#you can even have a lot of fun with it!! I love getting high with my wife and watching movies and making fun of them - oh they didn't

[solxamber]

I loved the platonic Malleus helps Yuu get Idia fic and I was wondering if you could so something similar with Cater or Trey or Vil or Leona or Floyd? You can choose, anything like that would be amazing my liege.

you asked and i answered, i love this concept so much

Fae Courtship 101: Romance for Dummies || Floyd Leech

In your desperation to confess to Floyd, you made the grave mistake of recruiting Malleus for help—now the only thing you’re courting is death.

For reasons beyond mortal comprehension—beyond your own comprehension—you have fallen for Floyd Leech.

Floyd. Leech.

The man who treats personal space like a suggestion, bites people for fun, and once chased a first-year across campus while laughing like a slasher villain because he was “bored.”

The man who once tried to sell you to Azul in exchange for a really nice hat. The man who could, at any given moment, be contemplating something as simple as “what’s for lunch” or something as horrifyingly chaotic as “what if I threw the prefect off the third-floor balcony to see how they bounce?”

It’s a bad idea. Objectively, scientifically, in every single way, this is a mistake.

Grim and Deuce have been holding interventions. The ghosts of Ramshackle have been looking at you like they’re already preparing to welcome you into their ranks. You're rapidly losing the moral high ground in any discussion about Ace’s bad life choices.

But the heart wants what it wants. And unfortunately, yours wants to make terrible decisions.

Which brings you here, pacing alongside Malleus Draconia, crown prince of Briar Valley, king of ominous nighttime strolls, and your designated therapist for the evening.

“I just—I don’t get it, Malleus!” you wail, gesturing wildly as you stomp through the moonlit campus. “I should like normal people! People who don’t consider attempted murder to be a love language! I should have instincts!”

Malleus hums in thought. “Hm. Concerning.”

“Exactly!” You throw your hands up. “I should be running in the opposite direction! Instead, I’m over here, wondering if he’d bite me gently if I asked nicely!”

Malleus stops walking.

You stop too, looking over to see him gazing at you with a carefully neutral expression. There’s a brief silence. A beat. And then, slowly—gravely—he nods.

“Understood.”

You blink. “...Huh?”

He turns to you with the air of a man who has just accepted a sacred duty. “You have chosen a perilous path, Child of Man.”

You stare. “I—??"

“But fear not,” he continues, raising a hand to his chest in solemn promise. “I shall help you attain your romance.”

Silence.

A breeze rolls through the courtyard. A crow caws in the distance. Somewhere, Grim is experiencing a deep sense of foreboding.

“…You’re going to what?”

Malleus nods again, expression determined. “Leave it to me.”

You suddenly have so many regrets.

Grim looks at you the way a doctor looks at a patient about to flatline. Gravely. With pity. With deep concern for the irreversible damage.

"Okay, listen hench-human, I’ve let a lot of things slide, but this? This I gotta ask—do you hate life that much?"

You blink at him. "What?"

Grim waves his little paws dramatically. "First, you fall for Floyd of all people. That’s already a death wish. And now, you’re actually listening to Malleus for dating advice? What’s next? You gonna ask Kalim for tips on financial responsibility?!"

You open your mouth. Close it. You… okay, you really have no defense. But before you can say anything—

There’s a knock at the door.

And you don’t even have to guess who it is.

You open it to find Malleus standing there, his expression set in earnest determination. In his hands is a book that looks older than your grandmother. The kind of ancient tome that looks like it holds dark secrets, forbidden spells, possibly even a recipe for soup made from human souls.

Standing right next to him, grinning like a goblin, is Lilia.

You feel your soul leave your body.

"Ah, Child of Man," Malleus intones. "I have found it. The ultimate guide to fae courtship rituals. You shall use these techniques to win the heart of your eel."

"Oh, this is gonna be fun," Lilia cackles. "Do you know how long it's been since I’ve seen these methods in action? The devastation! The absolute carnage!"

You stare at them. You stare into the abyss. The abyss grins back.

Grim looks at you, his face a perfect picture of someone watching a loved one make the worst life decisions in real time.

"You’re really doin’ this, huh?"

…You sigh. "Yeah. I’m really doing this."

You are simply minding your own business, walking to class like a normal person, when you spot Floyd approaching from the other end of the hallway.

As always, you smile at him, because you have fully accepted your fate as a fool with horrible taste in men. You expect him to either grin back or threaten to suplex you for fun—classic Floyd things.

What you do not expect is the sudden sensation of a phantom hand shoving you forward.

And just like that, gravity wins.

You crash into Floyd with all the grace of a drunk goose, smacking into his chest with enough force to send both of you stumbling. Floyd barely moves (because he is built like a problem), but you rebound like a cartoon character, nearly falling over before his hands land heavily on your shoulders.

For a brief, dizzying moment, you stare at him.

Then, slowly, your brain remembers what just happened, and you whip around—

Only to see Malleus standing at the end of the hallway, looking extremely pleased with himself.

He gives you a smug, regal nod.

He is also holding a book titled "How to Romance for Dummies."

You are going to throw hands with a literal prince.

Before you can implode, Floyd’s grip on your shoulders tightens. You turn back to him, only to find him looking entirely too displeased about being your impromptu landing pad.

“Shriiiimpy,” he drawls, squinting at you like a judge in a courtroom drama. “What’s up with that, huh? Tryna tackle me first thing in the morning?”

“I—I tripped!” you stammer, trying to collect the shreds of your dignity. “I didn’t mean to crash into you, I swear!”

Floyd hums, unconvinced. Then, after a beat of consideration, he shrugs.

“Aaah, whatever.” His fingers dig just slightly into your shoulders, a slow grin stretching across his face. “You still ran into me, soooo… you owe me.”

You blink. “Wait. Owe you?”

“Mhm!” His grin widens, teeth sharp. “Now ya gotta hang out with me today.”

You blink again. Slowly. You could argue, but you have a sneaking suspicion that it won’t get you anywhere, and honestly? Maybe this is exactly the opening you need.

Maybe… Malleus isn’t that bad at this.

You take that last thought back immediately.

Because not even a day after that whole hallway fiasco, Malleus finds you again, pulls you aside with all the gravitas of an ancient ruler about to bestow divine wisdom, and insists that, in order to properly court Floyd, you must—

Compliment Floyd’s strength three times. At first, you thought, okay, easy enough, I can just tell him he’s strong and call it a day. But then—THEN—Malleus, in his infinite wisdom, handed you a quill and parchment and declared, “It must be in verse. Poetry carries the weight of true devotion.”

And now, here you are.

Standing in front of Floyd Leech. Holding a piece of paper with the most cringe-inducing attempt at poetry you've ever written in your life.

Floyd, to his credit, was already giggling the moment you approached with a look of sheer suffering. But when you clear your throat and attempt to actually read the thing—

"Oh mighty Floyd, with hands so bold—"

He just. Loses it.

Absolutely wheezing, doubling over, practically using you as a support beam to keep himself upright.

You glare at him and continue, determined to power through:

"A force unmatched, a tale retold—"

Floyd: "PFT—!!!"

He’s straight-up crying at this point. Tears. You swear you hear Jade laugh somewhere in the distance.

You don’t even make it to the third compliment. You just turn on your heel and walk away before your soul crumples in on itself like a dying star.

Malleus, watching from afar, sighs in clear disappointment. “You lack dedication,” he murmurs, shaking his head like an elder watching the youth fail at life.

You absolutely regret everything.

You don't know why you keep letting Malleus give you advice. Actually, no—that's a lie. You do know. It's because the second he heard you liked Floyd, his eyes lit up like he’d just been given a personal quest by the divine forces of romance, and now he refuses to rest until your love is secured.

Unfortunately, this means you are currently locked in yet another horrendous discussion about fae courting rituals.

"Scent-marking is a vital step in courtship," Malleus declares with the kind of grim authority that should be reserved for battlefields, not this. "He must recognize you as his."

You blink at him. "Oh, like giving him my hoodie or something?" That’s normal. That’s doable. That’s the kind of thing people do when they like each other, right? You’ve seen couples swap sweaters before. Maybe Malleus is finally onto something not-insane.

Malleus shakes his head gravely. "No. You must present him with something you have personally scented. Ideally, by rolling upon it."

Silence.

Rolling upon it.

You stare at him. He stares back. Completely serious.

You try to process what he’s just suggested. What he has just, with full sincerity, told you to do.

"Malleus."

"Yes?"

"You want me to roll around on an object like a dog and then give it to Floyd."

"Precisely."

You briefly consider just walking into the ocean.

It takes twenty full minutes to talk him down from this absolute lunacy and convince him that simply giving Floyd a sweater you’ve worn will do the job just fine. He looks at you the way a disappointed coach looks at a failing athlete.

"If you are not dedicated to the craft," he mutters, "you cannot expect great results."

You pretend you don’t hear him.

Fast forward to the next day, and you are sitting in class next to Floyd, who is draped over his desk in a deep and powerful boredom coma.

You pull out the sweater and awkwardly nudge it toward him.

"Here."

Floyd immediately perks up. Dangerously interested. He tilts his head, peering at the sweater like you’ve just handed him a rare treasure.

"Eh? What's this?"

"It's mine. You can have it," you say, trying to play it cool, despite the fact that your entire soul is trying to flee your body from embarrassment.

Floyd picks up the sweater and—without hesitation—presses his face into it.

You almost die. Right then and there. Instant expiration.

He leans back in his chair, grinning way too wide. "Heheh~ You smell nice, shrimpy~"

You barely manage to hold onto your composure. You are barely hanging on.

Malleus, watching from the hallway, narrows his eyes and mutters, "It is not the worst effort... but it lacks the impact of true commitment."

You ignore him. You ignore everything. You're just grateful that—for once—this wasn’t completely unhinged, and that Floyd somehow seems to like it.

"Nothing says romance like a meal made with your own two hands!" Lilia declares, slamming an ancient, definitely cursed cookbook onto the table.

You blink down at it. The title is in some language that makes your vision swim just looking at it. The edges are charred, the pages stained with substances you’re 70% sure are not food-safe, and Malleus—Malleus Draconia himself, looks a little unsure.

That should have been your first hint.

But you? A fool. An idiot. A desperate, love-struck buffoon? You press forward.

“Alright,” you sigh, rubbing your temples, already regretting this. “What ingredients do I need?”

Lilia beams, flipping to a page that looks like it came from an alchemist’s horror novel.

"Let's see! We’ll need:"

• Moonshade Truffle,

• A pinch of Sablethorn Dust,

• Three drops of Evernight Basilisk Extract,

• Seven Tears of a Joyful Banshee,

• And a Love-Smitten Fire Spirit’s Breath!

…

You stare.

"Lilia."

"Yes, beastie?"

"These sound like potion ingredients."

"Oh-ho!" Lilia chuckles, waving a hand. "You humans always get so caught up in technicalities. But what is cooking if not a kind of magic?"

…No. No, this is actual magic. You are not making a love potion, but this sure as hell sounds like one.

But, like the fool you are, you go along with it. You spend far too much money (your entire savings) at Azul’s Most Definitely Not a Scam Emporium for all of these ridiculous ingredients. He knows you’re up to something dumb. He does not care. He simply profits.

And now, here you are. In the Ramshackle kitchen. Grim watches from a safe distance behind a chair. Malleus stands off to the side with his arms crossed, looking like he is rethinking his life choices. And Lilia, that menace, is watching you mix the ingredients like a proud mentor.

Everything is going fine. Suspiciously fine.

And then—

"Alright, time to bake it!" Lilia claps his hands. "It says here to bake at 350 for 20 minutes!"

You nod. This is reasonable.

"However!" He flips the page. "In the olden days, we used a slightly different method."

Malleus frowns. Your stomach drops.

"Instead of 350 for 20 minutes…" Lilia hums. "It says here—750 for 10!"

…

"What."

"Don’t be shy! Give it a try!" Lilia gestures for you to do it.

Malleus shifts, looking like he wants to intervene. Grim is slowly backing out of the room. You ignore all of this.

Because you are an idiot.

You turn the oven to 750. You shove the pan inside. You watch in real-time as your dignity burns.

The oven makes a sound ovens should not make.

Something explodes. The smell is indescribable.

When you pull the pan out, it is a pile of pure, blackened charcoal.

You are horrified. Malleus looks concerned. Grim looks betrayed.

"Are ya tryin’ to kill me, Henchhuman?!" Grim yells. "I thought we were friends!"

But Lilia? Lilia is nodding approvingly.

"Ah," he sighs, nostalgic. "Just like how I remember it."

…This man should not be allowed in kitchens.

But you, an absolute buffoon, take the charred remains of your so-called courtship offering and bring it to Floyd anyway.

You find him in the cafeteria, dump the plate in front of him, and sit down. Defeated.

Floyd stares. Pokes it with a finger.

And then, he looks at you.

With pity.

"Shrimpy." His voice is gentle. You feel a chill of fear. "You goin' through hard times or somethin'?"

…

You die inside.

Your cooking was so bad that Floyd Leech—FLOYD LEECH—was feeling sympathy for you.

You have never known such shame.

You sit there, staring into the distance like a soldier who’s seen too much. A philosopher pondering the futility of existence. A person who has scent-marked a sweater and written poetry at the behest of a fae prince who thinks you’re simply not dedicated enough to the craft of love.

You are contemplating life, death, and the many, many decisions that have led you here.

And then, Jade sits beside you.

You don’t even flinch. You should. You should be wary. You should immediately launch yourself into the bushes and prepare to be interrogated in some terrifying eel version of psychological warfare. But you don’t. Because you have nothing left.

So you just turn your head slowly, look at him with the dull, hollow eyes of someone who’s really going through it.

Jade looks positively delighted.

"My, my," he says, in that syrupy, knowing voice of his. "What could possibly put you in such a state?"

You inhale. Exhale. Consider your options. Death is looking really attractive.

"I don’t want to talk about it."

Jade hums, obviously entertained, but then—then—he decides to make it worse.

"You know," he muses, "even Floyd has started to get concerned."

You blink.

"…Huh?"

"Oh, yes," he says, resting his chin on his hand, enjoying every second of this. "Between the odd gifts, the unusual behavior, and your general aura of suffering, even he has begun to notice. Which means you are being particularly obvious, because he rarely pays attention to anything that isn't entertaining."

You don’t even have the energy to be embarrassed.

"What’s your point?" you mutter.

Jade smiles like a predator about to land a final, devastating strike.

"You should simply tell him. Because this…?" He gestures vaguely at your soul-deep despair. "This is rather pitiful."

You stare.

You process.

And, somewhere in the depths of your heart, you realize he’s right.

You are in shambles.

Like, properly, horrifically, soul-crushingly in shambles. You’ve been through so much. You've spent weeks engaging in increasingly deranged behavior at the behest of a well-meaning yet hopelessly out-of-touch fae prince. You've endured ritual poetry readings, scent-marking disasters, and a culinary war crime that left you emotionally and financially bankrupt.

And now, standing in front of Floyd Leech—the very cause of your descent into insanity—you finally snap.

"I LIKE YOU!" you blurt, voice cracking like a cheap mirror. "I LIKE YOU AND I'VE BEEN ACTING LIKE A LUNATIC BECAUSE MALLEUS SAID I HAD TO FOLLOW FAE COURTSHIP RITUALS AND I—" your voice hiccups, borderline hysterical, "—I THINK I LOST A PIECE OF MY SOUL WHEN I TRIED TO BAKE THAT DAMN CAKE BUT IT'S FINE, BECAUSE APPARENTLY THAT'S JUST WHAT LOVE IS??? AND I DID IT ALL FOR YOU, FLOYD, BECAUSE I AM A DUMB IDIOT WHO LIKES YOU FOR SOME REASON."

You gasp for air, because this has been a lot.

And Floyd?

Floyd is laughing.

Not just a chuckle, either. No, this menace of a man is bent over, hands on his knees, actually wheezing with mirth as if you’ve just performed the comedy routine of the century. His shoulders shake. His teeth glint in the light. He looks absolutely delighted.

And you? You just stand there, a broken, hollow shell of a human being.

"You should’ve just told me, Shrimpy~!" he cackles, wiping a tear from his eye. "I like you too, y’know?"

...

There’s a moment of silence as your poor, battered brain struggles to process this information.

"WHAT."

Floyd grins, like you haven’t just endured weeks of psychological torment at the hands of a dragon prince. "I mean, you’re fun! You make me laugh, and I like squeezin’ ya. ‘Course I like ya!"

Before you can even begin to formulate a response, he lunges forward and grabs you in a hug so tight that your ribs beg for mercy. You are crushed, consumed, engulfed in the sheer force of his affection. Your spine may never recover, but at this point, what’s another injury to your dignity?

And honestly? You don’t care.

Because he likes you.

Floyd likes you back.

Which means—you realize, tears pricking your eyes in relief—you never have to perform another insane fae courtship ritual again.

No more humiliating poetry. No more dubious scent-marking. No more playing Russian roulette with your digestive system in the name of romance. You did it. You won.

And then Floyd leans down, cups your face, and kisses you.

It's a little rough, a little overwhelming, but you melt into it anyway, because Sevens, you earned this.

Somewhere in the distance, Malleus Draconia watches from the shadows.

Arms crossed, nodding sagely, he looks upon his greatest success.

"My expert techniques," he murmurs, pride swelling in his voice, "have secured my child of man their eel."

Behind him, Lilia wipes an imaginary tear.

"Beautiful," he sighs.

Masterlist

[tooturtly]

Just so ppl know it does get better! I didn’t really have friends from ages 13-18, and even before then I always felt a little different (gay and neurodivergent). And yeah, it sucked. I thought I was doing everything right. I talked to people in class, I did extracurriculars, I was involved. But nobody was texting me unless it was about something school related. I wasn’t invited to anybody’s house. Twice the people I ate lunch with made homecoming plans but never invited me, I just showed up bc of how much they talked about it.

It finally took seeing the group of people I thought were my friends really overtly reject an openly neurodivergent guy from the friend group. Why? Because he talked too much, he was too sincere. It wasn’t any fault of his own. When I hung out with him in a smaller group, I had a blast. And I realized it wasn’t his fault or mine, but the people who I didn’t even like that much who were pushing me away. They were doing the same thing to both of us, and I should be pissed about it! (I still am, even know people change, it was still a shitty thing to do)

My senior year I finally put myself first and realized that having bad friends was worse than being alone. And I might as well be alone on my terms. I went to homecoming and prom by myself, I wore my own weird clothes and danced by myself just to have fun. I realized that going with those people had made me have less fun, because they hardly wanted to dance to the music if they didn’t know the song. I decided I was going to have fun and be my own person.

The only people I had who were friends were the older people at the game shop I went to. They were kind and patient with me when I didn’t know all the rules, and I’ve since lost touch with them but everyday I’m thankful that I had them in my life. Thank you for taking care of this weird teenager who was too loud and too pushy, and who you guided anyway! Thank you for humoring me!

And then I did find lasting friends. I graduated high school and found a group of amazing, nerdy, goofy people who I clicked with. We play D&D together, we eat together often, we share our stories, we talk and we laugh, we have inside jokes.

As I’ve gotten older I know I still have those moments. Even with my closest friends, I have doubts and anxieties about if they actually like me, if I’m a good and kind enough person to be able to sustain a friendship. Sometimes I think maybe I’m better off alone, because then any hurt I cause will only be me. I’ve never had friends before, I don’t know anything! Sometimes I think I’m too full of hurt to do anything but hurt. But I don’t trust those thoughts! My brain lies to me all the time! Those terrible twisted feelings never come from me, they come from a me that doesn’t know anything but pain and sorrow. I’m an entirely different person when the depression hits, and I’ve learned enough not to trust how I feel in those moments.

I know that I’m trying and my friends know it too. I’m not purposefully mean, I make amends when I make mistakes, which is all you can do because everyone makes mistakes. And I think about how much sadder my life would be without my support network. I would be miserable! Yeah I can do it alone, but I don’t want to! Doing it alone sucks! I love my friends! I don’t want to let them go, and they want me around. If my friends didn’t want me around, they’d tell me to pack it. Yet I’ve continued making friends, I find fun and weird people everywhere!

Fuck it, I’m gonna be me as much as I can! Life is terrible when you’re pretending to be someone else. And I’ve been lucky enough to find space irl where I can be me. If you can’t do that in person, go online, find community anywhere you can get it. I know I learned a lot from lurking online in high school.

My friends love me even though I have flaws, and I love them even though they have flaws. Including the anxiety and self doubt! Loving with flaws is human. Confidence is your armor against that self doubt. Even if it’s fake! Say fuck it and love your life, love yourself! The world is beautiful! Life is beautiful in those small moments laughing, in talking, in smiling.

Yes this is optimistic positivity! Because pessimism made me sad and being sad does not make you want to live! And I want to live. I made the choice once to live as much as I can. God’s tried to kill me twice and he has failed so far, so I will dance through life laughing.

I can still be depressed and I can still laugh! I can be lonely sometimes and still have friends! I can know that there’s always light at the end of the tunnel if I smile and greet the darkness as my friend.

On Isolation

[celeste-clearwater-06]

The Kitchen Window (pt. 3)

Bayverse! Raphael x Fem! Reader

desc- (April knows something is up with your story, and decides to investigate)

warnings - swearing (duh)

word count - 2.1k

READ PREVIOUS PARTS HERE- one - two

The first message pops up on your screen when you’re at one of the corner tables in the cafe, on your mandatory 30 minute break when she texts, drinking something that wasn’t on the menu. It’s from an unsaved number.

[hey! It’s April]

The first time she’s texted you after exchanging numbers. An easy smile comes to you.

[Can we meet up tomorrow? I’ve got a lead on a few break-in cases]

You set your cup down to respond, wiping your mouth with your sleeve and start typing back quickly.

[i’d love to, but i’m working a 6-9 :((]

She types and sends another message almost immediately.

[does tonight work then?]

She sure was relentless.

[sure! any place in mind?]

[would your place be okay?]

Your place? Your quiet, empty, drab apartment?

[yeah that works ! lemme send you the address. i get off at 7]

[awesome thxxx]

You laugh quietly to yourself while typing down the complex name and your room number. April seemed nice enough from the little you knew about her. Strong, independent, gorgeous. Vern was definitely trying to tap that. You really hoped he didn’t, but she read as a woman that could hold her own. You liked it.

Your coworker coughed to get your attention, indicating you’re 3 minutes past your break. You pocket your phone, and then stand to clock back in and finish the last half of another boring shift.

April’s already beaten you to your apartment, leaning against the outer wall by your door and looking down at her phone when you get there. Her head lifts with a pretty smile when you greet her.

“Hey! Sorry I’m running a little behind.”

Your hands fumble the key ring before shoving one into the lock and it twists with a click. She’s understanding.

“No worries. I’m glad we could meet up.”

“Sorry,” you’re quick to bring awareness to the nearly bare space when the door creaks open, “I don’t really have a lot going on in here.”

April scans the room while you shed your jacket and shoes, walking in and taking in stride the plain couch and old carpet.

“Wow. Kinda lonely.”

Ouch. Painfully truthful but, ouch. Way to beat around the bush.

“Yeah,” you huff, “I’m not here a lot. Or anyone else.” That statement proves false when a high-pitched meow and tinkle of a little belled-collar comes from the kitchenette. The cat is patting her little feet on the counter.

“Hey there kitty.”

Your visitor walks over to give her a little scratch under the chin, which she accepts gladly.

“Oh yeah, she’s here too. Watches over the house for me.”

April chuckles.

“What’s her name?”

“Vannie. Like Van Gogh.”

You thought the name was genius when you first picked it out, poking a little fun at her one missing ear. It sounded a little bit ridiculous now, when you were saying it out loud to another person. April’s eyes get this curious, excited little light behind them when she turns to look at you. What it’s about, you have no clue, and don’t care to ask.

“You named her after an artist.”

“Sure did.”

It’s odd to you, how that seems to be the kicker, but that thought doesn’t even reach the processing department of your brain before April reaches into her crossbody bag and pulls out a laptop.

“I wanted to show you some of these recent reports on break-ins in lower manhattan. Maybe we could try and find your guy.”

“Okay miss detective,” it’s a compliment you mean, well impressed with her dedication. She was just so cool. April flips open the screen and sets the device on the countertop next to Vannie, wasting absolutely zero time. You feel a little guilty there’s not even a table or chairs for the two of you to relax at.

She opens a file on the Home page with two clicks. Vannie paws at the clicker icon that darts around the screen.

The two of you share a little amused laugh, and then divert your attention to one of the worded documents that she’s scrolling through.

“Rising illegal activity… here.” April moves her face back so you can move in and scan over the report. It read along the lines of a few specific perpetrators and their repeated offenses of theft and breaking and entering in around the block you lived on.

“It’s weird,” April rests an arm on the counter in thought, “You said some guy stopped whoever it was trying to grab you from your window. A ton of the reports and witness statements I’ve read over mention similar stuff.”

This surprises you slightly. She opens a different report and lets you freely scroll.

All of the accounts have about the same cookie-cut story. A shadowed figure, moving in, attacking, and then disappearing with little to no trace. No descriptions, no clues to who they were.

You knew though.

“So like… a vigilante.”

“Exactly,” April confirms. The way she’s looking at your face, gauging a reaction, settles weird in the pit of your stomach. It’s like she already knows the answer, the big picture to this case you’re still trying to put together.

“And all of them seem to be, what, a guy with a weird amount of strength that’s kicking ass at night and leaving the NYPD to clean up their mess?”

“Or…” she knows you know something, and it’s making you break a little sweat under the building pressure. You’re suddenly uncomfortable.

“Or… More than one. You can’t cover that much area in such a short amount of time.”

“Right.”

You’re cracking under the weight of her curious stare in the silence of the room.

April O’Niel is fucking baiting you.

She wants you to tell her the truth about who, or what, stopped your attacker a few weeks ago on the balcony. And poor, unsocial, people-pleasing you just spills it out.

“Okay, I-I know this is gonna sound absolutely crazy.”

The words come flowing from your mouth, a sporadic spout of words that you can’t stop. Her eyes grow wider and wider as you admit you really did know what the guy looked like, and how he’d come to your window intentionally one night just last week. Maybe it was the pure lack of having someone personable (and also not a cat) to listen to your insane story that just keeps tumbling out. By the time you’re finished, April has the same look on your face that you did when you first encountered the giant turtle, like she was practically reliving the story in her own head. You’re breathless.

“I know it sounds like I’m insane, but I just couldn’t tell Vern,” you’re quick to your own defense, “He would never talk to me again. Nobody would.”

She just stands there for a minute in the quiet, gears clicking in that quick brain of hers.

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

You don’t believe that for a second. Her baffled stare just moments ago were a telltale sign of someone’s concern. April was probably already thinking of how to transport you to the nearest psyc ward.

“I get it, it sounds-“

“Look… I gotta take go take care of something,” she shuts the laptop and is already shoving it into her bag, while you stand there fumbling for something to say to try and convince her of your story, “I promise I’ll get back to you, this is just super, super important.”

She definitely thinks you’re crazy.

“April, please,”

She grabs your pleading hand in both of hers and pats it like an old woman pitying the poor.

“I’ll text you, when I get the chance.”

April leaves you standing, slouched with your arms just hanging defeatedly at your sides while she practically runs out of the door.

“It was good seeing you! Have a good night!”

It’s quiet all over again when the door slams shut. Vannie meows, like it’s a question and you look at her with a pathetic expression.

“She thinks I’m batshit crazy.”

But you’re so wrong, because as you prepare yourself for another night of restless sleep, April’s quickly walking down the stairs and out onto the street with a phone to her ear, and a satisfied smile on her face.

“Donnie?”

“Hey April! What’s up?”

“We gotta talk. I’m swinging by the lair in a few.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

The boys are all standing around their booth table (the really cool one they’d dragged down into the lair forever ago), mouths agape while April explains in confidence the situation at hand. Splinter is sitting next to her, with a wise, attentive ear.

Raphael is trying to brood at his friend practically snitching all of his secrets to his brothers and dad, but he’s still so shocked at what he’s hearing that his brows are curling in confusion rather than anger.

“I told you to stay away from her apartment, Raph!” Leo’s first instinct is to point an accusing finger towards his younger brother. He seethes at it but before he can get a snide remark out, someone’s talking again.

“I didn’t know Vern had a sister.” Donnie is stuck on the main focus of all of their surprise.

“Or, like, any family!” Mikey cuts in, “He’s a lone wolf.” He lets out a horrendous impression of howl, and performance of ripping a nonexistent shirt from his body like a werewolf. April snickers.

“Vern doesn’t talk about her much,” she defends, “I just met her last week.”

It really was a ridiculous coincidence that the pretty girl Raphael has been so unintentionally drawn to was stupid Vern Fenwicks younger sister. Though he doesn’t think it would have made a difference in the outcome of him silently following her home some nights to ensure she makes it there without incident. Thankfully, April doesn’t know this, otherwise she would’ve outed that information to everyone by now. The oldest of the four speaks again, desperate to turn this into some sort of lesson.

“If you’d just listened-“

“What’s done is done, Leonardo.” Splinter's voice is calm, but commanding, “You cannot change that she’s seen him.”

That finally silences Leo, but he’s visibly unhappy. Donnie speaks up again.

“So what does this mean for us?”

This renders all of them unanswered. It’s a complicated thing. They can’t make you just forget the multiple interactions you’ve had with Raphael. But how do they approach forward from here? April has a suggestion she’s been thinking of since she left your apartment.

“I think she should meet you guys.”

“WHAT?”

All four voices are overwhelmingly loud and surprised at the idea.

“It would only make sense. She knows you guys are out there every night, she’s seen Raph,” she lifts her hand to acknowledge the turtle who just grunts in annoyance, “And she totally thinks that I think she’s crazy. I feel bad.”

“I don’t know,” Donnie’s hesitant, “this isn’t a dire, life threatening situation where human interaction is necessary.”

“What if she tells her friends?” Leo adds.

April bites her tongue. As sweet and kind as you are, it would come as a surprise to anyone on the outside that you pretty much only talked to people at your job.

“She won‘t.”

“So many people have seen us out there, and they don’t need to know who we are. Why should she?”

“Am I seriously the only one here who digs the idea?” Mikey says, “We have, like, two human friends up top.”

Raph is the only one who hasn’t spoken up. Secretly, it excited him to think about meeting you with, hopefully, no repercussions. But also, so many things could go wrong. He doesn’t realize everyone’s staring at him, waiting for his input, until the silence draws on for just a little too long.

“Man, I don’t know about this one.”

“Come onn,” Michelangelo throws a soft punch at his shoulder, “You can finally introduce us to your girlfriend.”

Raph pushes the youngests’ face away with his palm.

“Knock it off, dumbass.”

“Splinter?” Leo looks to his dad for guidance. The party’s torn and he’s left to be the mediator. After sitting in thought for a moment, the rat speaks.

“I don’t believe it would hurt to indulge. If April trusts the girl, I cannot see a reason not to make an acquaintance.”

“She really is sweet,” April’s on your corner of the ring, and Splinter’s words credit her immensely. She can see them all look at each other and wordlessly cave in, one at a time. Mikey pumps his fists in the air with excitement.

“Okay so even if we do decide to meet her,” Leo’s already made up his mind, but pretends not to, “We can’t just bring her down here.”

A good point.

April gets another idea. She pulls out her phone and holds up her finger to pause the conversation.

“Hold that thought.”

And with another text sent, the plan’s set in place.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

*hands you this chapter with a wink*

PART 3 BABY, THINGS ARE GETTIN GOODDD

Sorry this chapter is a little shorter, but trust, I've already gotten the next chapter fully written out, and it'll definitely make up for it ;)

lemme know if you want to be a part of my slowly growing taglist, so you don't miss out on the next chapter!!!

THANK YOU BABES 🩷💕💓🧼🫧

taglist - [ @ladyofparchments @well-its-not-human-anymore @raphaelsrightarm @chiliiscereal @milkytheholy1 @moxfirefly @raphsgrl @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @imthegreenfairy86 @aurora-the-kunoichi @angelhazeisaweirdo @raisin-shell @fyreball66 @redsrooftopprincess @milykins @ahhhhhhhhhfuck @quitecontrary-to-mary @the-cauldron-witch @brins-rogers @yelocaltrashcan @pheradream-15 ]

[blurry-lock]

SECRET ADMIRER

Another Valentine’s special fic with Shidou!!

Plot: Shidou is your secret admirer! but you don't seem to notice it...

What you need to know: high school au, gn reader, reader is clueless, fluff, slightly suggestive at the end and i think that’s it!

Wrd count: 1.6k

This was the 10th time you opened your locker and found a pink envelope with a letter inside accompanied by some heart-shaped chocolates. You’ve been receiving this mysterious and anonymous letters from what he called himself 'the love of your life' you didn’t have any clue who it was, it was getting you very curious and somewhat frustrated.

“Another one y/n?” Your best friend, Isagi said as he tilted his head and took a look at the letter in your hands.

You sighed and read the letter, it said something about he wishes you success in the upcoming exams and how he ‘didn’t care’ about a simple grade but he wished you a good grade anyway and how it was cute seeing you so clueless about his identity. “This guy is really something…”

Even though you were frustrated that you didn’t know his identity, you liked all those letters, they were very beautifully decorated with a lot of pink and they made you blush every time.

As you arrived to class and sat down, you started eating some of the chocolates your secret lover gave you.

“Oh? Who gave you those? Can i have one?” Your seatmate, Shidou Ryusei, an intimidating but interesting guy who you sometimes talk to, asked with his typical teasing smirk.

“No you can’t, someone special gave them to me…” You brought another chocolate to your mouth already starting to blush from your own words and how Shidou looked at you as his grin widened.

“Special? Didn’t know you had a significant other” Shidou was having so much fun with this, you were absolutely clueless about how he was the anonymous person sending gifts to you.

Why he did this? It wasn’t even because he was scared you wouldn’t like him back or too shy to tell you, no. His reasons were simple, he just like the thrill of it, he wanted to see how long this would last, he was hella confident you will like him, he is just feeling a bit silly and he didn't care how obvious he was being, yet you didn’t catch on his clues.

“I have a secret admirer…” you whispered to him, looking around if anyone heard that. “I hate this secret guy… but i really love him too, it's so frustrating.” You leaned on your seat and covered your face, letting out a frustrated groan.

You’re so blind… and cute Shidou thought, chuckling at your frustrations. “What if he never tells you who he is?” Isagi who sat in front you turned to look at you, slightly worried.

“No matter what it takes i’ll find him.” You nodded with a determined look, Shidou just staring fondly at you. Your mind so occupied about this you didn’t even notice how he looked at you. Isagi did notice, but choose to not say a word, chuckling to himself and turning back again wondering what Shidou was up to.

Before you returned home from your classes you decided to leave a note inside your locker, hoping your secret admirer once again left something there and noticed your note. The note was simple “how do you open my locker every time without a key? Can you even give me a clue about your identity?”

The next day you even got early to school, almost opening your locker with urge only to see he did write something and left more chocolates for you.

“I know a lot of things sweetheart and for the clue, figure it out yourself ;)” you stared at his words, written with the bright pink gel pen he always used and sighed at his answer, expecting something more, you took a glance at the hallway when you caught Shidou staring at you with his signature grin, he waved slightly before he walked away.

You turn away immediately and blushed, could it be...? You shook your head and leaned against your locker. He can’t be, an intimidating troublemaker like him writing a love letter? Definitely wasn’t him, it was just a coincidence he was staring at you or that’s what you said to yourself.

This time you tried something different, you pretended to leave and hid on some bushes near the school entrance, where you had a slight clear view of the lockers. As you were squatting, trying to look at the lockers you suddenly felt a presence behind you.

“What are you doing?” A familiar voice called you from behind, causing you to slightly flinch as you stood up rapidly.

“S-shidou?! Me? I’m just sitting by the grass you know…” you said nervously as you felt your cheeks starting to get hot and red. “What are you doing here?” You raised your eyebrow suspiciously at him.

“I just finished soccer practice and saw you hiding in the bushes.” Shidou chuckled and tilted his head, playing dumb. “Are you waiting for something? Or perhaps… someone?” He smirked, teasing you.

“Ah, i see…” you looked away embarrassed, yeah he wasn’t your secret admirer, all of this was just some weird coincidences, right? “I’m leaving now…”

You left, defeated in your attempt to know this guy’s identity. You decided to bake some mini cupcakes for him since he always gifted you chocolates, as you arrived the next day at school you entered the classroom and left the cupcakes on your desk, suddenly you noticed you left something in your locker and went to get it leaving the cupcakes there.

When you returned you saw Shidou eating one of the cupcakes, you widened your eyes and walked up to him. “Those are not yours! Why did you grab one?” You crossed your arms, glaring at him.

“It said it was for your secret admirer” he smirked and shrugged, finishing one of the cupcakes.

“Yeah, my secret admirer not Shidou Ryusei!” You huffed and sat in your place, slightly frustrated that Shidou ate one of the cupcakes, but somehow you couldn’t stay mad at him.

Shidou just chuckled and shook his head, finding it cute and amusing the fact you didn’t catch his words. Isagi who was already sitting on his place and heard the conversation just face palmed and shook his head, now it was clear as water, he had his suspicions about Shidou and this confirmed it, god how is my friend so stupid please help he thought.

“Was it good at least?” You sighed, looking around Shidou with a slight pout on your lips.

“Very~” He smirked and leaned closer to you, so close you could feel his breath fanning your face. “You should make some more for me.”

You blushed and were about to say something when you were interrupted by the teacher arriving to class, he reluctantly pulled away and gave you a wink before turning his head to the board. Your heart almost coming out of your chest from the sudden closeness, but the weird thing was you weren’t bothered by it; you were confused as you were thorn between your secret admirer and Shidou, it was stupid to you since you didn’t even know the mysterious guy.

As your mind wondered you glanced at Shidou, noticing he was writing what it seemed like…. Notes? Okay that’s weird, he never does that and he is writing with a PINK PEN?! That’s too many coincidences now.

“See something you like?” Shidou teased as he noticed you were glancing at him which you quickly looked away and pretended to write notes. This time you decided to do something risky, something slightly wrong.

You waited until lunch were everyone left the classroom and when you were sure no one was around you took a look at Shidou’s backpack, hoping to find a clue or something that confirmed to you he was the one sending you all those letters. As you were checking his backpack you hear the door of the classroom opening, you froze and your hands started to sweat.

You turned around slowly and saw Shidou standing there, expressionless while he was holding a pink envelope. “S-shidou I… it’s not how it looks let me explain!” You stuttered and looked at him with fear as he walked closer to you, still expressionless.

He walked dangerously close to you and suddenly grabbed your waist, slightly lifting you and sitting you in his desk. He stood between your legs, gripping your waist tightly and keeping you in place. Your brain malfunctioned at the sudden position you were now in, your face burned and you swore you felt your ears numbing and your vision becoming blurry.

“Searching in someone’s backpack is wrong, ya know?” He smirked as his lips almost brushed against yours.

“I know I-“ you didn’t have an excuse this time, so you just let out a shaky sigh. “I’m sorry Shidou, i just…”

“Wanted to know if I was your secret admirer?” He tilted his head and chuckled slightly. “Asking me wasn’t an option then?”

You chuckled nervously realizing how stupid you were. “Y-yeah… I guess I didn’t think of that…”

“You’re such a dork…” he flicked your forehead and gently grabbed your jaw, caressing your chin with his thumb. “And here I thought I was being very obvious.”

You widened your eyes at his words, recalling the interactions you had with him, all his flirty and pretty obvious comments, how were you so stupid? The realization hit you as you looked at him embarrassed.

“Did I surprise you? Expecting someone else?” He teased, still holding your jaw as his other hand drew circles on your hip.

“I think all this time I wished it was you…” You confessed shyly, making his grin widen.

“Well, now that my secret is out” he placed his hands on your thighs and pulled you closer to him. “I’m all yours~” he leaned closer, his lips almost on top of yours, he was so close to kissing you.

“y/n are you he- Oh.” Isagi who just entered the classroom froze and chuckled nervously. “I-i’m sorry, I’ll talk to you later” He smiled and gave you a thumbs up before leaving the classroom.

Shidou chuckled at your embarrassed face, removing a strand of hair from your face. “So… where were we?”

Another Valentine’s day special, hope you like it!! English is not my first language sorry for any mistakes

Any requests or ideas are appreciated and welcomed <3

[felis-obscurus]

yeah uh huh. go ahead and buy that $20 hunting game on steam

ok but i’m being so forreal. you’re an animal? go and play theHunter cotw.

i didn’t see myself ever enjoying human hunting games, but it’s not this berserker shoot-em-up for white boys who would sooner give up their guns than just respect the animals they’re killing. it’s slow. you enter the game wondering if there even are any animals. you find tracks and amble along after them for minutes straight, wondering how dumb you look. you see that deer. you shoot it. you follow the trail of blood to your hunt. it’s so fun. it has quenched my prey drive better than literally anything else.

you can see soundwaves of animal calls in your peripherals, and then look at the source and see the gender, species, how far it is… droppings and blood tell you the vitality of the animal, the flow of blood, how recently it was there, where it leads. such a good ass game.

if the human stats aren’t to your liking, there are mods to decrease the sound you make, alter the speed of your positions, take less fall damage, be harder to spot… i personally use modbuilder revived on nexusmods. i like it a lot. i pretty much exclusively crouch with it sped up slightly, so my head is the correct height and i feel less disoriented. i love stalking and tracking so much.

honestly it’s a game i am genuinely surprised doesn’t cost $60, it’s extremely high quality and never gets old to me. i usually play for hours at a time. there’s a multiplayer function i haven’t tried yet but i imagine that would be fucking spectacular if you have therian friends and want to hunt in a pack.. (let me know if you want to.)

[inseparabiles]

Please, never apologise for your rambles. I love reading your tags and posts.

When Lucius interrupts him giving mercy

This kills the man. This is so embarrassing. At the opening of their games, this slave talks straight back to him - rejects his mercy - and then proceeds to kill his champion. In front of 50 000 people. Geta has no power here, and everyone can see it.

I think you could even argue when he tries to repeat the poem but doesn't remember it and Lucilla corrects him.

This? This whole thing: it starts from the night before, Caracalla is giving him hell for all his money's worth here over this. Lucius recites a poem - an extremely well-known one, from an epic everyone knows through and through, and a child would know to recite (the quote lines the walls of Lucius's childhood bedroom). Geta humiliates himself when he doesn't know how to react to it, and doesn't recognise it: Macrinus has to clarify for him, and then this fucking creature, who's high off his mind, flashing the room, making demands and being a big wasted slut, comes from behind him laughing like he always knew it was a fucking poem and that's the funniest shit that ever happened. The look Geta gives his twin when the scene ends is absolutely scalding:

(Even the fact that Caracalla actually does turn his gaze away by the time the camera cuts tells you how fucking livid Geta is, because in the pause, he first gives him a very teasing look. He's very clearly making fun of Geta, but the sheer brimstone he's getting in return actually makes him back off, even as intoxicated as he is he knows he's going too far.)

And now, when Geta brings it up again with this gladiator, just the fact that Caracalla doesn't seem to give one fuck about it. The way he dismisses him, again, in front of everybody. Not his concern, not important; Geta's thoughts are not important to him. He's left begging for anyone else to care - but he still can't remember the poem.

It might be a saving grace that Lucilla does, because if nobody helped him, he'd be standing there like a proper moron with no support at all.

Nearly getting shot by Lucius during the second colosseum game in front of his subjects. Could the average person sitting there really see that it was A: a deliberate shot into their seats or B: that it nearly hit Geta? There's a noise from the crowd that indicates yes, which I'm sure did NOT sit well with Geta. Even if Lucius was aiming at Acacius, Geta was almost grievously injured if not killed by a gladiator.

This. Dear gods. The only two people who know it was aimed at Acacius are Acacius and Lucius. Everyone else thinks it was meant for Geta. That is an open act of rebellion: no wonder he calls for all of them to be punished, and frankly I am stunned he didn't outright call for them to be crucified as a lot. I think that's only because it's Macrinus's crew that saves them.

When Acacius laughs while Geta is rambling about treason and betrayal.

At his fear. His terror, out in the open: at the reality of how close they came to death there, and at the thought of being written out of history, forgotten. Acacius laughs at him, at his most vulnerable - dismisses his fear, his pain, and the one thing he believes meant something to them. He's never learned the lesson that Acacius is not and has never been glory-seeking: his own worst fear is that no one will ever think more of him than his father did. That he'll never be anything more than a scared boy.

There is also that deleted scene where Caracalla asks where Geta is, seemingly forgetting that Geta is dead. I have no idea where that was supposed to fit into the movie, but either way the humiliation continues.

This is before Lucilla's execution; "Macrinus greets Caracalla", they're travelling from the Palatine to the Colosseum for the games in the morning, two nights after Geta's death, the day after Caracalla's appointment of Consuls. If I know how to read, anyway, I'm really bad at keeping track of days.

The thing that stings me about this is that in all of Caracalla's denial of what's happened, he thinks of Geta still as his biggest supporter: "He should be here. He would be so happy for me."

And he's right, because Geta would be. To see his brother rise to be the Emperor, in his full right. But the one person, this one and only person he thought loved him - who was a hellion, certainly, always getting on his nerves, always humiliating him, always crossing him, but still the closest to him, the most important person in Geta's universe - can't accept his death, refuses to acknowledge it or cannot (all of my money on cannot), and allows himself only to either think of him as something that was false and wrong and that had to be destroyed, or else still as someone who would have willingly stood aside for him to shine: who loved him unconditionally, and would have forgiven him for anything, and even then, would just step aside and let him shine. If he were able to. If he wasn't dead, with Macrinus using his remains as a grotesque statement to the change of power.

Whether Caracalla knows what Macrinus did with the head, or the body, I don't know. But he does know that Geta would always put him first. Even after his death, he'd still be happy for him to see him rise.

And he's right and he's right and he's right and that is the greatest tragedy in this movie to me. How Geta always feels so fiercely - but at every turn, he's denied that, he's humiliated for it, and then he's not only disposed of and used like a prop for shock effect, but forgotten like his worst fear was. Even by Caracalla. Even by his own twin, who he would have given anything up for.

I'm going to go deepthroat an electric eel now, bye.

moon, meet sun

[letupabit]

Are you ready to apologise?

A/N: IT IS FINALLY DONE. ALMOST THIRTEEN WORD DOCUMENT PAGES AND MY MAD RAMBLINGS ARE FINISHED. Holy SHIT this is long, but man I had so much fun writing it. Requested by @ryoko-loves-roses , thank you so much for your ask, what a gem you are!!

Summary: In-ho gets utterly fed up of Thanos' arrogance. He's had enough of seeing him bully everyone around as though he thinks he's invincible, and after witnessing him pick on Player 333 yet again, he decides he needs to teach him another lesson that'll really stick; even if that means using a rather...unconventional, method.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------\

‘The great Thanos and his team succeed again!’

In-ho, donning the fake name of ‘Young-il’ as he infiltrated the games, watched from where he and his team were sitting as the figure of Player 230 strutted through the dorm, the almost-comical gait adding to his obnoxiousness. Yes, the Frontman was purely playing pretend, but one thing he could never stand was arrogance- especially from the younger generation. Young-il quietly scoffed as he saw the purple haired man direct a nasty glance toward Player 333, who was sitting innocently at his bunk. 

Player 230, otherwise known as Thanos, quite obviously had a humongous ego, assuming himself untouchable. The way he spoke to others, even sometimes his own teammates, was nothing short of downright disrespectful. In-ho thought back to when he had to break up a fight between 230 and 333- the sheer arrogance of the man was staggering. He couldn’t help but feel a wave of satisfaction as he recalled how he decommissioned both Thanos and his little crony, 124, in a few swift moves. 

This alone should have humbled the both of them. Player 124, Nam-gyu, had an obvious tendency to blindly follow Thanos, although this was mostly down to the fact he had become strongly dependant on the drugs Thanos supplied- nobody knew the specifics, but it was glaringly obvious that the two players were high on something 100% of the time. Even so, Nam-gyu wasn’t anywhere near as bold or brass as his pill-popping friend.

But Thanos’ failed attempt at a fight hadn’t seemed to falter his ego.

He was still the exact same conceited, opinionated person he had been since the beginning of these games. One look at him and it was obvious there wasn’t even a shadow of a doubt that he thought himself above every other player, utterly convinced that the prize money would be his. He cared about nobody other than himself. 

In-ho couldn’t stand him. He couldn’t stand his arrogant attitude, his dismissive nature, his obvious natural instinct to treat the people around him like dirt. Whilst yes, he himself was manipulating his ‘teammates’, he had an awful lot of respect for them, and could willingly admit that they were truly good people. Thanos, on the other hand, was seemingly far too high to even recognise other people as people. 

In-ho also couldn’t stand the fact that Thanos didn’t take anything seriously. 

Not only had The Frontman infiltrated the games to manipulate Gi-hun, but he was also purely curious and intrigued to see the extent of human nature up close- the raw, primal extent of human nature; How far would people go to save their own skins? To ensure themselves a future?

This stupid, happy-go-lucky idiot was ruining it for him.

Whilst, yes, he still had 454 players who were authentic, the very existence of Player 230 was so over the top it practically nullified his observance of everyone else. After every death, every vote, every win or lose, Thanos would be prancing around like a little child, chanting some absolute nonsense that In-ho didn’t care to give a second thought to. Despite his attempts to drown this specific player out, he just…couldn’t. 

Wherever he looked, 230’s exaggerated mannerisms or catch-phrases were annoyingly attention-consuming. 

‘I swear I saw him kick his own teammate to the floor to free up a room…how can he be so happy right now?’ remarked Jung-bae, sitting with a protective arm around Dae-ho, who was fully invested in devouring his bean bun.

‘He’s obviously on something. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?’ Dae-ho replied, his mouth half-full.

‘Of course I have. But surely he’d still have some kind of remorse?’

In-ho scoffed at this.

‘Someone like him isn’t able to feel remorse’ He passed his own meal wordlessly to Jun-hee, who was sitting beside him. She gratefully said a quick ‘thank you’, In-ho nodding back at her. Unlike the actual players, he didn’t need to worry about a ‘last meal’. 

‘Even without those pills, I doubt he’d care’ He said, staring at Thanos, who was now harassing his younger teammate, Player 125. In-ho narrowed his eyes as 230 slung his arm around Min-su, his affection obviously just thinly-veiled manipulation. 

‘He’s clearly just in this for himself. He’d kill his entire team if it meant he got out of here alive’

In-ho’s team went quiet, unsure of what to say to this. Jung-bae and Dae-ho exchanged glances, whilst Gi-hun gave a quick look at his friend before staying silent himself. Honestly, they were all in agreement- Player 230’s obnoxious behaviour was distracting, but it would’ve been all too easy to fall into a negative discussion spiral, and that’s the last thing they needed- or, wanted.

In-ho quickly picked up on this, ever the socially-adept person he was. 

‘Ah, I’m sorry- it just grates on me that he could be so oblivious at a time like this, aha’ relaxing his face into a charming smile, he thought quick on his feet, not wanting to decrease his team’s morale. After all, these were the people he’d be sticking with until the end- and as much as he didn’t like to admit it, he was quite fond of them in his own way.

They settled into idle conversation, casually chatting about this-and-that. For a while, in a long long while, things seemed…normal.

However, just as In-ho had gotten comfortable, forgetting his grievances, he couldn’t help but notice some kind of…of…god, what was going on over there? 

He reluctantly shifted his gaze over to the other side of the room, a clear scuffle taking place. Player 333 was picking himself up from the floor, evidently having been knocked down, his stance defensive and on edge. He was angrily staring straight ahead at- oh, for gods sake. 

Player 230.

He barked out something malicious, something In-ho couldn’t quite make out, before turning on his heels and walking back to his bunk. Player 124 trotted along next to him, smiling into his sleeve as they laughed nastily together about what had just happened. It was obvious they’d just been in another two-against-one fight, this realisation becoming even more evident as Myung-gi limped back to his own bunk with a sour look on his face.

The surrounding players who had gathered to witness the altercation slowly dispersed, the brief distraction over and relatively uneventful. Before long the dorm’s atmosphere returned to normal, everyone keeping to their teams.

However, In-ho was outraged. Those two still had the gall to pick on the same player he had previously separated them from? Still fighting in pairs against a single individual? Not even that, the smug look on Thanos’ face told him everything he needed to know. The purple haired man had learnt absolutely nothing- or, if he had, the drugs had clearly made him forget. 

Pain evidently didn’t work on someone like Thanos. He needed to be taken down a peg by something…sillier. Something that would really put him off engaging in his usual stupidity and bullying. In-ho narrowed his eyes in thought, and he formed an idea.

He got to his feet, ignoring his friend’s confused remarks, and strode purposefully towards the bed that Thanos sat on. His legs were crossed and he was leaning back leisurely, engaged in conversation with Nam-gyu who was standing next to him. They both seemed so relaxed- almost as if they’d forgotten completely the assault they just took part in. It wouldn’t be surprising, but it was more than likely they just didn’t care.

Nam-gyu was the first to notice In-ho as he approached quickly. Unlike his oblivious friend, he seemed to recall the ass-beating he received from the very person who was getting closer by the second, and he sheepishly halted his chatter and stepped back. Thanos was clearly too high to realise anything, or simply didn’t care, up until In-ho was standing directly next to his bed. 

There was a silence, the two of them staring at each other.

‘Uh, can I help you?’ Came Thanos’ laid-back response, only adding to In-ho’s frustration. 

Thanos suddenly got a knowing look on his face, remembering that this was the man who had showed him up not even a day ago. 

‘Didn’t I tell you not to gang up on people? Have you no shame? Are you scared you’ll be the one on the floor if you were to fight single-handedly, is that it?’ In-ho’s face was unreadable as he stared unblinkingly at Thanos, not wavering his gaze for even a second.

Much to nobody’s surprise, instead of apologising or even mumbling a hasty ‘I’m sorry’, Thanos jumped up to his feet with an indignant look on his face. The two men were now standing mere inches from each other, the taller of the pair glaring down at his provoker. It was no secret that despite the appearances, Player 230 held a very fragile ego. This insinuation that he couldn’t hold his own, on his own, completely enraged him.

‘What the hell are you talking about, old man? Why don’t you go on back to your nursing home over there’ he nodded pointedly at Gi-hun’s team, who were now watching with intent ‘and mind your own, yeah?’ 

Nam-gyu watched with wide eyes, standing to the side of the tense duo, making sure to keep somewhat of a distance. He felt a phantom pain shoot down his shin as he recalled the sharp kick he’d received during yesterday’s fight.

‘You’re a joke. Flaunting yourself around, shouting nonsense. When was the last time you were sober for more than five minutes?’

At the mention of his drugs, In-ho noticed Thanos’ eyebrows twitch uncomfortably. Hm, seems he hit a nerve. Let’s see what he could do with this…

‘Tell me honestly, who are you when you’re not forcing pills down your throat? Do you even know?’

This burrowed itself deep under Thanos’ skin and was the comment that sent him over the edge. In-ho took a step back, anticipating the fist that flew past his head, Thanos playing right into his trap. 

Grabbing the younger man by the elbow, Player 001 effortlessly threw him back onto the bed. Thanos yelped, pulling himself further onto the mattress in an attempt to make space between him and In-ho. 

‘What the fuck, boy!’ He shouted, as if he hadn’t literally thrown the first punch. For a man of smaller stature (although Thanos would phrase that in a slightly less polite way) his strength jolted him back into reality, almost as if he were remembering how easily it was for Player 001 to decommission him in yesterday’s fight. But alas- his ego overshadowed that brief logical thought.

He attempted to stand back up, more than likely planning yet another punch, but In-ho bent down and shoved him right back onto the bed. 

‘I’m not sure where you think you’re going’ Muttered In-ho, not really caring if the protesting man heard him.  He remained bent over Thanos, his hand firmly on the younger man’s chest, putting his whole weight on him and effectively holding him down. Out the corner of his eye he saw the blur of Thanos’ fist coming up to sock him in the jaw, but his fast reflexes kicked in and he grabbed the offending wrist, pinning it to the bed roughly.

‘OW! Fuck you man! Get off, you’re hurting me!’

‘It only hurts because you’re struggling, relax your arm and you’ll be fine’ Replied In-ho matter-of-factly.

‘Like fuck I’ll relax! You’re fucking crazy, what the hell are you doing?’ The fight in the younger man was strong, even in such an obviously one-sided situation he didn’t relent in hurling insults and profanities. In-ho chuckled inwardly- what an idiot.

Before In-ho could reply, he heard footsteps rapidly approaching. More than likely another one of Thanos’ cronies- Fuck, he couldn’t believe he had been caught off guard like that- 

‘Young-il! Are you alright?’

In-ho sighed a small breath of relief, his dark eyes never having left his victim. That was unmistakably the voice of Gi-hun, the dark-haired man rushing to his side after he had witnessed everything. Young-il was his friend, and in this shithole they had to have each other’s backs. 

Young-il finally broke his relentless glare aimed toward the squirming man underneath him, turning to look at Gi-hun, his eyes softening. 

‘I’m just fine’ He remarked, ‘him, on the other hand, maybe not’ He directed his gaze back at Thanos, who was frantically pushing at Young-il’s chest with his free, non-dominant hand. 

‘Get OFF me, boy! You’re going to fucking regret this!’ He snarled, his anger building by the second. He wanted so badly to just beat the hell out of him but he simply couldn’t get free. The hand on his chest kept him pinned to the bed, the other hand holding his wrist down making it impossible for him to escape. That didn’t stop him, though- he squirmed and wriggled and kicked, however everything he tried proved to be completely uneffective. 

‘Tell this fucking psycho to lay the hell off!’ He shouted, craning his neck to meet Gi-hun’s eye.

Young-il turned back once again to say to his friend, ‘He’ll tire himself out in a minute. Come closer’

Gi-hun did as he was told, truly intrigued by whatever it was Young-il had in mind.

Player 124 had retreated to a higher bunk, keeping a keen eye on the scene below. He wanted to help Thanos out, truly he did (if only to save his drugs more than anything), but he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against Young-il; not even mentioning player 456. Together they were a formidable team and he didn’t fancy going up against them on his own. He started to realise how Myung-gi must’ve felt…

‘Are you fucking deaf?! The two of you are insane! I’ll kill you both! Slit your throats whilst you’re sleeping!’ Wow, Young-il thought to himself. He must’ve been really high to make such intense threats despite obviously not having the upper hand. 

Speaking as if he didn’t even hear Thanos, Young-il said- ‘Hold his arms, Gi-hun’

‘What are you going to do?’ Asked Gi-hun, already very hesitant to go along with Young-il’s request. He had rejoined the games solely to save other players, not to inflict additional harm upon them. Even if they were arrogant nuisances. 

‘I don’t plan on hurting him- it’s not my style to stoop to harming defenceless individuals’ he looked down pointedly at Thanos, blatantly referring to the 2-on-1 fight with player 333. ‘I’m just taking him down a peg’ he braced himself as, at this, Thanos renewed his struggling. 

‘FUCK! Let me go or I’ll skin you alive!’ His threats, although most likely not empty, were completely unattainable. He was absolutely stuck.

At this, Gi-hun set himself at the other side of Thanos’ bed, grabbing the purple-haired man’s arms, holding them securely out the way. He still didn’t know what the purpose of this was, but he trusted Young-il to not shed any blood- especially to an, although annoying, helpless man.

Young-il stretched his now empty hand, satisfied that both of them were now freed up. This would make it a lot easier to carry out his plan- thank god for Gi-hun, eh?

He began to speak, this time directed at the squirming man beneath him.

‘Was yesterday not enough of a lesson for you? You think it’s big and clever to go two against one, huh? Maybe you just need to see what it’s like for yourself’

‘I swear boy, if you so much as TOUCH me I’ll-‘

‘You’ll what? You’re pathetic, look at you. You’re lucky I have more integrity than to harm someone who can’t fight back’

Gi-hun, not knowing what to make of the situation, felt Thanos’ wrists strain against his grasp. 

He was both relieved and confused. Relieved, because it truly did seem like Young-il wasn’t intending to inflict pain. However, confused, because if he wouldn’t be hurting Thanos, what on Earth could-

‘AH!’ 

Gi-hun was brought back from his thoughts by the sound of Thanos yelping. Young-il, having shifted the hand pressing on Thanos’ chest, was digging with a single finger at the skinny man’s ribcage. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly- that was just the reaction he needed.

At his friends confused expression, Young-il said ‘I told you I wouldn’t hurt him, Gi-hun’. He smiled at his friend, excitement sparking in his eyes. His finger continued digging, finding its way inbetween a higher rib. He noted how Thanos tensed up and his angry yelling (attempting to hide his strained giggles) got louder- ah, jackpot.

He focused his energy there, still using just the one finger, and felt a sense of immense satisfaction as Thanos crumbled immediately.

‘AHAHAHAHA! FUHUHuhuhHUHUCKING GEHEHET OHOHOFF!’ 

‘Wow, all this fuss from just one finger, huh?’ Taunted Young-il, smirking nastily down at the now frantically laughing man. ‘Is this why you always fight unfairly? Scared that your opponent will find out and you’ll be stuck laughing until you cry?’

Thanos couldn’t reply. All he could do was take it. He could feel a burning anger at this humiliation, unable to verbalise just how furious he was. He wanted nothing more than to hurl insults and threats, but everytime he tried to do so it was rendered unintelligible through his hysterics. He shook his head from side to side, the sensation driving him insane. Oh, how he’d love to just punch the pair of these fucking assholes- 

‘AhahahAHAHAHAHAAHA! FUUHUhuHuhuHUHUCK YOU- EHEHAHAAHAHA!’ He was pulled out of his frustrated thoughts by the sensation of Young-il using the entirety of his hand to tickle him now, the feeling getting so much worse. His other, now non-occupied hand, secured itself firmly to the other side of his ribcage, methodically squeezing up and down.

 Thanos screamed and his legs kicked out. Fuck, this was bad. He had no control over his own reactions, his hands wildly trying to grasp at anything to alleviate the horrible feeling.

Young-il rasied his eyebrows. ‘Ohoho, this must be a really bad spot, huh? Or maybe you’re just that sensitive?’

Meanwhile, Gi-hun couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. He was glad Young-il wasn’t hurting the laughing man, and although he was still humbling him, tickling wasn’t anything dangerous. It left no marks, excluding Thanos’ bruised ego. Although he still had a vague sense of uncertainty, he decided this was probably the best outcome in a place like this.

And, If anything, it was pretty funny to see the usually so arrogant Thanos on the verge of tears and laughing his head off. He could feel from holding the wrists of the druggie when a bad spot was hit- when a particularly more ticklish rib was assaulted, he would strain against his bonds harder, to no avail as Gi-hun kept a strong grip. 

‘This certainly was not what I was expecting, Young-il. Seems it’s effective, though’ 

‘I used to have to do this to my brother when he forgot his place’ Replied Young-il. ‘It always managed to get him back down to Earth when he thought he was bigger than he really was’ he shifted slightly as he felt Thanos’ legs kick out behind him. ‘But he was a good kid so I didn’t have to do it often- It’s a good job we weren’t brothers, Thanos. I have a feeling I would have to do this to you almost everyday’ The only response was a strangled growl that quickly dissolved into laughter as Thanos did his absolute best to throw out some wise-crack or insult. The fact he couldn’t defend himself with his usual quips enraged him, but he could do nothing but cackle.

The two older men chuckled. Gi-hun, readjusting his grip around Thanos’ wrists, saw the first hints of tears beading at the corners of Thanos’ eyes. ‘Do you think whatever it is he’s high on makes him more ticklish?’ There was a teasing tone to Gi-hun’s statement, and Thanos attempted to glare at the older man, completely failing as his features were twisted with forced laughter. Gi-hun met his eye, unable to keep a smile from his own face, raising his eyebrows in a fake display of confusion.

‘Hey, what’s so funny, huh?’ 

Young-il chuckled at this, forming his left hand into a fist and knuckling up and down the length of Thanos’ ribcage. His eyes screwed shut and he threw his head back, laughter coming through jagged breaths, feeling his arms ache from how hard he’d been trying to break them loose.

Well, actually, everything ached. His chest and stomach burned with the prolonged intensity of his laughter, his cheeks ached from his forced smiling. But worst of all, his ribs ached, having been non-stop assaulted for a while now. Thanos couldn’t focus on anything else but his rage and the unbearable sensations shooting down his sides- fuck, why was Young-il so good at this? His strong fingers didn’t miss a beat, hitting the worst spots along his ribcage. He quickly realised that Player 001 was picking up on his reactions to pinpoint what tickled the most, the older man scarily observant. 

He tried to hold back his reactions, but Young-il was absolutely devastating him, and he gave up as he laughed freely. 

‘Look how much you’re laughing, you must be loving this’ and then sarcastically, ‘oooh, bad spot?’ when Thanos’ laughter turned squeaky as he focused a knuckle on one specific rib.

‘Hey, Gi-hun’ Gi-hun looked up from the hysterical player. ‘It’s not really a two against one right now, is it? He needs to learn his lesson, so help me out okay?’

This took Gi-hun slightly by surprise. He looked back down at Thanos, who now had tears running freely down his flushed cheeks. 

‘DOHOHOHOHN’T FUHUUH-AHahHAHAHAHahahaha-FUHUHUHUhuhuhuCKING TOUHUHUCH ME!’ 

‘Can you not form a single sentence without cursing? Is your vocabulary that stunted?’  Young-il, much to the immense relief of Thanos, stopped his assault. The older man wanted to give him a chance to speak- and maybe false hope that the attack was over. It was a mean thing to do, but Young-il thought it would be amusing to let the purple-haired man think he was in control, only to rip it away.

Thanos immediately gasped much-needed breath, his chest heaving. He blinked away tears, turning his head to the side to dry his damp face with his shoulder. 

‘Yeah, that’s what I thought…fuckers…I’m gonna kill both of you’ he spat out through ragged breaths. The two older men shared a glance- even after all that, he was still just as cocky. He turned his head back to its position so that he was staring directly at Young-il.

‘You’re fucking crazy, man! Nam-gyu, get down here and help me!’

Nam-gyu wasn’t about to put himself in harms way, and this was even further solidified when In-ho turned his head toward him and said ‘If you interfere, you’re next’. 

Thanos felt a slight sense of panic that his only hope of escape was refusing to come down from his bunk. ‘Dude!’

Player 124 shifted uncomfortably in his bunk. ‘Sorry, man…you kinda got yourself into this one…’

‘Your friend knows what’s good for him’ said Young-il.

‘You’ve been throwing your weight around since these games started- you need to see that you’re not as invincible as you think’ he carried on, his tone similar to that of a parent chastising an unruly child, which only served to enrage Thanos further. 

‘Didn’t I tell you to save the lecture for your own kids, old man? Get off me now and I might not punch out what little teeth you have left’

Young-il snorted. 

‘Your attitude needs a readjustment, so I’m going to give you one last chance. You can apologise now and promise to stop being such a brat, or we can keep going until you learn’

Thanos laughed in his face, this time not from fingers in his ribs. 

‘Are you serious? You sure you haven’t popped something yourself, man?’ 

‘Is this really what you want to do? Think carefully’

Truthfully, Thanos could feel a knot of worry and dread in the pit of his stomach. He was astoundingly ticklish, as had been made obvious, and being stuck in such a position wasn’t…ideal. In the back of his mind he couldn’t help but feel like apologising wouldn’t be a terrible idea-

No! What was he thinking? He couldn’t let himself give in to something as stupid as tickling. Especially not at the hands of this old man, who had embarrassed him in front of everyone yesterday. He had an image to uphold.  But, this was a different kind of embarrassment… at least being caught up in a fight showed he wasn’t all talk. What was this doing for him, apart from making him laugh like a kid?

Again, his ego overruled any sensible thought, and he glared at Young-il with an arrogant sneer. 

‘I’ll say it again, you bastard. You’re going to let me the fuck go, or I’ll choke you in your sle-EHEHEHEP!’

He didn’t get to finish his sentence as his face broke into a huge smile and he was once again hurled into forced laughter. But it wasn’t Young-il’s doing. 

Confused, the shorter man looked up and quickly realised that Gi-hun had taken both Thanos’ wrists in one hand and was drilling his thumb into the hollows of his armpit. 

Noticing Young-il’s surprise, Gi-hun said ‘I was getting bored of listening to him talk. Besides, I like him better like this anyway’.

The two shared an amused smirk, and Young-il looked back down at their once-again squealing victim. 

‘NAHAHAhahahahAHA’ Thanos renewed his squirming, chest trembling sporadically as he couldn’t help but laugh with ticklish mirth.

‘You had more than a fair warning. I guess you wanted this, huh?’ Teased Young-il, bringing one hand to tweak at 230’s hip bone and the other to gently trace circles on his stomach. The light, fluttery feeling of his skilled hands was almost just as bad as the rougher tickles. 

Gi-hun picked up on this and moved his hand to Thanos’ neck, scratching and teasing with an almost delicate touch. The boisterous laughter died down to frantic giggles, becoming higher pitched. 

‘Awh, listen to him’ Cooed Gi-hun in a mockingly sweet tone.

‘Almost cute, isn’t he?’ Replied Young-il. 

Thanos was losing his mind, shaking his head back and forth whilst giggling uncontrollably. These lighter tickles were a whole different sensation and were all he could think about. His train of thought was derailing by the second, trying to use his head to knock away Gi-hun’s gently-tracing hands. 

It was kinda poetic- this man who was usually so confident in himself, so sure of his invincibility, reduced to nothing but child-like giggles. His styled hair was dishevelled and sticking out in all directions, his face flushed and cheeks shiny with ticklish tears.  

‘Maybe you’ll think twice before picking on someone weaker than you’ quipped Gi-hun, having admittedly a lot of fun. This unconventional method had taken his mind off the games and the usual anxiety that sat in his chest. 

Thanos felt a surge of panic as he felt Young-il’s hands moving back up to his ribs. Suddenly he wished he’d just apologised when he had the chance, his bravado falling apart as those same deft fingers returned to vibrating between his ribs. 

‘nonoNOHOHOHOHO NOHOHOHOT THEHERERE! STOHOHOHOP!’ The gentler tickles seemed a lot more appealing now as he screamed with laughter, his worst spots being assaulted at once. 

‘Not where? Here? Or here?’ Chuckled Young-il, punctuating each word with a jab. Gi-hun once again drilled at his armpit, watching with satisfaction as Thanos’ laughter somehow went up an octave. 

‘You know how to make this stop’ stated Young-il casually, as if he wasn’t wrecking the younger man. ‘Are you going to get a grip and act normal?’

Thanos couldn’t even reply, laughter going silent. His strength was completely sapped- as was his fight. He threw his head back angrily, knowing he had no choice but to give in. God, he hated these two. 

Forcing a ragged gasp, Thanos mustered up every ounce of willpower he had and started to beg. The tickling was too much and he knew when he was beaten, not even considering his ego or pride as he shouted out near-unintelligible pleading.

‘YES! YEHEHEHEHES YESYEHEHeheheHEehES! PL-AHAHAHA-PLEAHAHAHASE! AHAHAHAHAHahahAHAHA-!’ His laughter going silent once again. 

Gi-hun and Young-il shared a look, hands not relenting.

‘Think he’s had enough?’ 

‘YEHEHEHEHES! PLEAHAHASE! HEHEHAHAAHAHA!’

‘I wasn’t talking to you’ 

Gi-hun looked down at Thanos, who was absolutely beside himself. He didn’t want to kill the poor guy, but he thought he could prolong the fun just a little longer; after all, they could’ve been much meaner, and he had it coming.

‘hmmmm, I don’t know…’ he mused in an exaggerated tone, pretending to think. ‘How do we know he’s really sorry?’

All hopes of keeping his reputation intact had long flown out the window. Thanos would agree to anything at this point.

‘IHIHIHI- I AM! IM SOHOHOHOREEHEHEEHE! STAHAHAHAHAP!’

And suddenly it was over, the two older men stilling their fingers in synch. Gi-hun released the arms he held captive and Thanos immediately snatched them away, wrapping them round himself protectively. Young-il straightened up, looking down at the gasping man, who was now red faced and trembling with lingering giggles. 

He watched as he curled up, as if he were expecting the tickling to start up again. Thanos tried his best to glower up at Young-il but much to his annoyance, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. He attempted to catch his breath as he slowly pulled himself further onto his bed, trying to keep as much distance as possible.

‘F-fuck you guys’ he stammered out, quickly yelping an apology and holding himself tighter as Young-il raised his eyebrows, worrying that he’d just dropped himself in for another a round. 

But it was obvious in his now-meek disposition that his words were empty. Young-il patted him condescendingly on the cheek. ‘That was fun, but don’t make me do it again’.

The purple haired man watched in relief as his two attackers threw one last glance at him before walking back to their space in the dorm, as if nothing had just happened.

‘You were right, Young-il. That was a lot more fun than punching him’

Thanos glared at them (as best he could anyway) as they engaged in idle chatter until they were out of earshot. He jumped slightly as Nam-gyu dropped down from the safety of his bunk.

‘Er…you good, dude?’

‘Not. A. Fucking. Word’

[demigodsanswer]

what are some headcanons that you have for book percabeth?

I don't have a stable future headcanon for them, so these won't all be totally reflective of fics I've written before or will write in the future, but these are some of the main ones:

They actually wait quite a bit to have sex for the first time. They feel like so much in their life has been rushed, that they don't want to rush into that too.

That being said, they do take lots and lots of naps together, or share a bed at night the year following the Titan war. They are big, big cuddlers. No consensus on who is cuddlier. I think they both are.

Annabeth is a clothes stealing girlfriend, but she's actually not that much smaller than Percy, so he steals her hoodies right back.

Percy does graduate college with a higher GPA than her. He really excels finally being able to take classes he cares about. He studies Classics and secondary education with the intention of being a Latin teacher. Annabeth does study architecture at Berkeley, which is a harder program, which is why her grades are lower. She also majors in Philosophy for fun.

During college, their favorite date activity is getting high and going to the aquarium. "Annabeth, the fish can tell I'm high." "Oh shit, do you think they'll tell your dad?" Also all the fish call Annabeth things like "My lady" and "sea princess" because they think she and Percy are married. When they start doing this, Percy gets so red that Annabeth knows something's happened. He tells her, and she walks around so happy for the rest of the week. "You're that happy you got aquatic approval?" "Yes!"

They spend all of college talking about getting married and having kids as soon as possible. And then they get out of college and move back to New York, and they suddenly experience the unique horror of being in your early 20s. Suddenly they realize they cannot have kids right now, oh my god, they have no idea what they're doing let alone how to bring a child into all of this.

They do get married pretty soon out of college. The wedding is small and on the beach, but it's special and a big fucking party too. Percy tells her that he won't be mad if she doesn't take his last name, and also offers to hyphenate his name if they want to go that route. But she wants to be part of the Jackson family. But it does take her like 2 months to actually fill out all the name change paperwork.

Annabeth thinks she's going to get a simple dress, maybe even like a jump suit or something. But she's not liking anything she's trying. So the bridal consultant suggests trying something super girly, just as a pallet cleanser to see if they can maybe reassess what she might like. Annabeth finds this super girly blue ballgown and tires it on and falls in love. It's perfect. She actually cries. Sally cries (Sally is with her of course). Something like this --

They do have kids starting around age 27, after Annabeth has done her master's degree and gets a really nice promotion at her firm.

It actually takes about a year for them to get pregnant. They almost need to do fertility consultations because it's taking so long. But then they finally conceive! (In every universe, their first baby is a girl with blonde hair and green eyes named Sophia).

Fred buys them a brownstone in the city, basically to try and apologize for everything about Annabeth's childhood, and to ensure that they both always feel safe and stable in a home. The top floor needs serious renovations when they move in, but this is part of the gift. Annabeth has a project she can be completely creative with. The downstairs is all ready for them to move into. They even have a small backyard. Their house becomes the place for demigod and family reunions, and also a crash pad for demigods on the run.

They end up having mostly girls. I tend to give them about 2-4 kids depending on the story, all girls or almost all girls. Percy is such a girl dad.

[zzeliminatorjr]

First headcanon request ?!? 😼💪

How dyu think group vacations (Andre’s family and Cal’s family both going on a summer vacation together) go? What about some things you think Andre and Cal do together when they’re by themselves? :3

OH MY GOSH IM NERVOUS WRITING THIS AHJSJDKS

disclaimer: i have NEVER written a headcanon/fic publicly before, so please be patient with me as i work this out! :)

caldre vacation hcs!

okay, so… andre & cal have been best friends for a long time. both of their parents are fairly close because of this.

the kriegmans invite the gabriel family over to their summer house a couple times over the warmer months. it’s a perfect opportunity to celebrate fourth of july and andre’s birthday without having to go 10,000 places for them.

their dads will sit around the fire pit, drinking beer, and talking about politics or some shit… (basically what my dad does lol)

andre and cal like to wait until everyone is asleep, then sneak out in the middle of the night to somewhere in the woods. they will steal a couple of those beers, and drink until they have to stumble their way back into the house.

they both hate beer, though. they actually don’t even like drinking that much… if they had to choose, they’d probably drink vodka, or something like that. obviously, that’s not available, so they’ll take whatever they can get.

cal prefers getting high over getting drunk. hell, he had the police get involved over him getting caught smoking pot a year prior. (canon)

talking about smoking pot, andre is a lightweight!! cal makes fun of him for being one. andre also gets very… cuddly(?) when he’s high, so he’ll be all over cal. he swears the weed “makes him gay”… (this is such a cringe joke, but denial is a river in egypt lmao)

when they make their way back inside the house, they think they’re SOOO quiet. they’re literally knocking over shit and stomping all over the floorboards. it’s surprising how they haven’t gotten caught yet.

andre and cal sleep in the basement whenever cal’s family is over. it’s perfect for them both. cal’s siblings won’t barge in, or hear them, so they can talk about their plans safely.

if they’re not talking about their “plans”, they are most likely talking about people at their school…

now, andre HATES to say he is a shit talker, but he is totally one. he will yap and yap about some jackass that called him a name two years ago that he won’t let go. (same.)

cal is quite the opposite. he will agree with everything andre says about someone they both hate, but he doesn’t do a lot of the shit talking himself. he knows it won’t matter in a couple months.

cal also tends to get a bit… sentimental when he’s with andre and his family at his summer home. he hates to think about it, but he knows for a fact that he will be dead in less than a year. he tries to soak up all the time he can with everyone he “loves”. he can’t even talk with andre about this feeling because andre believes that they will both run away and be free together.

-

ummm sooo these sucked!! please don’t make fun of them 😭 THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING THIS OUT AGELMNEJXKEKDKFKEKS

[cecilysass]

Happy Heart (-Shaped Hail) Day! Fic Recs for Rain King for Valentine's Day (or Any Time)

It's funny how in the fandom circles I tend to spend time in now, Rain King seems to be a pretty beloved episode: super shippy, romantic comedy, multiple fanfic tropes made canon.

When it aired, the online fandom's opinion of this episode was pretty mixed. There was a large contingent of fans who really hated it. (I remember this because I am 4,000 years old.) Season 6 had already been perceived as being too light in tone, and we'd already come off of a run of Triangle, Dreamland I and II, and How the Ghosts Stole Christmas. There was a lot of anxiety about the move to LA killing the show's dark and angsty feel.

Me, I always liked Rain King (and Triangle, and Dreamland I and II, and How the Ghosts Stole Christmas). And while I can identify the tone change in season 6, I don't hate it, nor do I think that the show really loses its darkness and angstiness (a lot comes back in the second half of the season). I'm also not someone who believes comedy is a de facto more stupid or less substantial genre than drama or suspense, so I think that's part of it.

Rain King has generated so, so much fanfic, and most specifically fanfic that zeroes in on this little fun fact: THEY CANONICALLY SHARE A MOTEL ROOM BECAUSE THERE'S ONLY ONE ROOM. Obviously many of the fics I'm recommending below are based on that premise. So here are my Valentine's Day recs based on Rain King. (Even though I think it's not actually set at Valentine's? Because the cold open happens months earlier? There's some kind of timeline hijinks, idk.) But anyway, it's the clearest Valentine's episode we have, so happy Valentine's Day.

Free Merlot at the Cool View Motor Court by Sarie_Fairy @sarie-fairy Scully tries a little experiment with Mulder after the reunion that gets rapidly out of hand. This is smutty fun—the kind of high end sexy times this author is really known for. Dating Kings and Queens - Baroness_Blixen @baronessblixen A pure romantic comedy style plot variation on the ending of Rain King. The agents discuss the last time they've been on a date. Turns out it HASN’T been so long for Scully. This is just so charming. 

Kroner by DM When Mulder finds out about the “flicked switch speech,” he deals with it in a flirty, somewhat less sentimental way that feels very in character to me. I like a fic with dialogue that feels like it goes a little unexpected.

No Big Deal by dreamingofscully @dreamingofscully Scully offers to help Mulder sleep in the hotel. This is UST, but deliiiiiiightfully so, and heavy on the complex feelings.

Can’t Fight This Feeling by mldrgrl  @mldrgrl A sweet and more subtle little feelings reveal after Rain King by an author who does this exact thing well. Also there is slow dancing to 80s music.

Time Enough At Last - baylorrific Absolute textbook classic one room trope, but it stands out for me because I like how it focuses on their mutual discomfort. They’re both so awkward here, even though it’s Mulder POV. I also like how the classic Twilight Zone episode Time Enough At Last is in conversation with what’s happening with the MSR.

There’s No Place Like Kroner - MonikaFileFan @monikafilefan You know what would make a “there’s only one room” Rain King fic extra fun? DIANA. Okay, okay, I admit I wrote this prompt for the exchange, lol, so of course I think it sounds fun. But Monika wrote the actual fic, and you don’t want to miss it.

Pillow Talk - Alelou This is a short piece about a chatty Mulder very carefully putting out feelers in the motel room after the reunion. Sweet and in character.

Land That I Heard Of Once in A Lullabye - leiascully @leiascully In Kroner’s tiny airport, Scully takes stock of where they’ve come from and where they’re going. I love this. It feels especially spot on character-wise for season 6.

All that Lights Upon Us - wonderland @amplifyme This is a very different kind of Rain King fic, part of a series, although it can be read alone. During the events of Rain King they share a first kiss, but this fic is about their conversations afterwards (Mulder and Scully, as well as Mulder and Maggie). Gentle affection, and the process of taking little steps towards one another.

On the Flicking of Switches - SisterSpooky1013 @sisterspooky1013 Mulder initiates an awkward conversation in the motel room after the reunion. SisterSpooky1013 always has her characterization shit together, but I think this is an especially compelling character sketch of season 6 Scully.

Break in the Weather - ATTHS_TWICE @atths--twice Mulder and Scully can’t fly out another night in Kroner, so they kill time by going to a drive-in movie. Honestly, this is just adorable.

Still Raining - Donna When Sheila sends them both a letter a few months later, she alludes to what Scully told her in the bathroom. This raises questions for Mulder.

Stop Me - Gina Rain A little seduction by Mulder in the Kroner motel room. It starts with her feet, if that’s your thing. But it’s not exclusively about feet, if that isn’t lol.

They're SOOOOO MANY great Rain King fics, so drop any I missed in the comments! And if you want to read my Valentine's Day recs last year based on Milagro, they're here.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

1k for 🔼

Loved the new chapter!! Buckshannon kiss part 2 and Uncle Chim for date night!! Sooooo excited for their new relationship and the Buckley parents ANGST

Thank you!!!

The angst is coming soon!

1k for 🔼:

---

“And we want that?” Buck asks.

Maddie sighs. “I guess I just… want my little girl to have a normal family. You know, uncles and grandparents that she might actually know.”

“I get that,” Shannon says quietly from the top of the stairs.

Traitor. 

“I don’t know, Maddie,” Buck says.

He feels really uncomfortable, to tell the truth. 

“Maybe…” She starts. “Maybe this’ll be a good thing, you know? You’re thriving right now, and… And Mom and Dad don’t really know who you are now. Maybe this is a good chance to reconnect.”

“Or, you know, put an end to all that thriving,” he points out. 

“I think I’m willing to try,” Maddie says. “And maybe Mom and Dad are, too.”

Buck looks at Shannon. She gives him a little shrug, like why not? And to be fair, she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know why not. But he can almost see the argument in her eyes. She lost her mother way too soon. She thinks he should take the chance. 

“Fine,” Buck grumbles. “But we’re a team, okay? A-a united front. You are not allowed to leave me alone with them.”

“I won’t. I promise,” Maddie says.

“A-and, I get to choose what and when I tell them about my, uh, situation,” Buck adds.

“Of course,” Maddie promises. 

Despite the reassurances, Buck sort of feels like he’s in for a very bad time. 

▶️

“Okay, you can do it,” Eddie says. “It’s not very hard.”

He’s sitting at the kitchen table, facing Jane in her high chair. She’s calm, mouthing on an arrowroot cookie, staring at him with blank versions of his own eyes. Eddie touches his sternum with his hand.

“Dad,” he says. “I’m Dad. Can you say that? Dad? Dada?”

Jane stares at him, unyielding.

“I know you can do it,” he accuses in as lighthearted a tone as he can manage. 

And the thing is, he does know she can. She’s started talking recently. Not a lot. But enough to say Mama any time she’s looking at Shannon, near Shannon, or thinking about Shannon. Mama and no. Her favorite words. Eddie feels the need to push for Dada, on account of, he never heard any of Christopher’s first words and he needs this. 

“Da-Da,” Eddie says again, emphasizing the syllables. 

Jane blinks, chewing her cookie. 

“She could say it,” comes Christopher’s voice. 

Eddie turns to see his son standing in the entryway to the kitchen.

“She could,” Chris continues. “She’s choosing not to.”

“Wait, really? You’ve heard her say it?” Eddie asks, hopeful.

“No,” Chris replies. “But she’s tricky. She’s not going to do it because you want her to.”

Eddie frowns. Jane? His ten month-old? Is tricky? 

“Uh, Chris, she’s a baby,” Eddie says. “I don’t think she’s, like, spiteful.”

Chris shrugs. “Mom says she’s going to be stubborn.”

“Stubborn?” Eddie asks. 

“Yep,” Chris confirms. “Because she’s a Sagittarius and just like you.”

Eddie coughs. “Hey, now…”

Chris laughs.  

“First of all, being born in December doesn’t mean anything,” Eddie says. “Second of all, being just like me will be her greatest strength.”

Chris just keeps giggling. 

“Okay, Dad.”

iv.

On the day he has to see his parents - for the first time in nearly a decade - Buck picks up Jane from Eddie’s house. He wishes Shannon a good time at her open house. He really wants that to go well. He wishes Chris good luck at the orthodontist. Doesn’t sound fun at all. He kisses both his partners goodbye, accepts their well wishes for the evening, and then proceeds to lose his mind on the drive to Maddie and Chim’s. 

“It’s not that I hate them,” he tells Jane. Because she is currently his only company, gurgling in her carseat behind him. “I don’t hate them! I just think… Well, I think they hate me. Never understood what started that, because it’s always been that way. So why try, you know? Nothing ever mattered.”

Jane makes a sharp little sound.

“Okay, maybe I am being close-minded. You’re right,” he says. “But, Jane, you have good parents! They love you. They would do anything for you. I bet, one day, if you’re travelling the world. Let’s say Peru, for no reason. You get sick or something? Boom. They’re on the next flight.” 

“No,” Jane says. 

“No?” Buck repeats. “Are you kidding? They’d go to the moon if that’s where they needed to get to for you.”

“No, no!”

“You’re just being contrary now, Jane.”

After he parks, he carries Jane in her car seat up the two flights of stairs to the apartment, her diaper bag slung over one shoulder. He feels oddly insecure about it, for the first time ever. He has never, not once, felt weird about doing things with the kids. Why would he? They’re awesome kids. He loves them to death. But the thought of his parents observing Buck with Jane tonight? It makes him antsy. He can’t put his finger on why, but it does. Somehow, it seems wrong to bring her into it. Like she’s far too precious.

“Alright,” he whispers to her, right before they reach the door. “You’re on my side no matter what, right?”

Jane smiles up at him.

“That’s my girl,” he says.

Then he walks into the apartment. 

Because of the roundabout journey to pick up Jane and say goodbye to everyone, Buck is the last to arrive. He can see his parents, already there, as he opens the door. It feels like walking into a pit of vipers. Which isn’t fair to Maddie, Chim, and Albert. But still. That’s how he feels.

There’s a moment where everyone sort of stares at him and Jane.

“Hey, Buck!” Albert calls out. “Good to see you, man!”

“Hi, Albert,” he smiles tensely.

His parents cross the apartment to greet him. He’s not sure how they greeted Maddie, but… It seems like they’re not too entirely excited to see him. 

[bacchuschucklefuck]

Can you expand on what you mean by Baron being "too cool" to really fit a horror monster? It's a very interesting concept and I'd love to hear your thoughts. Is it that they're too active/involved/tangible and it detracts from their scariness?

I feel like I should preface this with a wall of disclaimers lmao 1/I am a hardcore, down-to-the-marrow, avid, deeply sincere horror enthusiast, esp. horror creatures. this usually means my mileage is vastly different from the average populace's, and my scaredy bone has been disintegrated by longterm exposure. most things in a piece of horror media won't scare me! so I practically never use that on its own as the scale to talk abt horror experiences, but when something does scare me it's always a special occasion to be treasured. 2/canon d20 is never really meant to be horror horror, and for good reasons: it doesn't fit the company's output, it takes a kind of carelessness in production estimation that is always a huge risk, it's often vulnerable in a way that kinda goes against how TTRPGs usually facilitates vulnerability, and for most people it's just! stressful! d20, even with the "horror-themed" seasons, generally just plays with horror tropes and stays focused in its goal of being a comedy improv tabletop theater show. 3/fantasy high's chosen system is DnD, which as I've mentioned before is before all a combat-based game system, which means the magic circle of play is drawn based on stats that facilitate and prioritize combat. want or not this affects every interaction you have in the game, and given fantasy high's concept from the ground up (everyone's going to school of DnD stuff to get better at DnD) it's doubly relevant. 4/This Is Fine I have no quarrel with this. my meters are internal, I do not ask this show to be anything it doesn't advertise itself to be, and what it is is fucking great! I like it! when I expand on this ask's question it will be like a physicist going insane in a lab. that's the mindset we're going in with.

disclaimers done. my stance on horror as a genre is that it's a utility genre rather than a content genre or a demographic genre; it is the discard of narratives. it's the trash pile. horror, above being scary, is about being ugly and messy, it's the cracks on the ground any story inevitably steps over to stay a genre that isn't horror. the genre's been around long enough to develop a codex and a general language that medias and makers and enthusiasts of the genre can use to talk about and build onto, but if you go into individual pieces there's really no unifying Horror Story. one person's beautiful life can be another's horror story, it's just how it is.

this makes The Monster a deeply intriguing piece of the genre. thing is a monster is in a decent percentage of any story - it's just when the antagonist force steps into something past a certain line traced out in the story's world. monstrousness is in pretty much every western fantasy story, it's in any story with a hero and something to vanquish or win; more than anything it's a proxy of that thing up there. the line in a narrative's world. the monster is the guard of the unknown lands, where heroic, civilized people don't tread.

what does this mean in the context of horror? the genre is about that perceived lawlessness, that "unknown land" so to say. we're in the monster's home. that's the literary context that we often walk into a horror piece with; the monster knows more than you about where you are. it may not understand you, but it holds more information than you, and with that it moves swifter than you, has more covered than you, and is more assured in its existence in this context than you. it's a struggle to catch up to it, it's nigh impossible to get one over it, and you're never sure it'll 100% work, because you just don't have the information necessary to.

with that framing you can kinda see where I'm coming from here: horror's often about the breaking of rules. I always think a monster's most effective when it breaks well-established rules of both existence and visual storytelling. think Possum (2018) or Undertale's Omega Flowey or the Xenomorph Queen - unique change in medium, unique change in graphic, unique change in design language, etc. in that sense I actually really like how canon baron plays out: they don't really function like anything else in the fantasy high universe, the bad kids have not managed to kill them when they've felled literal gods, their domain in fhjy literally introduces new mechanics to encompass their existence! from an experience design standpoint they slap mad shit. BUT! I can't help finding their character, like as a character riz (and the other bad kids, eventually) interact with, to be very... coherent? in design. this is kinda hard for me to articulate in words, it's more often a sense you get once you've looked at enough of these scrumptious fuckers, their general design and the way they show up is just kinda too clean, so to say. always kinda newly made? fresh unboxed. it, once again, makes sense for their lore - they are looking for more about themself from riz - and their function - they're an antagonist in a game experience, they're meant to be interacted with in a way that produces results and meshes with the existing magic circle - but that shininess takes away from the implied history they should have dominion over and the person they're haunting doesn't.

from another angle there is kinda something there about how put-together canon baron is as a concept; the domain they call home is riz's deep-seeded fears, extremely vulnerable things he's drawn borders around to quarantine and refused to walk into. things that from his perspective would irreversibly shatter certain pleasant fictions his world is built on top of. canon baron, While Extremely Cool, I feel is kinda too neat to connect with and signify the apocalyticized mess that'd result from this paradigm shift. the part where they're in riz's briefcase and looking through every mirror is Very Cool And Fucked Up! but ultimately the show draws a line around them as well, by making game-physical, tangible spaces they're in (the mirrors and the haunted mordred manor) and put riz and the bad kids there only when they need to confront stuff. riz is meaningfully narratively away from baron's unknown land for most of fantasy high.

with that and all of my disclaimers in mind my conclusion here is if canon baron wants to be a Horror Monster they'd have to cross way more lines. be a Lot more invasive. hence (holds up my class swap baron like a long cat)

[sinnettini]

are you catholic? i wouldn't have said so

anon 😭😭 i'm not trying to make fun of you and i'm taking this as a compliment actually but i don't know how to tell you this... i'm literally italian 😭

but seriously, i've grown up catholic yeah, but i don't believe in god and haven't taken part in anything religious in many years. i would say i'm like culturally catholic tho. and technically still catholic to the eyes of the church bc baptism and all that

[britneyshakespeare]

Subbing special ed at the middle school slaps. Every class I've had so far is 2-4 students and when we finish the assignment we play Uno

[pointedearsandpronouns]

im very much a beginner at sewing BUT i do think this turned out pretty charming despite all the flaws!!

[biohazard-inevitable]

The plus side of being too busy to watch shows or get super deep into any games is that I’m so active that my only media consumption is audiobooks at work and at school so I can finally get in on all those funky book fandoms!!! :D