - someone is going to get that happy ending that you fought and died and bled for, but it’s not you. Not anymore. Then we reach ‘Monster’ and Odysseus has reached a state of self-loathing and dehumanization that Siffrin and Loop are far too familiar with. The death of diplomacy in exchange for brutality matches with post-Act 3 Siffrin, but it also aligns with Loop, and their willingness to do whatever it takes to help Siffrin escape the loops, even if that means sacrificing the party. And of course the perceived loss of humanity is very applicable to Loop, always.

On to the Thunder Saga, and Odysseus’ rage in ‘Different Beast’ is his own personal Memory of Sadnesses moment. This saga is just… tough to listen to for the entire party I think. The way Odysseus and Eurylochus’ friendship falls apart - that still hurts so much every time I listen and I’m sure it would be painful for them as well. (I could probably elaborate more but this post is already far longer than I had expected and I’m starting to run out of steam so I’ll leave it here.)

The party has made it to the Wisdom Saga! Odd opinion incoming, but I think ‘Legendary’ would resonate with Isabeau a lot - a song about this young, less-than-intimidating guy who desperately wants to be bigger, braver, stronger, the kind of person that can protect the people he cares about. Also, I could see Telemachus activating some protective instincts in the party, considering how some of his eagerness and fighting attitude are mirrored in Bonnie as well. ‘Little Wolf’ and ‘We’ll Be Fine’ would cause a massive shift in Mirabelle and Isabeau’s opinion of Athena - the character who opposed change at the beginning has changed for the better! Athena’s regret in ‘We’ll Be Fine’ would also hit really close to home for Odile, I think - “maybe if I’d made a different call, maybe if I hadn’t missed it all, maybe he’d be fine” aligns so painfully well with her own guilt and regret for not being able to figure out the loops and help Siffrin sooner. I think ‘Love In Paradise’ would be a surprisingly tough listen for Loop and Siffrin. The context is so different, but this song contains lyrics like “under my spell we’re stuck in paradise, no one can come or go - not til the end of time, there is no way, you’re mine, all mine.” Calypso is so scared of being alone that she traps Odysseus on the island with her for years - meanwhile, Odysseus is slowly broken down by his grief and his desperation to go home. For Loop and Siffrin, there’s an uncomfortable understanding of both characters, I think. (The entire party loves Athena after ‘God Games,’ I don’t make the rules.)

Next up, Vengeance Saga. This is where things start to get intense. As one might guess from the fact that I made a Loop-centric lyric comic for ‘Not Sorry For Loving You,’ I think they would relate to this song on a visceral level. “Someone came by today, they said they’re taking you away, that you’re not mine to save, and sooner I won’t get to see your face” - this so perfectly fits with Loop’s realizing Siffrin won their happy ending and is going to be leaving Dormont with THEIR family. Not theirs to save. Not anymore. “I spent my whole life here, was cast away when I was young, alone for a hundred years, I had no friends but the sky and sun” - this is literally an exaggerated description of their own life, washing up on the shore of Vaugarde as a teenager, completely alone with no memory of ever having been known or loved. “So when you washed ashore, I thought for sure that you were my dream come true - I thought I knew” - Loop/Siffrin being so desperately lonely when they met the party and bonding with them so deeply and desperately, starved for love and connection to the point where they clung TOO hard, loved TOO defensively. And then we reach the final lines of the song and I honestly think the comic explains better than I could exactly how perfect those lyrics are for Loop. At the end of this song, Calypso is left sobbing on a beach, watching as Odysseus sails into a future without her in it, with people that love him, so desperately lonely and full of the knowledge that nobody will ever, ever love her again. Yeah… I think this song might mess with Loop a bit. And then, of course, we have ‘Six Hundred Strike.’ This is another song that I imagine Siffrin for - specifically Act 5 Siffrin fighting the King. “How does it feel to be helpless? How does it feel to know pain? I watched my friends die in horror - watching as they were all slain!” Honestly, this song is a big Act 5 moment for Odysseus - except that he actually defeats Poseidon. I can’t imagine that this song wouldn’t cause at least a shudder in Siffrin and Loop.

And now, finally, the Ithaca Saga. (Which is what you were actually talking about. This got extremely out of hand.) I’ve mentioned the party would feel protective of Telemachus. They are not handling ‘Hold Them Down’ well. ‘Odysseus’ is interesting to think about actually, because for whatever reason this has become such an Act 5 Isabeau loops AU song to me. I imagine that an Isabeau loops AU would involve him undergoing a change that mirrors Odysseus a lot, becoming steadily colder rather than becoming manic like Siffrin does. I think he’d cope with the loops by essentially shutting down his emotions, using his intellect to be a truly terrifying force in combat. Under it all though I think there’d still be a core protective rage - “my mercy has long since drowned” vibes. He’s going to protect his family, even if it means becoming a monster. Alright, AU talk aside, the fact that the suitors literally refer to Telemachus as “the kid” in this song (as they’re planning to maim him to control Odysseus) is going to mess with Loop and Siffrin at least a little bit. Moving onto ‘I Can’t Help But Wonder,’ for whatever reason this song makes me think of Bonnie and Nille. I actually have a half-sketched lyric comic with this song set to their reunion, but only time will tell if I ever actually get around to finishing it.

Alright. We’ve made to the song this ask was actually talking about.

‘Would You Fall In Love With Me Again’ is a beautifully painful song to think about in connection with Loop because it is such a cruel inversion of what actually happens. Odysseus returns home, changed and certain Penelope won’t love him anymore, convinced that when she looks at him she will see a monster. But when she sees him again, she sees her husband. She sees him, she recognizes him, she tells him she still loves him, that he is still the same person, that she will fall in love with him over and over. She tells him everything Loop wishes they could hear from their own party. In reality, the party didn’t recognize Loop, because they aren’t the same person anymore. In canon, Loop never gets the confirmation that the party loves them still. They know the party is grateful, but that’s only because they were able to help them find Siffrin. Siffrin thought the party loved him after he helped each of them during the friend quests, and it’s only after Act 5 that they realize that the party loved them already, and will continue to love them even if they mess up. Loop never gets that confirmation. As they fade back into the Universe, they do so knowing the party will not grieve them.

Part of my love for post-canon Loop content stems from my desire to see Loop asking, in their own way, without even realizing it, if the party would fall in love with them again.

The answer is yes. No matter how long it’s been, and how much Loop has changed, I believe that the answer is yes.

[just-a-little-unionoid]

In which Stone sort of has a daughter and Ivo and her are not getting along

so I've talked about this fic I started writing back when the first movie came out and since a few people seem interested I decided to post what I wrote back then to test the water

on the base concept this fic is supposed to be stobotnik but this first part doesn't even has Stone in it, as it is only the first encounter between Robotnik and the kid

it's also not supposed to be the first chapter and it's short but that's all I got the motivation to write back then and it's been 4 years so I'm just, I'm gonna post it now cuz that's long enough okay, we will see how it goes later 😭

for context this takes place after the first movie and will only be canon-compliant up to that point

also uh cw r slur??? idk I don't condone the characters' language but it's there

tagging @thebadevil @alexcole1326 and @nosebleedy99 'cause you commented on the other post

- Meanwhile a few months latter on the mushroom planet -

The Doctor was looking for a way on a tricky path, a collapsing old mushroom cap he needed to step on in order to reach a better point of view, when his appliances went insane: there was some dimensional shit going on. He heard a big crack, like thunderbolt, then the dimentional fluctuation faded away.

Maybe two hours latter he heard something again, but something small, something he hadn't heard in a long time. It was not the wind, not the mushrooms growing, not his own breath, not Agent Stone rolling away. It was something that moved by itself, something alive, something animal. It was footsteps.

He was prepared for anything, really, he was prepared for humans, talking blue hedgehogs, other feaking rainbow animals, dinosaurs that would try to eat him... He was ready, and ready to fight for his life if necessary! What he wasn't really expecting though was a child in some kind of safety suit shaped like a dress? With a lot of shiny technological device attached here and there. He didn't get to see their face a lot but based on its proportions and the way it was standing it was obviously a human child, or a weirdly humanoid shaped alien, because as far as Robotnik knew the probability of an alien species to evolve in the exact same way as human, if statistically possible, was very low, and the probability to encounter it even lower.

The child glanced at him for a second and didn't even look up from the touchscreen tablet in their hands when they addressed him:

"I am looking for a human man who was known on his home planet, Earth, as Dr. Ivo Robotnik. Would you appear to 1) know English and 2) have seen a human looking quite like you, in that the human male standard shape and size are similar to yours. He should have a pale skin and dark hairs, and apparently a 'glorious mustache'?"

For once he didn't really know what to say, it only took half a second for him to remember how to register English words but the kid was faster and after a jaded sigh they resumed: "Nǐ huì shuō pǔtōnghuà ma? Kya aap hindee bolate hain? ¿Hablas español? Hal tatahadath alearabiatu? Tumi ki bān-"

"YES I do speak English, and other language stoo, thank you very much. Who are you and what are you doing here anyway?"

"I am here to find the Dr. Ivo Robotnik, I have already said that. Are you retarded or something? If you are don't worry I can explain things again, more slowly, I am trained for that."

"I AM, Dr. Ivo Robotnik," he said, trying very hard not to break the child's neck. "I know you're looking for me, what I'm asking is why? Who are you and who sent you here? No. You know what in fact I don't care who you are. I just want to know who sent you. Which government or secret agency, that sort of thing."

The mildly disgusted and doubtful facial expression they made as they were double-checking his appearance was speaking volumes about their internal thoughts.

"I have no more time to dedicate to you. I'm a very busy person and searching for you already wasted far more of my precious time than you deserve. All you need to know is that a very important person want you and you will follow me now if you don't want me to make use of force."

And on that, the child turned their back to him and disappeared behind a mushroom.

Great. One of those child genius who thought they were above everyone else just because they worked for a random government. He should know, he was one of them. But that kid would learn soon enough what their real place was: down below.

He still followed them though, because they looked like they knew a way back and, well, even if he was smart enough to find a way by himself, thank you very much, the sooner he could beat that hedgehog the better it was. Also, he could just kill them after learning whatever device brought them here and no one would know.

–––

Soon they arrived to a more open area. The child seemingly took measurements, they walked around taking notes on their pad for a few minutes then stopped.

"Come here," they said while pointing the ground. "Don't move."

They took a device from their bag, some kind of tripod filled with wires and LEDs, and placed it on the ground. They stepped back and typed on their screen some more.

The tripod beeped and light beams came out of it, scaning the mushroom cap they where standing on. A dozen of flat devices escaped from the bag and and went to place themselves on strategic points marked by the beams.

The child then placed what looked like a power cell in the tripod. That blue glow emanating from it, could it be... But he had no time to think about it, lights amplificated by stimulated emission of radiation came out of the tripode and to the discs, reflecting into the others, and soon the whole place was illuminated. Reality torn open for the second time this day in a deafening din.

When he oppened his eyes again a ring, looking almost exactly like the one that brought him here, was now open on the ground before him. Almost, because it looked like it opened on a room specifically equipped for that purpose, and with the whole procedure to activate it, it could only mean it was a more primitive technology.

The Doctor looked up at the child, who was scrutinizing him for his reaction.

"I bet you didn't do that yourself, it looks just like this creature's gold rings portals," he said with a smirk.

"Yeah of course," responded the child with spite, "it's reverse engineering."

"Lame."

"Well at least I'm not stupidly stuck on a damn mushroom planet like an idiot. I favour efficiency upon ego, that's why I am here saving your ass and you are pathetically crawling over there covered in mushroom goo. Now, you will have to excuse me..."

They pressed some hiden button in their gloves and Robotnik felt something stinging his neck.

"...but I don't trust you."

The last thing he thought while falling to the ground and through the ring was: "But... That's my tech..."

[hawkogurl]

Wdym there's queerbaiting in yfnsm I'm so confused

The “Go get ‘em, tiger.” line is originally MJ’s and is originally definitely intended to be flirty. They are relying on their audience recognizing the line and getting hopeful they’ll actually get a queer ship or even just getting excited there’s fuel to a queer ship to make them money. This is also Disney, meaning the likelihood they actually intend to follow through on it is next to zero, especially with them already hinting towards other things. They’re just stringing people along. If they actually go through with it, which again, they’re relying on people hoping they will, I’ll take it back. But reality is they probably won’t.

This is a sort of queerbaiting Marvel has taken to using a concerning amount as of recently, where they’ll add just enough that people in fandom will take it as queer enough or like it’s just implying it when in reality, they’re just trying to get money out of the pockets of both fandom culture and the sort of people who would hate to see canon queer relationships in superhero media. You can see it in Deadpool and Wolverine and, frankly, most comics that at all reference Deadpool and Spider-Man as a ship. They don’t ever intend to give it to you, they just know it’ll probably be enough to get money out of people.

To add insult to injury, Disney is also in this show using a line from MJ. Along with the fact that using her line essentially makes their bait more credible, it puts a bad taste in my mouth that they’re essentially trampling an iconic female character to prop up their mlm queerbait.

I like, hate to keep being the cynical person here, but there really wasn’t any part of the line that made me excited. It really just made me sort of angry.

[spindle-girl]

the general idea wildbow was going for was that the unwritten/unspoken rules we see is that Brockton Bay is a case where the rules are getting discarded as more and more things happen in such a quick pace they can't recover. in statements outside the story, wildbow certainly seems to lend credence to both the rules and the cops and robbers game, talking about it like an actual thing outside of BB, but at the same time a lot of the things he talks about are the fucked up side of the cape world and mix that with canon and it really paints the opposite picture.

the way he views guns is that they are an escalation no matter what, but if you only bring them out a certain way, backed up with a power excuse, you're treading the line but still good, which is why Tattletale (thinker who knows who/where to hit without being lethal) and Miss Militia (literally her power so she has to and can go non lethal) are fine. this is what wildbow intended to be allowed under the unwritten rules. also intended under the unwritten rules/cops and robbers game is that if you're someone who's already broken the game then everyone else can go all out. see the Undersiders/Travelers using guns and explosives against the Nine.

the reason Prism should be allowed to use a gun against Taylor during the fight with the mayor is because from the heroes pov, the Undersiders have broken the rules in the past (releasing the E88 IDs, finding Shadow Stalker's identity during the Endbringer aftermath, controlling her) and are actively breaking them (taking over a city and attacking Triumph's family [i think this is the scene you're talking about above]). it's part of the lead up of showing how far they are from the normal game

but at the same time, they never really were there in the first place. Coil kidnapped both Lisa and Dinah and is known to have mercs that use guns, Lung planned on his hench shooting the Undersiders in Arc 1, E88's initiation is to find an acceptable target and beat them near or to death and they show up to Bitch's place with guns trying to shoot her and Taylor. i think the one time someone goes, oh woah a gun! is Miss Militia sometime later to Taylor when she's given the chance to go through her things and Taylor has to divert claiming she was only shooting wooden boards while trapped in a flaming building (which is true, but not fully). i think some guy that wanted to join the Empire straight up shot one of New Wave in her home and in Ward we find out that when he got out of jail he joined up without issue (besides New Wave being angry about it but nothing major happened)

and the thing is, all of that isn't supposed to be normal, with how wildbow talks about it. it's supposed to be this sliding scale that gets thrown out of wack by the ABB bombing places, then Coil (pinning the blame on Lisa) releasing the Empire identities, the Empire bringing down buildings, then Leviathan, then the Nine, then Echidna. so if you feel like things aren't following the rules i think that's supposed to be intended since shit's fucked

but again, the first fight in the book opens up with the line of shoot the children, so

If I can criticize one smaller thing about Worm and the concept of the "unwritten rules" in it, it would be how the "no guns" rule seems to only matter/exist sometimes in canon

I don't know how to word it best, but I just feel like it's something Wildbow added after the fact without looking back and realizing that there's a fair few capes who use guns, but don't suffer consequences socially for doing so

I do like the general concept of it from purely the cape's perspective, the idea that it is more or less a way to help lessen tension overall in situations by leaving such blatant lethality out of the question, but like. It isn't really enforced/mentioned much in the text, from what I've read

Anyways, I still find Prism carrying a handgun and attempting lethal force against Taylor in that one fight to be a little crazy, but at least that situation is justifiable given Taylor's other actions

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

anyway how do you think ryan graham yaz and dan got through the whole giggle situation

[bacchuschucklefuck]

doing chibi is a good design exercise bc it forces u to think on shapes n essential details, essentially thumbnailing ur designs. its also a terrible design exercise bc it ends up looking cute no matter what

[4bsurdcreature]

Narrative Foils

Based off of This Post

[nenoname]

stan twins the canon cptsd brothers i will always think about all your unaddressed issues that would make perfect plot fuel for your spinoff

and also the whole 'stan getting that poem by bill via a website which contrasts with bill getting one from the axolotl via a website' foreshadowing thing

like idk i would love something like su future but like more optimistic, aka not an accumulated breakdown that has to be mostly resolved off screen at the end :/// but something thats being kinda addressed throughout? (although would love to see one of them turn into a monster thats always fun lol)

stan having severe issues from his dad and those years of being homeless that we keep on getting more info on but never really getting confronted on (the drifter catalogue and tijuana incident...), him being completely alone for like twenty years when running the shack before soos comes along to the point that 1998 is noted as his low point, and him not really learning about bill+what he did to ford until ages after he killed him if he ever did get the full context

while i think amnesia and everyone seeing him as a hero actually helped with stan's 'i'm a worse version of my brother' thing its still a lingering issue too and we now got him being insecure over his own hands

ford being immediately thrown from 'being tortured by bill' to 'being stuck in the multiverse and being chased by bounty hunters constantly', him fully expecting himself to die when destroying bill, and him only now being safe for the first time in 30 years ....relatively safe, he's still in constant danger because of course he is

idk in the end the series wants them to be happy and they deserve it, its why i wasn't too worried about the book being like 'ooh bill is back!! and the book is haunting ford' thing cos i knew they'll be ok

[fuupan]

i had this in mind a few days ago while running on 2 hrs of sleep

decided to finally draw it lol

i have some more ideas in mind of them that i will hopefully get to get around drawing

[sammygender]

also im going to be so real i still have not come around to loustat endgame even though i KNOW it will be loustat endgame. i only like lestat in connection to louis but the thing is i like louis too much to want him in connection with lestat. ‘yet you regularly read loumand fic’ um well im sorry that i just find their failmarriage more compelling. i dont even know why (the way fans talk abt loustat reminds me of sam and dean and i refuse to touch that again…..the way some fans talk about loumand reminds me of like maybe tom and shiv or something?? and people were still really annoying and stupid about tomshiv sometimes, but, like, dean winchester wasnt there.) ‘they weren’t in love’ i don’t care…. i don’t believe in ‘love’ the way loustat romanticisers mean it anyway…. plus that just makes it more interesting….. ‘louis deserves better’ louis ALWAYS deserves better😒😒😒better than armand and especially better than that blonde man. except for with claudia. with claudia CLAUDIA deserves better always and forever. amen.

[good-beanswrites]

Fuuta x Kotoko?

Waah I hope the fact that this ran a little long makes up for the lateness -- I really love the idea and was so excited to get the request!! They'd be so interesting and affect each other so much...... it makes me crazy...... It becomes canon divergent at the end because I genuinely think being in each others' company more would influence them both

Kotoko was nothing if not observant. Over the years, she’d found herself in – and gotten herself out of – enough situations to get a good read on the people she interacted with. No matter what this world threw her way, she could always rely on those abilities. And from the moment she met Milgram’s third prisoner, those abilities told her he was nothing but trouble. 

“Oi,” he’d called across the dining table during the first meal they all had shared. “What did you do to get here?”

From the moment she woke up in this strange place, Kotoko had kept to herself. It’s dangerous to charge forward and introduce oneself to a group of mysterious murderers when there are no locks on the doors. She hadn’t spoken a word to anyone, the others smart enough to heed her intense look and stay away. 

Fuuta, on the other hand, was the first to speak directly to her. He stared impatiently.

“Well?”

She noted his directness. His volume. The brashness and vulgarity she’d heard earlier in the day. His motivations and values he’d let slip in his early defenses. His anger and his fear. The suspicion in his gaze, as well as the need for reassurance in his voice. In that moment, the information clicked together in her mind, and Kotoko realized two things:

Kajiyama Fuuta was a lot like her, in the obvious ways.

Kajiyama Fuuta was nothing like her, in the ways that really mattered.

“The same reason as everyone else, I suppose,” she said carefully. He may have revealed his whole hand, but from experience she knew better than to do the same.

A lot of her experiences returned to her as the trial went on. She went through the motions of coaxing secrets out of quiet men, or playing along with cheery girls’ games to uncover what she was looking for. She remembered how it felt on stakeouts as she kept her eye on the warden’s door, and recalled the thrill of negotiation when she had a moment alone with them. And unfortunately, she recognized the immediate sensation of being tailed. She was used to shaking an unwanted follower out on the streets, but it was difficult to do the same when the only places to go consisted of three rooms and a corridor. 

No matter how inconspicuous Fuuta thought he was being, Kotoko got a glimpse of that bright hair retreating around corners just behind her. She could feel his eyes boring into her back, always conveniently whipping away by the time she turned to look. The only thing that seemed to affect his permanently blaring volume was when she was speaking nearby – unlike a real stalker who would tactfully pretend not to be listening in, Fuuta would use the opportunity to jump into all her conversations.

Kotoko was in the middle of her morning stretches when she became aware of his presence lurking around the doorway. After several weeks of the behavior, she’d had quite enough. Kotoko knew that if you can’t shake a tail, there’s only one other option. 

She stepped out of her cell, swiftly reaching for Fuuta’s collar. With a handful of his uniform, she shoved him back against the cell bars. For someone that had creeped on all her daily exercise routines, he seemed awfully shocked at how strong she was.

“Stop following me.” She kept her voice low and even. “I don’t know what you want from me, nor do I care. I will –”

“I don’t want anything from you!” 

He raised his voice in an attempt to sound tough, but only succeeded in coming off desperate. He tried to weasel out of her grasp to no avail. She’d had practice intimidating guys three times her height – it was almost too easy now that she had an inch or so on Fuuta. 

“Don’t give me that oblivious crap. Every day. Every single day, you –”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re the one who acting fucking crazy!”

Even after knowing it was in vain, he kept squirming under her harsh look. His eyes flicked frantically around the room, only able to take in her stone cold expression for a brief moment at a time. He kept shouting his own defenses, his cheeks growing more red by the second.

This time, the information gathered took a bit longer to fall into place. One of her conclusions was something Kotoko was very used to. The other was something she’d never quite experienced before. For the first time in long career of poker faces, she visibly started upon realizing two things:

Kajiyama Fuuta was downright terrified of her.

Kajiyama Fuuta was hopelessly attracted to her.

She hurriedly released him, jerking herself away. “Just… stay out of my way.”  

“I was never in your way!” He shouted after her, his voice still shaking.

She should have stuck to her own demand and kept her distance; she was already aware of how much trouble this prisoner was capable of. But she took pride in her abilities to gather information of interest. And god, was Fuuta interesting. 

Between his constantly running mouth and his never running filter, he was always keeping her on her toes. She’d never met anyone who pressed her for answers like that – Fuuta was never satisfied with the explanations that could placate everyone else. He was always questioning, always pushing back. Though his talk could be as shallow as the older prisoners' melancholy musings, or the children’s gossipy chatter, it was different when he and Kotoko really went at it in a debate.

Fuuta talked shamelessly about society, about the other prisoners, and about her. The others kept their distance from someone as quietly calculating as her, but Fuuta would pour out his thoughts right to her face. He had her back when she was trying to prove a point to the others, but was too stubborn to compromise on any of own opinions when they conflicted. It was refreshing. 

And that was all it was, she would remind herself. The man would be insufferable if he was ever under the impression that she so much as tolerated his company. For everyone’s sake, he should remain completely unaware.

Awareness, however, was the very thing Kotoko prided herself in. She picked up on exactly what the warden was trying to communicate by granting her innocence. She was aware of the opportunities that arose with their disappearance. She noted the best time to fulfill her duties to them. She knew the optimal order to attack each prisoner in, to guarantee success.

It was due to her beloved observation skills that she found herself in cell 003 in the middle of the night. It didn’t matter how many training sessions Fuuta had spectated, or how many she’d invited him to join – he wasn’t as perceptive as she. He couldn’t predict or counter a single one of her movements. It only took a few moments for her to have him pinned on the ground.

“Y-you were serious?” Fuuta managed, even as her weight made it difficult for him to breathe. 

She’d confided in him about her deal with the warden, one late night long before verdicts were announced. She didn’t know what had driven her to do it. It had been a rare lapse in her judgment. The current situation only confirmed why she should never reveal more information than necessary. Why she should get closer to someone than necessary. 

“I am always serious.”

“Kotoko…”

She knew all of Fuuta’s typical arguments and excuses, and she had a rebuttal for each. She wound her arm back, her brass knuckles reflecting in the dim panopticon light. 

“...J-just… do it fast.”

Kotoko’s arm wavered. 

“What?”

“I’m not a fucking idiot. Even before that brat called you innocent, I knew that y-you were the one in the right. I used to think that you and I were the same, but I know that was all a lie. You were always the real hero. M-more than anyone else in this shithole. So…” Fuuta closed his eyes, squeezing tears from them. “Make it quicker than you did for that asshole, will ya?” 

Kotoko gripped her fight tighter. It was trembling. 

Fuuta’s eyes remained shut in fear. In trust. His breathing was erratic as he pretended not to be crying or struggling from the pressure on his lungs. He grit his teeth, preparing himself for what was to come. Kotoko prepared herself as well. 

Releasing a cry, she swung forward. The moment before her brass knuckles clashed with the floor, just to the left of Fuuta’s face, Kotoko realized one thing:

Kajiyama Fuuta was indeed nothing but trouble.

[sonknuxadow]

if you could add the werehog to one game he wasn't in, which one would it be and why?

this isnt even a game i would consider one of my favorites but honestly sonic generations is the big one coming to mind right now. because if they were to bring the werehog back for just One game id like for it to be done in a way that makes sense for the story being told/the gimmick of the game and out of all my already existing options i think the one where the whole deal is celebrating sonics history and revisiting past games would be a good fit . and i dont think this hypothetical version of the game should be heavily werehog focused since its meant to be celebrating the series as a whole and too much unleashed stuff might feel weird/out of place but maybe they could make it where the time eater thing allows sonic to use some old one-off abilities associated with certain games and werehog is one of them . like maybe rooftop run act 2 is a nighttime stage now . idk if thats a good idea im just talking here

also i think it would be fun to get to see more of sonics friends interact with him as a werehog and sonic generations has a lot of characters in it

[bacchuschucklefuck]

and! barbarian!fig! its her

[floorpancakes]

im having thoughts about gay people again