#the static-like effect & fade into blue

[radio-4-is-static]

PAIN KILLER | Yojiro Noda

間違っている けど光っている そんな何かになりたくて ずっとなりたくて 歌っている

///

Things that are wrong but shine Are what I always aspired to be, And that’s why I’m singing

[krystella-shifts]

All things˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌟₊˚ʚ 🌸 ₊˚ Visualisation˚˖𓍢ִ໋₊˚ʚ₊˚

Visualisation whether you're using it for shifting , manifesting, or to distract yourself while inducing the void state. It doesn't matter if you're manifesting LOVE, MONEY, FAME. or wtv This post will help ya

This will make visualisation much more effortless and fun instead of stressful and forceful

Struggling with visualisation? Here's why:

If you're the perfectionist type of person, you're probably overthinking it, trying to make it perfect, "this exactly greenish-blue curtain with white flowers pattern is spread 57% beside my window", visualising EVERY detail, like your subconscious will get it wrong if you don't or something. is someone holding a gun to your head 😭 like calm down, You're supposed to relax, let yourself, your mind freely play around with it! YOUR MIND KNOWS EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANT. Trust yourself.

When you let your mind be free, let it play around you might even get ideas and clarity! For example, like when I let my mind wander I got a better idea of how I want one of my DR bedroom to be, i didn't thought about curtains and plants but my mind suddenly showed my the image and it was SO PERFECT AJAJSH like yes bish that's exactly what I want! So I got this idea because I wasn't forcing anything, any picture. So your mind knows even better.

⟡☾How to make your visualization better☽⟡

So, you’re trying to visualize your dream life, but the image keeps going blurry like a bad WiFi connection? Don’t worry, bestie I got you. 😔💅🏻 Here’s how to level up your visualization game so your manifestations hit different.

• Details?

It's definitely better to visualise in details like for shifting, the colour of the walls, the feel of the sheets. and for manifesting, if you're manifesting df let's say, visualising looking in the mirror, your lips shape, etc. But you don't have to cuz there's no right or wrong way. You should do what works for you the best. Don't put pressure on yourself.

If someone has trouble seeing the image with details, it's okay to not worry about the details, you can use other senses, like how it feels, smells. That brings me to our next pointtt

• Engage all your senses (Because Your Brain is Dramatic Like That)

If you can’t see the image clearly, FEEL it, get THE FEELS. Hear it. Smell it. Taste it (only if applicable, pls🫢😭).

Don’t just see it—feel the emotions, hear the sounds, smell the scents, and touch the textures, that it feels SUPER real.

Example: If manifesting money, imagine holding crisp bills, hearing them rustle, and feeling the excitement. (I can smell it rn 😤💸 all this bread so yummy yeah)

• Can't hold the image?

use motion not just still images. (cuz I wanna see it in 3d, in motion), It used to happen to me too, i picture something and it start to fade or get blurry. But in that case i realised it's easier to hold it if it's a moving scene, like a scenario. Instead of holding a still image, visualise a small scene. Static images fade, but movement keeps them alive. Movement makes it real. ✨

• Embody the Feeling NOW

Don’t just think about it—feel like it’s already yours. (Spoiler alert: it is). 🥚🥚ample, If u r manifesting confidence, being a pretty little risky baddie, visualize yourself walking tall, speaking smoothly, and radiating certainty. 🤌🏻✨

• Repeat & Reinforce

Wonder why sats work so well? Visualization is most effective when done consistently. Try visualizing for a few minutes every morning or before bed when your mind is most receptive. so like my girl says it, DON'T STOP AND JUST REPLAY, REPLAY-AY - iykyk,iyk,lmk cuz Lee know >:)

I feel i ATE with this one. I hope this helps you pookie!!~ (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ lmk and remember ALL THE GIRLS ARE GIRLING GIRLING (the amount of kpop refrences in this post MUHAHAH) if you get all the references ily

[doctordeathawaits]

Can pls i get tips for transghost? ^^ ty!!

Trans Ghost

Move Quietly & Smoothly !!! Practicing slow, graceful movements can make you feel more like you’re drifting through space rather than walking ! Casually leaving conversations or rooms without notice adds to the mystery , ghosts are there one moment and gone the next!

Lowering your voice slightly or speaking softly can enhance the ghostly aura. If you prefer, you can go nonverbal for certain moments to add to the eerie presence !!

Holding a blank, slightly eerie expression or standing still in unexpected places (doorways, corners of rooms) makes you feel more like an apparition !!

Running your hands under cold water before touching someone can be a fun way to embody the "chilling presence" of a ghost !!

Vintage & Forgotten Media !!! Watching old black-and-white films, reading books with yellowed pages, or listening to static-filled radio stations can immerse you in the feeling of existing out of time !

Visiting places that feel empty or forgotten—old houses, train stations at night, foggy streets—can enhance your ghostly experience.

Journaling in the form of unsent letters, especially to people from the past (real or imagined), adds to the feeling of being stuck between worlds !!

Sitting in Windowsills or Doorways !!! Positioning yourself near thresholds (doors, windows, staircases) mirrors the way ghosts linger between spaces.

Letting yourself daydream or move through life in a slightly dazed, sleepy way can make you feel more untethered.

Pale & Faded Colors !! Think washed-out whites, grays, foggy blues, and dusty pastels - colors that make you look like you just drifted out of an old, abandoned house ! Layering sheer clothing, lace, or light, tattered fabrics can create that floating, ethereal look ! A long, oversized sweater or a wispy dress can give the feeling of something not quite of this world !!

Wearing clothes that look a little old-fashioned or from different eras adds to the "lingering spirit" vibe !!! Victorian nightgowns, high-collared blouses, old suits, or faded band tees with a history <33 Covering your face partially with a veil, scarf, or hood can make you feel more ghostly and mysterious, as if you’re peeking through from another realm !!! Jewelry that looks a little tarnished or like it was left behind in an attic — lockets, cracked rings, or antique-style pieces !!

Pale or Translucent Skin Look !! Lighten your face with a soft, powdery foundation or just embrace a washed-out look !! If you want to go dramatic, you can blend in subtle blues, purples, or grays to mimic a spectral glow !!!! Smudging soft gray or brown around your eyes can give that “I’ve been wandering for centuries” effect !! Lightly drawing faint veins with blue or purple liner around your hands or temples can add to the ethereal aesthetic !!

[scarletlights]

"LLLLADIES, GENTLEMON AND THOSE WITH NO NEED OF GENDER!"

Roared a voice throughout the Rising Ring arena(or the TV sets of anyone tuned in to the broadcast) as lights were dimmed throughout the whole building save for that of the ring itself.

Lights outlining the island clicked on one by one, connecting together to form a grid over the whole shebang, from which a holographic dome rose.

A ring of polygons on the dome flashed white, before fading into a broadcast of the center of the place. An indeedee stood there, holding a rotom mic.

"I'm your Host and Referee, Maximilian, and you're watching...?"

He held a paw to his...well he doesn't have ears, so his horn, and the crowd roared

THE CONTINENTAL DYNACRUSH CORONATOOOOOON!!!!!

"Beautiful. Nothing like the roar of a crowd hungry for action!

....except for..."

Two roars from opposite ends of the ring split through the screams of the gathered crowd, and two more spotlights clicked on. One trained on the moat surrounding the arena, the other watching the skies.

A cool blue light began to emanate from the sea, with tiny patches of ice appearing, before suddenly completely freezing over and shattering as the Challenger emerged with a piercing song.

"Everyone bid a chill welcome the challenger, La Lünaire! A Shiny Lapras with a talent for cryokinesis, as you can see by the floating icy hands she's waving to you all with."

"Thank you, Thank you~" she crooned as she approached Max to thunderous applause. But soon after, even louder cheers beat against her eardrums as a bright red light approached from the sky.

"And now, here to defend her title as Continental Champion, the one, the only, Rocket Stomper herself...."

With a crash and rumble of thunder, Scarlet impacted the arena, making the whole arena rattle and shake, briefly knocking the holographic screens out of wack.

"PLLLLLAASMA

QUEEEEEEEEEN!!!"

Maximilian rumbled into the mic, as Scarlet stood and locked eyes with her challenger. Sparks flew between them on the monitors as max continued.

"But they're not alone, of course. Everyone bid a warm welcome to their Co-Crashers this fine night!"

The ground rumbled, perhaps more than it did when Scarlet landed, and besides La Lünaire emerged a Sandaconda. Not to be outdone, Scarlets partner coated the entire dome in unearthly static, cackling all the while at the screams that filled the arena before revealing himself. It was Guardian, of course, appearing standing in Scarlet's ear hand when the special effect harmlessly cleared.

"The rules are simple."

At those words, the dome finally revealed its true purpose. Building after towering building rose from the ground, forming the arena and Max telekinetically moved the competitors to opposite sides of the ring.

A camera each focussed on them as a bright pink glow began issuing forth off of their bodies, before it ERUPTED skywards.

"RAMPAGE towards your opponent, cause as much destruction as possible, and TAKE. THEM. DOWN!!!!"

In no time, the competitors were visible throughout the entire stadium, each one standing head and shoulders with the tallest buildings.

Scarlet did a few stretches, getting used to her increased girth while tossing Guardian in the form of a gmax fireball in her ear hand.

"Ahahaha...Can you really hope to keep up with me when you're the size of a Snorlax?"

"Hah, you're one to talk, madame iceberg."

"Ladies, please..."

At that, an array of Bronzong and Komo-o all clanged together, signalling the moment you've all been waiting for.

"Welcome to the stage of history.

CRAAAAAAAASH!!!"

[notyourmamasdeerbat]

Silly Saturday Sunday

I was tagged in this delightful little prompt by @draco-illius-noctis - hello, dear! Hope you're well! 👋 Have some sleep deprived tinkerer sillies.

“I set up the alignment lense, but the etheric flow is off by at least three. Am I missing something?”

Rook frowned, squinting at the layered bronze apparatus and its various blue runes where it cast out a thick, buzzing line of magic through a glass lens and into its partner mechanism on the workshop bench. It was late. Very late. They'd been at this for hours, trying to puzzle through the scraps of this thing they'd picked up in Arlathan within a crumbling ruin that the blighted deepstalkers had turned into their den. It seemed to have an adverse effect on the Veil, generating barriers that pushed and pulled and had at one point blocked off the tunnel to the Deep Roads entirely– before it had malfunctioned, apparently. 

Rook leaned forward on their stool, wrists draped over their knees. “I don't think so.” 

Bellara huffed, flipping down a few lenses of her own, multicolored glass catching the Fade light on the huge goggles that made her eyes seem comically massive. Fingers flickering with mana, she ran her hands gently over the air around the buzzing artifact, assessing. “But if the flow isn't strong enough, there's nothing included here to magnify the mirror effect. Without it–”

Rook clicked their tongue, an epiphany struggling sleepily to the surface. “Mmm. You could switch out the-” 

“Oh! I am missing something!” Bellara chirped, startling herself as she started to beam at them, pausing to glance into their face with a wide, sparkling grin. “A brain.”

Rook laughed as the Dalish tinkerer set to work at the Veil Jumper’s unspoken suggestion, expertly twisting one of the support disks of the artifact so that its lights flickered and dimmed, removing it and replacing it on a lower rung, doing the same to put another in its place.

Aligned in the correct order, the beam flickered back to life with new intensity, striking the parallel glass and instantly rendering the air around them for maybe ten feet alive with buzzing magic, making their hair stand on end as if by lightning strike. Bellara made a surprised, shrill little “oopf!” sound as she was practically thrust out of her seat with a trilling buzz and a brief flash of light, her massive bun unravelling its edges to poof in all directions like the tail of a startled black cat. 

Rook felt the hair on their arms raise as their bangs lifted off their face, suspended in mid air in gently drifting wisps as sparks of static electricity raced over their skin. The Veil Jumpers looked at each other, assessing the damage, before dissolving into giggles as ripples of the Fade shimmered like oil on water all around them from the central machinery. 

Veil Jumper shenanigans are so precious to me. Tagging anyone who'd like to join in! Hello, beloveds, drink some water! @andthekitchensinkao3 @fenrelmercar @sunny374940 @spinfins @emmieloumay @nevarrantorte @jenn2d2 @hedwigoprah and YOU! 🫵💕

[aealzx]

“Hey lil guy! Glad to see you’re up!”

The disconnect between them being in a lair, and having the new figure distinctly not match who they were used to being in such a setting caused April to question if someone was actually there when she thought she felt a presence behind them. And Donnie had been so focused on Raph that the form had been ignored. Everyone knew not to suddenly grab him when he was like this. Other than Lil Mikey, but he had special privileges. And Leon as well, to a point, in very specific circumstances.

But this loud, rough, obnoxious, horrible brute certainly did not have such privileges. Therefore the contact and noise earned a startled hiss that quickly turned furious as Donnie recoiled from the touch, shoving the arm off his shoulders as though it were poison and retaliating violently with his fist. The man’s apology was interrupted by Donnie’s knuckles colliding with his nose and mouth, effectively knocking him away as Donnie hunched protectively over April and ushered them a few steps in the opposite direction.

“Donnie!”

“Mya-AH!”

Raph’s voice was a painful stab to Donnie’s mind, but he accepted it since it was Raph. But Mikey’s startled yelp as he woke from the commotion was a stab to the mental barrier Donnie was scrambling to create, cracking the form before it could even begin to complete. With the obviously distressed noise from his little brother Raph had formed his ninpo avatar around himself to allow him to move on his own, scrambling up from the couch and practically falling over the top of Donnie and April as his arms and ninpo protectively enveloped them. With the physical barrier now guarding him, Donnie released April in favor of wrapping his arms around Raph’s forearm, feeling a minor sense of peace as Raph’s other hand smothered half of his back in comfort even as he sagged to his knees.

“Dang it Casey! What did I tell you about him? Do you want to lose a finger?!” Raphael’s voice joined the noise this time, drawn from his previous location from the uncommon sound of Donnie hissing, and the impact of flesh and fist.

“I was just being friendly,” Casey protested, voice muffled by his hand covering his bleeding nose.

“Yeah, well not everyone likes to be manhandle- SHELL!” Raphael’s response broke off with a startled half curse as a blue static of energy brought Leon into the commotion, a drawn sword for the long distance portal fading to flecks when he noticed there wasn’t an actual brawl. Yet.

“What did you do to him?!” Leon demanded after a short glance over to locate Donnie and make sure he didn’t have any additional injuries.

Where Mikey would normally feel comfortable interjecting to try and diffuse the situation, he hadn’t actually seen what happened and therefore remained where he was peeking over the back of the couch. Maybe Leon’s anger was justified? If it was, Mikey didn’t want to scold Leon for being protective of his brother. He seemed a little distressed along with the anger though, which was definitely concerning. Did he think they would actually intentionally hurt them?

“Relax, kid. It was just a-” Raphael started to consol, cutting off with a slight flinch back when Leon lashed out at him almost immediately.

“Don’t tell me to relax!” Leon snapped, rounding on Raphael even as April wiggled out from the barrier of Raph’s ninpo encased arms to stand between the two groups just in case. “I asked you not to bother him-”

This time Raphael’s eye twitched. “Hey, I heard nothing of the sort,” he snapped, shifting his weight towards Leon.

“He and the girl were already here when I got here,” Casey added in a half complained attempted rebuttal as Don and Mikey reached the group from the kitchen, as well as Leo from the meditation room.

“We didn’t get the chance to tell the others yet,” Don explained, currently the quietest voice of the group. A strange blessing considering everyone else was yelling.

Leon made a slight hiss of his own in response, but didn’t seem to have an immediate verbal response this time as he was forcing himself to pause to take a moment to question his previous reactions. It made sense, Don hadn’t even left the kitchen after Leon told him Donnie wanted to be left alone. The quieter tone was also nice, and didn’t grate on his nerves. And for half a heartbeat he wasn’t sure why he was so upset? Or if it was even his nerves that were getting scraped.

“...April, I think Leo’s-” Lil Mikey whisper, shuffling closer to April after rapidly analyzing the people in the area.

“Is everything- WhAT HAPPENED?!” Mom April was the newest addition to the commotion now, taking one look at Casey’s dripping nose and having her anxiety spike. The shrill outburst earned a distressed noise from Donnie as he clamped his hands over his ears, trying to keep ahold of Raph at the same time. Mom April didn’t notice though, reaching towards Casery to check how bad it was. “Why are you bleed-”

“Would you shut up?!” Leon abruptly snapped, a snarl pulling his lip up as he whirled on Mom April, her voice feeling like nails driven into his brain. His brain?

“HEY! Don’t yell at my wife!” Casey thundered in retaliation, shifting his broad form to get between Mom April and Leon.

“Casey, hold on,” Leo interrupted, rushing forward to place a hand on their old friend’s shoulder to push him back. Even considering the fight they’d got into before, Leon was strangely antagonistic now. Was this a flashback like Don had mentioned might happen? It was so different from before when Leon had been lashing out from fear. Now he just seemed angry and horribly disoriented, raising his hands to his own head as though he wasn’t sure it hurt or not.

“You shut the hell up too! You’re all so damn loud!” Leon snapped at Casey, relayed venom lacing his words as he returned Casey’s step, refusing to back down.

“ALL OF YOU SHUT IT!” April’s voice unexpectedly snapped through the group, causing various levels of startlement, especially when she almost stomped forward to slap both hands on Leon’s cheeks and yank his head to bring his gaze to her. Raphael’s retort caught in his mouth as it snapped closed, and both brows rose as he looked to April. And when Leon tried to protest April just shook his head slightly and squished her hands harder. “That includes you. You’re spiraling off Donnie,” she chided, lowering her voice for a moment before opting for complete silence and pressing her own mouth shut. While she took control of Leon, Lil Mikey was taking care of addressing the others, giving a slightly pained and pleading smile as he pressed his palms together in a silent request for them to listen to April’s demand.

The blunt revelation and command from April caused Leon to suck in a short hissed breath, effectively silenced and decidedly shifting his attention to her. Her bellow had hurt, but her comment afterwards made it painfully aware why. It wasn’t his pain. It was Donnie’s. He’d just been lashing out as a projection of Donnie’s responses combined with his own desire to help.

Pursing his lips together, Leon gave April a single nod to show he understood, drawing a shaky breath and raising his hands when she let him go. And then, to the elder inhabitants’ surprise, Leon started making deliberate motions in front of him. A quick point at Donnie, still smothered in Raph’s tense form. Upturned palms with fingers snapping to grip at the air. One hand raising almost like he was catching something next to his head. Then pointer fingers curled with the thumbs and second fingers spread as he dropped them slightly.

April’s expression became saturated with worry even as she pursed her own lips. After a moment of hesitation she raised two fingers and shifted her hand side to side twice.

At that point Don drew in a slow gasp of realization. “Wha-?” Raphael started to ask before Don clamped a hand over his brother’s mouth, holding a finger in front of his own lips. Gesturing at Raphael to hold on, Don took a moment to turn to Mom April and gesture for her to take Casey to the infirmary to address his bleeding nose. She didn’t seem happy, but considering Don looked like he knew what was going on she didn’t protest. After she ushered Casey away quietly, Don motioned for his brothers to come closer to him as he pulled out his phone and opened the notes app.

| It’s sign language. | Don typed where his brothers could see, even as Lil Mikey moved closer to Leon and April and was trying to make one handed signs back. | They all know sign language. |

His excitement was obvious to see, something between the two groups that was so drastically different. But Raphael didn’t find the merit in knowing that particular detail, giving Don a confused and blatantly questioning expression.

| Considering April told us to be quiet, noise must be a problem somehow. | Don typed back.

That was enough motivation for Leo to start working on fixing the problem rather than debating about it. Especially when he glanced at their guests again and noticed silent tears slipping from both Donnie’s and Leon’s eyes. Pulling his own phone out and typing in a note, Leo approached the group of three and held it out to them. | What’s wrong? How do we help? |

Leon ended up flinching back in confused surprise, but April’s expression brightened slightly while Lil Mikey looked ecstatic. When Leon started to repeat some of the motions he had done before, Lil Mikey being unable to explain, Leo shook his head and pushed the phone towards him.

Giving a slightly annoyed huff, Leon took the phone and rapidly typed out a response after rubbing the tears in one eye again.

| D is overwhelmed. He needs somewhere quiet, but there isn’t one. |

Watching carefully as Leon typed, Leo accepted the phone when Leon shoved it back and added his own response. | Anywhere quiet? |

That earned a confused look from the three, but after a moment Leon gave a hesitant nod. The ideal situation would be somewhere that was familiar. But that wasn’t going to happen, so the basic requirement was just to have somewhere with as little sound as possible.

It was enough for Leo to work with, and he started to head towards Raph and Donnie. His course was halted though when Leon immediately latched onto his wrist, grip almost strangling the limb. But Leo just turned back to meet his gaze, raising his other hand to rest softly on Leon’s grip and giving him a reassuring smile. He remembered what it had been like when everything was just too much. Every comment his family made only made him angry despite how much they wanted to help. How even the drop of water in a leaky faucet would grate on his nerves. How his siblings whispering made him want to lash out at them. After a stretch of time just watching Leon’s expression shift subtly, Leo silently mouthed ‘Trust me?’ to him.

And after a few flexes in Leon’s grip strength he eventually, almost reluctantly let Leo go.

The action earned a thankful smile from Leo, and he gave Leon a soft nod before turning back to his original task. It seemed he’d have to gain the trust of more than one brother though, for when he knelt down in front of Raph he could hear a soft growl of wary warning from the huge form. It admittedly sent a slight chill down Leo’s back, but he knew Raph was just being protective. And so Leo was careful to raise his hands in an inoffensive motion as he sat on his feet, remaining still until the rumbles from Raph stopped. Then he carefully tapped on his phone before showing it to Raph. | I just want to see if he wants to go to the meditation room. It’s sound proofed. |

The message caused Raph to blink in mild surprise, but Leo could see his form significantly relax. His hand moving away from Donnie slightly while Leo set his phone down was enough to prompt Donnie to open his eyes to check the surroundings for what was changing. And when he saw Leo so close he also let out a quiet hiss of warning.

Leo almost chuckled at the reaction, for it had lost so much of the venom Donnie had had before. It felt more like a sleep irritable kid weakly shoving away the hand trying to wake them up. Something about missing his battle shell and wearing such large glasses made him less intimidating in appearance. But Leo wasn’t sure if even the soft noise of a chuckle would bother him, so just gave a small smile as he raised a finger in front of it. No need to be loud. He understood the need for quiet now. And he held his other hand out in offer for Donnie to take, nodding his head in the direction of their meditation room when Donnie squinted at him suspiciously.

Neither of them moved for long enough for Lil Mikey to start shifting in anxiousness, raising a foot to rub against the back of his leg and glancing at Leon. Who then in turn gave Lil Mikey a slight glare before averting his gaze completely and folding his arms with a slight huff. Donnie’s gaze flicked to Leon for a moment, then slid back to Leo’s offered hand as he frowned slightly. Leo thought for a moment that Donnie would decline his offer then, but to his pleasant surprise Donnie’s hand released it’s grip on Raph’s arm to move halfway to Leo’s fingers. Then after a slight pause Donnie gingerly rested his fingertips on Leo’s palm, glaring up at him in a slight pout as if daring him to prank him.

Leo couldn’t help being guiltily amused at the response, and just shook his head with a worried smile as he looped his hand underneath Donnie’s, just like he’d done once before. It was a motion that caused Donnie to blink and inhale slightly in surprise, but Leo could see some of the wariness practically melt from him because of it. He could take it slow, and wait for Donnie to follow when he was ready. He’d already shown that once before, and apparently it was enough for Donnie to trust him once again. So when Leo shifted to stand up it didn’t take much for Donnie to follow. Just a slight pause in anxiousness and having to detangle his feet from the blanket and Raph’s limbs. The blanket stayed with him though. Haphazardly gripped around him and over only one shoulder with his other hand as the one was being used by Leo to guide him to another room.

The meditation room was blessedly dimmer than the rest of the lair. Soft candle lights that barely shifted in their steady flame instead of the blaring LEDs. There wasn’t much of anything else in the room either. Just mat floors with several soft, well worn cushions. The most important part though was the foam sheets glued to the walls and ceiling, effectively muffling the outside world, especially when Leo mostly closed the door behind them. Seeing Donnie’s shoulders droop, and his expression relax halfway, Leo felt he could risk letting him go now. Letting his hand slip from his loose grasp, Leo moved back to the cushion he’d been sitting on just moments before and folded his legs under him. Then he offered Donnie another smile, and patted the other cushion next to him a few times before closing his eyes. He wanted to make sure Donnie knew he hadn’t dragged him in there to talk at him. Just give him somewhere peaceful to relax and collect his thoughts if he needed.

It took a minute before Leo heard any movement, but it was only seconds before he could feel a warmth nearby. And after a few moments of shuffling sounds the room stilled to a quiet calmness broken only by two sets of lungs. One calm, and one just a little shaky from sniffles. Cracking an eye open just a peek to check on Donnie, Leo almost let out a soft laugh when he saw the teen had chosen to flop on the floor and smash half his face into the cushion while hiding the rest of himself by being curled up in a tight ball under the blanket. Leo half raised a hand to reach out and gently pat his form, but then decided against it and let it lower back to his knee. Apparently having someone sling their arm around him had been the cause of the issue in the first place. So it would probably be better to just leave him alone now, and let him recover in peace.

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I already had this part written when I posted the previous one |D that's why the fast update. I just don't like to spam more than around 1 - 2k words per post. Also I really like drawing pushed expressions so there was easy motivation to draw this next X'D

kudos to sokda-lal-ashes on tumblr, and lighthawke and Fangirling101B on AO3 for guessing right that it was good ole dumbass Casey being a brute X'D

And then mild concern for the rest of you jumping to biting. ô_ó My gosh the kid just woke up and hasn't eaten in half a day and you're all thinking he's gonna want to put filthy human in him mouth again.

And then a few of you went straight to murder and that's a bit higher in concern. 8 |

I did enjoy every comment though X'DDD it was a riot.

Fun fact I had 鹳之心弦 by Vanguard Sound playing on repeat while writing this whole thing. X'D

[amuromi]

★ ₊ ⊹ ⋆˙ ┈ 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 X ᶠ!ᴿᴱᴬᴰᴱᴿ

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ┈ 5.3k

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 ┈ NSFW! mamaguro!reader, tipsy/drunk sex, unprotected sex, established relationship (married), pet names (mama), oral (f!receiving), postpartum/baby weight insecurities, implied safe word (not used, just mentioned)

✦ ⋆˙ 𝐀!𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ┈ According to Gege, Mamaguro was what got Toji on the straight and narrow for a little while. I wanted to explore the thought a bit.

✮ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!! ✮

The familiar beeping of the keypad cuts through the droning static of the night, trilling crickets and passing cars, as Toji punches in the passcode. The little light seems to hesitate before flickering green and blinking its acquiescence to his presence. With a dull click of the motion sensor the entryway blooms with a stark wash of fluorescence bright enough to make him squint, eyes stinging after wasting hours in the dimness of some club. His pockets are lighter and his head is fuzzier for it, the taste of alcohol still burning on his tongue as he kicks off his shoes and pads deeper into the apartment. The entryway goes dark without him to trigger the automatic light and the hall offers no light to replace it but he’s familiar enough between these walls to find his way towards where he needs to be, stumbling only once as a toy finds its way underfoot, squeaking as he kicks it away. 

The room is illuminated by the faintest light leaking through the slightly parted curtains. The thread of faded yellow light slants across the bed, finding shapes in the darkness. The parted lips of his wife and the fluttering lashes of his son. He’s a tiny thing even after all these months–still a wisp of a person–but bigger than the last time Toji saw him. His face has started falling into place, fledgling features beginning to take shape. So strange that this little thing could look so much like him. Familiar black hair falls across his forehead like streaks of ink and his face is screwed up into a scowl even as he sleeps, legs kicking and arms twitching. 

Toji’s shadow cuts through the beam of light as he stands over his son in his nest of pillows–“to keep him from rolling,” he vaguely remembers you saying. Toji’s hands are rough, calloused and scarred, but he can’t deny the urge to touch his son. He presses a dimple into the baby’s cheek, and his skin is plump and warm like a dumpling beneath the pad of his father’s fingertip as he begins to stir in earnest at the disturbance. He stretches like a cat, grape-sized fists reaching out above his head before his eyes blink open with a yawn. Twin pairs of deep blue eyes meet in the darkness. Toji expects the tears that ensue as his son’s sleepy gaze lands on the hulking silhouette standing over the bed. At first it’s only the whisper of a sound, short garbled whimpers that slowly work up to a volume loud enough to wake you. The reaction is immediate, platitudes ready on your tongue even as your voice slurs with exhaustion. 

“What’s wrong, Megumi?” The raspy drawl of your voice is enough to soothe the baby’s tears as you sit up to hold him. It takes you so long to acknowledge Toji that he has to wonder if you’re purposefully ignoring him as you fret over the crying baby. A curt “welcome home” is all you can muster towards him as you dote on your son, shushing and cooing until his little whimpers turn into snores. The nursery is at the end of the hall–the farthest room from the front door at your insistence–and you shoulder past Toji to take Megumi to his room. He lets you, stepping aside because you’d never actually be able to move him even if you used all your strength. He’s as movable as a brick wall even if there’s a bit of alcohol numbing his reflexes and you know it. Knocking into him is as effective as a dog growling at a wolf. 

While you’re gone, he tosses the extra pillows to the floor along with his shirt. It’s laced with the scent of cigarettes and folded pride after spending the day whittling away his earnings on what were supposed to be sure things. Easy money made by taking low stakes bets that all unraveled one after the other. The money is wasted now and maybe he needs a fight, some kind of outlet, to expel the lingering frustration. He’s waiting for you at the foot of the bed when you return from putting Megumi down. Like a moth to a flame you come fluttering over to him looking to get burned. You stand between his spread legs and Toji can’t find it in himself to keep his hands off you. 

The tank top you wore to sleep is already rucked up your waist from sleeping and his thumbs find the exposed skin of your stomach, kneading against the new softness of your waist. It’s waning with each day as your body slowly reknits its shape after having Megumi but Toji finds himself somewhat enthralled with the lingering baby weight. You’re always quick to catch an attitude the moment he starts clinging around your extra weight. Smacking at his hands and telling him to leave you be like he cares if you’ve gotten bigger from carrying around his kid for nine months. It shows in your hips and your breasts, makes you look real good even when you moan about how long it’s taking for your body to “snap back.” It’s not like you’re a stretched rubber band to be shrinking once the tension’s gone but he keeps the thought to himself. It’s been made abundantly clear you’re not trying to hear his reassurances anytime you get to berating the body he loves so much. As if you aren’t everything he wants and more. 

“Missed you.” The words sting worse than the alcohol. It isn’t in him for Toji to be saying things like that often. But both of you already know he hates being away from you, and now Megumi, too. His hands tighten around your waist as you try to pull away, pulling you closer even as your feet drag until he can rest his face against the lingering roundness of your stomach. He got you like this. Everything about you in this moment, the tired drawl of your voice and the added softness of your body is all his doing and he’s damn proud of himself. His pretty little wife that suffers his erratic presence and pitiful parenting with little more than patient sighs. Sometimes you’re upset and he always deserves it but even when your face is lined taut with anger he can’t help but marvel about how lucky he is. Makes him want to straighten up, be better. Makes him want to do right by you like a proper husband should. You’ve given him all your time and energy. Your name and everything. It’s the least you deserve but here he is, face smushed happily into the soft warmth of your tummy as you card through his hair, waiting for an explanation for his absence. After all, he said he’d be home two days ago. 

Toji has been gone for nearly a month, having fed you some lies about freelancing on a construction contract a few prefectures over. It’s something simple, easy to swallow. Because he can’t very well tell you about what it is he really does to keep a roof over your head. It’s selfish, lying to you the way he does, but Toji has never claimed to be a particularly altruistic man. He’s selfish and greedy. Doesn’t want anything bad coming near his girl, tainting the charitable image of him she has in her mind. If you wise up too much you might up and leave him and then where would he be? Nah, he’ll keep telling you he’s out doing grunt work, manual labor. The type of strenuous work that pays well because you don’t need to know what it is the hands he touches you and your son with are truly capable of. 

“You mad at me?” He asks when you take too long to answer him. It’s not meant to sound so teasing, so mocking, but Toji is sardonic by nature and his tongue is plied with too many shots. It makes him sound like he’s trying to rile you up. And maybe he is. Hadn’t that been his original intention before you came back to him all soft and sweet, looking so perfectly tired. He shouldn’t push you but he wants to. It’s clear you’re exhausted but he’s wide awake and pumped full of liquor and audacity. It curls around him like armor, makes him want to poke and prod until you stoop to his level and entertain his excess energy. He needs something to help him work through the high of coming home to you. His teeth find a soft spot to land above your navel and you yelp out a sharp quit it! before smacking the back of his head as his tongue tastes the place his teeth had been. 

“What do I have to be mad about?” Comes your pragmatic answer as your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging at the roots to get his mouth away from you. It doesn’t work. He’s stronger than you, won’t move unless he wants to and what reason would he ever have to leave the soft warmth of your body? You smell so good in a way you probably hate. There’s no trace of perfume on your skin. No lingering scent of soap or detergent. You smell wholly like yourself. Like sweat and something sweet and it makes him want to taste every inch of your skin. You squirm as Toji pushes your shirt higher until it’s tucked up under the swollen weight of your breasts heavy with milk. 

“Nothin’.” Toji decides even though he’s sure there’s a thousand things you could be mad at him for. He was gone two days longer than he said he’d be and wasted one of those days blowing his money on spoiled bets. He was late and still had the audacity to come home far past midnight, in those dark hours that linger just before sunrise, after you’ve been dealing with a newborn all day. Yeah, you should be mad, but he’s glad you’re not. When he looks up there’s the faintest hint of annoyance lingering on your face, pinched between your brows and weighing at the counters of your mouth. It’s a pretty look on you as his eyes begin to adjust to the muted darkness. Mussed hair, tired bruises under your eyes, and disheveled clothes. It’s a look only he gets to see because you’d never leave the house looking like you’ve just gotten into a fight. But fuck if you don’t make it look so good. 

It’s enough to make Toji smile. Something mean and wanting as he stands to get in your face. He can hear it in your voice, that aloof attitude that you get whenever he’s in one of his moods. You’re trying your hardest not to rise to his prodding and it’s almost annoying how fucking perfect you are. The kind of woman that only exists in movies. The kind of woman that deserves more than him. But Toji won’t let anyone else have you. He made that decision a while ago. Marriage and a baby. A ball and chain to tether you to him. He watches the realization dawn on your face as he presses in until you’re nose to nose, a nervous “not tonight, Toji” whispering over his lips as you try to pull away from him again. He wants it to be tonight. And every night after. How can you be so perfect and expect him not to be panting after you like a dog every second of the day?

“Let me do it,” he asks, voice toeing the line of begging as his hands find your waist again. “Let me have it, mama.” Toji loves the way you squirm and pout and look away from him whenever he calls you that, like you aren’t the mother of his child. He kisses the corner of your mouth, a habit he picked up from you always pressing sweet little kisses to his scar. You fluster and shake your head, trying to pull out of his arms. He lets you just to see what you’ll do, frowning when you tug your shirt down over your stomach and go to lay back down. He watches you settle on top of the sheets, curling up on yourself like he won’t be able to see you if you make yourself small enough. Your breath comes too quickly for you to be sleeping, body lined with too much tension as you wrap yourself around his pillow like he’s not standing right here for you. His fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling you loose from the ball you’ve curled yourself into. 

“The fuck are you hiding for?” Toji snaps as you try to fix your top after his pulling rolled it up your back again. He hears you whine his name, small and petulant like you have something to be embarrassed of. It takes a moment for the realization to click into place, for Toji to fully accept the idea that his pretty little wife might not be feeling so pretty after all. Toji isn’t big on manners, doesn’t wanna stoop to saying please and begging for what he wants but he just might with the way you’re acting. It’s clear you want it. He can tell by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together. You want it just as bad as he does and yet here you are, covering yourself with the sheets and murmuring about not yet. Toji’ll be the first to admit he hadn’t paid much attention to anything the doctors were going on about when you were laid up in the hospital, sweating and crying as you held Megumi for the first time, but he does vaguely remember being advised against sex for awhile. 

“Does it still hurt, mama?” He asks because he can’t be too sure you’ve fully healed from the ordeal of pushing a little person out of your body. When you shake your head and throw your arms over your eyes, Toji frowns. He’s been gone for three and a half weeks, hasn’t fucked you in just as many months, and yet here you are mumbling over excuses to keep your clothes on. Too tired, too late, Megumi might wake up again. As if he won’t do all the work to make you feel good. 

Toji can’t help but scoff. “What are you on about?” 

As if he hasn’t answered calls while he’s balls deep inside you. If his son wakes up he’ll go see what he needs and come back to finish what he started. You don’t even need to move. All you gotta do is lay back and spread your legs while he takes care of the rest. His fingers hook into the elastic of your waistband, keen on pulling those baggy pants off. He knows what to expect. Your thighs got thicker to match the new weight of your hips. He’s expecting the plushness as he wrestles the pants off your legs even as you weakly bat at his hands and whine about him waiting a minute. All it earns you is another bite to the softness of your thigh because why would he wait even a second more after he’s already waited this long. 

He’s nearly delirious with desire. There’s no more time for waiting and your pitiful little protests aren’t doing much to convince him that you actually want him to stop. You need this. Need your man to bully you out of your clothes and prove how much he’s missed seeing your body because clearly Toji’s words aren’t enough to get it through your thick skull just how gorgeous he thinks his wife is. But fuck do you look beautiful even in the darkness. He spares a second to turn on the bedside light, ignoring your feeble attempts at protest as the dim light washes over you. He watches you try to roll away, grasping at the sheets to cocoon yourself out of sight. 

“Stop fucking runnin’, mama. Lemme see my girl. Already said I missed you.” Toji groans as he grabs you by the waist, reveling in the way you squeak as he moves you where he wants. Little thing always thinking you can run from him like he won’t pull you back every time. He’s greedy, wants to keep you to himself. You’re his. His wife, mother of his son. His, his, his. And yet you’re acting like he’s exaggerating how desperately he wants you after so long. Maybe it’s the alcohol turning him mean, but he wants to prove himself beyond a shadow of a doubt in your mind. It’s all he ever wants. To prove himself worthy. He knows he not but it’s the least he can do to pretend that one day he might be. You just have to let him. 

He takes pity on you as you squirm, grasping for the edge of the sheets Toji’s already tossed out of reach. 

“S’okay, mama. I got you.” His hands pet over your hips, fingers playing at the edge of your panties. He wants them off of you, wants to get his mouth on your cunt ’cause he can clearly see the wet spot seeping between your legs. You’ve always loved how big he is, how easy it is for Toji to move you how he wants, and yet here you are trying to play at being bashful like you don’t want his head between your legs. 

“Don’t be gross,” you whine as he works you out of your panties and brings them up to his nose. Toji doesn’t miss the way you lift your hips to help. All this huffing and puffing when you want it just as bad. It makes him want to be nastier just to get under your skin, and just like he wants you to, you whine something about him being such a nasty weirdo as he tongues at the wet spot your pussy has left in your panties. The taste has his cock swelling in his pants, twitching to be inside you after months of only using his hand. It’s nearly painful the way his dick throbs at the sight of you spread underneath him. Wet and neglected as you try to tug your shirt down over your lap. Fuck, he’s glad he married you because Toji can’t stomach the thought of another man ever being in his place and getting to see you just like this. He hears the sound of your hand smacking his shoulder more than he feels it as you try to get him from between your legs. It doesn’t work, just makes him nip at your thigh again as he shoulders your legs apart and pushes your stretched shirt out of his way. 

Toji isn’t doing it for you when his tongue licks a broad stroke up your pussy but you sigh like he is before thinking better of it and going back to pulling at his hair, trying to get him from between your legs like anything could part him from your fat little cunt. The feeling prickles over his scalp and sings down his spine in a way that has his hips grinding against the bed. He’s not worried about you as he sucks your clit into his greedy mouth, tongue tracing the shape of his name over the sensitive bud. It’s his, you’re all his. 

He can barely hear you whining over the sound of how wet your cunt is in his mouth. “Toji, get up. M’gonna squish you, stop it!” You’re not saying anything important and he tightens your legs around his head, trying to drown in the warmth of your thighs smothering him. When you don’t get your way he feels the hand not gripping his hair pressing against his shoulder. Not trying to move him, but using his immovable nature to your advantage as you try to scoot up the bed. He doesn’t care until you get far enough that his mouth pops off your cunt. There’s a shining mess of spit and arousal strung between the two of you and he’s eager to make you even messier. An arm is tossed over your wiggling hips, heavy as a steel beam to keep you from running from his mouth again. 

“Stop movin’, lemme eat in peace.” He groans as his nose nuzzles against your clit while he tongues at your fluttering hole. His eyes watch you over the soft curve of your tummy. Your eyes are wet with tears as you whimper over the feeling of his hot tongue on your pussy. You’ve been suffering just as much as he has but you’re still acting like you don’t want him to fucking ruin you, like you don’t deserve it. You do. Of course, you do. Everything and more. He feels you relax into it, hand loosening to softer tugs in his hair as your lashes flutter and lips part. This is how he likes you, soft and happy. Quiet little moans filling the room as he makes a mess between your legs. He can feel you getting close as your pussy drools down his chin. Your thighs are tensing around his head, shaking in the way they always do when you’re close to cumming. It makes him laugh, and the deep sound sings through your pussy. It’s enough to push you over the edge. 

Finally, finally, you drop the shy act and pull his mouth closer, hips grinding against his face like you’re trying to mark him up with your wetness. He can feel it glossing over his cheeks and chin, smell it as he watches you ride his face. Two fingers find their way inside your fluttering walls, hooking against that sweet spot until you squeal and he gets to hush you like that’s not exactly what he wanted to hear. Because weren’t you the one worried about waking the baby? Now listen to you. This is what he wanted and you were being all stubborn acting like he couldn’t have it. It’s not until you’re running again that he eases up. He could keep going, keep eating you until you’re all out sobbing and shoving at him to get his greedy mouth and thick fingers away from your pussy, but he’ll be nice just this once. Toji sits back on his knees and watches you cringe at the sound his fingers make as they slip out of your soaked cunt. Webs of your arousal cling between his fingers and he makes a show of dragging his tongue between them like he’s still eating you out. 

“Felt good, huh?” He knows it did. You made such a big mess and you’re still dripping onto the sheets. Makes him eager to get you on his dick. It’s still straining in his pants, painfully hard from tasting you and hearing all your little noise. He gets up just long enough to strip off his pants, ignoring the mess he’s made just from getting his head between your legs. Toji eyes your shirt, still pulled defiantly low. 

“Take it off.” You grab at the hem, fiddling with nervous fingers. “Take it off or I’ll rip it off.” He amends. You mumble something that sounds like “don’t wanna” as you cling to the fabric like it’ll keep him off you. 

Toji scoffs, “You know what to say if you don’t want to.” He reminds you as he grabs at the collar of your shirt. It’s damp with sweat as is the rest of your body. You look shimmery in the low light, eyes glittering with tears as he works you out of that last piece of clothing with a quick jerk of his arms. The shirt doesn’t put up a fight, ripping like paper so he can shove it away from your chest. Your body comes spilling out without the tight fabric clinging to you. Tits swollen with milk and tummy still holding on to that last bit of baby weight. You look like a mother and it makes his balls tighten. His mama, his girl. He got you like this and fuck if he isn’t gonna enjoy it while it lasts. He’ll leave your tits alone only ’cause you’ve been complaining–and he’s happy to listen–about how sore breastfeeding is making you. You’ve gone up a couple cup sizes and your tits look gorgeous but he won’t bother them if it’ll hurt you. 

“Toji.” You’re pouting. He can hear it in your voice and see it in the way you’re squirming as he kneels over you, fisting his cock as he stares at your body. 

“What?” Right about now he doesn’t really care about what you’re whining about unless you’re gonna start begging for his cock. His free hand finds your waist again, kneading at the softness he finds there. So plush and warm. Fucking you like this is gonna feel like he’s fucking a cloud. He hears you muttering about being too big and tells you to shut up. 

“Don’t be fucking dumb. Acting like it’s the end of the world. Shut up and let me fuck you.” Usually he’d try to be more tactful with his words. It’s only right that you get to complain about how your body changed, but right now he really doesn’t want to hear it. You’re talking down on the body that’s driving him insane like you can’t see his cock twitching at the sight of you sprawled out beneath him. Toji tosses your thighs over his, pulling you up into the cradle of his lap, remembering only vaguely to shove a pillow under your back. You cover your face as he stares at your pussy, like he didn’t just get real up close and personal when he had her in his mouth. She’s still drooling real pretty for him as he ruts against you, wetting his dick with the mess you’re making. He feels your thighs jump every time the head of his cock catches against your clit. He pulls back the hood so he can really love on it, listening to the way you choke on your breath as he grinds over the sensitive little bud. 

“Gonna let me inside, mama?” Toji asks and you nod eagerly, hips bucking in his lap. Fuck. You’re cute when you stop worrying so damn much. Acting like he isn’t dying to get his dick inside you. He can feel you clenching as he presses in, pussy gripping him so good as he drags you down on his cock. You take it so well. Inch by inch you let him inside until you’ve swallowed him down to the base, already wetting his hips with your excitement. The clenching heat is enough to stun him and Toji has to hold you still with clenched teeth to keep you from milking him to the edge too soon. You’re already trying to ride him with little bucks of your hips, hiding a smile behind your hands as you lay back against the pillows and act like you weren’t just trying to keep him off you. 

“Not so shy now, huh?” Toji asks, squeezing at your thighs as he pulls back just to fill you up again with another deep stroke. You make a pretty little noise as he bottoms out, wet lips parting around a moan even as you try to catch it with your shaky hands. He’s got you good. You’re making enough noise for the both of you as Toji stirs up your insides, keeping you locked on his dick even when it starts to get too much for you. He can feel you trying to squirm away when he gets too deep inside you, hands grabbing at his wrists, trying to pry him off you. He’s mean about fucking you now, thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit as you wail about it being too much. 

“S’not enough if you don’t cum, mama. Lemme feel it.” You’re already clenching so tight around him, pussy milking his cock like you want another baby. He’s lucky you’re on the pill because the way your body is rippling with every thrust is getting him weak. There’s no way he’d be able to pull out even if he can barely handle the one kid he’s already got. It feels too good to stop even when you’re trying to get away from the feeling of him spreading you open. 

Toji can’t help but laugh between his panting. “This is your dick, mama, stop running from it.” 

“Yeah, it’s mine.” You agree, tongue getting loose the closer you get to cumming. “Want it. Want you.” He can feel you tightening up as you babble about him being yours. Your thighs start to shake again, trying to knock shut even with his legs keeping you nice and open for him. 

“Get me wet, mama. I know you want to.” You cum hard, clit twitching under his thumb as you cream on his dick, getting him all sticky with your cum. Selfish as he is, Toji keeps you on his dick for a little while longer. Milking himself dry inside you while he keeps a quick pace on your clit. You’re crying and wailing–real loud like you don’t have a kid and neighbors–by the time he eases up on you. Your pussy is flushed and swollen around his cock when he pulls out. His dick is shiny with wetness, dragging out a mess with his softening cock. You’re leaking his cum in a frothy mess onto the sheets, pussy hot and twitching from how hard he fucked you. Toji can’t help but thumb through the mess, smearing the mix of your releases over your puffy pussy and circling your clit just to hear you whine about it being too much. So fucking pretty and all his. 

His hands rub at your thighs as he lets you off his lap, trying to work the soreness from your muscles while you catch your breath. He watches you relax as the fatigue slowly creeps back in. He kept you up far longer than he should’ve but it was worth it for the way you seem so content to let him rub on you. An hour ago you would’ve been batting his hands off of you and cowering like you didn’t want him to see you. Now you’re content to stretch out across the bed and let him squeeze anywhere he pleases. This is what he prefers. It’s his body you were berating anyway. You belong to him. You’re not allowed to act shy and be mean like he won’t remind you just how much you’re worth. He thinks about getting his mouth on you again as he watches you cuddle back up to his pillow and decides you won’t mind too much. He can taste himself leaking out of your pussy as he drags his tongue through your folds. You whine and shift but the hand you slip into his hair is gentle, letting him have his fun as long as he goes slow. He only parts from you when a sharp cry crackles through the speaker of the baby monitor. 

“I got him.” Toji says easily. You’re barely awake and it’s the least he can do after being gone for so long. “Go pee.” He reminds you as he slips back into his pants. You mumble something that might be an “okay” as he goes to see what Megumi needs. The little spud is squirming in his crib, snotting and crying like he needs something but he quiets the second Toji picks him up. He doesn’t want his bottle, doesn’t need to be changed, he’s just making noise ’cause he woke up wanting attention. Toji is content to give it to him, walking around the nursery until Megumi falls asleep again. Toji holds him a little while longer, basking in the sweet scent that seems to cling to him. Like milk and lotion as he rests a hand on his son’s back. When he gets back to bed where you’ve already changed and fallen back to sleep, Toji considers a career change. 

[honey-minded-hivemind]

OH RIGHT I GOT ANOTHER DOODLE FOR THE REWIND!AU-

something crawled out of the TV(I imagine if the X-Men ever climbed out the TV their appearances would be altered and more terrifying to fit the analog horror vibe of the au)

Reader is shaking like a leaf and hiding as soon as something starts pushing through the static of the TV screen...

That...

That isn't normal.

Are they going insane? What... what the H*ll is going on...?

They're stifling their sharp breaths, hunching down and curling up, holding their breath as soon as they hear the thumps of footsteps and the light crackle of static.

Then, whatever it is, speaks-

"Reader...? Reader, are you there? It's okay. Ve're friends... You can come out. It's safe...♡"

Reader can see the tail flick behind the being, long and blue and fuzzy. It's body is blue, fading into the darkness. It's hands are slightly clawed, tapping against the floor. And while Reader can't see its eyes... they can see a yellow glow cast against the wall, as it looks around...

They hope it's just a dream, just a nightmare, a night terror, nothing more than a small effect from forgetting to take their pill...

Because if it's not...

They aren't sure they can handle the aftermath.

(Want to explore more of this AU? After all, we have a bit more in store for Reader, the video store they work at, and the strange video tapes they watch when they're alone and it's dark... And the questions: What did the pills stop... and what happened to them?)

[ouroborosorder]

Do you have an instance of Arknights VFX that gets frequently praised that you as a VFX artist think is mediocre or bad?

EBENHOLZ' SKIN "EINE VARIATION" IS A CRIME AGAINST ME SPECIFICALLY.

Look. I love Ebenholz, a lot. His effects are really strong, too! Some of my personal favorites. But this skin. Jesus Christ this skin.

I have seen so many people praising this skin as having good effects or being better than his original and it genuinely makes me wonder if half of the effects are actually rendered in some sort of shrimp colors that everyone but me can see.

There is not a single part of this skin's effects that I don't hate. Not just because I find them ugly, uninteresting, and unclear, but because I think they fundamentally misunderstand who Ebenholz is.

You asked for this.

Part 1 - The Colors.

The actual art for his skin has a beautiful striking blue and light gray background, with the light pink Arts accentuating it, and then the blood red and pitch black of his outfit meant to draw the eye to the center. This works perfectly in the art, so what's wrong?

First problem. Ebenholz doesn't have the blue background in gameplay. Meaning that his effects are red (not pink, like the art, they are red) and his skin is red. So there's extreme monochrome happening, with absolutely no interesting contrast between him and his Arts. His Elite Charge is blue, at the very least, so his signature gimmick stands out uniquely, which is quite nice! That's a great decision that won't cause any problems down the line at all.

"Oh, but Keys, it's so that the red Arts stand out when he uses his S3 and summons that giant goat spirit in the background!" That's a great point, person I just made up. Please remember this excellent point for later.

Part 2 - General Effects

The effect starts with a deploy animation wherein Ebenholz is surrounded by sparkles like some sort of magical girl. The deploy effect is genuinely bad in so many ways, mostly related to timing and motion, but this rant is going to be long enough. And I'm gonna need to focus and talk about the sparkles.

The biggest thing to know about Eine Variation is this image. Get acquainted with it. If there was a recurring visual motif in Eine Variation, it is this piece from the original art.

And yeah, as an effects artist, I'd be amped to work on this. This looks fucking sick as shit. It's dynamic, it's chaotic, it's got harsh lines to contrast the flowing music staff, it's great. So let's see how this texture looks in g- okay what the fuck.

In the game, it looks nothing like the art. It's literally just the stock glimmer effect. It's not even a new texture. This thing's been in the game since release. It looks. Bad. It's way too simplistic. Because it wasn't meant to be the center of attention, it's meant to appear for an instant and then fade. Like, you know. A glimmer.

What you just saw in the screenshot above is one of Ebenholz' Mystic Caster charges. And it is easily my least favorite part of the entire skin.

Ebenholz (Original Flavor)'s Mystic Caster charges has one of my favorite visual touches in the entire game. Ebenholz fights using artifacts from the Witch King whose power he inherits - a wand and a set of five Originium dice. So he wields the wand, and has die rotate around him as he fights. In-game, they represent this by his charges being the dice, rotating around his hand. This is, as we say in the vfx industry, fucking badass. So naturally they removed the dice entirely in Eine Variation.

Fuck.

Fine, alright. Maybe it's him... moving further from the Witch King's influence, then? We'll go with that hey stop looking at his S3 what are you doing don't get ahead of me.

Now, I know what you're thinking. "hey, Keys, this is unfair. You're asking us to judge an animated effect based on a static picture of it." Well, my dear reader, I have bad news. You just saw the entire charge's visual. The whole thing.

They are a glimmer of light that does not pulse or twinkle. They just. Sit there. Floating. Again, it's just so simplistic, it's not even interesting to talk about.

The only good thing I can say about it is that it's way easier to tell how many charges he has since they're bigger, more spread out, and not moving. Also the Elite charge is WAY more distinct, since it's bright blue now to contrast with the red normal charges. Which is nice! A good decision! It would sure be a shame if it bit them in the ass later!

Part 3 - Attack and Skill 1

Did you think I was kidding when I said that the sparkles are the sole visual motif in this skin?

I hate these attack trails. Not only are they too simplistic, they're just too cute. I joked about magical girls before, but dear god, this just doesn't fucking look right. This skin is literally described as him being apathetic and miserable as a noble, so why are the effects so... Colorful and cute? Ebenholz isn't a cutesy goofy music-themed magical girl, Ebenholz is a sad gay goth kid who would create a fake My Immortal confession for attention.

I also hate the musical notes. I know I complained about the glimmers being too one-note (pardon the pun), but they just don't interact with the rest of the effect at all. There's nothing else musical about what is happening here. They feel added to remind you that he is casting music.

God I fucking hate the sparkles so goddamned much. I also find it really funny that one single musical note bursts forth with each hit. These shapes are just... So boring, so simple. But put a pin in that for a later.

His S1 uptime comes with an awful aura. he glows red. There is only red and white. this is all there is. This is all there will ever be. That's all I've got about S1.

Part 3 - Skill 2

Oh jesus go back to the red and white

First off, I find these goat so fucking ugly. The synths are a truly terrible choice, because synths and digital music don't come up in any capacity throughout the rest of the effects. So. Great work. This doesn't make sense.

Anyway I hate the color here. The original has a great two-tone black smoke with bright blue glowing eyes, contrasting with Eben's orange Arts. In the skin they slapped an awful blue glow haze over them. This makes them just completely draw visual attention, while they don't match up with Ebenholz' aesthetic at all. if you could see the black, there would be a clear visual link between them, but... Nope. It's ONLY blue, motherfuckers.

Also, they passively emit triangles, which is the only time in this entire effect that the Arts = Geometric Triangles visual idea appears in the entire skin based around an arts caster. Yay for recurring game-wide motifs!

Shockingly, I hate the explosion. It's passable, it's fine. But the timing is absolutely awful. The original's feels like an explosion that is pulling the target in, but the skin's feels like an explosion followed by absorption. It makes it feel less like an explosion and more like a contrivance. Also, it spawns only like, four notes total, which is just so low. Please have more notes, you even have the musical staff, you're so close to having this look like musical arts. I also hate the random swirl of red. The goat didn't have any red in it. Why does this have red. Monochrome would have actually worked better, this is just a summon.

Part 4 - Sound of Silence

Eine Variation S3 features Ebenholz getting hoverhanded by a goat.

I wish I had any other way to put it. But he gets hoverhanded by a goat for the entire uptime of this attack.

What even is this thing? Obviously, it's the goat behind him in his splash art, but what is it? Is it the Witch King? That would make sense, but why is the Witch King's avatar blue? The Witch King has literally never been blue, he's always been associated as being red. Unless this isn't The Witch King, in which case, what the fuck is it then?

I hate this effect more than anything else in this game. The ghost looks absolutely awful. it is very blatantly just the art from the actual skin, slapped behind him with no regard for aesthetic consistancy. Or even regard for if the image is readable at the distance Arknights is played at. The goatghost.jpg is not animated at all, but the hands move up and down, which weirdly only further reveals how static the ghost is. Also the hands aren't animated outside of going up and down which is just so uncanny and uncomfortable. It just reveals how desperately they needed to have some animation to make it not look like absolute hot garbage, and they still failed.

After an entire skin of absurdly simplistic geometric shapes and basic ass textures, suddenly they think they can pull off some shit that looks like a granblue render. This doesn't even look in-line with the rest of the skin's effects, let alone with the chibi artstyle.

Now. Why I truly, truly hate this attack.

When you activate S3, all of Ebenholz' Charges become Elite charges. Meaning they all become blue.

The charges all finally become blue.

In the only part of the skin where you have a blue background.

I just. I can't figure out how you'd fuck this up this bad. If the Elite Charges were red, it would look like the fucking skin art, with the red notes on the pink staff. They'd stand out, or at least look fucking decent. How many charges does Ebenholz have? Oh I don't know THEY'RE FUCKING BLUE ON BLUE.

WHY. WHY ANY OF THIS. WHY ALL OF THIS. I'M IN HELL. THIS WAS MADE TO TORMENT ME PERSONALLY RIGHT

anyway I will give credit where credit is due. I actually quite like the trail when he casts his stocks in S3.

The slight orange two-tone and complicated trails add a lot of nuance and depth to the effect, and the glimmer is toned down to the point where I can see the diamond shape hidden underneath. There is one singular silver lining to this cloud. It could use more musical touches and less fucking sparkles but at this point I need to compliment something.

Finale - Why Do I Give A Shit

Eine Variation launched as part of the Bloodline of Combat skins that came out with Lone Trail. It released alongside Specter the Unchained's Born as One; my personal favorite skin in the entire game. It is a skin that perfectly conveys Laruntina's love of natural beauty and Specter's love of poetry and recitation, bringing them together into poems reflected in a starry lake. The effects are serene and dreamlike, peaceful yet chaotic. It conveys who they are going into the future, who they are together.

Born as One is Bloodline of Combat at its best. Bloodline of Combat is at its best when it tells you something about who this character is at this part of their life. How they change, how they grow, how they look at the world in this point of their life. This is the story that good effects can tell.

So I ask you: What story does Eine Variation's effects tell?

If this an Ebenholz who is growing further from the Witch King's legacy into his own man, then why does the avatar of the Witch King appear behind him? Why does the flavor text describe this as clothing worn by every Graf Urtica? Why does it not lean further into the synth aesthetic to separate himself from the classical music of Leithanien?

If this is an Ebenholz who is currently stuck within the confines of nobility, why is he not wielding the dice associated with his title as Graf Urbica? Why do his fucking goats have synths instead of traditional instruments? Why is the Witch King the wrong color?

And most importantly to all of this: Why are all the shapes so simple?

Yes, Arknights' Arts are geometric. They're usually represented by simple triangles. This is true. But think about who Ebenholz is.

Ebenholz is not a simple and elegant person. Ebenholz is a man who nails complicated, difficult, strange flute solos, but who fails to do simple rhythms and scales. He excels at the complex, the elaborate, and the detailed, and fails at the simplistic. This is always how Ebenholz has been.

So a skin full of simple shapes, easy language, and flat colors... Isn't how he'd fight. It's not who he is. It's not how he'd act. It doesn't just feel wrong, it feels like it's not made for him.

I don't just hate this skin because I think its effects are bad. I mean, I do, and they definitely are.

I hate this skin because it just... Fundamentally does not understand who Ebenholz is. And it definitely does not understand why he is so special.

[seeminglydark]

What do you use to edit audio if you don't mind me asking? I have audacity but I mainly use that to record my voice for youtube videos. I don't know the first thing about sound effects and stuff like that.

I don't mind you asking at ALL. I use audacity for everything and an older model Yeti Blue mic! I don't actually use many sound effects or anything in the podcast cuz I havent really figured out how to do that (i literally listened to my partner give me a quick rundown of audacity and took it from there so there is SO MUCH i don't know, which is hopefully encouraging to you.)

When i HAVE used effects, like the whistling, music, static or overhead light Hum, i still use audacity. You can layer dif tracts together, and as far as i know mp3, oog, etc, you just drag and drop it into the program under your voice track and adjust as necessary with volume, length and fade in fade outs. I keep it as simple as possible. Then I export the whole thing as an mp3 and have two other people (one is my partner who IS experienced at making things, hes a video game dev so he's great at listening for anything i missed, and the other is a pal who does a dry run through to make sure everything story wise hits right) listen to it in case i made a mistake.

I honestly don't know what I'm doing but to combat that, I write the podcast as though Caro is just starting out and also doesn't know what they are doing, and that helps the fact that I'm learning as I go sounds like its part of the story. I'm happy to share what I DO know, and I am also really happy to report that people are awesome so far in the pod community and happy to help out.

[soriyafuq]

MAIN FOCUS: E?????

“Blinded from the Truth”

> if i saw it > i’d break. > so i don’t. > i won’t.

Age Appearance: ~8 years old Pronouns: They / Them Role: Emotional buffer; innocence corrupted Presence: Silent static between moments.

Visuals: A small child wrapped in harsh blacks and black flowers. A gas mask obscure their eyes. Black thorns coil tightly around their right thigh, growing inward. Their voice glitches, like an old tape: words repeat, skip, or stop altogether.

POWERS

A weaker mirror of Seth’s abilities. Their version of storytelling feels like unfinished drafts, all shadows and ash:

Threadbind: Dark blue threads that attempt to restrain, but unravel under pressure.

Memory Rewrite: They can briefly alter or obscure memories, but the effect fades.

Blindspot: When blindfolded, they create an aura of forgetfulness — truth cannot be seen within it.

BEHAVIOR

Appears when Seth is in emotional danger. They do not fight, only shield. They hum broken lullabies and speak in whispers. Their speech loops. They often repeat themselves, glitching through time and tone.

“She doesn’t need to know. I’ll forget it for her.”

SYSTEM ROLE

A trauma-holding fragment. [REDACTED] is a child-like alter born from avoidance. They preserve innocence not out of naivety, but necessity. When Seth cannot bear it, they blur it out. They are the soft static behind her eyes.

[ MEMORY FILE // PARTIALLY RECOVERED ] [ DO NOT ACCESS // SYSTEM GLITCH_03 ]

[ REBOOTING . . . ]

Signature Song -

Voice Claim -

[itsscromp]

A little help from my friend

The brain juices are finally working again, I hope you enjoy this :) Word count:940

Y/n has been having a rough week, Work has been go go go and the rude customers were not stopping. But usually one thing that y/n looks forward to everytime they clock out, is that they get to play a game that makes them feel better every single time, Astro bot.

As you settled into the couch, booting up your PS5 and the game, eager for some lighthearted fun after a long long day. Booting up the game, the familiar music and colors filled the screen. But something felt... different this time. The sequence played but instead of going into the game, the screen flickered... static danced around before it faded into an unfamiliar screen.

"What the..." You frowned, going over to investigate if anything was broken behind the console or TV. A deep blue void then stretched infinitely, small clusters of floating platforms barely visible in the distance. Then, a familiar figure emerged from it all.

Astro waved excitedly, making a happy noise. But something about it felt real... too real. His bright blue LED eyes blinked as he tilted his head curiously as if he could see you. Then... to your shock, Astro began to step forward, not in the game, but onto the screen itself. A shimmering pixelated effect surrounded him as he stumbled forward, and before you could react, Astro tumbled right out of the TV and landed with a soft plop onto the floor in front of you.

For a moment, silence filled the room. Astro sat up, shook his head and looked up at you with a cheerful noise, waving again... this time in real life.

"Astro..." You kneeled down to the tiny bot on the floor. How was this possible ?? Astro took a step closer, then playfully mimicked your shocked expression, the LED screen making an :O face, He reached out and gently tapped your knee, solid, real.

You couldn't help but smile. "Aren't you adorable ??" You helped him up onto the TV cabinet.

Astro let out an excited noise as he jumped and ran around in circles, his face lighting up with a bright and happy expression, clearly pleased by your reaction. Astro then turned and pointed to the TV screen. It was still glowing, showing the strange floating void where he had come from. The game wasn't running normally. It was as if it had become some sort of gateway. Astro looked back at you and then waved as if to say, "Come on !!" His little head nodding enthusiastically. Was he... Asking for help ?? Or wanting to show you something ??

Y/n hesitated before slowly stepping into the gateway. You were then transported to what looked like the desert crash site from the beginning of the game. But as you looked around, you noticed that you had become a bot like Astro. "How is this happening ??" But unlike the other bots, you retained your voice.

Astro then ran in front of you and tried to explain what had happened and how he got there. As he and his over 300 bots were cruising the galaxy in the PS5 spaceship, an alien had tore it apart and stole the CPU mothership, whilst sending the many bots across the galaxy. Your heart broke every single time you watched it happen in real life.

"Don't worry, buddy... We'll get them back, I promise" You placed your now tiny hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile with your eyes. Astro smiled and then grabbed your hand and took you to his trusty Dual Speeder, together the two launched into the stars and began to travelled to the Gorilla Nebula as where the scanner picked up some bot activity. Landing on the planet sky garden, you both looked around and navigated your way through the planet finding the scout bots. When you were looking you found what looked like an octopus back pack, as you put it on it came to life and your torso expanded, making you float. "WOAH WOAH !!!!"

Astro turned just in time to see you starting to float away. His eyes widened in surprise before shifting into an amused squint. He let out a cheerful noise before hopping up to the tallest tree with ease, waving to you as if to say "Having fun ??"

"Okay, Okay... How do I get down ??" You asked, still adjusting to the sudden weightlessness. But as you finished that sentence, a soft rumble in your body and with a comical PFFFFFT! Your torso rapidly deflates, sending you spiraling downward like a loose balloon, tumbling through the air, arms flailing before landing in a soft patch of oversized flowers. A few petals fluttered in the air around you as Astro gently landed beside you. His eyes now displayed a big cheeky grin. You sat up, and despite that you couldn't help but laugh. "Ok, that was fun.

Going back to find two more bots, you found that those two bots rescued look like other Playstation characters. Here, you found Ratchet and Rivet from Ratchet and Clank: Rift Apart. You couldn't help but grin as you went over to them. "No way !! Ratchet and Rivet !!"

The Ratchet bot shook itself off, spinning around its wrench before striking a heroic pose. The Rivet bot meanwhile crossed her arms and gave a confident nod as if saying "About time you showed up"

Astro cheered, spinning in place before giving you an enthusiastic high five. You couldn't help but shake the feeling... If Ratchet and Rivet were here, Who else might they find ??

The adventure was only getting started.

Taglist: @callofdudes

A/N: If this does well, I'm more than happy to do a part 2 !!

[pareidoliaonthemove]

The Pact

A Prequel to 'The Question', this takes place before 'The Long Reach'.

It was late into the night on Tracy Island, even the habitual night owls of Virgil and Brains had given up and called it a night.

The lounge was bathed in the glow of the stars and the moon, the watery blue glow emanating from the pool rippled against the ‘smart-glass’ ceiling and reflected down to the floor, creating a faint and ethereal moving carpet.

Scott Tracy, seated at the desk, noticed none of it. His attention was focused solely on the holodisplay in front of him. Orange light exploded in the centre of the display, flooding harsh light in the room, and temporarily whiting out the other lighting effects.

Scott stared at the virtual screen, his heart clenching once more at the sight. He didn’t know how many times he had watched this recording, over the last eight years, each time, desperately hoping for a miracle, for something other than the explosion.

For Dad to be alive.

And now, he knew, Dad might be.

Scott should have known. Should have had more faith in his father. Should have seen the signs.

In the recording Colonel Casey, the intercept pilot, the Hood, and his father all predicted the massive explosion that would take place should the Zero-X’s engines overload.

Scott stared again at the explosion. It had certainly destroyed his world, and that of his brothers, but it wasn’t the extinction-level destruction that they had all anticipated.

Brains had calculated the failure mode himself; the Mechanic’s calculations had agreed. Scott had learned long before then not to doubt the shy genius his father had hired, and he was grudgingly admitting that the Mechanic’s abilities were not to be doubted, either.

Dad had managed to get the Zero-X to gain altitude, but not enough to avert an extinction-level event; he hadn’t even cleared the atmosphere.

Scott should have known that something wasn’t right. Should have known that his father hadn’t died in the inferno.

Scott shouldn’t have stopped looking.

And now Dad had been trapped in deep space, at the very edge of the solar system for eight years, and he had managed to get an SOS message back home.

Scott watched the fireball bloom and fade again, his mouth dry. His father hadn’t died in the heart of that retina searing fireball; but Scott knew there was a very real possibility that he had died since, in the cold darkness of space.

And it would be Scott’s fault.

Because he had stopped looking.

The vision faded into static, and Scott counted the familiar four second count, waiting for it to restart but the display faded into darkness after the count of three.

And there, standing on the other side of the desk, was John.

Scott started violently, shocked by the unexpected flesh and blood apparition that stood before him, green eyes sharp under frowning ginger eyebrows.

Scott braced for the ear-blistering lecture that a pre-dawn in-person visit by the astronaut always heralded.

“We need to talk.”

Scott stared, his brain freewheeling at the words, conjuring up a rapid succession of disastrous scenarios: there was a problem with the mission timeline, there was a problem with the new Zero-X design, there was a problem with …

“Walk with me, Scott.” And without waiting for a reply, John turned and headed for the stairs.

Exhausted, Scott’s body responded without waiting for his brain’s permission, and he soon found himself sitting on a lounger, facing John, who sat at his feet, straddling the chair, that green gaze pinning him in place like a butterfly specimen.

Scott found his voice. “What is it, John? What’s wrong?”

John stared a moment longer, before speaking.

“You are, Scott.”

When there was no response, John continued. “You’re setting yourself up for a nervous breakdown. Again.” John paused, looking down to his hands, before looking back up to Scott. “It’s not your fault.”

“Isn’t it?” Scott inwardly recoiled at how bitter his voice sounded. “Dad’s out there, John. Alone. For eight years. Because I stopped looking.”

“No.” His brother’s voice was calm, toneless, and the audible equivalent of words chiselled in granite.

“Yes! I knew all along that that escape capsule was out there. I knew all along that escape capsules are absolutely stuffed with cameras and sensors for the sake of the investigation that the launch of one of those things instigates. I should have looked for it, eight years ago! We could have been launching this mission eight years ago, John! Eight years! What if Dad died waiting for us? Waiting for me!”

“We all knew all along about the escape capsule. You. Me. Virgil. Gordon. Alan. Brains. The Mechanic. Grandma. Lord Hugh. Lady Penelope. Parker. Colonel Casey. Lee Taylor. Any number of the Global Defence Force Analysts and Leadership. Any one of the security people who worked on the investigation after the theft of the Zero-X. Any one of the legal types who participated in the Coronial Hearing that declared Dad dead. Any one of the Tracy Industries engineers, security specialists, incident investigators, or lawyers. Any one of us could have made that realisation, any one of us could have instigated a search for the escape capsule. Any one of us could have recovered that footage.” John stared at Scott. “So why are you the only one responsible?”

Scott had no answer. The list of people who could have made the realisation, the list of people who could have launched the chain of events that would have led to Dad’s rescue years earlier overwhelming him.

John was merciless. “You feel guilty for not realising. I get that, Scott, I do. I feel guilty. I wasn’t able to track the Zero-X beyond that point. I’m the guy who hacks every camera to get you the information you need on a rescue, so why didn’t I think about the cameras and scanners on the capsule? Virgil and Brains, and even the Mechanic, they’re all engineers, and they’re all kicking themselves for not even considering that the Zero-X worked as designed.”

John exhaled nosily. “I’m worried about Dad, too, Scott. I’m worried what we’ll find. I’m worried how we’ll all cope if he’s dead. Hell, I’m worried how we’ll all cope if he’s alive.” John stared up into the sky. “Space does bad things to the human body, Scott. I’ve been laying awake at night because I keep imagining all the medical problems he’s going to have after eight years with no real sunlight, micro-gravity, and god-only-knows what to eat.”

He recaptured his brother’s gaze. “But I’ve got faith, Scott. We know he survived five years, because that’s how long it took for the Calypso to get to its furthest point. He managed to get a signal out to the Calypso, managed to reprogramme Brahman, to send out the SOS, and accelerate the Calypso’s return to earth.”

John laughed softly, then. “Actually, it’s ironic. He exiled himself to the very edge of the solar system prevent an extinction level event, and in trying to call for a rescue, damn near caused another one.”

The thought startled Scott, and an unwitting chuckle escaped him. “When we get him back, let’s not mention that to him, yeah?”

John smiled. “Probably for the best.” His gaze sharpened. “And speaking of for the best, Scott …”

The moment of levity was brief, and Scott felt a familiar weight settle in his chest and stomach. “John …”

“This has gone on too long, Scott. You’ve been tearing yourself apart since we got word of what happened.” John sighed. “We thought maybe this was how you grieve, throwing yourself into doing things. It seemed that way, especially after what you did when …”

John shook his head, unable or unwilling to say ‘when Mom died’, Scott couldn’t tell which. And he was glad for it, because Scott didn’t think he had the emotional resilience to hear the words spoken.

“But it’s more that that. Virgil’s been saying it for years. International Rescue is dangerous, we all know that, and we’ve got the scars to prove it, but you …” John stared at Scott, his eyes haunted. “Scott, it’s like you’re daring death to come get you. Like you want it.”

John stood suddenly, looming over Scott, who, startled, lost his balance, and half fell off the lounger at John’s feet. He stared up at his younger brother.

“I’m going to say this, and you are going to listen, Scott. Killing yourself will not bring Dad back. Killing yourself will not bring Mom back. You shouldn’t have ‘died in their place’ or any such romantic nonsense. You think losing you in their place would have hurt less? You think Alan would be better off having Dad instead of you? You think Gordon would have lived his Olympic dream without you? You think Virgil would have coped? Do you think I would have?”

Scott opened his mouth to protest, but John didn’t give him the chance. “Dad wasn’t always there, Scott, but you were. All those business trips, late-nights and weekend meetings, all those crises and troubleshooting conferences. Dad was at work. You were here. You were with us. You think the family fell apart when Dad disappeared? It was nothing compared to what happened when you did, Scott.” John shook his head. “You never saw us at our worst, because our worst was when you were gone.” John stared his older brother dead in the eye; seeming to will Scott to understand what he was saying with the force of his glare, laser burning the words into the tissues of his brain. “Losing Dad was your worst nightmare, Scott. We had you, we could cope without Dad, we knew that. We can’t cope without you. Please” John’s voice broke slightly “don’t make us try.”

Scott automatically reached out to his brother, his body reacting while his brain was in freefall. John collapsed down against him, hugging him back, clinging fiercely to what he couldn’t bear to lose.

“It’s all I’ve ever known, since the day they told me I was going to be a big brother,” Scott eventually whispered. “Every time Dad went away, it was always the same: ‘you’re the oldest, you’ve got to look after them – don’t let me down’. Last words Mom ever said to me ‘look after your brothers for me, Scott.’ Last thing Dad said before he went out to intercept the Zero-X. ‘Look after them till I get back.’” Scott stared. “How can I do anything else?”

John stared. “We finish the XL and go. We’ll find Dad, and we’ll bring him back. Alive or dead, we’ll bring him back. He will be back, and you will have fulfilled your duty.”

Scott stared out at the ocean, dark under the night sky. “What if he blames me, John?”

“Then he’s not the man I remember. And he’d be wrong, and we will make him understand that.” And that wasn’t John answering, it was Thunderbird Five – all calm certainty, authority and decisiveness. He wasn’t offering an opinion. He was stating a fact.

They sat in silence a long time, before Scott suddenly stood and took a couple of steps towards the cliff edge. “How do we do this, John?”

John moved to stand beside him, a half-arms-length away. “Small steps. First we find Dad –”

“Kind of a big step that, John,” Scott observed softly.

John shrugged. “Not really. We’ve nearly completed the final phase of testing. Navigation options have been calculated and programmed in – final decisions will be made on the day. Launch is in just over 48 hours. Logistically, it’s practically done already.”

Scott grunted, but didn’t comment.

“Next step is to return home. Every conceivable course of action needed has been planned down to a fine detail, what we do, depends on what we find.”

Scott nodded. He knew John was right. Every possible outcome had been considered and planned for. They had top medical teams on standby, even if the medics didn’t know it themselves. Medical treatment plans had been formulated under the guise of Tracy Industries sponsoring a space medicine symposium, with a hypothetical scenario for recovery and rehabilitation of astronauts stranded long term in deep space – an International Rescue initiative responding to the colony on Mars, had been the justification. They had even planned out their father’s funeral, allowing him to be interred alongside his wife and father, with an official public memorial.

“That’s the bigger picture. How do we deal with the … intimate?”

John stared. “We get rid of that recording, for a start. No more home video movie fests of Dad being blown to kingdom come.” John slumped, staring at the paved surface under his feet. “I should have got rid of it years ago.”

“I thought you would try,” Scott confessed. “I took precautions.” He could feel John’s gaze on him like a laser. He smiled, wryly. “Multiple copies encrypted on multiple servers. Physical copies, even, in safety deposit boxes. I doubt even you could find them all.”

“Keep one physical copy.” John decided. “Let Eos hold one digital copy. In case we ever need it. But let her decide if it is necessary for us to see it. Get rid of the rest.”

Scott considered. “And what do I get from this?”

He felt, rather than saw John start beside him. “What?”

Scott turned to face his brother. “I’d be making some big concessions. What do I get?”

John’s jaw dropped. “You’re seriously negotiating over this?”

Scott nodded, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve said what you want. What do I get out of it?”

“You mean other than a longer life expectancy?”

“Nobody’s guaranteed that, John. We both know that too well.”

John frowned. “What do you want, Scott? You obviously have something in mind.”

Scott nodded. “Time.”

“Time? I thought that was what you were getting?”

“Your time.”

“My time?”

“On earth.” John gaped. “Regular rotation to operate from Tracy Island. Later, if Alan wants, you can trade off with him. But you get your butt down here, regularly, and spent time with us, in 1G, not that equivalent centrifugal force you get up there.” He nodded at the sky to indicate Thunderbird Five. “Because as you said yourself, John, space does bad things to the human body.” Scott shook his head. “You said you couldn’t cope without me, and not to ask you to try. But what makes you think I could cope without you?” He reached out and poked his brother in the chest. “What gives you the right to ask me to try?”

John stared. “Okay,” was all he managed, his voice strangled.

Scott raised an eyebrow. “Okay, what?”

John breathed deeply and swallowed. “Okay, if you will make changes, seek help, and get rid of that video, in order to improve your mental and physical health; I will spend more time on Earth, improve my physical regime, and stick to it.”

Scott frowned, considering the words, turning them over in his head, looking for any loophole his brother could exploit. He couldn’t find any. He held out his hand to John. “Deal.”

“Deal.” John took his hand and they sealed the pact in the same way they had sealed many pacts over the years, as boys and men.

They stood in silence for a long while, contemplating the ocean and the stars, and the future, before finally Scott yawned. As if on cue, John replied in kind.

Scott nudged him. “Bed, John. Sleep.”

John nudged him back. “Same for you.”

They walked together back to the house, separating at the lounge without speaking, Scott to head to the rare luxury of his bed, and John to the hangers so as to return to Thunderbird Five and his quarters there. The next few days and weeks would be disturbing enough for all of them, no point worrying the rest of the family by breaking routine just yet.

Neither knew what the next few days would bring, and how that would shape the rest of their lives, but they had at least the beginnings of a plan, a course of action to start them off and some idea of the destination they were heading towards. No doubt it would be hard work, but individually and as a family they were no strangers to hard work.

And they believed one thing, above all others: that when someone cried out for help, they deserved an answer.

Especially when it was one of their own.

Notes:

Part of the ‘Questions, Answers, and Other Family Matters’ series.

In Part 2 of ‘The Question’, I threw in a line about Scott not being able to see the Zero-X footage anymore, and didn’t think anything about it.

Well, time passed, and I thought about it.

The standard disclaimers, I do not own Thunderbirds, either the Original Series, the Movies (both Supermarionation and Live Action), or the Thunderbirds Are Go Series. (Although I do own copies on DVD.)

I do not do this for money, but for my own (in)sanity and entertainment.

[zenithgenderroyaleacademyelite]

**Prompts for Emotional Dissonance Between Fetish Models and Apex/Stuffed Partners**

---

### **1. Unsuccessful Bond**

**Prompt:**

"A Glass Heart Fetish kneels in a desolate academy hall, her hands outstretched toward a fractured Apex doll. Cracks spiderweb across its porcelain face, its once-glowing core now dim. Ghostly threads of psychic energy fray between them, dissolving into ash. The air is thick with static, and the walls drip with ink-like shadows symbolizing failed connection. Style: Desaturated colors, cold blues and grays, with faint golden light trapped under ice."

**Symbolism:** Shattered chains, fading halos, wilting mechanical roses.

---

### **2. Forced Pairing**

**Prompt:**

"A Fetish model is bound by glowing crimson chains to a distorted Stuffed plush, its button eyes bleeding black ooze. Her regalia tattoos burn angrily as she struggles, while the plush’s seams tear to reveal writhing thorned vines. The background pulses with oppressive crimson runes, and cracks split the ground beneath them. Style: High-contrast reds and blacks, jagged edges, and oppressive shadows."

**Symbolism:** Barbed wire, broken marionette strings, a cracked hourglass.

---

### **3. Scorn & Rejection**

**Prompt:**

"A Zenith Fetish turns away from her Apex partner, now a Hollow Doll with empty eyes. His once-regal wings are skeletal, and shards of his glass heart litter the floor. She clutches her own chest, where thorned vines pierce through her robes. Storm clouds swirl above them, rain melting into acid tears. Style: Monochrome with splashes of blood-red and sickly green."

**Symbolism:** A shattered mirror, wilted laurels, a discarded Glass Heart locket.

---

### **4. Heartache & Grief**

**Prompt:**

"A Fetish cradles the lifeless form of her Stuffed partner, now a limp plush with frayed stitching. Glowing doves (her healing power) dissolve into smoke as she weeps. The battlefield around them is littered with broken mecha parts and frozen Zenith shadows. A lone dove escapes, trailing a ribbon etched with ‘*Try Not to Break*.’ Style: Soft pastels corrupted by inkblot voids and decaying gold leaf."

**Symbolism:** Wilted flowers, a stopped pocket watch, crumbling angel statues.

---

### **5. Madness & Corruption**

**Prompt:**

"A Glass Heart’s psyche fractures as her Apex transforms into a grotesque marionette, its strings controlled by Zaddies’ obsidian puppeteer hands. Her regalia tattoos spiral into chaotic scribbles, and her eyes glow mismatched colors (one gold, one void-black). The sky warps into a kaleidoscope of screaming faces. Style: Surrealist horror with neon-pink static, glitch effects, and melting architecture."

**Symbolism:** Broken music boxes, inverted halos, a clockwork heart rusted shut.

---

### **6. Turmoil & Betrayal**

**Prompt:**

"Twin Fetish models—once allies—face off in a shattered Doll Chamber. One commands a blazing angel mecha, the other a corrupted Stuffed plush oozing black ichor. Between them, a cracked Glass Heart pulses erratically, refracting their fractured bond into prismatic shards. Style: Split composition—fiery oranges vs. oily blacks—with a central rift of unstable light."

**Symbolism:** Torn alliance flags, a scales tipping into void, a dying dove mid-flight.

---

### **7. Forced Unity (False Harmony)**

**Prompt:**

"A Fetish and Apex stand rigidly side-by-side in gilded Zenith armor, their forced smiles cracking like porcelain. Their joined hands drip golden blood, and marionette strings tug at their limbs from above. Behind them, a stained-glass window depicts their ‘perfect’ bond—now splintering into lies. Style: Baroque opulence with hidden rot (peeling gold paint, moldering lace)."

**Symbolism:** Puppetmaster shadows, hollow crowns, a music box playing off-key.

---

**Technical Notes:**

- Use **high contrast** to emphasize emotional extremes.

- Incorporate **fractured/double exposure effects** for internal conflict.

- Reference artists like *Beksinski* (horror) and *Kimiya Yoshida* (delicate decay).

Let me know if you’d like to refine a specific prompt or explore additional emotional states! �💔

[birdsflypiecemeal]

SO

GHOULIAN

GHOST GILLION SPECIFICS AND IDEAS IVE HAD ABT HIM I LOVE HIM DEARLY AND HEEEE:

-wears a really poorly knit sweater! when he was discovered aboard the albatross by gryffon (?) Gil told him that he was freezing cold in his normal clothes, that they itched, that they were horrible. long story short, ollie and his mom knitted Gil a sweat, but because she's sick and he's just a kid, it has huge gaps and several different kinds of wool and cloth all spliced together into a poor quality sweater. gil wont have it any other way!

-loves music! Arts were a luxury that the undersea trained out of him. He loves them dearly. He was never one for fighting as a child, more prone to loving animals and sketching beautiful scenes and reading stories, but music is his favorite (specifically heavy metal or rock which were ESPECIALLY not allowed in the Undersea (fuckin emo (endearingly)))

-loves SCIENCE and HISTORY!

-against the man! fight the machine! very stubborn in his ideals against anything that effects the rights of the people and freedom of expression

-NATURE NO NURTURE!!! REmembers nothing but what he is born enjoying, absolutely static. like a blank slate. Never reacts when people yell or scream at him, feels no pain, gains no trauma or memory.

-Reacts poorly when the crew brings up Alive Gil. Ghoulian fuckin hates him. He likes who he is now, why should he be replaced? What happened was meant to happen, surely, and to go back on that would be against fate.

-Believed in destiny from the beginning. Toward the recent episodes (109-111) He adapted the saying 'it is what it is' but I still firmly believe that is the effect of his crew being so casual about so much change (WE ARE TAKING AWAY POSITIVE EFFECTS FROM THE ALBATROSS AS WELL AS NEGATIVES FROM ELDERS--- HE IS A BLANK SLATE)

-wears glasses. i already made a post about this.

-SHORT HAIR (I COULD MAKE A WHOLE NEW POST LMK IF YOU WANT ONE AB GILS HAIR)

-people pleaser

-curious

-wants to know everything

-gets frustrated easily

-not afraid anymore

-he's NOT BLUE. there are still the marks of the illness, causing him to have pale purple-red skin and black veins, his markings have turned deep black, almost carved into him. ofc hes transparent. his hair floats and fades away, his skin rolls off of him in wisps like mist

-terrifying

that is all (for now) :)

thinking of making a fic ab this tbh

[infini-tree]

episodic - part 2

< prev | next >

Summary: Captain stumbles in the dark, the boys are hasty, and Krupp looms over the narrative.

As that one quote goes: it's the villains who act; heroes react. Or maybe it's the heroes who act, with the villains hindering their every action? Either way, there are pranks to pull.

A/N: the series was meant to be comprised of oneshots, the fact that there’s a new chapter to an existing one is just as surprising to me.

what changed my mind? i could not think of a good title for this next bit, so i decided to append it to this fic. to be honest it works out perfectly, as this is the direct result of the first part anyway. to those that thought that the first part was a clean conclusion to the whole thing re: the boys and captain: i'm only partially sorry (and besides, it did end with them saying they were going to meddle further, so...), in reality it was the start of a larger thread!

i haven't decided how many chapters this chunk of story will be, but for the time being i will hopefully write chronologically in relation to this part of the timeline (as far as the fic series half of this au is concerned). so for now i won't jump around the timeline for assorted written oneshots. for now.

——————————–

By the time Captain Underpants reached the man in his head’s house, the fuzzy feeling in his chest had fizzled out. The issue is done. A resolution was reached. They’ve all said their nice words, and it’s fine now. 

The house was silent, save for the TV that he had left on. The living room was still littered in what remained of the prankovation (trademark). He paid no heed to the grown up talk on air as his own words from earlier kept rattling around his head.

I miss what it was like before all this. I know you do, too.

He circled his way around the table before plopping on the chair. The light from the TV practically bleached out the scattered notes on the table, leaving the other man’s words impossible to read. Right now, he really didn’t want to read them. With everything that’s happened, he had almost forgotten that he had just been talking about how annoyed he was at the prank earlier.

He’d have to reply, eventually, but at this moment, he feels…

He feels.

He doubled over and clutched the cassette recorder against his chest. It reminded him of the moment he had recorded– what his sidekicks listened to – and his body seized up even further. He was fine earlier, so why was he acting like this? He had even thought, for a moment, that it was a latent effect from a monster. 

Captain knew it wasn’t. A part of him wished it was, like how he wished things were before.

He glanced back to the cassette in his hands. It was too dark to see through the plastic door that showed the cassette tape, but he knew it was equal on both ends of the spooling parts of it, paused right after that moment. A moment he didn’t want to share like that.

But they were his sidekicks. He supposed that they had the right to know, so it was fine. It was fine.

Captain’s hands shook in the dark. From the edge of his vision, he saw the light that lit up the chair and the living room change. Pale blue, to darkness, to red from a commercial.

His words rattled in his head, both what was recorded and what was said. The letters snare the other ones like they were static clung together– at the same time I don't.  

His mind felt like it was racing, but the only thing on the tracks was grawlixes ensnared in agitrons. He could feel it make a one-way trip to his chest, where it sat heavily.

After what felt like an eternity of being curled up, the feeling managed to fade, Captain quietly peeled himself off the seat. He turned on the light.

“Well–” He floundered for a moment, trying to recall where they left off. It felt like years since he spoke to him. Play it cool. “I think the prankovation, trademark, is an improvement.”

He dipped a few fingers in a nearby glass and flicked the drops in his face. 

Snap. He let the uncomfortable tenseness in his limbs wash over him before it dissipated.

What were you doing for an hour?!

“I was…” He looked back down at the cassette player. “Looking for the cassette. It, uh, got misplaced in the shuffle.”

Splash, snap. The fact he couldn’t feel much from the man felt worse than feeling a dissipating sweep of emotion. At least then, he could try and guess where this was going– as terrible as it felt. 

Awfully convenient timing, the note remarked vaguely.

Captain could practically feel the accusation curdling under the ink. He knew his voice would have too much ache in it to rebuke the statement. He cannot lie. 

In a smaller voice: “My sidekicks found it.”

The ache twisted. He nearly spilled the cup he was using as he put his hand in it and wiped his face. 

Snap. 

The twisting feeling mingled with the prickling hot emotion of the man in his head.

Those brats know?

“They’re not brats!” he defended. “They’re… they’re just looking out for me.”

Splash, snap. No prickling hot this time, just something he could only describe as slimy.

Behind your back? Sounds about right.

“I– I trust them,” he said out loud, though he made no effort to record it. His voice was too shaky for that– he repeated the words until they came out smoother and only then did he record.

Splash, snap. I mean, you didn’t know you weren’t real until now. Who knows what else they’re hiding.

Captain shook his head. This shouldn’t be affecting him this badly– any hero worth their salt knows how villains will do anything to get a rise out of you for any sort of footing. This was no different. He knew this was no different.

Captain grounded his teeth until he swore he heard it crack under the pressure. 

“Even– even if they were hiding something, I still trust them.” A pause. “That was just a hiccup, and minor conflicts are bound to happen. They’ll do the right thing in the end, usually.”

The Waistband Warrior listened through the recording again. The response felt foolproof!

Splash. Snap.

He was hit by the caramel onion emotion again. Sweet and good feeling at first until you got into the acidic onion-y part. It was the exact same feeling that lingered in his chest when the man in his head told him he wasn’t real.

They’ll do the right thing in the end “usually”? the note said. Honestly, you should keep better track of your little “sidekicks” and what they do– ten year olds don’t exactly have the best judgment.

In smaller print in brackets: (eg. Stealing that cassette. You know that counts as breaking and entering, right?)

Something hot flared in his gut seeing the last statement. “They are not thieves!”  

Captain immediately clamped his mouth shut with a hand. He gave a quick glance to the recorder, relieved that he hadn’t pressed the record button yet. 

He brought himself to stand on solid ground. Made his way to close the suddenly too loud TV. Was this how he ran the school? Is this how he thought of the children? His sidekicks?

He swallowed. Forced the heat in his gut to cool. Pressed record. Paused.

“We are a team.”

Splash, snap.

Are you, the note retorted. Because from my end, it looks like you're their personal idiot that’s part of a months long gag. One that may be going stale.

Captain elected not to give a response to that. Saying nothing was not a lie. Plus, the man in his head was ruthless, combed at every dip and rise in his voice and managed to figure him out. If his sidekicks had anything else to hide, then there had to be a good reason.

There had to be.

Captain looked at the sticky note one more time and placed it on the far end of the table. He needed… alone time. Or at least, alone time without seeing all those little notes.

He decided to follow his gut feeling, and his gut led him to the Closet At The End Of The Hallway, cassette player in hand. As he opened the door, his sights were set on a box in the lower shelf. With a quick press to the cassette door, he pulled the tape out, placed it in a box of other tapes he used, and pulled out a fresh– and most importantly, empty– one. 

The lights from the living room didn’t quite reach his little corner of the hallway, leaving him half-shadowed. He was still expecting something to pop out of a dark corner, or for the flowers on the wallpaper to twist to vines. But, the more he was out here, the house felt less lonely. 

Alone, maybe. But in the same way he was alone– with another presence looming around him.

(Or, within him, he guessed?)

Haunted, then? No, that word rattled in his brain like a rock you wanted out of a shoe. Apparently, that sort of thing was pretty uncomfortable.

Captain scratched at his chest with a frown, trying to will the ache to lessen. He sighed. Rocks.

He thought back to the papers scattered across the living room. To the confused looks on his sidekicks’ face. To the scattered remnants of the man’s backstory he could find in this closet. These moments were not fights, but there was a strange weight to these quiet and small moments he never had a chance to parse before. It wasn’t like his usual fare, but it wasn’t not, in some ways.

He’s still trying to untangle this specific subplot.

Captain finally placed the cassette in the player. The Man In His Head would not notice the change. The action wouldn’t matter much to anyone except him. 

Maybe that was the point. 

He made his way back to the living room. Nothing changed from when he left, and yet he was still… expectant.

Captain had contemplated staying for longer– how could he not, with the amount of plot threads he needed to untangle? But the time that stretched out before him was much more daunting than any villain, and he wouldn’t know where to start.

He thought back to the Man In His Head. If he was out, the other was not. Being out meant there was one less evil in the world. But he was a superhero, not a jailer with a key. It wasn’t his nature.

He splashed water on his face.

Snap.

Cuts from one scene to the next was a familiar thing to him. Much more than the endless stretches of time he was allotted in the house. So when one blink later he was somewhere that wasn’t in that lonely house, Captain sat up quickly. He was already getting out of the man’s clothes to get into something more heroic.

“Sidekicks?” 

George gave him a look. “Uh, Captain Underpants–”

“How’re you feeling?” Harold added.

In record time, he was out of the clothes the man in his head insisted on and had grabbed a picnic blanket-cape conveniently on the ground. 

“Well, I don’t feel like I was smashed to the ground, so… pretty good! Now where’s that monst– ack!”

Four hands grabbed at his cape before he could properly fly up. The momentum left him upside-down. 

From his point of view, Harold’s mouth curled up– that is to say it curled down, if he were right side up. “There’s no monster.”

“There’s always a monster.”

Now both of them were right side up-grimacing. 

Captain tilted his head, his entire body flipping right-side up at the motion, and amended with, “Or, uh, at least a conflict.”

“In that case…”

“Krupp’s cracked down on a lot of the school rules,” George explained. “And I figure that this would be a good opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.”

Captain gulped, trying to will away the words exchanged in the previous scene. “M– metaphorically, right?”

“It’s for all of us!” Harold picked up where the other left off. “Even you, after what Krupp must’ve put you through.”

“Now–” George waved a hand. “We were thinking that we could do a rehash of the prankovation, but–”

“We thought he might expect that! So then I thought you could help us out in the ideas department, like you did with the whole Brain Farts issue. Whaddya say?”

Captain stopped hovering. He could feel the stuck rock feeling again, rolling around in his chest.

“Listen, we get it– I know the last time you helped, it was… well, never mind about that,” Harold winced. “Nothing like that’s going to happen this time, we promise. And you won’t get caught. Plus, you’re the only one who can help us.”

“Promise?” Captain echoed, testing out the word like one would test the weight of a projectile before throwing it. 

“Yeah, for sure.” George said quickly, like throwing a hot potato before moving on. He looked up from what he was doing and handed him a plastic bag of supplies. “Think of this as… Free The Children, Part Two.” 

Captain gave a look inside. He wasn’t sure how the supplies connected to each other– he was never a planning sort of guy.

“Ah, to make school fun again, right?” 

“Yeah!”

His shoulders untensed. That was a good thing, he reassured himself. “Well, when you put it like that– what do you need me to do?”

——————————–

But before I tell you the rest of this story, I have to tell you this one.

Sunlight skirted off the remaining leaves around Treehouse Comix Inc. The wind was quickly snapping them up and off towards other autumn-y pastures. They had to bust out some of the blankets they kept up there, but eventually their parents were going to start telling them they’re not allowed up as George’s dad fortified it for winter

The key word was eventually. There were more pressing matters at stake than getting a little cold.

Harold frowned at the page he was working on. The content was fine, but something about the way he was drawing it was frustrating him and he didn’t know why. He set it aside next to the other pages. 

“Ugh,” he let himself splay on the ground dejectedly, face planting into the wood floor.

“Is that an ugh for Krupp suddenly going crazy mode with his rules or an ugh for the Cass-Incident?” George asked, leafing through his notebook and crossing out some of the more half-baked ideas.

“Uuugh,” Harold ugh’ed, which roughly translated to both.

He made his own noise of agreement as he crossed out another idea.

In one corner: the entire fourth grade had been blindsided by the sudden announcement of a whole gauntlet of assessments. Essays in English class, timed tests in math, horrible running tests in gym, but the real kicker was what was in store for science– a fair with mandatory participation. Even the weekend Invention Convention didn’t have that!

In the other: the Cassette Incident (Cass-Incedent, for short). It didn’t weigh in their minds so much as it squatted in the corner of it. It was just one of those things that was looming like a principal-and-or-superhero-shaped elephant in the room.

Harold slammed a fist down to the floor and pushed the sketchbook away. Instead of walking over, he just rolled beside the beanbag the other boy was sitting on. 

“This is too much.”

“I know.” He set his own notepad to the side. “It took a long time to figure out how to make comics at the same speed we did before we were in separate classes, now I’m not even sure we can keep up the same release schedule with everything else now.”

A pause. “Do you think this has to do with the Cass-Incident? The timing is too convenient.”

“What else could it be? It’s mostly affecting our grade.” Then, in a frustrated grumble he added: “Everything lately feels like it leads back to them.” 

Harold said a soft hm, before picking up the recently abandoned sketchbook. Turning to a new page, he started to draw.

“What did he mean by that he didn’t want it to change?” he asked. The doodle was Captain Underpants standing around with the same confused hurt they saw on his face as he found out that they found out. “Like you said, Krupp’s been nothing but mean to him.”

George thought for a moment. “Maybe he’s afraid of things getting worse if they did change. And, well–” He gestured vaguely.

“The sudden rules right after we found out.” Harold stared at the page intently. He started placing more lines; a panel around the Captain doodle, lighter lines radiating behind him. Shadows at his feet. “Poor Captain Underpants. At least he doesn’t have to deal with school.”

“Small victory that is.”

Harold continued scratching out more shadows. “What are we going to do?”

George put a hand to his chin. If he was right about the rule changes connecting to the Cass-Incident– and let's be real, he had a high chance of it on account of Krupp being predictable– then they had to deal with it and the source in one fell swoop. An inkling of a plan was forming in the back of his mind. 

And they could mesh it into the as-of-now half-baked idea they had shortly after said Cass-Incident. 

He stood up and made his way over to the Treehouse compartment where they kept stuff for their pranks. He began pulling everything out and dumped it on the ground.

“We’re going to need supplies. I don’t think the stuff we got is enough.”

The other boy sat up and dusted himself off. Confusion gave way to a determined look; he didn’t need to hear the plan– he knew this was going to be good. “What do we need?”