#tmp Blaze

[tmpnerdofficial]

SPOILERS FOR TMP3!

Blaze!

Screamer x Gluttony fanchild confirmed!?

[natiebugs]

🧡🔥 Blaze & Gill 🐟🩶

[shittymurderparty]

Welcome, Camp Counselors, To Camp Sunshine!

Announcing the cast refs for the TMP 3 fic sequel, as seen on Booloocrew's deviantart page: https://www.deviantart.com/booloocrew/art/1210842771

[shittymurderparty]

Redacted as psych

(Notice: this is an incorrect quotes blog: please check pinned post and dm if you have any questions!)

yes i know legally an accidental murder is designated as "manslaughter"

[startrekships]

Versatile model 

Bonus:

[kiwibirdlafayette]

im bored at work and feel like rambling about some mianite verse c!Tom headcanons. so backstory headcanon time

cw for zombie related things and (temporary) character death. under a cut just to be safe

I like to imagine because its implied that the Minecraft Project precedes Mianite S1 (NOT Isles that shit chronologically takes place after S2 when him and Jordan travel back in time to that era i refuse to believe anything else), that Tom starts in that realm/universe. We''ll dub it for the time being Astrakheins (iykyk) as a human. Unzombified.

I don't really know much about TMP in terms if theres a canon storyline but in this HC at least the Syndicate family has a long history of running the industry in this era and in time, the mantle falls to Thomas and his sister Alice. Under their command, the world flourishes into a prosperous empire of farming, mining and resources. In addition, a strong bond is formed with a goddess by the name of Ianite and her the Voidwalkers of the End and the mysterious beings of the nether.

However, as things go. Things go.

Within a couple years of being in charge, Tom falls ill with a mysterious infection that starts to... turn him. While he maintains a healthy physical state, he notices the skin on his hands rotting at the seams of former injuries, his hair changing from its usual brown blonde to a sickly cerulean. Alice and the others come to him with concerns, but the zombification is nothing to him. He goes on as normal, and is quite productive to say the least.

However, it isn't until after the ender dragon fight where something changes, where the illness begins to take over him in a way that renders him bedridden for weeks. Ianite herself has no idea where it could have come from, instead citing a possible origin from the Nether, which in the absence of any god has been slowly deteriorating. And to her knowledge, there is no way of fighting it. He tries to move, but eventually becomes completely immobile despite multiple limb surgeries.

And one day, his eyes closed and would not open again.

Heartbroken, Alice had no choice but to bury him, and continue on. The empire could not fall this easily. Little did she know, as she laid her brother to rest in the ground, something, not of this world watched on. Sitting. Waiting.

And finally it struck.

In the middle of a business meeting with redstone engineers from the End, a multiversal rift tears a gaping chasm through the sky, the edges burning with a blaze unlike anything the citizens had ever seen before. From it jumped a demon, a dragon, a god with furiously glowing golden eyes and a cloak covered in hot ash, his gaze set on one thing only.

The grave of Tom Syndicate.

Using the power he must have possessed he raises a wall of obsidian, magma and blackstone so high that no one can get to him, regardless of how powerful- including Alice. She frantically reaches into her pockets and calls to Ianite.

No answer.

Within he chants a language not ever having been spoken in Astrakheins before, breaking the ground at his feet to rise pools of lava lifting the body of the zombified man before him, opening his fully black eyes and red pupils to face the god.

Tom himself didn't quite know where he was, in all honesty.

He recognizes some things, some builds, some faces. His memory is foggy. He retains some names, the skills in which it would take to survive, but he hadn't come back right. He hadn't come back the same.

None of what he does remember is alluring enough to insist on staying when the god before him, introducing himself as Dianite, offers to take Tom to this realm of anarchy to serve as his champion.

Champion. How could he resist such a title? Especially after this guy seems to have brought him back from a limbo he was stuck in.

The conversation is not heard by others. But it must have been rather promising to have a deal struck in such a short time.

The walls around him and his god crumble to the ground. The earth closes up and the lava returns to its underground tomb. Dianite raises his blade to the sky in victory, and flies up, Tom trailing closely after. He goes almost without second thought back through the rift, sealing it shut behind him almost as quickly as it had opened.

And that's the last Alice and Astrakheins ever sees of Tom "SynHD" Syndicate.

For now.

[thedeathdeelers]

in your starlight (AO3)

“I had a dream about you once,” he said quietly into the dark room, the sleeping girl in his arms stirring awake.

“Mmfmm,” was the only reply he got.

“Yes, very much, mhm.” His lips twitched, eyes twinkling with the amusement and affection he felt for the girl.

A weak hand lightly swatted at his chest, then remained there, fingers curling into and bunching up his t-shirt. He smiled, entirely content with the way she was clutching onto him.

It was quiet again for a while, lying on Julie’s bed with her warm body draped haphazardly over his, the sound of her gentle breaths coming in and out extremely calming to Luke. If he really strained his ears, he could even hear her heartbeat - which was admittedly his favourite sound in the world.

“I thought ghosts didn’t sleep,” came the muffled answer a few minutes later, her face soundly pressed into his chest.

“Mm, you’re right. Ghosts don’t sleep.”

“Then how did you dream of me?” He’s not sure how, but Luke could just feel her brows furrowing as her sleep muddled brain tried to work through his words. He chuckled, the vibrations lulling Julie into a deeper sense of contentment.

“I dreamt of you back when I was still alive, back in the 90s.”

“That’s not possible. I wasn’t even alive back then.” She giggled, going quiet for a second. “Old man.” She continued laughing at her own joke, shaking slightly with the mirth escaping her body.

Luke couldn’t help but feel his chest warm up, his smile stretching even further across his face at the joy radiating off of Julie.

“Ha ha, you’re so funny, Julie-bean.” He pulled her closer against him once, her giggles intensifying before his arms slackened once again, still wrapped loosely around her. He waited for her giggles to subside, before continuing. “I’m not really sure how it’s possible, but I know for a fact that you were the girl in my dream.”

“Oh? How so?” She turned her head facing him, her face no longer pressed against his chest.

He shrugged, not seeming too worried about the improbability of his statement. “I just do.” Luke lifted an arm off her waist, reaching over to move a few curls blocking Julie’s face from his gaze. “Remember that night the other week, when we spent it lying on your terrace, stargazing?”

“The night we finally figured out our ‘interesting little relationship’.”

He hummed in reply, the arm still wrapped around her tightening its hold on the girl with his heart.

“Yeah.” Even in the dark he could still see the incredible depths to her eyes, staring back at him. He could even convince himself that he sometimes got glimpses of her soul, a pure shining light guiding him out of the darkness.

“I had a dream the summer before we- well, the summer before the Orpheum. It’s the only dream I’ve ever managed to vaguely remember. In it I remember lying down on a blanket, next to this beautiful girl as we stargazed on that same roof terrace. Back then I was confused, it felt like it was Bobby’s house, but at the same time I knew it wasn’t.”

He paused for a few seconds, remembering the feelings that washed over him in his dream. His hand, still wrapped in her curls, let go so he could trace the soft curve of her cheek, his eyes intent on hers.

“Turns out I was right - it was Bobby’s house, but also wasn’t. It was Bobby’s house 26 years into the future.”

She sat up a little, shifting and coming to rest on her elbow so she could look at him better, still careful not to move away from their embrace.

“Wait, hold on - What do you mean? As in you had a dream about the future? The future where you are a ghost?”

He shrugged again, a soft smile on his lips as his eyes roamed her face.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I mean. I was somehow lucky enough to get a sneak peek at what was waiting for me.” His hand lightly trailed her jaw line before coming to rest against her cheek.

“Death? Living life in limbo as a ghost?” Her voice quiet, a sad tinge to it. Her head tilted, snuggling her cheek against his palm.

“No. You.”

“But...”

“No, none of the rest matters. I have you, and that’s the only thing that matters to me.”

Julie lifted the hand that rested against his chest, placing it over the hand that still held her face. “But how are you so sure?”

“When you, dream you, future you, turned around to look at me, your eyes - I don’t know if I can explain it but I- it really felt like I finally found my way home.”

Luke shook his head slightly, still in awe of the feelings Julie pulled out of him.

“It’s hard to explain but yeah. Everything about that dream felt natural, and everything I did or say was just guided by instinct.”

“But that doesn’t mean it was me. Just a dream girl your mind conjured up for you.” She flopped back down, her cheek coming to rest on his shoulder. His hand followed suit, still cradling her other cheek.

“I mean sure, but I’ve only ever had one dream girl, and that’s you. Plus I’d like to think I’d recognise those eyes and that smile anywhere, even before knowing who you were.” Luke paused for a second, eyeing Julie’s skeptical look, before trying again.

“Alright, you know how I’ve told you that you make me a better writer?”

“We make each other better,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“Yes, sure. But I really meant it - these last few months, writing with you has made me feel like I’m invincible. Every song I try to tackle I somehow manage to finish, because you’re there with just the right word, or the perfect melody.” He stopped to make sure she was still following, her gaze unwavering.

“I remember waking up from that dream, being the most inspired I’d ever been in my entire life. It was like I couldn’t write fast enough, the words and the chords and the melodies just...flowing out of me.”

“That doesn’t mean anything...”

“It would if you’d let me finish.” He stuck his tongue out at her, and she returned the favour barely a second later.

“As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I couldn’t stop writing. And the minute I took a break and just pictured your eyes staring at me in the dark, another wave of inspiration would hit and I’d be scribbling away like my life depended on it. By the end of it I had like 4 pages full to the brim with ideas, which lead to the first song on the EP.”

It was quiet for a while, Julie seemingly processing his words, while Luke was happy just to watch her, his own personal muse. His hand shifted, letting go of her cheek so that his fingers could trace down her jawline.

He broke the silence, wanting to make sure she fully understood what he was saying.

“You’ve been my inspiration from the very beginning Jules. Way before you were even born.” He bopped her on the nose, for good measure.

“You wrote a song about me?” Her voice was small, almost shy. He laughed.

“I’ve written many songs about you. But yeah, In Your Starlight was one of the 5 songs included in Sunset Curve’s first official EP. I know Alex said I wasn’t a romantic, and I’m not, or at least wasn’t - but that song’s the closest thing I’ve ever gotten to writing a love song.”

“I’d like to hear it.” A yawn made its way out, her hand quickly smacking itself against her mouth.

“We’ve got all the time in the world, Jules. But I think for now it’s time for the human to go to sleep.”

“But I don’t wanna go to sleep,” came her automatic reply. And although Julie was very obviously tired, she still managed to inject a little whine into her voice, ending her sentence with an adorable little pout.

Luke had to try very hard to restrain himself from kissing away her pout, knowing full well that she needed her sleep, first and foremost. He could pepper her face with kisses as much as he wanted to the moment it was time for her to wake up. For now though, he had to make sure she got enough sleep.

So he did the one thing he knew was a sure way to nudge her into unconsciousness: he slowly started rubbing circles on her back, sometimes switching and drawing little stars with his finger, constantly keeping up with the repetitive movements.

Not even five minutes later, the girl of his dreams was asleep, her hands back to gripping onto the front of his shirt, her head snuggled onto his chest.

He may not understand the way of the universe, but he knew one thing for certain: he had somehow managed to dream up his dream girl, and have her waiting for him on the other side.

——

you were like a shooting star,

blazing across my darkened sky,

i closed my eyes and made a wish,

now here you are in front of me,

please let me stay close by your side,

forever basking in your starlight

——

taglist: @moreflowersthanweeds , @thesunsetcurvephantom , @fanfics-she-wrote , @pink-flame , @molinashimbos , @ourstarscollided , @ace-bookworm , @williexmercer , @star-astro , @phantomsandsunsets , @heademptynothoughts , @i-thought-i-knew-what-love-was , @candycornmgg , @blush-and-books , @radioactive-rosh, @tmp-jatp

[starlit-mansion]

bringing your work home with you (FNaF: Security Breach, 2K words)

AO3

She doesn't quite feel like herself lately.

(In which it takes a QA tester a long time to realize this latest project is living in her head rent-free.)

***

[This work contains some symptoms of fictional possession that manifest similarly to mental illness, as could be interpreted to be depicted in the secret tapes in Security Breach, as well as referenced depictions of common bad work cultures at video game companies including overwork and harassment.]

***

She gets a migraine at work, but she can't leave until she finishes these tests. Green spots bloom in her vision, pulse and grow and make it impossible for her eyes to focus on the VR screen an inch away. Instead of wrenching off the headset, she closes her eyes, even makes an effort at some familiar miming, batting at phantom camera panels and door buttons, trying to let her muscle memory take hold.

It's not a stress headache, nor one caused by hunger or lack of sleep. She knows the difference intimately. Her brain throbs, a spike of pain like an invisible stake plunged into her eye socket. She wonders, down in the part of her mind that observes her own pain with terrible boredom, if it means her cycle is about to start. Maybe it will thunderstorm later.

The aura passes within ten minutes, leaving throbbing and nausea in its wake. When she opens her eyes, she's in the debug area again, the one with the audio files. Did her flailing send her back here? She hopes no one notices what the last few minutes of her gameplay has looked like. You'd think a company as skin-flint as this one wouldn't have so much time as to review every minute of a QA tester's day, but there's always a chance that an algorithm grabbed an anomaly, and someone will notice.

On her next break, she grabs the store brand Motrin from the pocket in her purse where she keeps tampons and swallows it with bottled water. The caffeine in the pills might help. Another coffee might help too. She has a long way to go until she's done for the day.

Her vision feels a little blurry, and she worries for a second that the aura is back. She closes her eyes, examines them. No, just tracers from the light, painted in her retinas from when she tilted her head back to swallow. It's nothing.

She heads toward the break room proper, and pours herself a lukewarm black coffee. It's so bitter, so overwhelming, that she almost spits it back into the mug like she's a child trying it for the first time. Quickly, she adds creamer, and it's still just as overwhelming, but not as bitter. She chokes down as much of it as she can stand before heading back to her station.

Her heart races as she lifts the headset. Just the caffeine.

***

She should be resting her eyes on the bus ride home, but instead she's looking at her phone. Social media is plastered with news of a wildfire in California, whole towns swallowed. Her stomach pulses with anxiety immediately, then it settles down into apathy. Who does she know in California? Nobody special, maybe some old college acquaintances. No one she'd ask after. It's not likely to blaze hundreds of miles over land to Utah. Not her problem.

She closes the app, then opens a game. Princess Quest. She should be sick of games after the day she's had, but Princess Quest isn't vertigo-inducing work. It's something to poke at mindlessly, and it's less upsetting than the news. She skirts the monsters on screen effortlessly. 

She misses her stop by one, zoned out, and gets off a few streets away from where she should have been, hurrying past buildings made unfamiliar with darkness. Her heart is slamming against her ribcage by the time she makes it to her apartment door, fluttering with exertion and the last traces of over-caffeination. Tmp-tmp-tmp-tmp. No space between the beats, no rhythm.

It isn't until later, as she's getting ready for bed, that she notices she's burst a blood vessel in her eye, a watery splotch of red in the white. Her first thought is to hope no one notices. Her second is to hope that it's nothing serious.

***

There are no more migraines for the rest of the week, nor during the overtime she does on Saturday. By Sunday, she is so exhausted that she only makes it out of bed to forage through her cupboards for a couple of granola bars, and take them back to bed. The light coming through her window seems stark, painful, and she closes the curtain, sinking down into the covers and the dim pale glow of her phone screen.

She makes it further than she ever has before in Princess Quest, then orders a pizza on her phone after she dies. She starts another game, and it seems like only seconds until there's a knock at her door to startle her from her concentration. The princess dies in the game, and she tosses her phone aside.

When she opens her apartment door, a flat cardboard box is sitting on the ground. She can't tell if it was delivered by drone or human, but she also doesn't care. She'd only tipped the minimum on the app.

When she brings it back to her little nest, it's so warm that it tricks her brain into feeling a shred less lonely. When she takes a bite, the mixture of cheese and sauce and pepperoni grease slams through her tastebuds into her central nervous system. It's so good. She moans before she can help it, then is immediately mortified even though she's alone. Well. It's the only moaning her bed has borne witness to for quite a while. Work keeps her so busy. So tired.

She devours the slice of pizza, even though it's hot enough to hurt the roof of her mouth. She must have been hungrier than she thought.

***

The deadline is coming up, and they're going to miss it. The last level is a mess, and she's testing the latest rehauls. The game spits her into a flickering void before crashing, and she sighs as it boots up again.

Back in the main hub, she feels a strange sense of… unease. It's like the opposite of deja vu, like the strangeness of a bedroom in the darkness becoming unfamiliar, a coat thrown over a chair turning into a monster. She knows she's been here before, knows it hasn't changed, but she also has a feeling that she can't put into words that something is off. In her mind's eye suddenly, the prize counter is closer, dingier, smelling of stale candy and the faint chemical whiff of cheap plastic and processed textiles.

And yet, it doesn't alarm her, the not-deja vu. She is simply dreamy, dissociated, as her avatar moves to the prize counter. One of the plushies is clipping into the ground, flickering rapidly, its little legs sticking up in the air. It's yellow. Must be a Chica.

She picks it up. It's not Chica. It's Bonnie. It's the wrong color. 

She removes her headset to flag the error. It isn't until she tries to type that she notices her hands are shaking.

***

Despite everything, the game comes out, and it’s finally out of her hands.

She can't help but trawl social media, alternately searching out praise and hatred. Maybe it's simply a maladaptive attachment, but she feels a strange amount of ownership over the game. She wants to see it do well, wants to defend it and excuse the flaws for which she saw so much work sunk into smoothing down to mere bumps instead of jagged mountains.

Somehow, she ends up skimming a piece from one of the "thinky" gaming outlets that sidebars into a long discussion about the indie games that inspired the virtual reality experience, and about the real life events a half century ago that inspired said games.

"After the charges were dropped, the 'Missing Children Incidents,' as they came to be known among hobbyist investigators, were relegated to the cold case files. The instances of abducted children, totaling 14 over a span of 11 years..."

Fifteen, she thinks to herself, noting the error. No one ever missed C--

Her phone hits the ground, slipped from her fingers. She stoops to pick it up, stabs the article closed with a pointer finger, afterimages of something too sick to speak of flashing in the darkness of her mind.

That… that was an intrusive thought. Just an intrusive thought. Like the idea of jumping while standing near a tall ledge. Like the idea of kissing a teacher while standing in front of his desk being scolded. Strange, inappropriate, but human. Whatever crossed her mind in odd, anxious moments did not define her.

Panic is welling in her, intimate in its familiarity. She feeds it this time, hyperventilating, working herself into tears. It was a ghoulish project; she ought not to be surprised that she's having a delayed reaction, having weird thoughts about dead kids that've been dead longer than her parents have been alive.

The tiny part inside of herself that's always watching herself, bored of her own pain, is afraid too now, still and trembling and alert to danger.

It takes a long while to calm down, tracing her way through mental exercises she was taught when she was still on her parents' insurance, gulping air and wiping away spit and snot and tears until her sleeves are wet with it all. When there's nothing but trembling aftershocks left, her fingers find her phone, lighting it up with just her touch. Her thumb brushes the icon for Princess Quest and the screen blooms blacks as it loads.

Something mindless will calm her down.

*** 

She doesn't feel quite like herself lately. 

Then again, she hasn't felt quite like herself since she started working 70 hour weeks testing a VR game that made her increasingly dizzy and nauseous and on edge. She hasn't quite felt like herself since she moved away from everything familiar to take a job with a worrying turnover rate in the middle of Fucking Nowhere, Utah because it was the only place hungry enough for a warm body.

She hasn't quite felt like herself since that holiday party where one of her managers cornered her, red-cheeked and slightly clumsy with alcohol, and opined in no uncertain terms which of her… assets he personally thought had earned her a position with the company, while she froze like a prey animal in his sights, heart racing and brain emptying.

She hasn't felt like herself in so long that whatever self she imagines she was might never have been there at all, just a mirage in the distance, hope and ignorance with nothing underneath. 

Also she's been having a lot of cravings for sweets lately? Low fat yogurt and portioned bags of cookies aren't cutting it anymore.

There is a round of unceremonious layoffs at the company following the release of the game, even though it's decently successful. After all, there won't be anything much that needs testing for a while. She barely dodges the axe, not sure what exactly saved her. Luck? Her performance on the job? The… other thing…?

She can't tell if she's grateful to keep her position or not.

You deserve better than this, she thinks to herself, and she isn't sure why it took her so long to come to this conclusion. After all, it would be so simple to just try applying for some other job. This one isn't serving her anymore. 

It couldn't hurt to look, anyway…

She waits until her break to open an incognito window and search for jobs in the area. The hiring sites give her dead ends until she broadens her fields significantly, and realizes that she keeps seeing the same company flooding listings for hospitality, data entry, IT…

And it's the same company that already bought out this very game studio two years ago and moved its base of operations to this tax dodge ghost town with a skyline of two malls and an Ikea. Great. Just perfect.

She moves to close the tab, and her hand stills midway. 

She clicks on a listing.

***

The transfer seems to take forever, and also no time at all. 

This is for the best, she decides, sometime between shopping for modest blouses and touching up her roots with a kit in her apartment's mildewy bathroom. She's not a little kid. She can't just play video games all day long and call it a job. Eventually she was going to have to move on anyway.

There are three rounds of interviews, and at every one, some well-fed man with a close-cropped beard or woman with scrupulously restrained makeup tells her how important it is to the company to promote from within.

And in return, she smiles at them, and certain tiny muscles in her face twinge, as if she's never held them in that exact position before in her life.

[troped-fanfic-challenge]

AUTHOR REVEAL of the JATP ROUND 2: FLUFF FICS!

The Tropes:

Exes

Time Loop AU

Camp Counselors

Prank Wars

————

Okay, Campers, Rise and Shine! (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by nik_knows_nothing

Summary: When Reggie launches a particularly ill-advised prank war at HGC Ranch, Luke’s fully prepared to take it in stride.

When the days start looping, though, he begins to suspect that this might all be a little bit above his head.

In other words, he’s at least 78% sure that the time loop isn’t a direct result of Reggie’s pranks.

Maybe 77%.

Oh, well.

At least he’s not in it alone.

(The Groundhog Day meets Gravity Falls meets Summer Camp meets The Author’s Own Distaste For Prank Wars AU that no one asked for. Ever. At all.)

Starting To Forget (Just What Summer Ever Meant To You) (Not Rated) [Flynn x Carrie] by bi_magic

Summary: Last summer didn’t end on a positive note for Carrie Wilson - she and her girlfriend broke up on the last night of camp, and she’s been miserable since. But it seems that the universe is intent on having her fix that this summer. Even if that means she has to live through the same day over and over and over again until she does.

Creative B.S. Was No More, Was No Less (Look Around, You're Gonna Miss What You Found) (Rated T) [Alex x Luke, Flynn x Reggie] by @americanhoney913

Summary: The midnight men move again

Don’t know when

Best friends forever

In trouble again

Here’s to you, here’s to me

Over the rafters and we’re free

— Over the Rafters, Rick Schiffman

***

Alex and Luke go undercover on a mission to a summer camp in order to find a talisman that could endanger the camp and all the kids. While there, they bond with the kids and make peace with the fact that they broke up.

While Alex and Luke are away, Flynn accidentally fucks with time.

bitch but like romantically (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie] by @screamin-amuseum

Summary: The dining hall’s exactly the same as it has been for two mornings now, and Flynn doesn’t hesitate to poke Willie twice on the nose and whisper “pancake” on her way past their seat.

His eyes widen and he whips his head around to follow them, excitement glimmering in their eyes.

“Really?” they blurt. Flynn rolls her eyes and nods.

~

or: flynn gets stuck in a time loop. {for troped jatp round 2}

down by the bay (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by @sunsetcurbed

Summary: Over time, Camp Phantom has simply become known as a selective summer camp: one that took only the kids that Caleb saw promise in. And Caleb wasn’t exactly lying. He really did take only the ones he saw promise in, he simply looked for different traits than others might.

For example, say, hypothetically, a boy who could see the future. Or, hypothetically, a girl who could interact with ghosts. Or, hypothetically, a boy who could summon objects to him with a simple thought. Or, and this is completely hypothetical mind you, a boy who could manipulate time.

Those might be some traits that Caleb saw promise in. Just, like, as examples.

Time will tell (But only if you do it right) (Rated T) [Flynn x Carrie] by @malecacidd

Summary: Carrie had been acting a little off for a week or so, but Flynn was pretty much known for seeing something in nothing, and that was probably what they were doing then. If something was going on, Carrie would tell her eventually.

OR

Who knew all it took was a little bit of miscommunication to mess up time itself?

and so it begins (Rated T) [Bobby x Reggie] by @comeonpeters

Summary: It’s the first day of their second week at Camp Carolling (they’re spending an entire month, and they’re getting paid to be there!) when Reggie gets a little lost in the woods. During this misadventure into the woods, he finds an egg shaped rock, an inhabited cabin that may or may not be riddled with signs, and something that might be magic. He probably doesn’t get paid enough to discover magic.

or, when they were thirteen years old, four boys met at camp carolling and eventually became a band that almost became something legendary. now, all four boys are coming back as counselors, three boys in one band and one boy in his own solo act.

so begins the reunion, though it doesn’t go how any of them imagine.

Porcupine Day (Rated T) [Bobby x Ray x Rose] by @wr0temyway0ut

Summary: It’s been fifteen years since Trevor broke up with Ray and Rose and they’re… not fine, but managing. But when Trevor to adds insult to injury and buys the camp across the lake from the one they once owned together, the two camps become locked in a bitter rivalry. With neither side willing to set aside their pride and work out their issues, the universe decides to settle their fates itself.

Day After Day (After Day After Day) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by hufflebibin

Summary: When Alex met Willie just after their senior year of high school, they spent a wonderful three months dating before their relationship ended in a blaze of glory. Now, four years later, they meet again as counselors at a summer camp. The only problem? Alex keeps reliving their first day together. The day that Luke had declared “Prank Day.”

This is not how Alex pictured his summer going.

clocks move faster (it's all we're after) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke] by @willexxmercer

Summary: Julie likes it when her friends are happy, so when she realizes she’s stuck in a time loop, she uses her knowledge to make sure everything works out for everyone… except she conveniently forgets to factor herself (and Luke) into the mix.

Touch of Magic (Not Rated) [Alex x Luke] by @williexmercer

Summary: When everything stands in Luke and Alex’s way of getting to be with the people they love, they have to repeat the day over and over until they can get the happily ever after that they want.

the play's the thing (that goes wrong) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by @madeline-kahn

Summary: Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day for Macbeth, but not so for Alex and the production of Hamlet that he is directing and starring in. And while he’s stuck repeating the day of the performance over and over, mishaps of all kinds befall the cast.

anything, anything (for another run with you) (Rated T) [Alex x Willie] by @aroacethetic-shitpost

Summary: The moment Alex steps foot in Camp Greenwood, he knows that this summer is a bad idea.

He knows it as soon as he sees tan skin, long hair, and a tie-dyed crop top at the check-in table.

Willie.

-

the camp counselor/exes/prank war/time loop fic of your dreams (unless you read all of the other troped round 2 fics lmao)

there’s a glorious sunrise, dappled with the flickers of light (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by @tonightthestarsalign

Summary: What comes next happens in slow motion. Luke’s foot catches on the last rung of the ladder. Julie watches as he stumbles a step forward, barely catching himself before falling on his face. The ladder clatters to the floor below. The trapdoor, no longer propped open by it, falls closed with a loud thunk, the lock clicking into place. They’re stuck.

“Luke!” she exclaims loudly. “Look what you did!” Julie drops to her knees in front of the trap door, desperately trying to fit her fingers between the wood and the stone to pry it open again. Of course it doesn’t work.

“What?” he snaps back. “I wouldn’t be up here in the first place if it weren’t for you trying to fuck us over.”

or: ex-best friends Luke and Julie, working as camp counselors at rivaling camps, find themselves stuck in a time loop

the daughter of apollo (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by @the-most-beautiful-broom

Summary: (the JATP x Camp Half Blood AU that nobody asked for)

maybe the world isn't ending (maybe it's been postponed) (Rated G) [Julie x Luke] by @tmp-jatp

Summary: Alex runs his fingers through Willie’s hair. “I think it’s best to just leave them to their own prank war at this point. Let’s not forget that time Julie put hot sauce in the coffee pot and my mouth was on fire for an entire hour.”

“You’re exaggerating, Alex-”

“I most certainly am not,” Alex cuts Reggie off.

“Or how about the time Luke tried to put glitter in Julie’s bed,” Carrie joins in, “but got my bed instead? I can appreciate some glitter, but even I know when enough is enough.”

“Suffice it to say,” Willie finishes after they’ve passed around a dozen or so more memories of pranks from the summer, “we’re all done being your collateral damage. Whatever Julie has planned for you tomorrow, Luke, you’re on your own.”

-

It’s the last day of camp and Julie has one more prank planned for Luke. He just doesn’t know what it is.

Here We Go Again (Rated T) [Julie x Luke] by @kybee1497

Summary: Julie blinked as she stared at the place Euterpe had disappeared. What did that even mean? What journey? Old places and lost faces? What was she talking about? But before she could dwell on the questions swirling around in her mind, the sky full of stars began to move, shifting in place and descending until they were all around her. Julie felt her feet leave the ground as she rose up and up. One star in particular was burning brighter than the others, growing bigger in front of her.

It grew and grew, until the light was blinding and Julie had to throw a hand up against the harsh light. She closed her eyes as the light surrounded her and then she was falling. Falling down, down, down.

————

All the Winners can be found here.

We hope you enjoy these fics from our fabulous Fantoms! Make sure to leave kudos and comments to show them some love! And don’t forget, if you missed the initial writing deadline you can still submit your fics to our Non-Anon Collection at any time! Thank you all so much for participating this round! Now that winners and authors have been revealed feel free to post about your fics, create artwork for it, if you like, and don’t forget to tag us!

We hope you all will join us for Round 3! The prompt drops at Midnight tonight!

[tmpnerdofficial]

had to redraw this tgws scene with them XD

Original screenshots:

[not-a-space-alien]

Into the Unknown, Part 14:  No Refunds or Exchanges

Prologue | Dramatis Personae | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

Series masterpost

On AO3

Well, it’s all well and good to be hopeful.  Hope is the first step to solving your problems.  But unfortunately, the second step is usually some variation of actually doing something to solve your problem, avenues for which Crowley had precisely zero available.  

Crowley spent a good amount of time slithering forward in search of a way out of the Pit.  Then he had a good session of sniffing about and investigating, then a spate of time spent roving and wandering.

He had heat pits as a snake, of course, but they weren’t helpful.  The entire place was hot, glowing in his UV vision like a blazing supernova.  He had to turn it off after a while to avoid the sensory overload.

His tongue flicking out and tasting the air provided an overwhelming array of scents, all jumbled up on one another, an unread story with a thousand layers on top of one another like a hellish lasagna.  He occasionally caught scent of someone nearby, sensing a shift in the air, the vibration of footsteps against his scaly belly, snaking towards it in a predatory way, but unable to reach anyone before they ran off. He called out for them to wait, always, but they never did.  They moved at the edges of his periphery like the ghosts of timid rodents.

Crowley coiled up, considering changing back into his human form.  The forked tongue was useful for now, and there was something comforting about being in his original shape.

The soft tmp tmp tmp of footsteps sounded in the pitch-black.

“Hello?” said Crowley, periscoping up.  “Don’t run away!  Please!”

There was suddenly a bright light, the light of the innermost layer of Hell.  Crowley would have slammed his eyes shut had he had eyelids.

He felt a hand on him, clamping on his neck, and dragging him out.

The light of Hell’s throne room felt like the piercing brightness of Heaven after the darkness of the Pit; it took several moments for Crowley’s vision to adjust so he could see:

Satan was holding him, his coils looped around the length of her arm and squeezing as a panicked reflex.  Behind her was the archdemon Vycra; her face bore a gnarly set of fresh talon marks, and she looked chastised and cowed.

Crowley stood statue-still like a panicked deer as Satan lifted him up to meet his eyes.  “What’s so special about you?” she demanded.

He flicked his tongue out.

“You must know something,” said Satan.  “Some information they need.  Or some ability you’ve kept hidden from me.  Whatever it is, they can’t want you for anything good.”

Crowley’s muscular coils slid along her arm, pulsing with enough force to crush lesser beings to death.  He let out a hiss like a tea kettle.

“Maybe if you tell me, things will go a lot easier for you.”

“What are you talking about?” Crowley croaked.

“Someone wants you very, very badly,” she said.  “And I can’t imagine why.  But I intend to find out.”

********************************************

The group dawdled and bickered about what their next step should be while they waited to be contacted again by Hell.  Which finally happened about an hour later, a message to tell them to meet Satan in the same spot as before, at sunrise the next morning.

The delay was unnerving.  Their precious time in this universe before having to return was burning up.  Three days and two nights it had been, and at sunup when Satan wanted to meet they would begin eating into their third day. They were due back at 7PM, which meant that, if anything in this trade-off went wrong, they would only have about 12 hours to scrape up some alternate plan.

They sent down to Hell a very polite request to meet earlier, which was summarily and unambiguously rejected.

So they flocked together in the eaves of the church like bats huddled up, trying to get some anxious rest while they prepared themselves.

Uriel kept the Book of Life cradled in her wings.  Aziraphale caught her in the middle of the night reading it; it was open to Lucifer’s page, and she caressed it gently, as though comforting a lost loved one.

The morning of the third and final day in this universe came soon enough.

They had decided Aziraphale should appear again, but the previous encounter with Vycra made them hesitant to risk Aziraphale’s physical safety in the same way, so at least one of the higher-ranking members of the group would go with him.

If they all stood there waiting for Satan to show up, they figured Satan would probably suspect (rightly) that it was a trap, get suspicious, and call it off.  Seeing Uriel and Victoria would be a tip off that something very strange was happening and would probably shift the focus of the meeting towards the fact that their un-fallen doppelgangers somehow existed, and who knew how they would react to that?

Again, they were caught up in the unpredictability….They would have been able to have some kind of idea what to expect in their home universe, but this Satan was new, a different animal entirely.  And they had to figure out how to outsmart her, to double-cross and walk away with both Crowley and the Book of Life, unless they wanted to let this universe burn down behind them when they left.

But how to finagle it so they had the upper hand?  What if Satan brought four archdemons with her and matched their firepower?  What if this meeting turned into a battle?  What if she concocted up a way to thwart their attempts to keep both Crowley and the Book of Life, or worse, keep them both herself?  What if she got wind it was a trap and slaughtered Crowley before they could get him?

That led Aziraphale to visions of his beloved being slain as a consequence of their attempts to play dirty, and it sent spikes of anxiety through him. He was tempted to actually give over the Book of Life and let this universe fall to ruin as long as it meant he would get Crowley back safely.

But the others wouldn’t let him, because they at least had some sense of propriety remaining, and he was shocked to discover that was probably the only thing holding him back from such a selfish action.

They eventually decided it had to be Maltha to stand by Aziraphale and assure his safety.  It couldn’t be Victoria or Uriel, and Mykas would probably be troublesome as well. They decided the best course of action would be to mask Maltha’s aura with the angel dust spell.  This would obscure her identity and make it difficult to tell if she was an angel or a demon.  This would likely be better than being up-front about a demon and an angel working together, because that kind of thing was still scandalous and unheard of in this place, and the revelation would, again, draw an unpredictable response from Satan.

All they had to do was get Crowley close enough that they could grab him. Aziraphale would have the Book of Life, and Maltha would be next to him.  They would say whatever outlandish thing they had to in order to get Crowley within snatching distance.  Aziraphale would drop the Book, grab Crowley, and Maltha would fend off any resistance until Mykas, Victoria, Uriel, and Ramial arrived for backup.

They would, they assumed, be able to overpower Satan and whoever she brought as backup.  That was a big assumption.  And they only had to grab Crowley and the Book and then run away; they didn’t have to win the battle, just hold their own. It might, just might work.

Creating the angel dust for Maltha unfortunately required quite a good deal of feathers, which were taken from Aziraphale, Ramial, Victoria, and Uriel. Maltha healed the poor plucked sods because they had taken so many feathers it was doubtful they would be able to fly, but it was still a quite unpleasant experience.

They didn’t have all the ingredients they would need to make the drinkable version of the spell, so they hastily put together the dust version and sprinkled it on her.  They ended up needing to go back and make more, and even then it just barely covered her entirely.  The sun was rising by the time they finished and got into position.

The dead grass crunched under their feet as they took up position, the exact same place Aziraphale had stood last time.  The others were far enough away to not be felt, to preserve the element of surprise, and it unnerved Aziraphale that their backup was so far away.

But he had seen how fast Mykas was capable of moving.  And he had Maltha by his side now, and frankly, Aziraphale had been pretty thoroughly convinced by now of Maltha’s ability to get away with pretty much whatever she wanted, even moreso than him.  Aziraphale and Maltha both had flare guns, which they would set off to let the others know to rush over.

So there Aziraphale stood, the hefty Book of Life in his arms, with Maltha and her masked aura hovering behind his shoulder.  He didn’t dare pray; he didn’t know what might happen.

A towering inferno of flames and billowing white smoke erupted in the distance, and winged figures could be seen in the flames.

“Here we go,” said Maltha.

Leading the way was Vycra, bearing fresh wounds on her face, likely the result of talking back earlier.  Behind her, snuffling across the dry bracken was this universe’s version of the archdemon Mykas, a bearish figure crisscrossed with scars and looking incapable of more than the most bestial instincts.  A chain around his neck led to the hand of—

Satan.  She had a skeletal frame and awful, terrible wings full of eyes.  And in the other hand she held a sack, which writhed faintly.

Aziraphale eyed the sack hungrily, desperate.  He knew what was in it.  Despite the circumstances, he managed a small laugh.  “They just brought him in a pillow case.”

Satan stopped within shouting distance, Mykas on her right, Vycra to her left.  Satan, and two archdemons.  They might be able to win, if the others could get here quickly enough.  A sneer crossed Satan’s face.  “And who exactly might this be, principality?”

“An escort to ensure you play fair,” said Aziraphale darkly.  “Considering what you tried to pull last time.”

Satan’s faced crunched into hatred.  “What kind of angel is this?  What’s wrong with her aura?”

“Don’t worry about her,” said Aziraphale.  “Do you have him?”

Satan reached into the bag and pulled out a black and red snake, hand firmly behind his jaw and out of biting distance.  She dropped the sack and held him up, his thick body coiling around her arm.

The panic in his eyes and frantic movements of his serpentine body broke Aziraphale’s heart.  Crowley writhed and made eye contact with Aziraphale.  Still, he trembled.

Aziraphale thought that he needed a way to signal to Crowley that this was his Aziraphale, not the other one who had tried to kill him.  So he very subtly spread his fingers, lifting his ring-finger up slightly to draw Crowley’s attention to the golden band there.

Crowley’s eyes wheeled about in his head, and he snapped at Satan, trying to bite her hand.  It was unfortunately a futile gesture, but the renewed attempts at escape made Aziraphale think Crowley had gotten the message.

“This creature is what you want, isn’t it?” said Satan.

“Yes,” said Aziraphale.  “Let him go.”

“Not yet,” said Satan.  Crowley’s sides heaved, expelling a fearsome hiss.  “First, I demand an explanation.  Something very strange is going on.  Who is this ‘archangel’ next to you, and for what purpose do you demand this demon, that you would trade Heaven’s most holy artifact for him?”

Maltha’s hand grabbed the collar of Aziraphale’s shirt, and it was only then that he realised he had started forward to pummel Satan’s face in.  “Patience,” Maltha hissed.

“That is none of your concern,” Aziraphale yelled.  “You agreed to the trade, now let’s trade.”

All she had to do was put Crowley down, Aziraphale thought.  Just put him down, and he could slither far enough away for them to reach him before Satan could retrieve him.  As it was, she had a death grip on him, and there was no way to snatch him without risking retaliation.

Just put him down.

“Put him down,” Aziraphale said.  “And we’ll get on with it.”

Satan narrowed her eyes at him.

Vycra drew her sword, laying it across Crowley’s neck.  “Let me rephrase this,” said Satan.  “This demon must be of some considerable value to you, and I stand to lose nothing.  So if you wish to re—”

She was interrupted by an ear-splitting blast from a horn, and all heads looked up to see the sky parting, Heavenly warriors pouring out, led by Kris.

Maltha hissed.  From Satan’s side, Mykas barked and snarled viciously.

“Villain!” Kris’s voice boomed.  “I knew you were up to no good.  You intend to hand the Book of Life over to the Adversary.”

“I knew this was a trap,” Satan shrieked.  “Vycra, take him back down.  They won’t trick us out of our leverage so easily.”

This was the point at which Aziraphale dropped the Book of Life, which landed with an Earth-shaking thud to the gasps of all present, and sprinted with all his force to bridge the gap between them.  He had killed Satan once, and he was prepared to do it again, and now that he had Crowley in his sight he wouldn’t let him out of it again for anything.

The sky disgorged an impressive amount of angels.  Maltha set off the signal for their reinforcements to come and snatched the Book of Life of the ground.  Satan dropped Mykas’s chain, releasing him.  Aziraphale pumped his wings and rocketed at Satan, who was handing Crowley to Vycra.

Aziraphale drew his sword.

Vycra also drew hers.

Aziraphale’s lunge at Satan was easily deflected with a sneer and a wave of her arm, sending him careening into Vycra and landing heavily at her feet.

Vycra lifted her sword to ram Aziraphale through.

This diverted her attention away from the serpent in her hand, briefly, just long enough for him to twist and spit venom in her face.

It splattered on her cheek and hit her left eye.  She recoiled, screaming, but she dropped her sword instead of Crowley.  Whatever damnable reflex was responsible for it, she dropped her sword instead of him, holding onto him like her life depended on it.

Aziraphale stood to try and wrestle Crowley off of her, but she kicked him square in the chest and flung him back.  Crowley erupted into a stream of hisses, flicking venom everywhere, but she had pointed him away from her face by this point.

“I told you to take him and go,” Satan growled.

Vycra’s gaze—one good eye, one swamped with black, crawling venom—went from Satan to Aziraphale, then she turned and spread her wings.

“No!” Aziraphale shouted.

Vycra kicked off into the air, Crowley still coiled around her arm, zigzagging around the descending heavenly forces and veering out of their path. Aziraphale leapt up to follow, unsuccessfully trying to grab onto her ankles before she got out of reach.

Vycra was a much stronger flier than he was, and it was obvious from the moment she took off he wouldn’t be able to catch up to her, but that didn’t stop him from trying.  She rocketed up into a cloud bank out of sight, and Aziraphale followed, breaking through the mist.  The sounds of the freshly started battle below faded with distance.

Aziraphale exited the cloud into an empty sky, panting and wheeling around to try and find them.  There. He spotted the archdemon diving towards the ground, where a portal to the underworld had opened up to admit her.

“No you don’t!” said Aziraphale.  He tucked in his wings and dived.  He could faintly see the serpentine figure in Vycra’s grasp writhing and struggling as they plummeted.

The portal swallowed Vycra up.

Please, Aziraphale thought, stay open just two seconds longer.

It had begun to close by the time Aziraphale reached it, but he was able to tuck and roll to fit through it.

He hit something hard and felt his nose break, his vision filled with white blurs as he tumbled over.  He finally lay motionless on the ground for a moment, his head ringing, then sat up as quickly as he could, vision spinning.

He had made it through the portal, all right, into the infernal dimension, but he hadn’t made it past the gate.  In front of him loomed a massive white stone door patterned with an eye set into a cave wall, firmly closed.  The blood smear on it told Aziraphale he had collided face-first into it.

He wiped the blood with his sleeve, springing to his feet.  Vycra must have gone inside already, somehow. Aziraphale marched around, but the little antechamber was empty, and there was nowhere they could be hiding.

Aziraphale’s heart sank as his brain began to process the fact that he had failed.  He jogged around, looking vainly for some sign that he was wrong, but the only logical conclusion was that Vycra had gone in and someone had managed to close the gate with impeccable timing to lock him out.

He marched up to the door, huffing, and knocked on it.  The eye on the door shifted to look at him.

“Let me in!” he demanded.

The eye blinked.

“I demand you let me in.”

“No,” said a voice, and the eye closed.

Aziraphale beat at the gate and yelled till he was hoarse.  Then, he sunk dejectedly down into a siting position with his back against the gate.

Now this was a predicament, wasn’t it?  What was there left to do?  They were basically back to square one.  Aziraphale’s instinct was to march in and resort to force….but he couldn’t very well do that alone.  Could he?

Tears sprung to his eyes.

No, he couldn’t even get past the gates.  He had failed.  He was a failure.

Wait a minute.  Crowley was still in danger, and Aziraphale was sitting around crying?  When had that ever accomplished anything?  There would be time to feel miserable later.  For now, he had to put his anger aside and act smartly…something he hadn’t traditionally been very good at.

The first step would be to regroup…Except he had left the rest of his party in the middle of a huge battle with Heaven.  His mouth felt dry thinking about it.  Maybe there wouldn’t be anyone else to help him when he got back.

Surely they all had good enough survival instincts to get out of there alive?

Yes.  He had to trust them.  Now he just had to regroup with them.

Except…

This Hell did not have a static exit like the Hell in their home universe had. The antechamber he found himself in was just a smooth unbroken cave.  The only exit was the stone door behind him, which remained firmly shut.

“Oh bugger,” he said.

The only way to leave must be through the same kind of magic used to access it in the first place.  Aziraphale patted his pockets, trying to gauge whether or not he had the spell ingredients necessary to concoct such a ritual.

He thought again about the Heavenly armies pouring down onto Satan’s head. No way Hell would win that fight. Satan would probably be retreating soon, so he’d better hurry before she showed up.

Unless…?  Maybe he could hide and then when the gates opened, sneak in?  That seemed incredibly dangerous, and very foolish.  Maltha, or Mykas, or even Uriel would probably be able to figure out a way to get through the gates; the opportunity to get in wasn’t so rare he needed to risk going in alone.

He got out a piece of chalk and started drawing a circle he supposed might get him back up to Earth.  He laid out the ingredients in his pockets and frowned as he noticed he was short on the prerequisite amount of sulfur needed. Best to try it anyway.

Aziraphale mixed everything together and laid it out, lighting the candles and saying the incantation.  The candles fizzled out, but nothing happened.

“Hmm,” said Aziraphale.

A portal zoomed open in the wall.

“Ah, there we go,” said Aziraphale, paying no mind to the fact that it decidedly hadn’t come from his spell.

Maltha’s head peeked in.  She had a volley of fresh claw marks scored down her face and leading into her neck. “Aziraphale,” she hissed.  “Get out here.  Satan is coming.”

“Is everyone else here too?” said Aziraphale.  “They must’ve gotten not too far, I was thinking we could—”

“She called for reinforcements,” Maltha said tightly.  “You will die.  Get the fuck out here.”

Aziraphale, chastised, stepped out without further argument.

Maltha grabbed his belt to haul him out faster.  He found himself on the roof of the church they had convened at earlier.  The portal to Hell closed behind him.

In the distance, where the sky had been rent to produce Heaven’s armies, the two forces could be seen retreating to their respective strongholds. Satan’s escort had swelled to include an arm of cavalry mounted on Hellhorses, and Azirpahale could sense the presence of at least three archdemons that definitely hadn’t been there before.  The fiery hooves of the horses and the miscellaneous flames on the infantry glowed faintly in the darkness of the black gate swallowing them up.

Maltha was right, Aziraphale would have been trampled.  He tugged at his collar, sweating.  He looked to Maltha, who had plopped herself down tiredly on the roof shingles.  Besides the injury on her face, it looked like most of the feathers on her right wing had been torn off, as well as a few injuries to her arms and torso that had been partially healed.

He looked around.  Mykas was lying out, whining faintly under a crisscross of lacerations from holy weapons on his snout and all over his body.  Victoria had lost her left arm, which had been lopped off just above the elbow and cauterised with infernal fire, by the looks of it.  Poor Ramial was sitting on a pipe with a leg injury that looked like it would make her unable to stand.

Only Uriel, sitting on the edge of the roof with the Book of Life on her lap, was uninjured.

“What happened?” Aziraphale asked.

“They weren’t quite sure what to make of us,” said Victoria with a pained smile. “So we got attacked by both sides.”

Aziraphale sat down heavily, his head in his hands.

“I don’t suppose you managed to catch up to Vycra?” said Uriel.

“No, of course I didn’t,” Aziraphale snapped.  “Don’t be stupid.”

Uriel turned red.

“I see you managed to get away with your precious Book, though,” Aziraphale fumed.  “For all the good it does us.”

“Aziraphale, I gave the Book of Life to Uriel and told her to run to keep Heaven from getting it again,” said Maltha.  “It’s our best leverage over Satan right now.  She still clearly wants it.”

She was right, but that didn’t mean Aziraphale had to be polite.  He glowered without apologising.

“All right,” said Victoria, still breathing heavily.  “So that was a failure.  But we all made it out alive, and we’ve still got the Book, and there’s still time.  We’ve got…” She struggled to count on her fingers with only one hand.  “…eight hours left.”

“Eight hours…”  Aziraphale grappled with a hard dilemma:  if the time came and went, would he go back home and try to think of an alternate plan? …Or would he stay here in this universe, even if it meant being trapped, to try and get Crowley back?

Maltha exhaustedly leaned onto a gargoyle for support, running her hands up and down her injuries.  “All right. There’s no way around it.  I was really hoping there was, but there isn’t. The time for clever plans and bargaining is over.  We have to stop pissing around.”

“Full-frontal assault,” said Mykas.

Victoria nodded.  “Then let’s go.”

[ao3feed-tolkien]

If I must die tonight

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/79WG82H

by daughterofshadows

Rog goes out in a blaze of glory. Quite literally.

Words: 100, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 6 of May Flowers Speak For You Bingo, Part 22 of TMP Stories

Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Categories: Gen

Characters: Rog (Tolkien), Original Characters

Additional Tags: the fall of Gondolin, The Hammer of Wrath slaughtered many balrogs too!

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/79WG82H

[naijastudio]

DJ Baddo - Post Summer MixTape 2022

Download DJ Baddo - Post Summer MixTape Mp3 The veteran disc jockey is the all-time king of Mix, and here is further evidence that no one can replace him as far as producing dope mixes are concerned. DJ Baddo has released a new mixtape named "Post Summer Mix," and it is nothing short of pure fire. I think you'll all like this. You will be awed by the music nonstop for 1 hour and 14 minutes. DJ Baddo - Post Summer MixTape is now available on naijagenre.com, and don’t forget to share this website with your friends for the most up-to-date information. Track List 1. DJ Baddo – Cruise 2. Ghetto Kids Ft. Eltee Skhillz – Tunakupenda 3. Asake – Peace Be Unto You (PBUY) 4. Eltee – ODG 5. Carterefe & Berri-Tiga – Machala 6. Kizz Daniel & Tekno – Buga (Lo Lo Lo) 7. DJ Renaldo – Taximan 8. Black Sherif – Of Course I Fuvk Up 9. Seyi Vibez – +234 10. Spinall & Asake – Palazzo 11. Denny B – Egbe 12. Blaqnick & Masterblaq – La Mezcla Rmx 13. Spyro Ft. Davido – Billing 14. DJ Consequence & DJ Tarico Feat. Nelson Tivane & Preck – Number One 15. Mayorkun – Certified Loner 16. Heyteen & TMP Offisial – Kakaki 17. The 7th Sound – High 18. Asake – Terminator 19. Candy Bleakz – Tikuku 20. Godillac – Omo 21. Fireboy DML – Playboy 22. Mellow & Sleazy & Justin99 – Chipi ke Chipi 23. Super Balat – Cinderella 24. T.I Blaze – Try 25. Hypeman Lucky Ft. CDQ – Alert 26. Costa Titch Ft. C’buda M, Alfa Kat, Banaba Des, Sdida & Man T – Big Flexa 27. T.I Blaze – My Life 28. Zinoleesky – Loving You 29. Kwiish SA Ft. Vukani – Iskhathi (Gonggong) 30. Qdot – EmiLokan 31. DJ Kalisboy & DJ Black Spygo – Ambulância 32. DJ Kamol 2 – Gegegeta Beat 33. Ludy – Speaking Rubbish 34. DJ OP Dot Ft. Qdot – Gbemidebe 35. Chris Brown Ft. Wizkid – Call Me Every Day 36. Olamide Ft. Fave – PonPon 37. Burna Boy – Jagele 38. Fireboy – Timoti 39. Buju x Wande Coal – Kenkele 40. Burna Boy – Common Person 41. Fireboy – Ashawo 42. DareyCopy – More Money 43. Ruger – Girlfriend 44. Adekunle Gold – 5 Star 45. Fireboy Ft. Asake – Bandana 46. Fireboy Ft. Rema – Compromise 47. Burna Boy Ft. Ed Sheeran – For My Hand 48. Bella Shmurda – New Born Fela 49. Omah Lay – Soso 50. Burna Boy – It’s Plenty 51. Fireboy & Chris Brown Ft. Shenseea – Diana 52. Iyanya & Davido Ft. Kizz Daniel – Like Listen Below & Download MixTape Read the full article

[genlirema]

Kaitou Joker English Lyrics (Season 3 opening)

Mazes, mechanisms, headstrong boot, One hit K.O., ha ha ha~!

IQ, whimsical, mysterious,

Bundled in this gentleman, ha ha ha~!

All the mayhem, mayhem, mayhem, bursts like a bomb

The neon lights blaze like the fire in our souls

Mayhem, mayhem, mayhem, utter chaos

We’re soaring through the night towards another misadventure!

Politics, corporation, television too,

All want a piece of me, ha ha ha~!

Replicate it perfectly with Image gum

Paa para paa pa, ha ha ha~!

All the mayhem, mayhem, mayhem, bursts like a bomb

No matter what you do, there’s no way you’ll hold us down

Mayhem, mayhem, mayhem, utter chaos

We’re gonna have the world spinnin’ ‘round and ‘round!




Au revoir, la la la, it’s a cinch every time

Tell me, Miracle boy, just how far will you go tonight?

Au revoir, la la la, every steal’s a cinch every time

Ting, tmp, tap, tmp. Celebrate our victory in the shining night

(Would ya believe I spent all night writing this? Welp, I did .__.)

[trektotrek]

Episode 127 Vox Sola / Blaze of Glory. We spend the first 15 minutes talking about the Fathom events anniversary screening of Star Trek: The Motion Picture. We deep dive on a creepy monster story on Enterprise, nothing new but nothing terrible there. And on DS9 we have an Klingon episode where Worf has to help Martok get his command groove back. Vox Sola Ratings: Bob 7, Eric 7.25. Blaze of Glory Ratings:  Bob 6.75, Eric 8.

[lbcybersecurity]

Notes on Linux/BillGates

In a previous blog post, I wrote some (extensive) notes on Linux/Xor.DDoS, also known as just Xor.DDoS, an interesting type of Linux malware.

You can find that particular blog below, in which I give some history, details, remediation and prevention in regards to the specific threat Xor.DDoS poses: Notes on Linux/Xor.DDoS

This post will include some notes on Linux/BillGates, hereafter referred to as just 'BillGates', and rather than being very in-depth as the previous blog, I will mostly list high-level notes and remediation or disinfection steps. Additionally, after the conclusion, you will find other resources if necessary. In case of questions, comments or feedback, leave a comment or contact me on Twitter.

What is BillGates?

BillGates is malware designed primarily for Linux, and since it is a botnet, it is mostly used for DDoS purposes.

However, just as Xor.DDoS, it has limited rootkit and backdoor functionality and thus it's possible remote commands are executed as well as additional malware downloaded.

How can I identify BillGates artefacts?

Please find below a table with indicators.

Indicator Notes /etc/cmd.n /etc/conf.n /etc/init.d/DbSecuritySpt /etc/init.d/selinux /etc/rcX.d/97DbSecuritySpt Where X is a number, usually symlinks to /etc/init.d/DbSecuritySpt /home/ll2 Identify all files with random names in /home/ /tmp/.bash_root.tmp3 /tmp/.bash_root.tmp3h /tmp/bill.lock Identify all .lock files in /tmp/ /tmp/bill.lod Contains Process ID (PID) of malware main module /tmp/gates.lod (or gates.lock) Contains PID of malware main module /tmp/moni.lod (or moni.lock) Contains PID of malware 'watchdog' /tmp/notify.file /usr/bin/*.lock Identify all .lock files in /tmp/ /usr/bin/bsd-port/.sshd /usr/bin/bsd-port/*.lock /usr/bin/bsd-port/getty /usr/bin/bsd-port/getty/*.lock Identify all .lock files in /usr/bin/bsd-port/getty/ /usr/bin/pojie Identify all files with random names in /usr/bin/ /usr/lib/libamplify.so Configuration file

How can I identify BillGates DDoS modules? These modules are usually stored in /etc/, and will have the following names:

atddd 

cupsdd 

cupsddh 

ksapdd 

kysapdd 

sksapdd

skysapdd

It may however be useful to use the find command in conjunction with these names, in case they are residing in a different location than /etc/.

How can I identify other modifications BillGates made? BillGates does create aliases and/or modifies/replaces files which are typically used to monitor processes or the network. The following may be replaced:

/bin/lsof

/bin/netstat

/bin/ps

/bin/ss

/usr/bin/lsof

/usr/bin/netstat

/usr/bin/ps

/usr/bin/ss

/usr/sbin/lsof

/usr/sbin/netstat

/usr/sbin/ps

/usr/sbin/ss

A copy of the legitimate files is normally stored in:

/usr/bin/dpkgd/

Additionally, check for any potentially created jobs by looking in: /etc/cron.X where X is a name or folder, for example /etc/cron.daily.

You may also wish to look in: /var/spool/cron/

Removal instructions While the ps command may be replaced, top is not. Run the top command and verify any illegitimate processes, usually they will be randomly named. Alternatively, identify the *.lod and *.lock files, and use cat for example to read them, and identify the PID of the malware.

Then, use kill to end the malicious process(es), and remove the files or artefacts as indicated in the table above.

Afterwards, use mv to move the legitimate files back to their original location. You can also use a file manager to easily move them, if you have one.

You may also use an anti-virus to identify and remove any malicious files, for example ClamAV does a great job - BillGates is a rather older botnet by now and thus most antiviruses should have coverage for it. Don't forget to update the anti-virus' signatures first, if needed.

This same explanation but step-by-step to make it easy:

Identify malicious processes: use top or check the PID in BillGates' config files;

Kill malicious processes: use kill -9   to kill any of its processes;

Remove malicious files and folders, see the sections above;

Replace potentially hijacked files and restore them to their original location, see also above:

Identify any malicious tasks and delete them as indicated above;

Run top again to verify there are no malicious processes left;

Run an anti-virus or anti-malware as a secondary opinion;

Change your passwords, better be safe than sorry!

Conclusion

While Linux/BillGates may not be the biggest player on the market anymore, or even not as popular or common nowadays, the threat still exists, just like Xor.DDoS.

Practice proper security hygiene and take appropriate preventative measures.

In the resources section below, you may find additional useful links.

Resources

LiquidWeb - How to Display (List) All Jobs in Cron / Crontab

ThisIsSecurity - When ELF.BillGates met Windows

MakeUseOf - The 7 Best Free Linux Anti-Virus Programs

Linux.com - How to Move Files Using Linux Commands or File Managers

Blaze's Security Blog - Notes on Linux/Xor.DDoS

nixCraft - Kill Process in Linux or Terminate a Process in UNIX / Linux Systems

HabraHabr - Let's explore Linux Botnet "BillGates"

ValdikSS (Github) - BillGates botnet tracker

MalwareMustDie - ChinaZ made new malware: ELF Linux/BillGates.Lite

Netlab 360 - New Elknot/Billgates Variant with XOR like C2 Configuration Encryption Scheme

The post Notes on Linux/BillGates appeared first on Security Boulevard.

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