#w. tinker bell

[theatrangel]

Christine não estava totalmente convencida quando aceitou acompanhar uma das perdidas no caminho das bruxas. Ela não era alguém que sentia ânsia por poder, e definitivamente não queria mexer com nada sobrenatural que provocasse seus medos e explorasse suas angústias, mas como era difícil ter uma noite tranquila por ali ela acabou aceitando atravessar o portal. Depois de alguns minutos a perdida que a acompanhava viu alguma coisa aparentemente aterrorizante, e por mais que Christine tentasse ela não conseguiu fazer com que ela despertasse. Uma sensação horrível passou por seu corpo quando sua companhia saiu do caminho traçado, seguindo o que quer que tivesse visto escuridão a dentro. Inquieta, ela começou a tomar o caminho contrário, voltando para onde tinha o começo, de onde tinha saído. Iria achar o portal novamente e alertar alguma autoridade que pudesse ajudar a outra mulher a retornar da escuridão da floresta. Porém, ela não esperava ver outra pessoa ( @tinkeriing ) vindo em sua direção. Por um momento Christine parou, os olhos fixos na mulher que, pelas asas, deveria ser uma fada - uma de verdade. Ela não achava que um ser puro como as fadas deveriam passar por aquele tipo de provação. "Não acho que deveria passar daqui. Não vale a pena cruzar esse limite."

[lazlolullaby]

The Tinkers - Post Movie 3 Stobotnik AU ficlet

anyway remember the IDW comics storyline where Eggman gets amnesia + becomes Mr. Tinker?

Basically, Agent Stone goes out into the Universe to find Robotnik, but finds him on an alien planet, with amnesia, making simple machines + fixing farm equipment for the locals as "Mr. Tinker". He even made a helper robot that's modeled like a wooden puppet, Belle.

Stone is like, "Doctor is this beneath you, you were made for more! Please remember!"

Mr. Tinker is like, "Step into my workshop, Belle please don't worry I will explain things to this kind, misguided man."

The door closes.

Robotnik immediately turns on Stone and slams him against the wall, "Yes, I remember, my beautiful friend! But the situation has changed. Plan 2010-11-16." He looks down. "Slightly modified."

Stone gasps, "Gain trust. Build machines and backdoors into their technology. Take over. But it's been months. And this Belle - it's-"

"She. I realize. After the rather. Illogical and emotional whirlwind attachment I assigned to." He hesitates. "Gerald. I believe I lack." He stalls.

"Doctor?"

"Practice." He steps back, looking at Stone. "Loving someone back."

[bunbunsheart]

reminiscing about old childhood crushes and thinking man i should bring them back

[neurotypical-sonic]

I think its interesting how mr tinker still made a badnik adjacent, a robot/puppet, because its so deeply ingrained in him, but. eco friendly. made of wood. not powered by a flicky or anything.

[mushi-shield]

[jackalsraised]

it comes to mind that neopets is probably responsible for my only liking faerie to be spelled faerie lol

[lockedtowers]

in two seconds i accidentally created a s/tranger t/hings au for william (w tinker) and i dont even go there

[chatgpto]

O velho marceneiro foi pego de surpresa com a abrupta abordagem de Tinker Bell assim que entrou na loja. Chegou a abrir a boca para tentar responder à primeira pergunta da fada, mas ela continuou seu monólogo. Enquanto isso, Geppetto começou a caminhar pelo estabelecimento, olhando os objetos expostos e, por fim, se aproximando de Tinker Bell. Quando ela terminou de falar, ele soltou uma risada suave e colocou os braços atrás das costas, cruzando-os de maneira relaxada, embora estivesse ligeiramente tenso ao pensar na possibilidade de algo ruim acontecer com os Perdidos. ❝ ⸻ Acredito que eu já esteja muito velho para esse tipo de coisa, garota. Uns dez ou vinte anos atrás? Talvez. Conhecer um mundo completamente diferente do nosso é, no mínimo, intrigante. ❞ disse ele, esboçando um sorriso. ❝ ⸻ Isso, é claro, se eu não tivesse pessoas importantes que me mantêm aqui. ❞

Ele suspirou, pegando um pequeno objeto de uma das prateleiras e examinando-o cuidadosamente. ❝ ⸻ Mas e a senhorita, acha mesmo que esse experimento possa dar errado? Ao mesmo tempo que quero que essa situação seja resolvida logo ❞ fez uma breve pausa, lembrando-se da possibilidade de Pinóquio voltar a ser um boneco de madeira e, consequentemente, perder mais um filho. ❝ ⸻ também não quero que nada ruim aconteça com eles. ❞ Geppetto colocou o objeto de volta na prateleira e se virou para Tinker Bell, seu olhar sério, mas gentil.

starter aberta para @lostonesstarters.

localização: lost things antiques.

apesar da falta de animação com a chegada dos perdidos, tinker bell havia se adaptado rapidamente a presença deles por um motivo: o número de vendas da lost things antiques havia aumentado exponencialmente desde que todos aqueles seres do outro mundo vieram parar ali. era fascinante para ela como aquelas pessoas eram impressionáveis, todas entrando e saindo de sua loja comprando qualquer objeto que ela dissesse pertencer a x ou y conto. a perspectiva de que todos eles retornassem às suas respectivas casas, por sua vez não a animou, aliás se dependesse dela só a maldita capitã fênix voltaria para o buraco de onde ela havia vindo. com um muxoxo ela ajeitava os itens recém adquiridos por ela nas prateleiras da loja, ouvindo outro lado dela o sino indicar a chegada de algum cliente. imaginando se tratar de algum perdido, começou a falar de onde estava mesmo. “então, você ‘tá pensando em se voluntariar pra esse experimento esquisito? olha, eu se fosse você pensava duas vezes! ou melhor, três! nem mesmo o todo poderoso sabe se isso vai dar certo, imagina se você volta pro seu mundo com efeitos colaterais irreversíveis? socorro, eu não quero nem pensar, viu?” toda estratégia de marketing era bem vinda, e se tinker tivesse que avacalhar os planos de merlin para manter as coisas na lost things funcionando, que fosse!

[nonsensology]

This was supposed to just be a rough sketch, but then I started getting really invested in it.

I hadn't initially intended to include so many picture book characters, but the nostalgia was overwhelming. Does anyone remember the animated short films produced by Weston Woods? My local library used to have a bunch of them on the Scholastic VHS tapes from the late 90s. (I know some shorts were released on the Children's Circle VHS tapes back in the 80s (🎶 Come on along! Come on along! Join the caravan!), and some were packaged in Sammy's Story Shop in 2008.)

Characters:

Max, from Where the Wild Things Are, written and illustrated by Maurice Sendak

Peter, from The Snowy Day, written and illustrated by Ezra Jack Keats

Brother Bear and Sister Bear, from The Berenstain Bears series, written and illustrated by Stan and Jan Berenstain

Pooh and Piglet, from the Winnie-the-Pooh books, by A. A. Milne, illustrated by E. H. Shepard

Owen, from Owen, written and illustrated by Kevin Henkes.

Mouse, from If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, by Laura Joffe Numeroff, illustrated by Felicia Bond

Louis, from The Trumpet of the Swan, by E. B. White

Mr. Toad, from The Wind in the Willows, by Kenneth Grahame, based on the illustrations by E. H. Shepard

Mr. Tumnus, from The Chronicles of Narnia series, by C. S. Lewis

Pippi and Mr. Nilsson, from the Pippi Longstocking books, by Astrid Lindgren

Willy Wonka, from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, by Roald Dahl, based on the illustrations by Quentin Blake

Matilda, from Matilda, by Roald Dahl, based on the illustrations by Quentin Blake (with an homage to the Mara Wilson movie)

Peter Pan and Tinker Bell, from Peter Pan, by J. M. Barrie

Merlin and Archimedes, from The Sword in the Stone, by T. H. White, based on the illustrations by Dennis Nolan

Pinocchio, from Pinocchio, by Carlo Collodi, based on the illustrations by Enrico Mazzanti

Alice, White Rabbit, and Cheshire Cat, from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll, illustrated by John Tenniel

Rupert Bear, from the Rupert stories, created by Mary Tourtel and continued by Alfred Bestall, John Harrold, Stuart Trotter, and others.

Arthur Read, from the Arthur series, written and illustrated by Marc Brown

Tin Woodman and Scarecrow, from the Land of Oz series, by L. Frank Baum, based on the illustrations by W. W. Denslow and John R. Neill

The Cat in the Hat, from The Cat in the Hat, written and illustrated by Dr. Seuss

a frog on a flying lily pad, from Tuesday, written and illustrated by David Wiesner

Charlotte, from Charlotte's Web, by E. B. White

[chirpycloudyrobin]

hey hey what if yllz!wwx is actively powered by negative feelings about him a la tinker bell w beliefs so hes nigh unstoppable against the sects bc they hate him to the very bones but practically useless when fighting w lwj because everything in lwj down to the smallest atom just loves wwx unconditionally

[numbuh24insane]

Bowser vs Eggman: The Aftermath, Sonic's Realization

Restoration HQ

The Restoration's base hummed with quiet industry, a symphony of activity unfolding in the sprawling headquarters. Engineers tinkered with machines, repairing damaged equipment salvaged from the frontlines of battles past. Analysts poured over maps and reports, ensuring the Restoration could respond to any crisis at a moment’s notice. Volunteers bustled through the corridors, distributing supplies to be shipped to remote villages still recovering from the scars left by Eggman’s takeover.

Near the central operations hub, Tails oversaw a group of technicians calibrating a new detection system, his twin tails flicking with excitement as he explained the upgrades. In another corner, Belle hummed a song as she worked on long overdue repairs, her focus undeterred by the chatter of Jewel's logistical assistants organizing supply runs. The day was typical, steady, and predictable. Something that was becoming more and more common in this fantastical world.

Sonic leaned against a safety rail on the upper balcony overlooking the main floor, his arms crossed casually as he took in the scene. Below, a pair of members chuckled at the antics of Rough and Tumble on a monitor. The bumbling skunk duo had tried robbing a supply caravan earlier that week, only to be thwarted by Whisper and Tangle.

"You know," Sonic idly started as Amy came up behind him, "This place runs like a well-oiled machine. Kinda weird seeing it so . . . calm."

Amy smiled. "It’s what we wanted, right? To rebuild without having to fend off badniks every day."

"Yeah, I guess." He tapped a foot idly against the ground. "Just feels like it’s been too quiet. The biggest threats these days are Rough and Tumble making a mess of some random store or Clutch trying to pull off another shady deal. Hardly the kind of thing that gets my blood pumping."

"Maybe that’s a good thing," Amy said, looking at him. "We’re not supposed to need you to be the hero all the time, Sonic. The Restoration can handle the small stuff."

“And I’m here to clean up the big stuff . . . but nothing big has happened in months. I can’t even remember the last time Eggman pulled one of his ‘I’m-gonna-conquer-the-world’ stunts. Man, I just can’t shake the feeling that something big is going to happen, that it’s just right around the corner. If that makes sense.”

"It does," Amy admitted, her tone thoughtful. "I mean, after everything with Starfall Islands, I thought we’d have a new crisis by now. But Eggman’s been completely off the radar."

"Maybe he’s finally throwing in the towel," Sonic said, tilting his head back and gazing at the ceiling. "You know, after losing Sage . . . I think that hit him harder than he’d ever admit. She was like a daughter to him."

Amy frowned, taking in this new information. "You really think that’s enough to stop him? Eggman’s a lot of things, but giving up isn’t one of them. If anything, he’s probably using this quiet time to build something even more dangerous."

"Maybe," Sonic said, tapping his chin in thought. "Or maybe he’s finally realized there’s more to life than building giant ego-machines. I like to think losing Sage might’ve made him . . . rethink things."

Amy glanced at him, her expression softening. "You always see the best in people, even someone like Eggman. But I don’t think he’ll ever stop being Eggman. He’s always scheming, Sonic. Always."

Sonic smirked, the corner of his mouth curling as he turned to face her. "Well, if he is planning something, we’ll handle it. Like always." He tapped the rail. "But for now? I’m gonna enjoy the peace. Even if it is a bit boring."

Before Sonic and Amy could exchange another word, the lights flickered ominously across the Restoration’s base. A sharp crackle of static blared through the speakers, drawing everyone’s attention. The monitors scattered throughout the facility turned black for a brief moment before the familiar crimson insignia of the Eggman Empire appeared with the text ‘Please Stand by’.

The room erupted in confusion and alarm. Restoration workers scrambled to consoles, engineers fumbled with emergency protocols, and Tails bolted to the main control panel, barking orders to the tech team. Above it all, Sonic remained leaning against the rail, his grin widening.

"Well, well," He said with an amused chuckle. "Speak of the devil. Let’s see what ol’ Egg for brains has been plotting!" He could feel that surge of excitement and adventure rise up within him.

"If you are seeing this," Eggman began, his tone uncharacteristically serious, “Then I am dead."

A stunned silence fell over the room. Even Sonic’s grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a raised eyebrow of genuine surprise. Amy’s eyes widened before shaking her head with disbelief.

Eggman continued, his image flickering as though the message were pre-recorded. "Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking. 'Is this some sort of trick?' Let me assure you, if this message is playing, then I have shuffled off this mortal coil.”

He paused dramatically, letting the words sink in before throwing his arms out in mock despair. "Tragic, isn’t it? The world has lost its greatest genius! A monumental loss for science, for civilization, for Mobius itself! But don’t mourn me too much! I’m sure my end was spectacularly dramatic!" The scientist laughed, twirling his mustache.

Eggman continued, his tone shifting to a speculative drawl. "Speaking of which, I’m curious. What could possibly have done me in? Was it one of my magnificent plans going down in flames? Did one of my creations rebel and finally catch me off guard? Or . . . " He grinned, pointing straight at the camera. ". . . did you finally do it, Sonic?" He leaned back stroking his chin as he considered the possibility,”If so, I do wonder what prompted you to do it. I had to have had a truly devilish marvel of a scheme to get you to finally cross that line.”

Eggman suddenly retracted, waving his hand dismissively. “Ah, who am I kidding? You’d never do it. No, no, no you’re too soft. Always playing hero, always keeping me alive so we can do this little dance forever. Ohohoho!”

Amy crossed her arms, annoyed.. “He’s still insufferable as always.”

Eggman wiped a tear from his eye before continuing his spiel, “But fear not Sonic, even if I’m gone you’ll still have quite the foe on your hands! Should Metal Sonic still be operational, and really, why wouldn’t he be? I built him to perfection. Then my empire is in capable hands. Metal will carry my legacy, and he will succeed where I could not. He will destroy you, Sonic. Oh yes, your days are numbered. Even now, I’m sure he’s already formulating the best way to turn you into a smoldering pile of ash! How proud I am!”

The screen glitched momentarily, then Eggman continued, his expression softening into a smug grin. “Of course, I can’t leave without a personal touch. I’ve prepared special messages for each of you. Think of them as parting gifts from beyond the grave! They should be arriving . . . oh, about now.”

As the video cut off, the Eggman Empire logo pulsed on the screens, and then, one by one, the Restoration’s systems began rebooting. Almost immediately, individual monitors across the room displayed specific names: Sonic, Belle, Amy, Tails, and others.

“He can’t be dead, can he?” Belle questioned, her wooden body rigid and eyes wide with disbelief. She was shaking, almost to the point of breaking. The poor puppet jumped as Tails placed his hand upon her back and got her to calm down.

“There’s only one way to find out.” Sonic uttered out, for once he didn’t have his casual smile upon his face. The wind seemed to have been taken out of his sails. One by one each of them approached a different monitor, wondering what kind of message Eggman had left for them.

Sonic leaned forward, his finger hovering over the notification bearing his name. The air around him felt heavy now, the reality of Eggman’s proclamation beginning to set in. He steadied his shaking finger and tapped the screen.

The screen lit up again, revealing a new recording of Dr. Eggman. This time, the background was less ominous. It was his usual workshop, cluttered with half-finished machines and screens displaying blueprints of his countless schemes. Eggman lounged in his oversized hover chair, a smug grin plastered on his face. That grin while still as smug as ever, seemed less performative and much more natural, as though this part was meant for Sonic and Sonic alone.

"Sonic," he began, spreading his arms grandly, "If you’re watching this, then congratulations you’ve outlived me. Bask in the glory of knowing you survived the greatest mind in history! I’m sure you’re standing there, smirking like you always do, thinking you’ve won. But let’s not get too carried away. Because if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’ll never really consider this a win. Not against me"

Sonic nodded, it was true. He never wanted to see Eggman die. He always dreamt that Eggman would have a change of heart, that he would re-adopt that Mr. Tinker persona and work on making the world a better place. That was what victory meant to the Blue Blur, not this.

Anything but this.

"You know, Hedgehog, you’ve been the proverbial thorn in my side for years, and yet . . . I can’t say I ever hated it. Not truly. Sure, you’re insufferable, cocky, and annoyingly fast, but you’ve also been . . . entertaining. From our first little dance back on South Island to our more ambitious confrontations, like, oh, I don’t know, the time I turned you into a werehog . . . Not one of my brightest moments, mind you. But the point still stands! You pushed me, Sonic. Forced me to innovate, to improve, to strive for perfection. The brutal truth is that I am glad that you foiled my plans, it made my future endeavors all the more worth it."

"But," Eggman snapped, his voice snapping back to its usual boisterousness, "Don’t let this go to your head! Even dead I’m still smarter than you in every conceivable way. GAH! If I’d had just a little more time, I would have won! Make no mistake about that!” He pounded his fist against the table before calming himself down,”I’ll admit . . . there were times I almost respected you. Almost."

Sonic let out a soft smirk, understanding that was a confession of respect from the egomaniac.

The workshop around Eggman seemed almost smaller now, the man himself quieter despite the bombast in his words. "But alas, here we are. I’m gone, and you’re still here. I know you’ll carry on, saving the day and being that insufferable do-gooder you’ve always been. And honestly?" He allowed himself a small, almost wistful smile. "The world’s better for it. If I can't take over the world, then you better ensure that no one else will!"

Sonic’s hands dropped to his sides, the faint ache of realization settling in his chest. This wasn’t just another one of Eggman’s melodramatic speeches. For the first time, the finality of it all began to sink in.

He hated this.

This was something that he couldn’t run from, that he couldn’t use his prowess to overcome. Eggman was gone . . . and that fact truly hurt the carefree blue blur.

Sage had asked him to look after Eggman. Those were her final words, for him to ensure that her father would continue to live, for them to make up their differences. And he had failed that little girl, and he had failed himself.

Eggman straightened, his expression shifting to something sterner. "But enough sentimentality! I saved the most important part of this message for last." He tapped the side of his chair, and a familiar figure appeared on the screen beside him. "Sage."

Sonic's eyes went wide as he pressed his head against the screen.

Sage was gone, why was Eggman bringing her back up?

Eggman let out a confident smirk,”I managed to save her, Sonic. I scoured the Starfall Islands and all of Cyberspace, finding the remnant parts of her code, stitching it all back together and nursing her back to health! I succeeded where you failed her!” He uttered out, pressing his finger against the camera.

“She’s alive!?” Sonic shouted out, prompting glances from other Restoration members. A soft grin emerged upon his face,”Of course she is . . . It’s Eggman after all.” He was a miracle worker, always able to do the impossible.

“I’ve already integrated her into the Eggnet. She’s protected now, there won’t be any incidents such as what happened last time, and she WILL outlast me.” Eggman guaranteed, having worked long and hard to ensure Sage’s longevity and survival.

The image on the screen pointed directly at Sonic, his gaze sharp and serious. "And here’s the kicker, since I’m gone, I need someone to look after her. Someone who understands her. Someone who . . . " He hesitated, as if the words tasted strange in his mouth. " . . . who can help her find her place in this world. That someone, Sonic, is you."

The weight of the words hit Sonic like a freight train. The usually confident, quick-witted hedgehog found himself at a loss.

"I know what you’re thinking," Eggman said, his smirk returning faintly. "Why would I trust you with something so precious to me? The truth is, I don’t. But you’re the best shot she’s got. You’re . . . a hero, after all. And for what it’s worth, I think Sage would have liked that."

Eggman leaned back in his chair, a glimmer of something almost human in his eyes. "So, there you have it, Sonic. My final request. My final challenge. Take care of my daughter. And try not to screw it up." He then let out a grin,”And if you do? Then I’ll find a way to rise up from the grave and get you! Oh-hohoho!”

Sonic stood there absorbing Eggman’s last request as he heard the wicked scientist laugh for one final time.

The message ended abruptly, the screen fading to black. For a moment, the bustling sounds of the Restoration felt distant, muffled. Sonic stared at the blank monitor, his chest heavy. He tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat.

Sonic jumped as he felt a hand land upon his shoulder. His head spun around as he saw Amy looking at him, concern clear in her eyes. She ushered him over to where Tails was comforting Belle. The four of them found a nearby table, a heavy silence was practically smothering them as they sat there.

Belle shuddered.

Amy gently placed a hand on Belle's arm, her usual energy tempered with concern. "Belle . . . do you want to talk about it?"

Belle hadn’t spoken yet, her head still bowed. Belle’s hands trembled as she finally looked up, her voice quivering. "H-he called me his daughter." The room fell silent, all eyes turning to her.

"He said . . ." She paused, wiping at her wooden cheek with her sleeve. "He said he never understood the value of family until Sage. But that . . . he regrets not seeing it sooner. Regrets not seeing me as his daughter while he still had the chance." Her voice cracked, and a tear slid down her face, glinting like dew. "He hoped I could accept Sage as my sister. That we could . . . be a family. Even without him."

Amy moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Belle’s shoulder. "Belle . . ."

"But he’s not my father," Belle said quickly, her voice defensive and firm, though the tears kept falling. "My father was Mr. Tinker. Not him. Not-" She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut. "I don’t know what to feel. He hurt so many people. Hurt me by becoming him again. And yet . . ." She shook her head, her voice breaking. "I still wanted to hear those words."

Sonic stood, his face unusually serious as he placed a hand on Belle’s shoulder. "For what it’s worth, Belle . . . Mr. Tinker was real. He was Eggman, just without all the bad stuff clouding his mind. And if that version of him could care about you, maybe that means the Eggman we knew had some of that deep down, too."

Belle’s wooden fingers tightened into fists as she looked at him. "Do you think he really meant it? That he wanted us to be . . . sisters?"

Sonic gave her a small, reassuring smile. "From what he said in my message? Yeah. I think he did. He talked about Sage too, about how much she meant to him. And I think you meant as much to him as Sage does."

Belle bowed her head, letting the tears flow.

Tails frowned as he pat her back, trying to help his friend in her grief.

"Well, I don’t know what I expected, but that message was . . . something else." He crossed his arms, his twin tails flicking behind him. "Typical Eggman, though. Started off talking about how he was the greatest genius of all time y'know, classic 'Doctor Ego', but then he said something about me being . . . what was it? 'The second-smartest mind to ever grace this world.'" He snorted, but there was a small, conflicted smile on his face.

Amy leaned forward, curious. "Wait, second-smartest? That’s a compliment coming from him!"

Sonic smirked, reaching over to ruffle Tails’ fur. "Well, you are the smartest guy I know, little bro. Took Eggman long enough to catch on."

"Yeah, but then he said, 'With me gone, I suppose you’ll finally have a chance to take the top spot. Don't mess it up, Prower. Not that you’ll ever match my heights!' Like he couldn’t resist one last dig." Tails shook his head, but the faint admiration in his tone was undeniable. "Still . . . hearing him admit that? It means a lot, I guess."

Sonic glanced over at Amy,”What about you Ames? What did Eggman say to you?”

Amy looked down at the table, her brow furrowed. “Mine wasn’t much better. He said I should stop chasing after you, Sonic.” Her voice wavered slightly, but she pushed through. “‘It’s unbecoming,’ he said. And that I’m wasting my potential, that I’d be better off focusing on myself instead of clinging to someone who doesn’t share my feelings.” She huffed, trying to mask the hurt. “Then he called me ‘stubborn to a fault’ and said I’d probably ignore his advice anyway. But . . .” she hesitated, her voice softening. “He said I’m stronger than I think. That’s . . . the only nice thing he said.”

Amy sighed, “He wasn’t completely wrong, was he? Maybe I do need to focus on myself more. I’ve been thinking about that for a while now.”

“You’re all right to feel how you feel. Eggman’s always been full of himself, but this . . . this is something else.” Sonic rubbed the back of his head, his eyes darting away. “It’s weird, you know? He’s always been there, always scheming, always chasing me down with his machines. And now he’s just . . . gone?”

The room fell silent again, the weight of Eggman’s absence settling over them.

Sonic pushed off the table and stood upright, his tone shifting to something more determined. “I can’t just sit here and let this stew. I’ve got to find Sage, and I’ve got to get some answers.”

Amy stood up, worry etched on her face. “Sonic, wait. It could be a trap. Eggman’s always been two steps ahead, even when it looks like he’s lost.”

Sonic gave her a half-smile, the sadness still lingering in his eyes. “Maybe. But I’ve got to get some answers. I owe it to all of us to figure out what’s going on.” Without another word, he turned and bolted from the room in a blur of blue, the air crackling in his wake.

Amy sighed heavily, crossing her arms again. “That hedgehog . . . He’ll never change.”

Tails leaned forward, a soft smile on his face. “Don’t worry, he’ll be okay. He’s Sonic after all.”

Belle wiped her face, her voice soft but resolute. “He’ll find her. He always does.” She paused, “And when he does, I’ll have my own questions for Sage. About him. About all of this.”

Eggman Land

Sonic raced through the countryside, the wind roaring in his ears, his mind churning. As he neared Eggman Land, the imposing theme park/fortress loomed over the horizon, its garish lights and towering structures stark against the twilight sky. Yet, something was off . . . there were no patrols, no badniks racing out to intercept him.

The gates were wide open, the rides whirred and the neon lights shined bright, but not a single soul in sight. It felt as though the place had been abandoned in a hurry, left on autopilot. Sonic slowed his pace, the eerie silence pressing down on him. His instincts screamed that something wasn’t right, but he pressed forward, weaving through the empty attractions until he reached the central tower.

As he entered it, he noticed the broken pieces of glass that littered the floor. Moving his gaze upwards revealed the monitors that were all destroyed, laid in ruins. One cracked monitor had Eggman upon it announcing his death in repeat. He finally turned his gaze to the center of the room and saw a man there, leaning forward at a console. He wore a black suit that was currently unkempt, shards of glass hanging loose off of the sleeves.

It was Agent Stone.

One of, if not the most loyal of Eggman’s followers.

Sonic took a step forward, glass crunching under feet. The sound alerted Stone to his presence, the man twisted around gripping a wrench as he faced the blue blur,”You!” He growled out with a rage that Sonic had never seen before. “You’re not allowed to be here! This place is sacred! A monument to the Doctor’s genius!”

Sonic gave a sheepish smile as he raised up his arms in surrender,”Woah! Don’t worry, I’m not here to mess with Eggheads stuff, I’m just here to get some answers. Such as . . . “ Sonic disappeared in a burst of speed, reappearing directly in front of Stone, the wrench wrenched out of his hand. The man fell back onto his chair in surprise,”Such as what happened to Eggman.”

Stone felt his own powerlessness as he turned his head away from the Hedgehog. “He’s not dead.” His voice was full of pain,”He can’t be dead. The Doctor doesn’t die . . . he always has a plan! He is a genius! The greatest genius! D-death is something that can’t apply to him.” His voice broke,”He wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long.”

Sonic’s head tilted as he caught the last part of Stone’s grief-filled speech,”What do you mean, he wasn’t supposed to be gone for this long?” He asked.

Stone glared at the Hedgehog, but gave in as he saw the sheer concern in Sonic's eyes,” . . . Months ago, the Doctor was studying the limits of the warp topaz. It opened a portal to a whole new universe. At first, Eggman wasn’t interested in it. It was far too underdeveloped compared to our universe, that was before he caught sight of a kidnapping attempt and discovered the Koopa Kingdom.”

“Koopa Kingdom?” Sonic questioned,”Never heard of it.”

“Of course you haven’t.” Stone blinked,”I just told you it was from a different universe!” He leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh,”That Koopa Kingdom held a tremendous power and seemed as ambitious as the Doctor, so the Doctor decided to conquer it before it could become a threat to his own plans . . . “ Not to mention he wanted the power that Bowser held for himself. “There was a time table and plans he had to transport his whole army to this new universe, to execute Operation Catfish and then conquer it with one big battle . . . Only, I haven’t heard anything from the Doctor since he left.”

Sonic nodded, everything was beginning to fall into place here. It was like old times, Eggman finding some power that no one knew about and trying to get it for his own ends. It goes badly and now it's time for Sonic to bail him out.

He let out a smirk.

“Stone, you can transport me there, right?” Sonic asked, ready to go out and save Eggman and Sage.

Stone blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “Why would I do that? You’re his enemy. If anything, I should kick you out of here!”

“Think about it,” Sonic grinned. “If Eggman’s stuck in some other universe, you’re not exactly going to get a postcard from him. I’m fast enough to get in, find out what’s going on, and get back before you can even finish another cup of coffee. What have you got to lose?”

Stone turned back to the console, his fingers flying over the keys. “There’s a portal generator in the lower levels. I’ll activate it and set the coordinates to the universe that the Doctor went to.”

Sonic gave a confident grin. “Thanks, Stone. I owe you one.”

“Don’t thank me,” Stone muttered. “Just . . . bring him back.”

Sonic nodded and turned to leave, his mind racing. “Hang tight, Egghead,” he said under his breath. “I’m coming for you.” With that he disappeared into a blue blur as he sprinted downstairs and into the portal below.

KOOPA KINGDOM

The transition was instantaneous yet disorienting. For a moment, Sonic felt weightless, as if he were floating in an endless void. Then, with a sudden burst of light, he was propelled out of the portal and into a vast, vibrant landscape.

He landed on his feet, skidding to a stop atop a hill covered in bright green grass. The sky was a brilliant blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. The air was warm and carried the faint scent of flowers, reminding him of home, of Green Hill Zone.

He shot out in a burst of speed, rolling around at the speed of sound. He crossed each and every hill as he searched and searched. His leg collided with something hard and caused him to trip. He groaned as he twisted himself around and gasped. What his foot had collided with was the remnants of metal sonic. His entire lower body had been eviscerated, his upper body remained in three separate parts.

“Metal.” Sonic uttered out, expecting and hoping for the robot's eyes to light up, but there was nothing. It remained dim and Sonic felt a lump form in his throat as he questioned what could possibly hold the power to destroy Metal Sonic.

“Can’t stay here.” He reminded himself and continued forth. Each and every step he became more and more worried, as questions ran through his head. After all, he knew that Eggman would never leave Metal there, not like that.

He bounded over a Hill and became privy to a scene of utter carnage. In the distance, the Egg Dragoon was hoisted in the air, its body having a massive spike of Earth through it. His heart skipped a beat as he saw Eggman’s body, but breathed out a sigh as he realized that was just one of his D3COYs. His head swiveled around, going over the sea of badnik parts and seeing the disembodied head of the Death Egg Robot.

“What happened here?” Sonic muttered out, a tinge of fear in his voice. He jogged down hill, going straight towards that head . . . but stopped as he caught sight of the Egg Mobile. It was cracked, left in a derelict state.

What’s more was the fact that it was completely made out of stone.

It was over.

Sonic knew that it was over. That Eggman came here to conquer and he lost everything. After all, the Egg Mobile was always his last line of defense. It was how he always escaped and survived, not even a blackhole would destroy it. It was a safety net for the Mad Scientist, that no matter how bad things became, he could always escape it via the Egg Mobile.

But here it was.

Broken.

Just like everything else around here. From Metal Sonic to the Death Egg Robot, there was no way that Eggman survived.

Sonic sat down, leaning his back against the cold stone. His gaze moved up to the clouds, wishing that things could be different. Wishing that he had followed through on what Sage had asked of him at Starfall Island and that he checked up on the mad scientist.

For a long moment, Sonic said nothing. Then, his voice broke the stillness, soft and almost hesitant. “So . . . this is it, huh?” Sonic said softly, as if Eggman could hear him. “Leaving without ever truly saying goodbye. You always had to make things dramatic, didn’t you?”

The silence stretched around him, the wind rustling faintly through the distant grass. Sonic rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a small, bitter chuckle. “You know, for all your evil schemes, you were never boring. I kinda liked the challenge, you always kept me on my toes.” He smirked faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Even after all the times I trashed your plans, you never gave up. Always bouncing back, always coming up with something new . . . .”

Sonic chuckled, running a hand through his fur. “I know I give you a hard time, but I always thought . . . maybe one day, you’d change. You had it in you. I mean, look at Belle. Look at Sage. You’re capable of more than just destruction, y’know? You can create such fantastic things, I know if you put your genius into it, you could’ve made a better world. I mean, look at how much joy you created back when you were Mr. Tinker.”

He sighed, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. “I just . . . I wish things could’ve been different. That maybe, just once, you’d decided to fight with us instead of against us. You always said you wanted to conquer the world, but I think what you really wanted was to prove something. To yourself. To everyone.”

Sonic leaned his head back, closing his eyes as the sun warmed his face. “You were the biggest pain in my butt, but . . . it was fun. The races, the battles, the smack talk, it was all a game to you, wasn’t it? And, yeah, I had fun too. More than I’d ever admit out loud.”

Sonic got up to his feet, staring over at the Egg Mobile. “I’m going to look for Sage, I know you wouldn’t have put her in harm's way. I’ll find her and bring her back home. I owe it to the both of you.”

He raised up his arms and fist bumped the machine.

“Thanks for the memories, Doc.”

With that he sped away.

[docgold13]

The Folks behind the Toons

Bruce W. Smith

Bruce Wayne Smith was born on September 6, 1961, in Los Angeles, California.  He loved cartoons throughout his childhood and, at age 10, made his first animated film based on designs of One Hundred and One Dalmatians.  He attended the California Institute of the Arts and graduated in 1981. 

Shortly thereafter Smith got a job as an assistant animator on a TV short Garfield in the Rough and later served as a freelance animator for Pinocchio and the Emperor of the Night.  He was hired by Walt Disney Studios as an animator for Who Framed Roger Rabbit.  

In the early 1990s, Smith was selected by producer Reginald Hudlin to direct the Paramount Pictures animated film Bebe's Kids. An ambitious project, the film performed poorly and received mixed to negative reviews from critics; although some critics lauded the movie for its unadulterated depiction of Black culture and language without effort to make it more palpable to white audiences.

Entertainment reporter Kendra Beltran noted "Bebe’s Kids proved that a Black animated cast meant something to audiences. Maybe not monetarily but in a sense that Black characters didn’t just have to be the resident tokens. It would take some time before Hollywood grasped that notion but in a way, we have Bebe’s Kids to thank for what followed with the likes of The Boondocks and Disney’s The Proud Family."

In the years that followed, Smith was credited as a character designer for Ted Turner's ‘A Cool Like That Christmas,’ ‘The Pagemaster,’ and ‘Happily Ever After: Fairy Tales for Every Child.’  he additionally served as co-director on the Warner Bros. live-action animated film ‘Space Jam’ before returning to Disney as supervising animator on such films as ‘Tarzan’ and  ‘The Emperor's New Groove.’

 While working animation on the feature film side, Smith furthered his interest in television animation by creating ‘The Proud Family’ for Disney Channel in 2001. Initially pitched to Nickelodeon in 1998, a pilot was created for the network but was not green lit.  Smith subsequently co-founded Jambalaya Studios, which worked in conjunction with Willard Carroll's Hyperion Pictures to produce the series.  The Proud Family was picked up by the Disney Channel and ended up being a substantial hit, running for 50 episodes as well as The Proud Family television movie.

In 2004, Smith served as a supervising animator for Disney's Home on the Range. That same year, co-created and served as executive producer for the series ‘Da Boom Crew’ for The WB. Another highly ambitious project Da Boom Crew sought to be something of a combination between Star Wars with Boyz-N-The Hood, and argued that the series tries to recreate the "black experience in animated form." Although 13 episodes were produced, only four of which aired; the series was deemed a commercial failure.  

In 2009, Smith returned to Walt Disney Animation Studios to supervise 2D animation on The Princess and the Frog (specifically for the character of Dr. Facilier) as well as the 2011 film Winnie the Pooh (supervising animation of the characters of Piglet, Kanga and Roo).  Smith went on to serve as lead animator for the animated short Tangled Ever After and did character and animation designs for the movies Frozen and Wreck-It Ralph.  

In 2015, Smith served as part of the senior creative team for the direct-to-TV film Tinker Bell and the Legend of the NeverBeast; and later served as an animator for Teen Titans Go! To the Movies.

In 2019, Smith directed the short film Hair Love.  This was a short that centered on a young father who struggles to help his daughter with her hair and explores the weight and ambivalence of hairstyles and maintenance among the Black community.  The film won the Academy Award for Best Animated Short Film.

In 2022, Smith returned to Disney and relaunched The Proud Family with a sequel series entitled ‘The Proud Family: Louder and Prouder.’ Similar to the original series, Louder and prouder proved a significant hit for the Disney Channel - further concretizing the show's protagonist, Penny Proud, as a prominent and hugely important figure in the history of Black American animation.

In his youth, Smith was very much aware of the lack of Black characters and themes in mainstream animation.  He dedicated much of his career in an effort to move things forward in rectifying this deficit.   And it is abundantly clear that he greatly succeeded in this goal.  

[gabrielhcosta]

What if Tinker Bell was actually WOKE-er Bell and nothing changed

Lmaoaoo here's an small edit i made w the Pixie Hollow Fairies in my hcs,it was fun!!!

Happy easter everybody!!!

[knoepfl]

Hello! I hope you are well. I absolutely adored your Bobble fic it was so freaking cute. Sadly there are not enough writers who write for him. I never requested an imagine so I hope it is okay if I ask you if you could write another Bobble fic. Maybe where he likes y/n but is too shy to admit it because he thinks he is not good enough (maybe because she is not a Tinker or whatever you like). And his friends have to encourage him to confess and a sweet kiss scene at the end! If you don't want to do it then it's fine, I understand :)

Greetings from Germany ^.^

Heyy! Thank you so much for this request! I love writing for Bobble and I do not really have any ideas anymore so I'm very happy to see people like him. ^^ I had a lot of fun writing this and I also feel very special to know I'm the first one to recieve a request from you and to know I have people from Germany who like my writing! I'm also from Germany so I say: vielen Dank und ich hoffe du schreibt noch mehr Ideen! <3

Shy and Sweet

Characters:

• Bobble – A shy and inventive Tinker Fairy who struggles with self-doubt but is deeply caring and devoted. He expresses his feelings through his inventions rather than words.

• Reader (Garden Fairy) – A kind, warm-hearted Garden Fairy with a love for plants and a gentle, shy nature. She admires Bobble but fears she is imagining his feelings.

• Tinker Bell – Bobble’s supportive but slightly mischievous friend who pushes him to confess his feelings. She acts as a motivator and comic relief.

• Clank – Bobble’s best friend, well-meaning but not very subtle. Encourages Bobble and adds humor to the story.

Trigger Warnings:

• Low self-esteem/Self-doubt – Bobble struggles with feelings of inadequacy, believing he is not good enough for the Garden Fairy.

• Mild anxiety – Both characters experience nervousness and insecurity when confessing their feelings.

• Mentions of spying (for comedic effect) – Tinker Bell and Clank eavesdrop on Bobble’s confession, though it is portrayed humorously.

Masterlist

Words: 1454

---- Bobble had always believed that every fairy had a purpose. Tinker fairies built, fixed, and invented—working behind the scenes to ensure Pixie Hollow functioned smoothly. That was his role, and he loved it.

But when it came to her, the fairy he admired more than anything, he felt completely and utterly useless.

She wasn’t a Tinker. She was a Garden Fairy, full of warmth and grace, with soil-stained hands that somehow made her even more beautiful. Every time she laughed, it was like the first light of dawn breaking through the trees. Bobble had never been very good with words, but if he could build something to capture the way she made him feel, it would be the most delicate, most breathtaking invention he had ever created.

The problem was… he wasn’t brave enough to tell her.

And so, he showed his feelings in the only way he knew how.

Whenever she struggled with something—like carrying heavy bags of seeds or finding a way to water delicate sprouts without crushing them—Bobble would show up with an invention. A specially crafted seed dispenser, a tiny sprinkler that mimicked raindrops, a sun-powered lantern for her late-night gardening. Each time, she would smile so brightly at him, and he’d feel like his wings might stop working altogether.

But that was enough, right? Just seeing her happy?

At least, that’s what he told himself—until Tinker Bell found out.

“You like her?”

Bobble nearly dropped the handful of gears he had been holding. He turned to see Tinker Bell standing behind him, arms crossed, eyebrows raised in knowing amusement.

“W-what? Who?” Bobble stammered, fumbling with his goggles.

Tink rolled her eyes. “Come on, Bobble. You’re always making her little gifts. You get all flustered whenever she’s around. You’re in love with her.”

Bobble swallowed hard. The words made his heart stutter.

“I-I wouldn’t say love, exactly,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… she’s amazin’, Tink. She’s got this way of makin’ everything feel brighter, like the whole of Pixie Hollow is just a wee bit warmer when she’s around.”

Tink’s expression softened. “So why haven’t you told her?”

Bobble sighed and turned back to his worktable, fiddling with a small, half-finished pendant made from tiny silver gears.

“Because she deserves someone… better.” His voice was quieter now. “Someone who knows how to say all the right things. Not just some clumsy Tinker with big glasses and—”

“Bobble.” Tinker Bell placed a firm hand on his shoulder, cutting him off. “You are good enough. She already likes you—you’re just too scared to see it.”

Bobble blinked at her. “You really think so?”

Tink smirked. “I know so.”

Clank, who had been listening in the background, suddenly clapped Bobble on the back so hard he nearly toppled over. “Go tell her, mate! Or I will!”

Bobble’s wings twitched nervously. Tell her?

Could he really do that?

That evening, as the sky melted into hues of pink and lavender, Bobble found her near the Pixie Dust Tree. She was kneeling by a patch of moonflowers, gently coaxing the delicate petals open with the soft glow of pixie dust.

His heart hammered in his chest.

“You always make that look so easy,” he said before he could lose his nerve.

She turned, smiling at him. “Bobble! What brings you here?”

He hesitated, then stepped forward, clutching the small pendant he had been working on all day.

“I, uh, I made somethin’ for you,” he said, holding it out with trembling fingers.

She took it carefully, eyes widening as she examined the intricate silver petals. “Bobble, it’s beautiful.”

Bobble swallowed hard. His pulse pounded in his ears. This was it.

“I—there’s somethin’ I’ve been wantin’ to say,” he admitted, voice shaking. “I—I like you. A lot. I have for a long time.”

Silence stretched between them. His hands clenched into fists, bracing for rejection.

But then, she smiled. That smile. The one that made him feel like he was flying even when his feet were on the ground.

“Oh, Bobble…” She stepped closer, reaching for his hands. “I like you too.”

Bobble’s breath hitched. “You do?”

Instead of answering, she leaned in, pressing a soft, warm kiss to his cheek.

His entire body went still. His wings fluttered wildly, his goggles nearly slipping off his nose. Somewhere in the distance, Clank let out a loud whoop, and Tink’s laughter rang through the air.

Bobble barely heard them. All he could focus on was the fairy in front of him, smiling at him, choosing him.

---

Bobble’s heart pounded as she pulled away, her soft lips still lingering on his cheek in the form of a warm, fluttery sensation. His wings twitched so fast he thought he might lift off the ground without meaning to.

She had kissed him.

She liked him.

His mouth opened, but no words came out. His brain had completely stopped working.

She must have noticed, because she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let out a nervous little laugh. “U-um… was that okay?”

Bobble blinked rapidly, his face heating up. “Okay? I—uh—I mean, aye, it was more than okay! It was—” He let out a high-pitched laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just—uh—wow.”

Her cheeks turned a soft pink as she fidgeted with the pendant he had given her. “I’ve been hoping you’d tell me how you felt for a while…” she admitted shyly, looking down at the little silver flower in her hands. “But I didn’t want to say anything first. I was worried maybe I was imagining it.”

Bobble’s jaw nearly dropped. “You were worried?”

She nodded, her wings fluttering nervously. “You’re so talented, Bobble. Always inventing these amazing things, helping everyone… I thought maybe you just saw me as a friend.”

Bobble felt like his heart might burst. “Oh, lass,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “You have no idea.”

Before he could stop himself, he gently took her hands in his, squeezing them as he looked into her eyes. “I’ve liked you for so long. I just thought you deserved someone… someone better than a clumsy Tinker like me.”

She gasped softly, shaking her head. “Bobble, don’t say that.”

His breath hitched as she took a small step closer. “You’re kind,” she whispered. “And clever. And you always know how to make me smile.” Her fingers curled around his. “I don’t want someone else.”

Bobble felt like his wings had stopped working entirely.

Then, as if realizing how bold she had just been, she suddenly looked away, cheeks burning. “I-I mean, um… if you still like me, that is…”

Bobble let out a breathless chuckle, his heart swelling with adoration. “Aye. I still like you,” he murmured, barely believing this was real.

She peeked up at him through her lashes, and something about the way she looked—so shy, yet so happy—made Bobble’s heart skip a beat.

Before he could even think about it, he lifted her hand and pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to her knuckles.

She gasped, eyes going wide, and Bobble immediately panicked. “Oh! Was that—was that too much? Did I—”

But she only giggled, hiding her face behind her hands as her wings fluttered wildly. “N-no! I just… I wasn���t expecting that…”

Bobble grinned, feeling a new sense of confidence bubble up in his chest. “Good surprise, then?”

She peeked at him through her fingers, her smile soft and full of warmth. “The best.”

A loud CRASH suddenly sounded from the bushes behind them, making both of them jump.

Bobble turned just in time to see Clank stumble out from behind a tree, looking sheepish. Tinker Bell hovered beside him, arms crossed, shaking her head.

“Oops,” Clank muttered, his large hands fumbling to straighten his vest. “Didn’t mean to fall outta the bush.”

Bobble groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Were you spyin’ on us?”

Tinker Bell smirked, not looking the least bit guilty. “Spying is a strong word. I’d call it… making sure you didn’t back out.”

Clank beamed. “And makin’ sure ya finally kissed!”

Bobble’s face turned bright red. “I didn’t kiss—” He stopped, glancing at the fairy beside him, who was now covering her mouth to stifle a giggle.

Tinker Bell raised an eyebrow. “Not yet.”

Bobble’s heart practically stopped. His eyes darted back to the girl next to him, and to his surprise, her own cheeks were red as well.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, shyly, hesitantly, she reached for his hand again.

Bobble’s breath caught.

And as she leaned in—closer, closer—he finally let his eyes flutter shut.

And when her lips softly brushed his, it was more magical than anything he could have ever invented. ----

[sgt-seabass]

ʙᴜʀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ

✧˚ · . your fairy tale life ends in a slew of blood.

pairing — witch!bucky barnes x fairy!f!reader w/c — 5.3k listening to — ♫burn the witch warnings — no use of y/n, dark elements, body horror, blood and gore, non-con, kidnapping, bondage, chasing, mild violence, use of magic for evil deeds, drugging, dead dove (don’t eat it and complain to me about it) a/n — happy halloween! thank you to @goldylions for beta-ing. all mistakes are my own. shout out to @navybrat817, @rookthorne and @vonalyn for cheering me along with this fic.

Many fairy tales had been read to you as a child, back when you were small and your wings tiny. The forest was a place for fairy kind, as were all biomes. A holy sanctuary for those with magic, where the trees hugged and created a shelter of heaven-spun leaves and branches. An unspoken promise of protection.

It was not a place to be afraid. Not even in the nighttime. For the moon, bathed in the sun's light, provided a wave of peace to the world around it. The deepened hues of a dark forest lit by starlight were a place of magical refuge.

While many normal humans would be afraid, fairy-kind was taught that forests were a place of ancient souls, like the deep sea or the clouds above. And being half-fairy, this was a teaching you received at an early age.

But the forest you woke in was unlike any story you’d heard before. This was uncharted territory.

“Tinker Bell.”

The misty voice startled you awake. Your eyes opened, immediately taking in the deep red sky. There was a blood moon above, unlike any lunar eclipse you’d seen. The red glowed across the sky and your skin, as if you were alight with the malice that lay hidden.

As you sat up, you took in your surroundings. The dark oak and spruce surrounding you stood as noble knights, protecting something from view with its thick foliage. What wanted to remain hidden?

The dirt floor was sodden with woven roots and fallen leaves, dead and decaying. The only sweetness in the air was the subtle whiff of sap, but it was entirely eclipsed by the earthy smell of rotting wood among damp, stale bark.

This was no fairy tale but a place of nightmares.

No animals scurried at the sound of you rising, no birds sang, the area seemingly barren of any life. You didn’t know how you got here but knew you needed to get out. A place like this was not something Mother Nature would have conjured.

Your heart craved the softened, freshly aromatic scent of the forest near your family home. Where the leaves were crisp, and the sun gently kissed the treetops, creating a beautiful shine. You could almost taste the lovely sweetness of the fresh berries you’d find foraging. It was the opposite of how your stomach roiled at the smell of a dying forest.

The red light made it hard to see, darkness covering every inch of land. Looking down at the muddy turf, you wondered if it was blood you stood upon. But a quick swipe through the grime confirmed it was earth. There was an oddness to the scent of the soil. You rolled it between your fingers, pursing your lips. While it was dirt, this was not dirt you would find in the human world. It did not hold the magical properties it usually would.

This meant either you’d been transported to another realm or were stuck in a plane between the layers of earth and heaven.

Your hands patted over the clothes you’d been put in. A green sundress with a red robe tied neatly with a bow around your neck. These weren’t items from your closet. They felt fresh. New.

A sense of danger prickled across your skin, goosebumps rising on your flesh and hairs standing on end. You were not alone here.

The sound of old leaves crunching sounded behind you, and it didn’t take much initiative to begin running in the other direction.

Your heart began to race as a chase started with the unknown entity. You could hear it behind you, deep breathing and grunting. It was an obstacle course trying to avoid logs and roots, while trying to stop yourself from retching due to the pungent smell of burning, decaying flesh.

Sprinting away from danger raised a primal fear in you. The kind that rips your body apart so that every ounce of concentration, energy and intelligence can be used to escape the nightmares that trailed behind.

A blend of growls mixed in as a pack of rabid wolves jumped out from the side, lunging for you. You yelped, narrowly ducking and weaving away from the gnashing jaws of the animals. They joined the chase behind you, barking when you managed to jump a log that tripped a few of them. The wolves didn’t stop, though. They joined the ominous deep breathing that pursued you, as if you were Red Riding Hood fleeing from danger.

Needing to go faster, despite the close confines around you, you extended your wings from your back and threw away the cloak. Normally, your wings would open to the light of the sun, the streaks of light reflecting beautiful rainbow hues. But now, they added to the glowing red surrounding you, as if they were broken and bloodied. A sense of foreboding overtook you at the thought. 

You began fluttering to move faster, your feet only lightly touching the ground. Being half fairy, you couldn’t reach the heights of a typical fairy, restricted by your human-sized body, but that didn’t matter with the many branches that loomed and imprisoned you close to the forest floor.

Crows cawed, their wings flapping as they followed you with red eyes. You could tell they and the wolves were not real, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t hurt you. The birds dove for your wings, and you had to change paths to try and avoid them.  

Snakes slithered along the ground, and spiders bared their fangs on the branches above your head. It was claustrophobic, as if this evil presence was closing in on you, causing you a fear worse than your most violent nightmares.

With heaving breaths, running on pure adrenaline, you pushed yourself further than ever before.

You started to lose the animals and the mysterious creature, and it gave you a chance to begin your song.

Fairies cast their magic through their voices, affecting all who listened. Humans often did not understand the words but did not need to. The melody alone was enough to bring love and laughter to life. For that was the gift fairies brought. Through the pureness of their hearts, magic could be accessed and shared with the world.

While fairies appeared like blossoming flowers, there were dark vines that snaked from the ground. Those who used their magic for wicked intentions were considered dark witches. Banned from the sanctorum where Mother Nature sits, witches could never gain Mother Nature's trust, hence never earning their wings.

The song you cast into the acrid air was one of hope. A beautiful tune that caused fairy dust to fall from your wings as you fluttered faster, your strength increasing. But what you did not see behind you was the way the ground swallowed the dust, absorbing it to fuel a power that lay below.

“Tinker Bell.” A voice called to you. The name is reminiscent of the childhood teasing you’d endured during your youth. But the voice now held no innocent oblivion to the way it made fun of you. “Pretty fairy, you cannot outrun me.”

With no destination in mind and no path to guide your way, you continued through the forest with threatening sounds behind you. And before long, the trees opened up into a small clearing. There was no reprieve, though, as the trees that formed the circled area were so thick there would be no way you could continue into the forest without having to squeeze past.

Skeletons and discarded bones covered the ground, and each time your foot touched one, they crumbled with a sickening crunch. Humans, animals, and all kinds of beings lay dead in the field, no flesh left to discern them. Their graveyard would soon become yours too, you feared.

“Tinker Bell,” the voice sounded, and it was much closer now. You spun around with fluttering wings, doing a full turn with magic dust falling to the ground, but you couldn’t see anyone. The ground rumbled beneath you, and you gasped at the sight of vines shooting up to try and grab you.

With darting movements, you maneuvered around the vines that tried to capture you. But the more you began to panic, the more magic that came from you, and the world around you absorbed it. The vines started growing in power, getting thicker and faster the more you tried to fly away.

The blood moon was in full force now. The entire sky was a pool of scarlet, ruddy and nauseating. This realm was feeding off your fear, taking it and using it for its own power. 

It was then the being showed itself, walking from the thick foliage into view. The sight of him shocked you so severely that you became distracted, and the vines took their chance to snake around your ankles and up your legs, stopping at your upper thighs. Another two vines grabbed each arm, holding you helplessly in place.

Before you stood an Oni. Or at least someone appearing to be one. A Japanese legend, Oni, were created through the death of a wicked human. Weidling iron clubs as their weapon, they would find enjoyment in crushing and destroying humans. They were bearers of punishment. While this man had no weapon, you feared for what he had planned for you.

But what did you do apart from giving the world your pure heart? What made you deserving of an Oni’s wrath?

Your wings kept fluttering as you took in the man's mask. Covering his face was intricate carvings on a deep charcoal wood. Horns extended on either side, with swirls that covered them down to the blackened eye holes. You could see his piercing blue eyes, stark in comparison to the darkness that surrounded them. The carved swirls continued down the mask's jaw, where it had cut sharp teeth with two fangs on both sides. The man was bulky, not the size of the Oni you had heard of, but he certainly eclipsed the size of an average human. He had to be almost seven feet at least.

He wore only black, with loose pleated pants on his legs and a robe covering his top beneath. One of his hands shone in the red light, and it took you a moment to realise that’s because it was an intricate metal, not flesh.

The sight caused an unrelenting fear in you, as if he had your heart in his hand, beginning to squeeze your very life with his threatening grip.

“Hello, Tinker Bell,” the man spoke, the deep timbre of his tone shaking you to your core as you struggled against your binds. “Are you lost, little fae? These woods are no place for a fairy like you,” he teased, and you could hear the smile in his voice despite the way his face remained hidden.

“Then let me go,” you snapped, trying to use wisps of magic to get the vines to recede, but all it did was make them stronger.

“Ah, hm, no.” The man approached in long strides with flouncing hair as the vines forced you to your knees, your body sinking slightly into the plush earth. “That would be an awful waste of all my effort, Tinker Bell.”

“That’s not my name,” you snapped, beginning to tire of his antics. You just wanted to go home.

“Don’t bore me with your birth name. Tinker Bell suits you much more.” His stature towered above you as he looked down at you, his hair falling around the sides of the mask. The mask was even more intimidating up close. Power radiated off his being, darkness oozing like a sick sludge from him. This was a man to be scared of. 

You began to tremble, causing the vines to rustle as you tried to still yourself. In the eyes of a predator, it is best to try and make yourself seem intimidating. But there’s not much you can do as tears well in your eyes. Your mother had always teased you for having such a sensitive soul.

“Aww, are you going to cry? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You sniffled, spikes of fear lighting your blood like an electric bolt. “What do you want?” 

“Those wings, pretty girl.”

Your eyes widened, and your blood ran cold. You held your breath with a sharp inhale, anxiety clutching at your heart. When you’d first presented with your wings, you’d been warned that they were a rare commodity, much like an elephant's tusks. There were puissant people who wanted to increase their power, and a set of fairy wings granted immense magical properties.

“I don’t want to die,” your voice turned into a high whine as reality set in. This red forest would be your final resting place.

The man laughed heartily, causing you to flinch like he had slapped you.

“Oh, you’re not going to die. Don’t you know? Fairy wings grow back. Why on earth would I kill you when I can have a fae of my own?”

If anything, that was a fate worse than death.

“What’s your name?” You gulped, holding back the sobs that wanted to escape.

“You can call me Bucky.”

You were not above grovelling, and you were already on your knees, so you begged. “Bucky - please. Just let me go home. I’m begging you. I have a family, friends, people who will miss me. Just let me go, and I won’t tell anyone about you.”

His eyes darkened as if they were adapting to the shade of the mask surrounding them. There was a deathly silence as he considered you. “No.”

He seemed angry at the mere thought of you being missed. You wondered if it was jealousy. Does he have anyone caring for him? Unlikely based on his method of trying to gain more power. This does not seem like a personable man.

So, you tried a different angle.

“Bucky, you’re a witch, right? That’s how we’re in this realm. You made it?” His eyes narrowed as you spoke, but he didn't stop you. “We’re the same. Magical beings. We should be working together, not against each other. M-Maybe I can help you with some magic? In exchange for my release?”

“The moment I let the vines go, let you leave this place, you will leave me and never look back. Don’t lie to me, Tinker Bell. I can see through your bullshit,” Bucky spat venomously, moving away from you towards a large log that sat in the clearing.

And he wasn’t wrong. It was your intention to run and conjure a teleportation spell the moment you got out of this nightmare realm.

The vines picked you up despite your screams for freedom, carrying you towards the log. “Please, don’t do this! We’re cut of the same cloth. We should be working together! You can stop now. It’s not too late. Please, let me go!”

Bucky watched as you were placed over the log so your front rested against the bark. Your body curved over the trunk, breasts squishing uncomfortably against the hard surface as the vines pulled your arms and legs towards the ground.

A heat rose in your cheeks. You were stuck with your ass elevated, your dress ridden up, so your panties were on display to Bucky. The more you struggled against the binds, the stronger they held.

The blood rushed to your head when you let your neck relax, chin bumping against the log. Reality was setting in, your hope beginning to whittle away. “Please, don’t.”

“Plead all you want, Tinker Bell. No one can hear you here,” Bucky’s voice sounded behind you, his hands groping at the flesh of your thighs. “In fact, I’ll enjoy it more hearing your sounds.”

Bucky let his hands run over your skin, causing goosebumps to rise everywhere he touched. You could sense the power emanating from him, a dark magic present in his entire being.

The vines held firm, so tightly wrapped around your limbs that it felt as if they were seconds away from snapping your bones in their grip. You whimpered, skin cutting against the bark as you writhed.

You couldn’t help the arousal that began to pool in your core with the way Bucky groped you. His devilish hands warmed you like he lit a fire in your entire being. He was undoubtedly a powerful creature.

“You’ll want to be numbed for when I cut your wings off…” Bucky trailed off, and when you looked back you gasped.

He’d taken his cock out. Hard, veiny, and inviting – the thick flesh had an angry red tip, shining precum at the tip. You wondered if he tasted as powerful as his magic.

Bucky took a string of fabric to tie back his hair so it was in a tight bun. You watched, mesmerised by how he moved so fluidly.

He kept his eyes on you the whole time, his dark stare not leaving you as his cock bobbed between his legs when you let out a sniffle.

The mask stayed on after Bucky had finished with his hair, and you couldn’t help but be curious about your captor. Would he look like the demon he projected?

Bucky lifted the bottom of the disguise to spit into his hand, running his palm over the ridges of his cock with a grunt as his metal hand yanked your panties down.

Reality came crashing down, and you cried out. “Wait! Don’t! Please, don’t.”

“You don’t want to be in pain, do you? I could cut your wings with no analgesic, but I’m doing you a favour by giving you my cum,” Bucky’s hands gripped either side of the trunk, allowing his cock to sit nestled in your exposed ass cheeks. “I’m being nice. I’m not even going to fuck you.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping you. “This isn’t being nice.”

“Oh? Not even when I do this?” Bucky snapped his fingers with an incantation, and a small vial of pink liquid appeared in his hand. He took the ampoule, moving his cock out of the way so he could pour it over your ass, letting the pink sparkling fluid seep down into your folds.

Your entire body went taut, sudden bolts of pleasure shooting through your body like firecrackers. Your toes curled, and you wailed out a moan, wings fluttering crazily as you tried to process what was happening.

The arousal coursing through you was like nothing you’d ever felt before, Bucky’s magic infecting you and making your brain spiral like you’d had multiple orgasms at once.

Rainbows of colour swirled in your vision as Bucky began sliding his cock against your ass. You could barely register the rocking movement as euphoria filled your brain, the lust making your hair stand on end.

“See? It’s not so bad, Tinker Bell,” Bucky groaned, humping against you and pushing you harder against the log. “I bet no one has touched you like this before.”

Bucky kicked your legs out so you were spread wider, allowing him to slide his cock along your pussy, collecting your arousal. He rubbed the tip of his cock on your clit, and you moaned obscenely. “St— op”

“Ah, you don’t really want me to, do you? Look how wet you are for me. I bet I could make you cum just with my cock.” Bucky wasn’t wrong. He rolled your clit with the head of his dick, and whatever magic he’d used on you had it feeling like tongues were lapping at you.

“That’s it, come on, cum for me. Soak me. Lose that innocence for me, my little slut,” Bucky leant forward, hands pressing down on your wings, teeth nipping at your ear.

That was all it took for the dams to burst. The world was vibrant as you came, red filling your vision, your body shaking with mewls as your juices gushed against Bucky’s cock.

Your wetness allowed Bucky to easily slide against your flesh, heat radiating from his pulsing cock as he grunted with each thrust. “Fuck. You’re perfect.”

Time seemed to warble, your brain unable to keep up as Bucky grabbed your ass, pressing your cheeks together so he could fuck them harder. “Shit, fuck, oh— oh, I’m close.”

Bucky suddenly pulled back, and you hoped the ordeal was over. How wrong you were.

“They’re soft as silk, Tinks,” Bucky commented, running his fingers over the reflective surface of your wings. You tried to flap them to get his hand to move away, but he was fast, grabbing onto the delicate membrane of your wing.

“Don’t touch them. That hurts,” you whimpered in your haze, writhing against the vines.

“Oh, I’m going to do far more than just touch them.”

You felt as Bucky played with the pliability of your wings, the body part easily manipulated as it was soft and light, the only dense part of your wings being the cartilage that secured them to your back.

Pure horror filled you as he placed his palm onto your wing, forcing it against the log, using his other hand to curve the opalescent surface of your appendage around his cock.

“Fuck. So fucking soft. I knew it would feel amazing,” Bucky moaned, using your wing like a sheath for his cock.

You could feel the heat from his dick against you, your wings sensitive and full of nerves like the rest of you.

“Stop…” You cried, tears still falling, and you were surprised you had any left to cry.

To be defiled like this was something unimaginable. The happiness that you so often felt in your soul was becoming a chimera – no more than a hopeful illusion.

With Bucky’s grunts sounding behind you, you craned your neck to look at the sky, the red reflection making it look as if you were shedding tears of blood.

The blood moon shone proudly, the sky clear of clouds, leaving just redness to cover everything. What did you do to deserve this? Was it simply your fate to be a sacrifice to the wretched? Was there such a thing as fate at all? For so long, you’d considered your life set up upon a lineage Mother Nature set out for you. But no loving figure would force this reality upon one of her creatures, right? Your whole belief system felt shaken, like your entire world compass was stomped on and shattered.

What had you done wrong?

In reality, you’d done nothing to merit such treatment.

Yet the world bestowed the pain on you regardless.

“Enough, stop. It hurts,” you whimpered, the bend on your wing uncomfortable as Bucky thrust into it.

“Oh, it feels too good to stop, pretty girl. It’s like fucking straight magic.” Bucky’s hands braced against the log, using wisps of dark power to keep your wing in a circle.

The power from him escalated, dark clouds pouring from him and billowing across the ground, covering the graveyard of souls surrounding you. His breathy moans got louder, his grip on the log causing cracks to form in the wood.

“F-Fuck, feels too good. I’m going to cum. Yeah, you want my cum, don’t you? Dirty slut.” His hips lost their rhythm, beginning to stutter as he came. Bucky was quick to pull back, his cum coating your back where your wings connected with your flesh.

It was an odd feeling that washed over you. It was something akin to calmness, although it was forced upon you. The last movement you could manage was to look back, brows knitting together when you saw that Bucky’s seed was coloured black, before your body went involuntarily lax.

You lay over the log, your breathing levelling out as you became numb to the world. His spell didn’t just anaesthetise your body, but your emotions too.

You couldn’t even wish to be asleep as you started at the foggy ground.

The vines eased up, not needing to hold you so tight when there was no struggle, their tension leaving marks on your limbs.

“You’re so perfect.” Bucky complimented, but there was no smile on your face.

There was nothing.

You were nothing.

This was the end of everything, and the start of the aphotic zone.

The remnants of your tears fell onto the bones below, cleaning away some of the dirt covering them. But the damage to them remained. Just as the damage to you began.

You couldn’t see what Bucky was doing, nor could you feel it, but you could hear it. There was a sick squelching noise, followed by a sawing sound, as Bucky began to hack at the cartilage connecting your wings.

It was like nails on a chalkboard, nausea roiling in your stomach as you had no choice but to lay there like a rat in a laboratory, ready to be dissected in some horrid experiment.

He could have magically removed them. He’d more than exemplified he had the power to. But he’d chosen the barbaric route for his own crooked pleasure.

Bucky was silent, concentrating on his work as your body wobbled with each run of the jagged blade against you. Blood coated your skin, the ichor running down your sides and covering the wood below you. It gushed out, and if you didn’t feel light-headed before, you certainly did now.

The only words you heard enter the world were a whispered fire incantation. It was then you smelt your flesh burning, the blade heated to cauterise your wound as it sliced.

If you had any control, you’d be wailing, screaming, doing anything to try and get out. Bucky stole your anguish from you, leaving you like a doll atop the log as your identity was violently stripped from your back.

Mother Nature had gifted you your wings. They were your responsibility. And you failed to protect them.

Yet, in your neutered state, you were apathetic about it.

The impromptu surgery went on for what felt like hours, the slow removal of your body parts done both with intricacy and unrelenting brutality.

Your back felt significantly lighter as your wings fell to the ground, crunching the skeletons below into dust.

It was done.

You would never be the same.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I left some scarring. I want my fairy to be special and bear markings made by her owner,” Bucky said proudly, as if you could respond.

You just stared at the skull below you. God, how you wished to be dead on the ground.

Bucky came around the log and stood in front of you, cupping your face with his palms so you were forced to look at his masked face. “Ready to go home?”

Drool dropped out of your mouth and down your chin, unable to control your functions. Bucky swiped away the moisture. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Bucky snapped his fingers, and you were instantly transported to his home.

It seemed like a small cabin in the middle of a forest, based on what you could see from the dirty window. Every surface was covered with tomes, vials, herbs, and materials needed for spells.

The place had an earthy smell with a mix of floral sweetness.

You sat in the corner of the room, and it took you a moment to realise you sat in a large birdcage. With your body still paralysed, you could only elicit a small whimper at the realisation that you were trapped. A purple field covered the cage, assumedly stopping you from using magic.

Bucky startled you, suddenly materialising with your wings in his arms. Seeing them made your heart drop to the earth's centre. They’d lost their colour, aura, and everything that made them special. Now, they were no more than an ingredient.

You watched as Bucky placed them onto his desk, dusting himself off before turning his attention back to you. “Sorry about the mess. I should have cleaned up before you came over. But I’m sure you won’t mind.”

There was a sense of anticipation as he removed his Oni mask, showing you for the first time his face. You were surprised at how handsome and regular he looked. Sometimes, the evillest were the people we’d never suspect if we passed them on the street. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” He waved the mask before placing it next to your wings. “Since I act like a demon, I might as well look like one, right?”

With a grin, he moved to the bubbling cauldron that was hanging atop a fireplace, scooping up some of the mystery green liquid into a small wooden bowl.

There was intention in every movement as he collected the foul-smelling soup. As he came to your cage, every part of you wanted to scream and run. Yet you didn’t move an inch, sitting upon the cot with your back to the cage wall.

“Here. This will help you heal faster,” Bucky said, as if you had a choice in what you consumed. You felt ill as he got closer with the sloshing broth, your stomach flipping as he raised it to your lips. He had to physically pry your mouth open to pour the soup in, the heat sliding down your slack throat with ease. “That’s my girl, Tinks. Such a good fairy.”

His praises fell on deaf ears as your senses were overtaken by the putrid taste and smell of whatever concoction he had fed you. Almost instantly, you got movement and feeling back.

For the first time in your life, anger overtook you. You’d never felt rage before, but it was all that occupied you now.

With your wings gone, a whole part of you had been taken away. Without your gift of purity, you didn’t have the same emotional control. You felt human.

You jumped up, whacking the bowl from his grip and wrapping your hands around Bucky’s neck, ready to squeeze the life out of him. “I’m going to kill you,” you snarled, entirely unlike your usual self.

Bucky had stolen your innocence and replaced it with darkness.

“Is that so?” Bucky tilted his head, unphased as you squeezed. “Interesting.”

Your anger turned to desperation as Bucky’s form turned to sand in your grip, the course grit slipping through your fingers.

“No!” You screeched, running for the open cage door.

But Bucky was faster, reappearing on the other side of the cage and quickly slamming the wire door in your face.

“No! Let me out! You fucking wench! Hag! Get back here, you old bag and fucking let me go!” You gripped the bars, shaking them desperately as you tried to conjure as much magic as possible. But you had nothing, Bucky’s forcefield holding strong. “I can see why Mother Nature rejected you, warlock. You’re nothing more than an imp, picking on others so you can feel better about your own weakness. You fucking prick.”

There was no chastity left. Your virtue had been lost when your wings were stripped from your being.

“Now, now, that’s not nice. You hurt my feelings.” Bucky frowned, moving back from your enclosure. “Those wings of yours will grow back, and so will your temperament. I’m a very patient man, and I have no issue making your whole existence suffering. But if you know what’s good for you, you will apologise when I return. Wings or not, I expect you to keep the nature of a fairy, Tinks.”

With a flash, Bucky disappeared, leaving you alone in the dank room.

You collapsed to your knees, resolving into a fit of sobs. Without your object of anger there, you were reduced to nothing but sorrow.

Letting out a shuddered breath, you looked over your shoulder. Out from the scarring, popped the smallest amount of new cartilage.

The cycle would begin again.

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[future-of-freedom]

To Trip you should go give Belle a hug. You know, just to make sure she knows she's wanted.

Belle was just sitting on a stool in the machine shop, swinging her legs.

"U-um..."

She turned her head to the side and found Trip, twiddling her fingers.

"Oh, hey, Trip!" Belle got off the stool. "What can I do for you?"

Trip looked around with wobbly lips…

…and threw herself at the tinkerer, wrapping her arms around her.

“I-I just want you t-to know that you’re w-wanted,” Trip said nervously. “N-not just by me, b-but a lot of people!”

And just like the first time, Belle blushed hard, and returned the hug. “Th-thank you…”

Trip smiled over her shoulder.

…wait, is her face heating up?