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brunchable · 7 months ago

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POV: You're sucked into your fanfic - Part One

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Fanfic Writer Reader.

Themes: Comedy - Chaotic Reader. Action scenes.

Summary: Waking up in a forest straight out of her own fanfic was not on Y/N's to-do list, especially not when she’s suddenly the villain about to fight Bucky Barnes. Decked out in an impractical gothic outfit, complete with a corset she can barely breathe in, Y/N realizes she’s written herself into a showdown she’s destined to lose. But instead of following the plot, she’s fangirling while getting her butt kicked by her fictional crush—and making things even worse with every sarcastic comment. Bucky thinks she’s insane. Y/N thinks she’s in heaven. What could possibly go wrong?

A/N: Isn't this anyone's dream? LOL to live your favorite fanfic LMAO.

You yawn as you type away on your laptop, the dim light of your screen the only illumination in the room. It’s late—way too late—and your bed calls to you, but you’re deep in the middle of a new scene for your latest Bucky Barnes fanfic. This one is different. This one is more intense, more dramatic. You smirk at the screen as you write your villainess character, who’s about to have a showdown with none other than Bucky.

“I’ll finish this tomorrow,” you tell yourself, half-heartedly knowing that you won’t. You glance at the clock and wince at the time. Ugh, work in the morning... okay, just five more minutes.

But even as you type that last line, exhaustion takes over, and your eyelids droop heavily. Before you know it, your fingers still on the keyboard, your head hits the pillow, and the world fades to black.

× × × ×

You wake up with a start, a cold breeze biting at your skin. Sitting up abruptly, you blink against the sudden brightness of your surroundings. Trees? The smell of wet earth? Slowly, you stand, your heart racing as you take in the unfamiliar scene around you.

Wait... This looks familiar. Too familiar.

The clearing. The night. The ominous, misty forest that surrounds you. No way...

The scene clicks in your head. This is the exact setting of your fanfic. The one where your villainess has her big moment—where she’s supposed to face Bucky in an epic, final showdown.

“Okay... maybe I’m dreaming. Maybe I’m still asleep,” you mumble to yourself, rubbing your eyes. But the cold wind is sharp, the sounds of the forest too real. You frown and glance down at yourself.

Your stomach drops.

You’re not wearing your usual pajamas. Instead, you’re decked out in a gothic nightmare of an outfit. Long black cloak, intricately laced corset, and leather boots that look cool in theory but are so tight you can barely walk. You tug at the uncomfortable collar of your dress, feeling more like a cosplayer gone wrong than a terrifying villain.

“Oh no. No, no, no...” You spin around, trying to figure out what’s happening. “This can’t be happening. I did not just wake up in my own fanfic!”

But before you can even begin to comprehend your situation, a voice cuts through the trees. A voice you know all too well.

“Give it up, villain. You’re not going to win.”

Your breath hitches, and you freeze. Slowly, you turn around to see none other than Bucky Barnes, in all his intimidating glory, walking out from the shadows, his metal arm gleaming under the moonlight.

Holy crap, he’s real. He’s actually real.

But there’s one problem. He’s looking at you like you’re his enemy.

“Well?” Bucky’s deep voice breaks through your panicked thoughts. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

Your mind goes blank. All those hours spent imagining this very moment, and now that it’s happening, all you can do is stand there, gawking like an idiot.

“I, uh... look, Bucky—” you start, but then it hits you. You’re the villain in this story. The bad guy. He has no idea you’re just a fanfic writer who’s been plopped into this nightmare.

You quickly glance around for an escape route. But there’s nothing except more trees, mist, and darkness. No way out. And then you remember what comes next in the story. The fight scene. A scene you wrote yourself... with the villain—you—losing.

Oh god. I am so screwed.

Trying to think fast, you wave your hands in surrender. “Wait, wait, wait! We don’t have to do this. Can we just, like, talk about this?”

Bucky’s eyes narrow, suspicion clear on his face. He takes a step closer, hand twitching toward his gun. “Nice try. I know your tricks.”

You cringe. Of course he wouldn’t believe you—you wrote him to be suspicious of every word the villain said!

“I’m serious!” you squeak, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. “You don’t want to fight me. I, uh... I surrender! Yeah, I totally surrender.”

But Bucky doesn’t back down. In fact, he steps even closer, and now you can see the lethal determination in his eyes. “Surrender, huh? Sounds like a trap.”

You mentally slap yourself for writing him to be this distrustful. Why did I make him so paranoid?!

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you ramble, desperately searching for a way out. “You’re probably thinking I’m trying to pull a fast one on you, but I swear, I’m not evil. Not really. It’s... complicated.”

Bucky doesn’t look convinced, and honestly, you wouldn’t be either if you were him. He raises his metal arm threateningly, ready to fight, and you know you’re out of time.

In one last-ditch effort, you blurt out, “Wait! I love you!”

That stops him in his tracks. His brow furrows in confusion. “What?”

You slap a hand over your mouth, mortified. Did I just say that out loud?

“Yes! I mean—no! I mean...” You fumble for words, feeling your face flush. “What I meant was, you’re amazing. You’re... everything. I’ve, um, admired you for so long, and I really don’t want to fight you. I’m just... a huge fan?”

Bucky stares at you like you’ve lost your mind. “A fan?”

You nod furiously, praying this works. “Yes! A huge fan. Of your work. Uh, your missions? And, you know, your... metal arm? It’s so shiny and, uh... powerful.”

He stares at you for a long moment, clearly baffled by your bizarre behavior. “This is a trick, isn’t it?”

You groan internally. Of course he’d think that. You wrote him to be impossible to convince!

Meanwhile, Bucky’s stance shifts, preparing for a fight. You realize with growing dread that if you don’t come up with something fast, you’re going to get your butt kicked by your fictional crush.

And it’s all your fault.

× × × ×

Without warning, Bucky lunges forward, and you yelp, instinctively trying to duck, but the heavy corset makes it hard to move.

“Wait! I’m serious! We can talk this out—oof!” You squeak as Bucky’s metal arm knocks you flat on your back.

“Oh my God,” you wheeze, lying on the ground, staring up at the stars. I’m getting my butt kicked by Bucky Barnes. This is the best and worst day of my life.

Before you can even get your bearings, Bucky grabs you by the arm and flips you up like you weigh nothing. You manage to stand, but just barely, wobbling in your ridiculous boots.

“Oh my God, he’s strong,” you whisper in awe, dazed. “This is like, the hottest thing ever—wait, no, focus!”

Bucky, looking at you with complete disbelief, narrows his eyes. “What is wrong with you?”

You try to explain, but then he sweeps your legs out from under you, and down you go again. This time you land face-first in the dirt.

“Hnggh... I deserved that,” you mumble into the ground. “I wrote this. I brought this on myself.”

You roll over, still fangirling, despite the pain. “Wow, even in pain, you’re gorgeous.”

Bucky looms over you, looking more confused than ever. “Are you hitting on me while I’m kicking your ass?”

“Yes,” you wheeze, still on the ground, clutching your ribs. “I regret nothing.”

Bucky sighs heavily, and for a split second, you think you catch a flash of amusement in his eyes. “You’re insane.”

You grin up at him, despite the dirt smeared across your face and the throbbing ache in your back. “I’ve been told that before.”

He shakes his head, clearly still trying to make sense of the situation, but you can tell he’s holding back laughter now. You’ve confused him, at least. That’s something.

“So... are you gonna help me up?” you ask hopefully, extending a hand.

Bucky stares down at you for a long moment, then mutters, “You’re not even a good villain.”

“Don’t remind me.” You groan dramatically. “It’s harder than it looks.”

With a roll of his eyes, he finally relents and pulls you to your feet again—though not without a little extra force that nearly sends you stumbling again.

You clutch your chest, still a bit winded, but can’t help the goofy smile on your face. I just got beat up by Bucky Barnes. And it was glorious.

× × × ×

You’re still catching your breath from being unceremoniously flipped, kicked, and restrained when Bucky wraps his metal arm around your waist and hauls you up against him, keeping a firm grip on you. He pulls out a pair of cuffs—the same cuffs you wrote about, of course—and slaps them onto your wrists.

“W-What are you doing?” you sputter, still in awe at how close you are to him now. You stare at his arm holding you in place, feeling your heart race like a schoolgirl with a crush. “Oh my god, am I being arrested? By Bucky Barnes? This is... this is a dream come true.”

Bucky looks at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Stop talking.”

“No, seriously. Where are you taking me?” you ask, wiggling in his grip but mostly just to make yourself more comfortable because—holy hell, his muscles are everywhere. You’re about to pass out from sheer fangirl euphoria. “Is it to a secret Hydra base? Are you throwing me in the trunk of a car? Wait, is there gonna be an interrogation? Do you have a secret lair? Because if there’s a lair, I’d love a tour.”

He tightens his grip, hoisting you up with one hand as if you’re nothing more than a grocery bag. You flail your legs a bit but quickly stop, realizing how cool this actually is.

“I’m not telling you anything,” Bucky says gruffly, dragging you through the trees.

“Oh! Is this like one of those slow-burn captor-captive situations?” you say, eyes wide with excitement. “Are we going to have a moment of shared vulnerability? Will we bond over our tragic backstories? Because, listen, I wrote an entire chapter about this, and let me tell you, it’s steamy.”

Bucky stops dead in his tracks, clearly regretting every life decision that brought him here. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You grin, too giddy to care about the situation. “Oh, you’re gonna find out. I’m a lot.”

He lets out a long, frustrated sigh and continues dragging you through the forest like you’re a troublesome cat being hauled to the vet. You stumble along behind him, your boots still making it difficult to walk, but you’re too caught up in your own fantasies to care.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you gasp, pretending to be serious for a second. “Are you taking me to the Avengers? Am I about to meet Steve Rogers? Oh my god, if this is a prison transfer situation, I’ll take it. Honestly, throw me in a cell, just tell me Captain America’s on the other side of the bars.”

Bucky groans audibly, muttering under his breath. “You’re literally the worst villain I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, thank you!” You beam, still being pulled along like a rag doll. “I tried to make my villain complex, you know? With layers. You’ll see. There’s more to me than just an evil laugh and a cool outfit. I have depth! Trauma! A tragic backstory, even!”

Bucky finally stops and spins you around, looking you dead in the eyes. “Shut. Up.”

You blink up at him, biting your lip to suppress a fangirl squeal. “Wow, even when you’re angry, you’re hot.”

For a second, you think Bucky might actually lose his patience with you, but instead, he just rolls his eyes and resumes dragging you through the forest.

“You’re taking me to the Avengers, aren’t you? You can tell me! I won’t spoil it for anyone,” you whisper conspiratorially. “I mean, you know, since I’m totally going to escape and wreak havoc... right after I meet everyone and maybe take a group photo.”

Bucky doesn’t dignify that with a response. Instead, he hoists you up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and starts walking faster. Your head bounces a little with each step, but you can’t help but notice how strong he is.

“Is this the part where I pretend to hate being manhandled, or...?”

Another groan from Bucky. He’s definitely considering just leaving you tied to a tree at this point.

You sigh dramatically as you dangle over his shoulder. “You know, I could help you with your characterization. Maybe throw in some emotional depth, give you some really meaningful dialogue in your next big scene. Maybe a nice brooding monologue... You’re into those, right?”

“Where I’m taking you,” Bucky says, his tone clipped, “there won’t be any brooding. Or talking.”

You perk up. “Oh! Silent treatment? Broody captor vibes? I love it.”

You can practically feel the exhaustion radiating off him as he mutters, “I need a vacation.”

With a smirk, you reply, “I’m free this weekend.”

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msomao · 2 months ago

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I did something, and probably I will yapp about how I see them here below ;)

I just think that Shadow would be stubborn with the idea of Metal being capable of changing, not exactly in the "become better/become a good person" but more in the "become an independent person" type of deal. He sometimes thinks he's being delusional, that the signs of Metal being more than just a "machine" are part of his own desire of them being true. Although, Metal would show him that indeed, he is capable of taking his own decisions

and maybe I'm a little biased, thinking more with my headcannons than canon material, but who cares!? lmao, anyway, now I'm with Metal, yk, I have this idea, (heavily based on my fav fanfic), where Metal always "feels" like something is off, when he can't trust his own memory device, or his database. why is that? well, Eggman is constantly erasing his memories, why? because he's getting attached to Shadow, and hence he cannot exactly get rid of him, he can at least take control over his memories and get his senses corrected.

Surely I'll write an AU about it

how Metal slowly will put the pieces of this puzzle, and surely make things *right*

and... what about Shadow? He stopped trying, he still feels something towards Metal, he surely does, but he cannot bear how always he has to start from 0 (Although, sometimes it's like Metal has developed some type of """"muscle memory""", where he would do things that in theory, he doesn't know how to do it, for example, putting on music when he is in Shadow's place (why he's there? idk, I have this headcannon where Shadow would take advantage and when Metal gets really badly injured, he takes him to make repairs, with the hope of finally do something different that will change the usual outcome)

In other words, a painful/confusing loop, where they are making the same mistakes over and over, till they don't, and things change, who knows if it's for good ot not

...

uh, I really like to yap, anyway, love them, they are eating my brain (wait till you see my divorced Sonadow AU with Metal being a step-dad)

#metadow #shadow the hedgehog #metal sonic

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jazeswhbhaven · 1 month ago

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Demon Butler Buffet, Enjoy your stay | April Fools' Event 2025 | React/Recap Spoilers Part 1

Henlo everyone, I'm finally back into my react groove and hopefully nothing else fucking happens with my health (crossing fingers)

So this is going to be just a recap of everything since it's been like a week or so since the break between the story parts and there's an update tonight/morning! The second part will probably be more detailed honestly, so expect very little writing and more screenshot action lol

Summary/Recap!

Basically, we start off the story by looking into Solomon never losing a bet, ever. But this is not the case with MC. They found themselves in a pickle while in Abyssos, losing a bet...and now they've gotta pay up.

Not only do they have to pay up, but they have to in Earth currency?! So MC sends off Ppyong to get 1 millon Won they saved up in their bank account, only to then be told they were gone for so long that their bank account is frozen!

I mean, this would make a lot of sense though, considering that in Minhyeok's side story in main, MC had been gone long enough for him to do the anniversary of visiting MC's parents.

In order to get the money needed, the kings are going to have to make that moneyyyy for MC! Meaning they're going to get a part-time job on Earth, but the question is...how can they?

It is known that they could just teleport there, however this would cause all of humanity to simply crush and go insane. Remember the Cthulu theory if he appears? Sorta the same, basically the Kings can't all be on Earth at the same time or everyone dies. And it also explains why Asmo can visit by himself or that one time when Mammon and his nobles went to Earth for his birthday (y'all remember that little selfie! I would dig for it but phew it would take forever)

And this is where we are introduced to Zepar, who is Zagan's prior mentor and what seems to be close friend or...something more. Now the reason I poke at the the something more, dipping into Zepar and Zagan's dynamic is that Zepar seems to hold some kind of resentment toward his prior disciple. He also comments that Zagan is nearly as strong as he thought he would be using the talisman's and there seems to be something they were supposed to do together (travel Hell together? or further?) and instead Zepar is stuck in Abaddon and Zagan has his freedom. That's all they really bothered to dwell on, so that's all I have to go off of.

In the meantime though, Zepar uses red talismans which are much stronger in magic, but come with a price. Each devil will experience something while on Earth that's not of their character. This will only take effect during the use of the talismans while they are on Earth.

And with that explained, MC and the Kings are transported to Earth, specifically to a Host/Hostess cafe that's throwing a themed Maid/Butler event. This is where we meet the store manager, Lizzy, and later Jihoon who oddly looks like Yoosung from MysMes but he's way more fuckboish lmao.

The store manager explains the role of being a butler to the boys but uh the majority of them don't understand what that means. It appears that only Lucifer and Leviathan are keen on what it means to be one. Also during this time, Satan is doing unhinged shit as per usual that screams cat behavior lol

Mammon is doing pretty well, but he's more channeling his inner "Bimet", Beel is uh himself (other than his pale skintone wow) and while Leviathan is doing well, he's very forgetful, seems to be the affect from the talismans. But also to note, Asmodeus can't get hard, and Belphegor giggles a lot when he's awake. Lucifer seems to be more gentle and nice which is unlike him (though we find out in his recent L card that this isn't an effect of the talisman but his true nature when he's in butler mode) but MC doesn't know that yet. For Satan, his speak is off, for Beel, he's more clumsy and not as hungry, and Mammon? Well I wasn't too certain what his side effect was, he seemed very normal. But also who was killin' it in the Butler department was none other than Luci <3 but with context now from his card, we all know why that is! He was born for it.

Either way, the boys are doing their best during the event to sell the most merch and "win" the most money. During this time we see the customers acting similar to how the fandom probably would if we saw them irl. There's even a thing where they try to take photos of the Kings and can't catch their human forms on camera, but we see...their true forms reflected instead which was a neat detail that I liked. So for the butler outfits for the boys, we see them sprouting the traditional tux with tight slacks to show off their "assets". But a fun little surprise is Levi wearing a maid outfit complete with stockings. I swear he always gets the best stuff. An even bigger surprise though is when Levi lifts his skirt and there's...an animal tail, in the form of a butt plug! Satan does mention that the tails look uncomfortable to deal with and it made me think, ah man he doesn't like butt stuff normally does he? Which is fine, though that means you'd reallllyyy have to convince him to let you peg him. Belphie though seemed eager to put one on (hehehehehehe), and apparently it's Asmo that has supplied this for everyone.

So after this little display and having the customers go around trying to "grab" their tails, the store completely sells out! So now that MC can take a break, they find Jihoon in the changing/break room area by his lonesome and he seems to be sulking about not being the center of attention for the day. Not only that but uh...he starts flirting casually with MC???? This rightfully pisses off MC, because this whole time that was most likely his goal to sneak off with MC and not even work. But Levi and Luci come to their rescue! Poor Lizzy, she actually likes a guy like that.... shame shame.

Speaking of Lizzy, it seems that she has some expenses she needs to pay for and worries about it. She especially mentions that Jihoon fucking borrowed money and hasn't paid it back yet. MC gets angry at him again, and Satan senses this, and asks what's up. After a quick rundown, Satan and the Kings decide to give Lizzy things that are worth a lot of money so she can sell them and get the money she needs for all her expenses!

Now for the Kings and the "winner?" Well...there isn't one. The store manager explained that since they all worked the same hours they all get the same pay. That's all fine and dandy, but it doesn't prove who sold the most! And despite MC's debt being paid off, that's pretty much all that matters rn to them, especially Satan.

And we find out that the nobles followed behind to watch their respective Kings at the cafe and I find that super cute.

And that ends the rough summary of part 1 of this event! You know what time it is....

Screenshots!

Don't yell at the bby (yes I know he's a grown demon man but don't yell at himmmm)

Ooo the ground sinkin', he's so l a r g e ain't he?

hehehehhehehe my OC's hubby/babydaddy is cute

Asmo coaching you for your OF would actually be hilarious. I'd write that.

I swear Leviathan everyday with you

Beel is so cute when he does this honestly. Since I'm short, my friends would do this to me as an affectionate thing :3

The whole gangs hereeeeeeeee

Bimet the scammer right on time tryna collect some coin

Yes Levi because the hate fuck afterward would be n a s t y which is why I'd even bother doing anything like this in front of you in the first place. 💀

LMAO Satan really said "Ain't my problem" and proceeds to be excited until everyone brings up that MC would never forgive him if that happened

No like when are we gonna see the cutie in the middle??? I know he's overly horny as fuck but idkkkkk he seems adorable to me

That's so cute, he considers them friends even though they hate him lmao my poor unfortunate narcissist <3

Okay so the majority of the time Asmo was carrying Belphie and I think that shit was so cute. Like I know Asmo is sweating cum because Belphie's barely clothed body is against him but it's like awh no one else offered to carry him so

Confirmed that he likes to use puppets and what we saw before was just one of his many puppet creations. I wonder if there are other designs...

I'm crying, Belphie really thought MC was in the mood and was willing to strip right in front of everyone. He really just don't give a fuck.

it seems, that there's a lot of history here...and that there's a lot for Zagan and Zepar to come to terms with. Though I would say that Zepar has already accepted the "it is what it is" mantra and Zagan is holding on to a distant memory. I feel sorry for him honestly and Zepar probably had more "life" to him back then. Just like Zagan used to talk more.

damn he didn't have to do him like that

Aye, not too much on Luci now...or we about to box once again Levi

Lizzy! :3 I enjoyed her

knowing the context now of why he's doing this makes it all the better omg 🥺❤❤

MC is cute here. But also, yes me too MC....me too.

This man is gonna have a few more wrinkles after today lmaooo he was stressed out the entire time

Sir. 😒

the storage room would be fine with me

Yeah that thang is thangin on a daily basis 💀💀💀

AND that concludes Part 1 of my React! Part 2 will just be more screenshots, since I pretty much summed up the entire story so far here. See ya over yonder~ (click below to go to the next post! for some reason it didn't show up in the tags...hrm)

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb event #whb screencaps #whb kings #whb spoilers #recap time!#jazewhbreacts🖤

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genericpuff · 1 year ago

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oh boy it's that time again

when rachel posts 'video progress' of her work and we proceed to dissect it like a frog in 9th grade science class

like ok first the caption of "is persephone the chicken and hades the egg" makes no fucking sense except to anyone who overthinks it and goes "wait is that a reference to the popularly-perpetuated version of the myth where persephone went down to the underworld willingly and hades didn't actually exist???" because if it is ima scream lmao

but MORE IMPORTANTLY-

Here's the transcript of what she's saying in the video:

"I think I've always wanted to write Hades' and Persephone's story because obviously I really like them. It's like very much a chicken and egg situation because I think in the beginning I thought that I was going to use a very abstract black and white style, and I realized it wasn't very enticing or fun for me, um... and I started drawing these very like vibrant characters and as I drew them I understood more about the story the more that I explored the art style, um and I guess an example of that is, y'know, Persephone is like a very bright color um, and the Underworld, is a very dark dark blue, and so when she says she really sticks out so it's just environmental uh processes like that that really helped inspire the direction of the story."

(despite her expanding on the "chicken and the egg" bit it still doesn't make sense imo lmao)

But what we're seeing isn't S1 LO, it's actually from S3 of LO:

But um... you notice anything interesting about the screenshot I just showed you?

That literally looks NOTHING like what we see in the final panel. At the VERY least I think this goes to show how overcooked it becomes in post-production, when they add the canvas layer and hypersaturate the shit out of the colors, but even the blending technique just isn't matching up?

A lot of what she's doing in this video also feels very... non-existent, like she's brushing her pen around but very little is happening so it feels more like her just putting down random brush strokes to try and make it seem put-together but really she's just kind of pushing colors around and/or doing nothing. Especially when, again, what she's painting here looks nothing like the final picture (so at best it's a lot of wasted work??)

And knowing what we know about the assistants drawing the characters separately so that Rachel can rearrange them in the final episode layout... I don't wanna call foul play here, but this feels like yet another attempt on Rachel's behalf to make her process seem more involved than it is by simply redrawing a scene for the performative aspect of it all. It's like the "sketches" in the books looking way too 'clean' for the final product and giving the impression that she just sketched over the final panels to make them look pretty enough for print.

I also wanna mention that for some reason she's drawing this on her iPad when she owns a Cintiq. It could be because she was drawing this while abroad in the US for her conventions last fall, but despite clearly being ahead of schedule, she still wound up drawing the final episode the night of-

Oh yeah and btw there are like a million clipping layers for what looks like just a simple drawing of Demeter. And this lines up with our previous theories about her using like 128549021809 layers for literally one character.

And aside from all that her commentary, as always, is very nothingburger, just a bunch of word salad. Like she's literally trying to explain LO's color theory as "well Persephone is bright pink and the Underworld is dark blue so she sticks out! That's all you need to know!"

IDK, I'm not coming to any sort of ironclad conclusion based off this one video, but it does feel like yet another desperate attempt to prove that she does work on LO and doesn't just leave it all to her assistants to do at the last minute. But like... she's kind of screwed in that argument either way, because even if she draws the majority of panels in LO, that just further proves the argument that she's stopped trying.

#lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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koilarist · 10 months ago

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in a bizarre and unprecedented turn of events, i appear to have begun writing in it. well then.

Half tempted to get a little sketchbook and just see what happens with it...

#it looks like a conspiracy theory board in here #but good god it's actually doing me wonders for getting ideas down without getting distracted by the internet and its many lures #this is shocking to me because all my life I would rather type than physically write but uh. well. i'll be damned lmao #Devotio Newsletter

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nomsfaultau · 3 months ago

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hi hello I am currently obsessed with shred your wings to make you ours, so if you want to go on a ramble session about that fic I am sitting attentively and cheering

OKay, so. Well disclaimer that I do not in any way think authors are required to be experts on the subjects they're writing like math physics astronomy whatever like we're not cinama sins in this household and the fear of incorrect facts should not hold people back from beautiful creativity. (personal petpeeve in writers circles)

however I'm autistic and love researching so this is ENRICHMENT FOR ME.

Biology

I cornered a paleontologist/ornithologist (Hereafter Dr. S) to try and get information about the evolutionary history of birds so that the fic would be more accurate. And you will have to forgive me if I am not understanding everything accurately, because that's not my biology specialty! And the convo was a week ago.

Specifically, I was trying to figure out the environmental conditions that could lead to the size of Elytrians we see (although it could very well be that Elytrians are human sized and Avians are just tiny!).

So, I asked about how climate impacts species sizes. Dr. S discussed how in a particular ice age, there was both mammal shrinkage and reptile enlargement in the same area, which is honestly fascinating! But no dice on birds temperature wise. Next I asked about oxygen content, since I know that it had an impact on insects at least, and figured the aerial aspect might be something? IDK again I'm not an ornithologist lmao. We had a fascinating conversation about not yet published findings about fossilized ostrich eggs (so sorry don't have a source). Essentially, there's holes in the eggs that allow for gas exchange with the yolk. So, hypothesis was that the oxygen content in the atmosphere would influence the size of the holes in the ostrich eggs! Except, uh, it kinda didn't. At which point Dr. S, who is QUITE the rambler, finally said that there isn't much crazy variation in bird sizes over evolutionary history (compared to dinosaurs and what not).

(Which threw out my next theory on legumes, because I know that was big for the explosion of diversity and size in mammals post (paper here since I'm just a silly tumblr guy and you should fact check stuff I say, unfortunately can't give the Dr. S source without doxxing myself (for the second time talking about Shred Your Wings) so- uh- homework time?)

At which point I was like aw :( maybe my bird hybrid people (already insanely speculative biology and absurd for earth's evolutionary history) are even less biologically feasible due to their size :(

....And then I looked up the largest bird in history. Maybe not that far outside of theoretical, actually! Remember kids, why waste time talking to a professional when you can just google that crap!

wait no I shouldn't promote that message to my followers I'm a bad influence

Anyyyway. Hehe. Um.

Other stuff I'm thinking about:

The reason they don't have feathers around their mouths is for hygiene.

Researching migration feeding and sleeping habits. Wait sick some birds can sleep half of their brain at a time while still flying?? Also a least part of my explanation for Avians having arms is to carry resources during oceanic migration, but there's also some studies about plummeting calorie requirements that's fascinating

Now the Eleonara's falcon also does migration but that would super duper get in the way of the plot/ending so I've decided to violate that. Because all this research is fun and all but the story comes first y'know?

I don't think Avian or Elytrian are species. Techno makes a comment about the falconiform language barrier, and so I believe the divide is actually along Orders. So, Avians being Passeriformes (most birds tbh, ravens, sparrows, robins, etc) and Elytrians are Falconiformes (falcons). Fairly recent common ancestor, potentially there's another group based on the other two idk.

Lastly. Their forward facing eyes T-T chat I'm cooked. Absolutely no reason for them to have forward facing eyes, ESPECIALLY for an aerial species! I tried to poke in the direction of maybe them evolving in a hella dense jungle like area that would require insanely good depth perception to navigate, but like. I mean parrots don't have it so like. Whah. And it's not even for a narrative reason so it's my cross to bear ig.

Culture

My next big world building question (that honestly is why progress has stalled) is what type of technological and cultural development these guys have.

(As a note the ideas of 'more advanced civilizations' get quick into things like colonialism or racism so I'm trying to avoid that quagmire and be conscious of my status as a sedentary agriculturalist).

Because Avians are migratory, I think that would have a big influence on things like, having agriculture, or certain types of technologies that are based on permanent settlements. But only partially, I picture them as having two homes, one north and one south, that they split between. Techno at least seems to be from a species that migrates solo, but I think other Avians do group migrations. Because part of it is instincts, magnetism, constellations, etc leading them back to specific breeding grounds, I imagine this has created a very funky kingdom/settlement arrangement, where things like borders and territory are REALLY hard to maintain what with everyone moving twice a year. Who knows? Imagine coming home after 6 months to figure out the neighbors razed your house before leaving to annex it. I'm imagining less of monarchy or democracy systems, and more like clans. Of course not all Avians migrate, which could lead to those stationary species having lots of trust/power due to taking care of everything while everyone else is gone....OR could be there are biannual wars as those groups take over while everyone is gone, take all their stuff, and then deal with hoards of angry Avians in a couple months time!

Trying to maintain a proper kingdom wouldn't work, because a large control mechanism is inhibiting im/emigration. If someone hate their ruler, they can just pick a new place to land when they migrate next spring/fall. So factions are constantly shifting around, and places change a lot every year depending on who got there first and how much fuss they intend to kick up about staying there. Avians move a lot and aren't really tied down to a particular home. There's a constant flux to these societies. Some Avians cope by forming close knit groups, and get entire towns migrating together, but others bounce from group to group.

I'm super certain wars are happening. But we also don't see Techno as being notably armed while migrating -which: this is Techno! If there are weapons he'd have all of them! Which might be oversight on my part tbh, but also I think in that case the Elytrian kill strat explains why: usually, Avians are either immediately killed, or can escape. So, not much use for a weapon there, especially against someone faster and stronger than you. And since Avians are trying to max out carrying food during migration, I imagine weapons aren't carried on them because every gram counts when you're flying across the ocean. So, weapons are for fighting Avians, running for your life is for fighting Elytrians. (Could've been a few centuries arm race between Avian weapons and Elytrian armor, but, speculation).

Most Avians are on the herbivore/omnivore spectrum, and since the migration means they have two growing seasons but also giant periods of time where areas are abandoned. So while I do picture them having farming, I think it's very different from human styles. Much much much less intensive, long fallow periods, potentially more diversity since you can also trade with an Avian with a different diet! Scavenging/hunting is still very large in the culture, because you WILL need it during migration at the very least, so you better not get rusty or you'll die! Also some people need bugs/fish/whatever in their diets. I think most of their clothing is made from cotton they've grown, and they get crazy dyes from all over the globe.

I also think that the ability to fly would vastly structure how things like towns are built because that's all about proximity, but the sheer distance anyone can cover means that I think they're less concentrated.....by species. Niche partitioning baby! And also some birds are very territorial compared to others who form massive flocks. So, big difference there again.

I gotta imagine their sense of ownership looks very different to ours too.

AS for Elytrians:

Imma focus on Phil's species that don't migrate cause I like the contrast! They are more firmly in one place for most of the year. They don't grow crops cause, well, carnivores. I can see an amount of animal husbandry for them though, which works for a mildly nomadic species since birds do tend to drift around even if not migrating. I think circling their herd overhead would also give ample opportunity for hunting, since blatantly Phil is still a predator. Particularly for his species, they eat insects and fish and what not most times of the year, but their chick season lines up with when a bunch of Avians migrate through because they make a fantastic source of protein.

Comparatively, Elytrians are far more invested in their one area than Avians are, who migrate frequently and mingle a lot. So I picture Elytrians having more complex architecture, and potentially inventions since you're not abandoning a project every half year to potentially never come back to again. Which honestly suits the Philza/Techno building philosophy divide....

Since writing systems were developed for counting agriculture stuff, I kinda see these guys inventing it and arithmetic as a way of marking how big their herds are, branding them to prevent thefts, stuff like that. Probably have things like literature being big hits in the Elytrian communities, especially since distribution is so easy. Passarines being more song birds I think have oral story telling traditions instead.

Now Elytrians mostly just use natural weapons for hunting evidentially since- I mean- can you throw a spear faster than a 200mph falcon? If it works it works! Their aerial combat with each other has got to be WICKED though.

As for general technologies: Clothing, basic tools, dying, stone/wood work, fire. I cannot for the life of me picture either Order working in mines but Techno has clearly forged pieces of copper/gold/metal worked into his clothing so I imagine it's happening. Nothing along the lines of industry. If that were to happen I think Elytrians are more likely, buuuut then they'd have to fly in all that smog so potentially that wouldn't go far.

uh. Good enough ramble session?? I hope? This certainly helped get my thoughts in order to continue working!

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astro-nomaly · 6 months ago

Text

Sword and Shield (greenflower)

jfc i feel insane. i had to get this au out of my head so i wrote this first draft thing in two days anyways this is probably all i'll write at least for a while bc i don't have an actual set storyline and i really need to write tkal lmao. this is technically 2 chapters but whatever they made sense together

anyways @morroodle this is for you dude and uh sorry if this crashes anyone's browser. no cw for this. Edit 3/2/25 @highbookwormofthecentury here you go man have at it

Brad Tudabone is 17 years old – almost 18 (if ‘in seven months’ counts as ‘almost’) - and is currently climbing the tallest mountain in Ninjago.

Now, the Realm has its fair share of mountains. The Golden Peaks of the West (the existence of which is not confirmed) in the Endless Sea are supposed to be taller than the sea is deep. Less impressively, the Shintaro Mountain range in the Southern Province stretches dozens of miles high, and the Caves of Despair are the most treacherous peaks in the world. But Brad is conquering something a little more difficult - the Mountains of Impossible Height.

Honestly, the name was an exaggeration. It was, at best, the Mountains of Incredibly Dangerous Do Not Attempt for Fear of Death. Brad had only almost died, like, five times. And his arm was probably fractured, but whatever.

He huddled against the cave wall, wincing as the sharp edges dug into the thin fabric of his shirt. Dammit, he should’ve brought a coat. He scowled at his fraying boots, one cold toe poking through. Should’ve brought better boots, too. Who knew climbing the world’s tallest mountain was such hard work?

Brad was taking shelter in a small cave carved into the side of the Mountain of Impossible Height, which was a mouthful, waiting for the rain to pass. This high up, a light shower could kill him. He was already freezing.

Brad shuffled a little closer to the small fire he had going, huffing into his hands. Next time, he would bring gloves that covered his fingers. Man, fingerless gloves looked so cool though! Though, it’s not like anyone else he knew wore them.

To pass the time as he warmed up, Brad pulled an ancient scroll from his bag of assorted supplies, most of which he needed more of. Climbing mountains sucked.

The scroll was fraying, yellow and browning around the edges. The thing was only a few decades old, but hadn’t been preserved well. Brad had found it only a month or two ago while poking around a half-destroyed museum, courtesy of the Oni army.

Ugh. Brad hated the Oni. They’d shown up, what, fifty years ago? So far, the army had been kept at bay by the holders of the Golden Weapons - weapons people didn’t know even existed - and Wu, the son of the First Spinjitzu Master – supposedly. No one knew if the god was real or not, but the dragon demigod of creation pointed to ‘yes’. The army had come out of a strange portal from the First Realm, a place no one was sure even existed before the arrival of the four-armed demons. They were led by yet another legendary figure; Garmadon, the Oni demigod of destruction and the first son of the FSM.

There was a running theme here. Fifty years ago, several ancient legends were confirmed to be true as magic and elements were thrust into their realm. So, Brad felt confident about this legend as well.

The Sword of Sanctuary. The scroll Brad scavenged from the museum rubble illustrated a lustrous golden sword surrounded by elegant text. The sword was, supposedly, the legendary weapon of the FSM himself, and super powerful to boot.

It made sense, didn’t it? If demigods of creation and destruction were real, and other realms were real, and the elemental Golden Weapons then didn’t it stand to reason that the guy who made those weapons and fathered those demigods existed? If the FSM was real, then the sword was too, and that meant it could be useful.

Everyone Brad reported his theory to – his overworked mom, his friends, the cops – laughed in his face. After fifty years of war that went almost nowhere, no matter how many dragons showed up to help, people were tired and low on hope. Every day the Oni army got closer to capturing the capital city, and if they did, they’d have easy access to the other four provinces. People needed practical solutions, not fairytales.

But Brad knew that this wasn’t a fairytale. The sword was real, he just knew it. Was it a little presumptuous to assume that he could use it? Maybe. Brad was a normal guy – he played basketball, he gardened, and he was self-taught in using any kind of weapon. He didn’t know a single martial arts form, and his go-to for winning fights was the kick the other guy in the crotch and run. (Which, by the way, totally worked.) But even if Brad himself couldn’t use the sword, couldn’t someone else? One of the elemental masters, or even Wu? It didn’t matter who had the sword - if Brad found it, he could find someone to use it and win the fight.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want the sword, though. Brad hated feeling so useless all the time. His mom worked day and night to keep their apartment and put food on the table, half of which Brad grew in their own house. All his friends were either enlisted or contributing to society somehow. But Brad... didn’t really want to be in the army. Sure, fighting demons sounded cool, but he wanted adventure, not barracks and boot camp.

If Brad found the Sword of Sanctuary, not only could the humans win the war, but Brad would be a hero.

Besides, how cool would a magic sword be? Brad’s thinking lasers.

He traced the thin letters around the illustration. He should, if the scroll isn’t lying to him, find some sort of temple at the top of the mountain, and the sword inside. Just like the last few days on this mountain, the scroll strengthened his resolve. He wasn’t just doing it for the adventure – though, if Ninjago weren’t in such dire straits, he would probably still do this – he was also doing it for Ninjago. For his mom, for Gene, who worked all the time trying to develop better technologies, and for all the citizens of Ninjago City who wanted just one good day.

He tucked the scroll back into his bag, careful to make sure it wouldn’t crease or tear, and settled on his side. The rain wasn’t letting up any time soon. Might as well sleep.

Brad dreams of Green. Not green, like the color, but Green. It’s life, it’s beauty, it’s the forest floor dappled in sunlight and the tall field grass swaying in a gentle breeze. It’s the shine of a bright grin and the adrenaline of a race. The Green is everywhere, all-consuming and shining like a star. Sheer gold peeks through the cracks, brighter than the sun itself.

It’s crying.

“Let me out,” the Green and Gold begs. The words don’t exist. They’re a compilation of feelings, hopes and dreams and everything else the universe can’t quantify. It’s like Brad has been granted a window into the soul of the realm itself, only to find that it was looking back.

The words come in a melody, sweet and bright and lulling him to an even deeper sleep despite the sheer desperation leaking through.

“LET ME OUT!” The Green and Gold screams, but Brad can only dip further into sleep.

For the rest of the night, he dreams of darkness.

Brad hates mountains. He’s been on this damned mountain for five days, ran out of food two days and has been random fruit since, and has no idea where he is. He briefly entertains the thought of dying up here before shaking it from his mind. He knows he’s getting closer – this mountain can’t get too much taller, can it?

He shivers, clutching his arms as he stalks up the natural pathway. It’s overgrown and treacherous, but he’s lucky nonetheless that a path exists at all. It only supports his mission – at some point, people were here.

“’Course, they probably had coats,” he muttered. He’s been talking to himself lately, which isn’t ideal, but whatever.

He cut through a particularly nasty bramble patch in his way with his katana. It was an old, chipped thing, supposedly belonging to his father at some point. He didn’t have any attachment to the guy; he died before Brad was born. Still, a sword was a sword.

Not as cool as the Sword of Sanctuary, though.

Surprisingly, though, today seems to be a good day for Brad. For the past five days, the mountain had only gotten more and more treacherous, trying its best to kill him at every turn. He’s had to dodge wolves, evil birds, navigate horrendously narrow pathways and climb vertical cliff faces. Nothing so far has been easy – except now. The path levels out, the jagged rocks become smooth-

Water.

Brad laughs in disbelief. There’s a river! Oh, he’s missed water. He bends at the bank, scooping water in his mouth. It’s cold as it slides down his throat, and he drinks greedily.

He wipes his mouth, sated, and takes another second to look around. The mountain is starting to level out, and greenery fills the area. The trees are lusher than they have any right to be, bearing fruit that definitely isn’t in season. It’s warmer now, too, which is weird so high up. The ground is crawling with bright green vines, flowering in shades of unnatural gold.

“...huh,” he says. The Mountain of Impossible Height has been inhospitable to a fault so far. Why is it suddenly so nice? A refreshing river, fruit-bearing trees, smooth pathways?

“Either something is horrifically wrong or terrifically right,” Brad said, adjusting the strap of his bag as he stood. He followed the path, holding his katana cautiously. But nothing came out at him. Birds literally sang in the treetops, a few does bound through the increasingly thick trees, hell, a butterfly literally landed on his nose at one point. It was as if he’d crossed a threshold.

Brad soon came to an actual pathway, made up of cobblestone overgrown with moss. He followed the winding road, growing more and more excited as lamps began to dress the grass along the path.

Then- a monastery.

Brad gaped at the sight. A large red Torii gate stood before him, and further down the path, a grand monastery. It was gated by a tall solid stone fence, overgrown with flowering vines and moss. Brad whooped, running along the path until he reached the entrance, throwing the double doors open with a laugh.

He came into a courtyard with a golden dragon statue in the middle. If he wasn’t sure of this place before, he was now. This had to be it. The home of the Sword of Sanctuary.

He stepped forward carefully, looking around the courtyard. It was wholly abandoned and overgrown in greenery. It was beautiful, yes, but eerie as well. Like a school at midnight, or a graveyard at night. Otherworldly.

“Hello?” He called, just to be safe. He didn’t want to upset a possible deity or something.

Nothing. He shrugged and poked around on the wrap-around porch. He slid open the doors inside and recoiled at the smell of dust. Yeah, this place hadn’t been touched for a while.

He stepped inside, feeling as though he’d come into another realm entirely. Yeah, this had ‘school at midnight’ vibes. The halls were dark, lit only by the fading sunlight that shown through the aged walls and grimy windows. Every step he took made the floorboards creak and groan.

He followed the hall, humming nervously. He poked his head in every door he came across but just found abandoned bedrooms and bathrooms. There was a large kitchen, a couch and TV – weird – and a small armory. He made his way around the entire monastery, and didn’t find anything of note.

He sighed, flopping down on the couch. Dust rose up around him, settling on the disturbed surface.

“Think, Tudabone,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, pulled back by a red bandana. There had to be something here that would lead him to the sword.

“A basement!” He exclaimed, smacking his forehead. Of course! Who would leave a mega-powerful legendary sword laying around for anyone to nab? There had to be a hidden room or basement or-

“Or not,” he said, staring at the ceiling. Outside, he’d made note of the way the roof accommodated what seemed to be two extra rooms stacked on each other above the entrance doors, featuring round windows.

He vaguely recalled a faint light coming from the very top window, what he’d assumed to be sunlight.

Well, he’s looked everywhere else.

Brad quickly ran back outside, looking up at the extra two stories, rising into a tower. The sun was going down now, but the golden light remained in the uppermost window. He grinned and looked for a way to get up to it. The stone around the double gates was crumbling, revealing convenient footholds.

He crossed the courtyard, hauling himself up the wall until he stood on the narrow shingles, balancing carefully. He slowly put one foot in front of the other, making his way over to the wider part of the roof. When he did, he scrambled over the roof to the second story, holding the red column that supported the roof.

Brad stretched on his toes, trying to grasp the edge of the second story’s slanted roof. He was a tall guy, but damn! When he finally got his fingers over the edge, he jumped the extra few inches to grab on with his other hand. Brad breathed heavily, swaying lightly from the roof. He grunted as he pulled himself up, using the shingles as leverage until he could awkwardly kneel on the second story roof. The third story was small, and the window was too grimy to see through. But up close, he could definitely tell that the golden light was emitting from this room.

He fumbled with the round window, searching for a latch. The latch was on the inside, but a little jiggling got the run-down window to slowly creak open. Brad tumbled through, landing on his knees and cutting up his palm with splinters. He hissed, drawing his hand to his chest.

Inside the room, he felt warmth as golden light bathed his body. He looked up just for his breath to catch in his throat with a gasp.

The Sword of Sanctuary.

Brad didn’t need to reference the scroll to know that this was the sword. It gleamed in the sunset, emitting a soft golden light from its spotless blade. The blade seemed to be painted with every color of the waning and rising sun, thrumming with light. Warmth emanated from it, bathing the room in honey. The hilt curved inward elegantly, and in the middle rested a magnificent green gem. Brad couldn’t tell if it was emerald – it seemed too ethereal to come from the earth.

The sword was held downward by a statue. The statue was a simple androgynous person with intricately carved feathered wings draping their body like a chiton, and a crown resting upon their brow. Otherwise, they were bare. Their eyes were closed, and their expression seemed to leak with sadness as they clutched the sword by the hilt.

Brad stepped forward, enraptured by the sight of the sword. The green gem, originally inactive, pulsed and light up with light like it had sensed him. Brad stopped, holding his breath. The gem simply continued to glow.

“Right, right,” Brad whispered, strangely short of breath, “watch out for boobytraps.” He looked around for tripwires or plates but found nothing. The walls were decorated with woven tapestries of the Golden Weapons, and behind the statue on either side were an Oni and a dragon. Otherwise, the room was empty.

Okay. No boobytraps – maybe it was a test of character? He’d seen books like that.

“Hey... sword,” he said, feeling a little dumb, “I’m not going to use you for, like, evil. I’m here to save people, so please don’t kill me.”

He left his katana and satchel on the floor, slowly walking toward the statue. The green gem, somehow demanding more attention than the ethereal blade, thrummed in time with his footsteps, glowing brighter as he got closer. He hoped that wasn’t a bad sign.

Brad hesitated, reaching for the sword. His hand curled, hesitant, before he used both hands to grab the sword by the curling hilt. The second he laid hands on it, the sword lit up even brighter, shining brighter than the sun.

Brad shut his eyes against the onslaught of light, grunting, but didn’t let go. The sword was hot, now, but it wasn’t painful. It was like a melty cookie, or a space heater – warm, comforting, soft.

He squinted, and tugged. The statue’s hands held the sword tightly. Brad braced his feet, trying to adjust for more leverage. “Come on,” he said, tugging again. “Please,” he whispered, “I need you.”

With each increasingly hard tug, the sword somehow became brighter and brighter. It was audibly humming now, filling the air with a strangely familiar melody. The smell of flowers filled the air, wafting in the dusty room. Wind ruffled the tapestries as Brad pulled at the sword harder and harder.

He grit his teeth, tightened his hold, and pulled as hard as he possibly could.

The stone hands around the sword cracked and fell, releasing the sword. With one final burst of light, the sword fell forward, and Brad toppled from the momentum of his pull.

He stumbled back, breathing heavily, as the sword dimmed, slowly ceasing the thrumming and humming. The wind died down, and the scent of flowers settled with the dust.

Brad stared down at the sword, its blade gleaming like new, breathless. He laughed, little bursts falling from his mouth. “I did it,” he whispered, disbelieving, “I did it! I got the sword!”

The winged statue crumbled to pieces. Brad flinched, jumping back, as the stone fell away in chunks. “Ooh,” he winced, “that’s... that’s not a great sign.”

He waited for something else to happen, but nothing did.

“...huh. Okay." He looked down at the sword. “You're not going to disintegrate me, right? We’re chill?” The sword did not respond.

He grinned, readjusting his grip to hold the actual handle. He noticed, belatedly, that the pommel is a second, smaller green gem encased in gold. He holds the sword up high, tilting it back and forth to catch the fading light.

“Heh,” he laughs, swinging it in a slow arc through the air. He hears an audible swish, and laughs again. He feels so cool! Him, regular old Brad Tudabone, wielding the legendary Sword of Sanctuary with ease! He even feels stronger for it, like he could sprint a hundred miles or punch straight through a mountain. “This is so cool,” he says, cutting another arc through the air. He twirls the sword, taking it the way the light creates a kaleidoscope.

Brad wonders what the sword can really do. Does it shoot lasers? Is it telekinetic, somehow? Or- ooh, he saw an anime where the sword duplicated itself once, that would epic. He traces the blade reverently, imagining everything the sword could possibly accomplish against the Oni. He notices soft green vines, thin and fragile, curling up from the golden hilt against the sunset blade. He smiles.

“I bet someone was real lucky to have this,” he thinks aloud, “you’re going to help so many people, y’know. Ugh, I wish you could talk. I want to know everything.”

As if he’s said some kind of code word, the blade begins to shudder. Brad makes a startled noise, holding the sword at arm's length. The green gem begins to glow brighter than ever, thrumming violently. The blade itself warps, the previously soft hues becoming eye-scorching shades of burning violets and yellows. Brad feels nauseous just looking at it, but he can’t seem to let go.

“No, no, no-” he gasps, arms shaking from the strain as the sword grows more violent by the second, “please, stop, no, no, no-” he begs, but the sword isn’t listening anymore. It’s gone from elegant and soft to nauseating as colors blend into each other. The hilt itself begins to warp, curling inward as the metal melts into itself. Glowing cracks emanate from the green gem as bright, scorching cracks appear in the sword. Brad gasps, frantically shaking the sword as if he can make it stop.

Then light like a flashbang overtakes the entire room, blinding Brad, and he falls on his butt.

Brad comes to slowly, still blinking rainbow spots out of his eyes. He’s pinned to the floor by something on his stomach and legs, and quickly realizes that the weight is moving. He rubs his eyes, propping his upper half up.

There is a person on his lap.

Brad gapes, once again speechless. By now, the moon is up, framing the person in a halo of cold light that only accentuates the sheer warmth leaking off of them. They have long golden hair that curls down to their shoulders, fluffy and soft and shining. A light gold and green diadem rests on their head, secured in their thick hair. They’re dressed in a white, sleeveless sort of shirt, ruffled and flowing at the end. The top folds over their shoulders, lined in green and tiny little emerald gemstones. Their legs are covered by a long white cloth that’s secured by another silky material with a gold chain. Their legs are otherwise bare and freckled. Their skin is a soft tan, golden in the moonlight.

They’re really, really cute. And they’re on Brad’s lap.

Okay Tudabone, don’t mess this up.

The person groans softly, face twitching. Their eyelashes are as golden as their hair, and underneath their eyes are soft golden markings, curly and elegant. He can respect the color scheme.

Brad watches as their eyes flutter open, confused and dazed. Their irises are a beautiful emerald green, shining in every shade Brad can think of. Their pupils are shaped like miniature twinkling stars, again golden. Golden pupils – strange. As they slowly adjust, making confused noises, their pointed ears twitch rapidly.

That’s really cute, Brad thinks, face hot.

They seem to realize that they’re sitting on Brad, and stare up at him with giant green doe eyes. Brad’s face gets even hotter the longer they make eye contact.

“...hi,” they whisper softly. Their voice is oddly familiar, like a melody he’s heard before.

He swallows thickly. “Hi,” he responds softly, not willing to break the strange spell over the room.

The blonde looks around, and they don’t seem to recognize their surroundings. “Wh- who- where-” they mutter, and Brad starts to get concerned. He holds them by the arms gently, trying to corral them up off of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks. The person nods vaguely, slowly wobbling to their feet. Brad notices that their feet are bare with a grimace. They could easily cut their skin on splinters.

They stare down at their own freckled hands, inspecting their skin. Now that Brad’s had a few seconds to get his bearings, he’s getting really freaked out. Ten seconds ago, he was holding the Sword of Sanctuary when it suddenly began warping and glowing. Now there’s a blonde person dressed in oddly ancient-looking clothes, acting as if they've never seen their own hands before.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks again, because he might be freaked out, but this person is obviously not okay. They hum, twisting around to look at him with those giant green eyes. They’re practically glowing in the moonlight.

“Where are we?" They ask. Brad blinks, surprised.

“The- the Mountain of Impossible Height. Seriously, are you feeling alright? You seem confused.”

They touch their forehead, eyes shutting like they’ve encountered a sudden headache. It draws Brad’s attention to the strange golden tattoo imprinted on their forehead like a little tiara.

“How- who are you?” They demand.

“Brad,” he answers gently. “Look, I don’t mean to push, but twenty seconds ago I was holding a magic sword. Now you’re here. Where did you come from?”

“A sword?” They’re suddenly staring at him with intensity. “What do you know about the sword?”

Brad holds his hands up, trying to calm them. “Hey, I just found it here. It freaked out and boom, here you are. I’m just as confused as you. Here, look.” Brad scooped his bag off the floor, brandishing the worn scroll to the stranger. “Look, this is what I was looking for.”

They snatch the scroll, eyes raking over it. “...does anyone else know about this?”

“No, no one else believed me. Why? Really, you just came out of no... where...” Brad trails off slowly. The sword was golden, inlaid with green gemstones that seemed to come from the stars themselves.

This person speaks with a melodious voice, just as soft and ethereal as the sword. They’re dressed in white, yes, but marked with golden tattoos. Their eyes are such a pure, glittering green that Brad can’t stand to look at them for too long.

His eyes inadvertently lock onto their chest. Two sparkling green gemstones are imbedded in their skin, softly thrumming.

“You’re the sword,” he says dumbly.

They stiffen, eyes wild like a deer in headlights. The two stare at one another, frozen. The blonde – the Sword of Sanctuary who is a person – goes from a terrified stare to a glare. “What do you know about this?” They demand, waving the scroll at Brad. “Why did you come looking for me?”

“I just found it!” Brad defended, “I was looking for the sword- for you because you’re supposed to be really powerful! Look, you belonged to the First Master, right?”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” they snarled. Brad nodded.

“Okay, okay. But still, you’re all about justice and whatnot, right? Look, there’s this huge Oni army, and they’re hurting people. I came looking for you because you were supposed to help.”

“Oni army?” They ask, their gaze intense.

Brad nodded. “Yeah, and they’re close to taking over Ninjago City. Can’t you do anything?”

They hum, tapping the parchment. “How long has it been?”

“What?”

“How long has the army been in Ninjago?”

“Oh,” Brad hummed, “about... fifty years, give or take. It’s been a while.”

Their eyes grow huge, pupils shrinking. “Fifty years?!” They cry, their harsh grip creasing the scroll. Brad nodded, confused. They clutch at their hair, breaths suddenly coming in sharp gasps. “It’s been fifty years?!” They whisper to themself.

Brad steps forward, but they recoil as if he’d threatened them with a knife. “Don’t touch me!” They shriek. Brad freezes as they shake in place. Tears begin to grow in their eyes, and their shoulders fall as their face crumples.

“Fifty years...” they mumble, holding their face in their hand.

“Have... have you been in that sword this entire time?” Brad asks incredulously. “Why?”

They shake their head. “I didn’t have a choice,” they mumble miserably, shoulders shaking.

Brad makes an affronted noise. “Somebody did that to you? Why?! Did you do something evil?”

“No, I’m not evil!”

“Then I’ll punch them in the face,” Brad decided, punching his fist into his palm and looking around like the culprit would suddenly appear.

They let out a startled laugh through tears. “Y-you definitely can’t do that,” they say, wiping their eyes. Brad scoffs.

“Yeah? Why not?”

“He’d probably kill you,” they mutter. Their expression crumbles all over again, misery etching their face. “Fifty years...” they mumble, sniffling. “And nobody came for me. Not my uncle... not my brothers and sister... nobody except you.”

Brad grimaced. “...I do my best?”

They make a sound between a laugh and a sob. “I-I’m sorry. Brad, right? You probably want an explanation.”

He shakes his head, reaching out tentatively. When they don’t freak out again, he rests his hand on their arm. “It’s okay,” he says, “you’re upset. You don’t have to explain anything. Actually, I can just fuck off if I’m stressing you out-”

They shake their head, wiping away any lingering tears. “It’s okay. You came all this way.”

“Well... okay,” Brad pulls them to the floor so they can sit down. He lets go of their arm once he’s sure they’re not going to topple over. “So, how are you a sword? Or, I guess, how is a sword a person. Which came first, the person or the sword?”

They shake their head, mixed between amusement and that ever-present misery. “It’s not like that,” they say, “I wasn’t always a sword. I used to be a person.”

“Oh,” Brad says, “so someone turned you into a sword. But if the sword belonged to that Spinjitzu guy, shouldn’t you be... older?”

“Nice to know I look young,” they joke. “But yeah, I’m only sixteen. I wasn’t turned into a sword so much as I was fused with it. Like a curse, kind of.”

Brad nodded. So, this person, whoever they were, was fused with the FSM’s sword? Why the hell would anyone do that just to leave them in some dusty monastery? “Well, if you’re a person first, what’s your name?” Brad asks, tired of not knowing. They blink, surprised, like they hadn’t conceived that Brad would care to ask for a name.

“...Lloyd Garmadon.”

Brad gaped. “Garmadon? As in Emperor Garmadon?!”

Lloyd made a face. “Is that what he’s calling himself? Ugh, my dad is cringy. Yes, I’m the son of Garmadon. He’s... actually the one that fused me with the sword.”

“His own son? That’s- really fucked up,” Brad didn’t even know how to react. Who does that to their own kid? Was it some sort of twisted immortal being punishment? What could Lloyd have possibly done?

Lloyd drew his knees up to his chest, resting his head in the soft white fabric of his tunic. “It’s complicated,” he mumbled, picking at the fine golden threads lining his clothes. “My dad was banished to the First Realm when I was four after he tried to steal the Golden Weapons. I grew up with my uncle and his students, the elemental masters. I became the Green Ninja when I was fourteen, and Garmadon returned when I was sixteen.”

“You were a ninja? What’s your element?” Brad leaned forward.

Lloyd smiled wistfully. “The Green element.”

“What... what is that.”

He laughed, and Brad blushed at the sound. “I can’t explain it to you. The words don’t exist in a language mortals can comprehend. The closest thing is... energy. The energy within everything.”

“Wow,” Brad breathed, “it must’ve been epic.”

“It was,” Lloyd agreed, “it was incredible.”

Brad hummed, picking at the floor. “If you were so powerful, though, how did Garmadon... swordify? Is that the term? How’d he swordify you?”

Lloyd’s face spasmed in a mix of embarrassment and regret. “It was my fault,” he mumbled, eyes downcast, “Uncle Wu didn’t want me to fight him. He wanted me kept far away from Garmadon. But after months of no progress, I... I confronted him. I thought I could get him to listen. Instead, he put me in a sword.”

“But... how?”

“I was stupid,” Lloyd said, “I refused to fight him. I let myself get tricked, and he... it doesn’t matter,” Lloyd fiercely wiped at his face, erasing any sign of tears before they could appear. “M-my uncle saved me, that’s the point. He stole me back, and changed the curse. Uncle Wu made sure that nobody could use the Green Element, and so long as I’m here, I have free will.”

Brad’s face screwed up, confused. “Free will? What does that mean?”

Lloyd’s expression spasmed again, and he stared at the floor, eyebrows furrowed. “I- okay. My father turned me into a sword to use my element. When he did, he stripped away my free will. Basically, whoever picks me up as a sword becomes my wielder, and they control whether I’m human. I physically can’t disobey them.”

Brad struggled to wrap his head around it. “Like... Ella Enchanted?”

“Excuse me?”

“That movie! The girl has to obey everyone, and can’t say no. Like, the stepsisters-”

Lloyd let out a dry laugh, sniffling. “Actually, yes. Except only my wielder controls me, and they turn me into a sword. I can’t switch by myself.”

Brad snapped his fingers, “hey, doesn’t that mean that your uncle was your last wielder? Why’d he leave you like this? What a dick.”

Lloyd shook with laughter. “Good question. Maybe he wanted to protect me, or make sure I didn’t run away again. Not that I could. If I get too far away from a wielder, I just turn back into a sword.”

“Speaking from experience?”

Lloyd bit his lip and nodded. Brad scoffed. “I’m going to punch Garmadon in the face.”

“Good luck with that,” Lloyd said, smoothing out the creases in his tunic. “I, for one, would love to punch my father.”

Lloyd’s words gave Brad a sudden idea, and he shot to his feet, pacing back and forth. Lloyd watched him from the floor, somewhat wary, but Brad was too caught up in his head.

“That’s it,” he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair, “wait, that’s it!”

“What is? Punching Garmadon? I’m all for it, but-”

“No- well, yes, but no,” Brad turned back to Lloyd, who’s head was tilted to the side in confusion. Brad blushed briefly at the sight, before shaking it away. “Lloyd, I’m your new wielder, right? I picked you up, I think I made you human-”

“It doesn’t work in here,” Lloyd snapped defensively, crossing his arms over himself protectively. “You can’t order me around in the monastery, and I’ll kick your ass if you try.”

“No!” Brad waved his hands, “No, I wouldn’t do that! I mean, if I’m your wielder, and someone can only control you if they pick you up as a sword, what if I just never turn you into a sword? Loophole!”

“For what?” Lloyd asked, exasperated. Brad grinned.

“If no one – especially Garmadon – can ever steal you, then you’re free to use your element without anyone controlling you! I get that you can’t get too far away from me – so we’ll stick together. I’ll take you to Ninjago City, and you’ll kick Garmadon’s ass with your epic element! I can cheer you on in the background, it’ll be great!”

Lloyd’s eyes grew big as his face went straight back to miserable. “I- I can’t.” He hugged his legs to his chest, looking at anything but Brad as if he was ashamed. Brad deflated, staring down at him.

“But... why? You’re a ninja, aren’t you? Isn’t fighting evil emperors your whole thing?”

“No, I can’t use my element,” Lloyd corrected in a small voice. “My element was sealed away in the sword. And since Uncle Wu made it so that nobody could use my element, that means that the Green Element is gone. Nobody, not even me, can use it anymore. I can’t even do Spinjitzu.”

Brad’s shoulders fell as his excitement flew out of him. “...oh. Well, that sucks.”

Brad sat back down across from Lloyd, who was curled into himself as if he could hide in the white swathes of clothing. Brad felt kind of silly, now. Like, no duh! Why would an evil warlord leave his prisoner’s power unchained?

Lloyd sniffled. “I’m sorry, Brad,” he said quietly. “I wish I could help. But I- I can’t leave and let people use me. I can’t just give up my body so people can swing me around and kill people with me. I just...”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Brad said, scooting closer to Lloyd. He laid a hand on Lloyd’s freckled shoulder, and froze when Lloyd fell into him, leaning on his side. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arm around the demigod, letting Lloyd leach off of his warmth. Lloyd himself was warm to the touch, and Brad’s skin reflected the glow, ever so faint.

Brad sighed. He was fucked, wasn’t he? Well, at least this wasn’t for nothing. He looked down at Lloyd, and let a smile cross his face. At least Lloyd wouldn’t have to be trapped inside of that sword forever.

“We might still win anyways,” he mused aloud, mostly just to fill the silence, “I mean, dragons show up all the time to help out, and we still have the Golden Weapons. We’ll be fine.”

Lloyd hummed, tracing the wood of the floor idly. “Still... I hate to let you down.”

“No let down here! I came here for a sword and found a friend. Uh... are we friends?”

Lloyd turned his face up to smile at Brad, green eyes crinkling. The tattoo on his forehead glowed briefly, like Lloyd’s smile couldn’t be contained to his mouth. “Yeah,” he said, “we’re friends.”

Brad’s face grew hot, and he coughed, looking away before he spontaneously combusted. Lloyd didn’t seem to notice, and drew himself up, dusting off his tunic.

“Hey, I know I’ve been kind of disappointing-”

“Not at all!” Brad jumped to his feet, and immediately felt stupid for yelling. Lloyd froze, eyes wide, before he laughed, a light blush covering his cheeks.

“Anyways. Stay for a while? It’s lonely up here.”

Brad hesitated. He’d left his mom, who was surely wondering where the hell he was, and Gene was probably worried as well. But looking at Lloyd’s hopeful expression, he couldn’t say no.

“Sure. You have a garden?”

Lloyd’s bright golden smile made it all worth it.

Lloyd led him through the monastery, introducing him to a bedroom that once belonged to Cole Brookstone, the Master of Earth. Brad was astounded to learn how long Elemental Masters truly lived – the same ones Lloyd grew up with over 60 years ago were still kicking, wiping Oni ass.

“Sorry for the mess,” Lloyd said, gathering the dusty comforter up, “ugh, I hope the washer still works.”

Brad chuckled, shaking dust off of the pillows. “We’ve got some cleaning ahead of us. I can start on laundry.”

Lloyd seemed surprised at the offer, before his eyes crinkled in a smile as the little gemstones imbedded in his chest glowed, twinkling like happy little stars. Brad couldn’t help the pink that spread across his cheeks. Man, if Lloyd continued smiling at him like that, Brad thinks he would do anything for him.

Oh wow, he was whipped. Gene was going to make so much fun of him.

That is, essentially, how Brad spends the next several days. He and Lloyd unearth ancient cleaning supplies and do their best tackling the dust and grime settled over the monastery. Lloyd, surprisingly adept with technology, tackles the appliances and power while Brad curb stomps the overgrown garden into submission. They both spend hours in the sun and crisp breeze cleaning the courtyard, and every night they do dishes together.

Just two weeks ago, Brad was adrift. He didn’t know what he wanted from life – just that he wanted more. Now he spends his days in a monastery on the world’s tallest mountain with the oddest boy he’s ever met, and it’s the happiest he’s ever been.

Lloyd is funny. He’s wry, and sharp, and through his hesitance is cheeky humor that Brad can’t help but find endlessly endearing, even when it’s used to dump buckets of water over his head.

Somehow, Lloyd Garmadon has made this one of the best weeks of his life.

Even if he has to leave soon.

Brad splayed over a sofa in the library, idly flicking through scrolls and books. Lloyd was in the courtyard practicing katas and what Brad thinks might be Spinjitzu – minus the magic tornado.

His thoughts are all over the place. On the one hand, he has to go. His mom and Gene will be worried, and he hates worrying them. On the other, all Brad wants is an adventure. Lloyd is quickly becoming a close friend, despite them not really sharing that much about themselves. Brad is just so easily drawn to him – or maybe that’s his raging ‘cute boy’ radar.

He groaned, staring at the ceiling. If he left, he’d be doing more than leaving behind a close friend – he'd be leaving Lloyd all alone. In fifty years, Brad was the only person to come up here. Who would Lloyd talk to about Starfarer, or beat in Mario Kart, or do the dishes with? He’d be up on this tall mountain all alone.

He wished there was a way to give Lloyd freedom. He saw the way the demigod looked at into the distance sometimes – like there was nothing he wanted more than to run out of this monastery as fast as possible and never look back.

“I’m so punching Garmadon,” Brad grumbled, picking up the random scrolls he’d been looking through. Boring stuff, honestly. As he was setting them back in their respective nooks, his eye caught on one, seemingly disturbed. Curiously, he unfurled it.

A sketch, done in quick, fluid pencil, of the four Golden Weapons. Those things were old news, but what interested Brad was the Sword of Sanctuary in the middle. His eyes roved over the words, and startled as he made out the characters spelling Lloyd’s name.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, rereading the text in astonishment. He laughed, bouncing in place. “Lloyd! Lloyd, holy shit!”

A few seconds later, the doors to the library slammed open, and Lloyd burst through the door with his fists up. He deflated when he saw Brad with the scroll.

“Is... something wrong?” Brad grinned, holding out the scroll.

“Lloyd, you’ve got to see this. It’s the solution!”

Lloyd took the scroll, reading carefully. His eyes widened the more he read, clutching the scroll tightly. “This... oh, grandfather.”

Brad grabbed Lloyd’s wrists, causing the blonde to look up at him. “Lloyd,” he breathed, “this is our answer. We can cure your curse and beat Garmadon.”

“The Golden Weapons... can break the curse,” Lloyd whispered. A small, hesitant smile grew on his face as hope shined in his eyes. “They- they can get me out of the sword.”

Hypothetically. The scroll was vague, and seemingly all hypotheticals, but it was hope. Hope for Lloyd, and Ninjago.

Brad held Lloyd’s hands to his chest. “Then let’s go get them,” he urged. Lloyd shrunk away a bit.

“But if I leave...”

“Lloyd, please,” Brad begged. “I’m your wielder, aren’t I? Well, I promise, I will never make you shift. I won’t ever order you around, and I won’t ever ignore you if you don’t want to do something.”

“But...”

Lloyd was terrified of losing his free will. From his perspective, Brad could be lying. His words didn’t mean much when they’d known each other for a week.

“Do you really want to wait around for your uncle to do it?” Brad pressed, desperate. He felt bad for pressuring Lloyd, but he also knew that if they could make this work, then Ninjago would be safe. “Lloyd, we can do this, can’t we? One kickass demigod and a swordsman!”

Lloyd gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you even trained?”

“I am... self-taught.”

Lloyd drew back, staring down at the scroll. Brad sighed, and retracted his hands. “I won’t make you,” he said softly, “If you really don’t want to, then I won’t try to make you. But don’t you want to be free?”

“And how do I know you won’t just turn me into a sword the second I step out that door?” Lloyd demanded. His voice cracked. “It’s what anyone would do! I- I'm not even a person to you.”

Brad crossed his arms. “Okay, rude.”

“What?”

“Rude! Man, when I have acted like you’re not a person? I mean, you’re a mega powerful demigod, but that’s different than ‘not a person’. I mean it, Lloyd – I won’t force you to do anything.”

Lloyd furrowed his brows. “I make a pretty kickass sword,” he warned, “you’ll be very sorely tempted. Not to mention all the people that will be after me.”

“They can’t do anything to you,” Brad reminded with a smile, “not if I never turn you into a sword. Which I won’t, because you’re my friend.”

Lloyd hummed thoughtfully. “...I’ve been wanting to kick my dad’s ass for a while,” he muttered vindictively.

“Come on,” Brad said, “adventure of a lifetime!”

“We’ll have to cross the entire continent.”

“Road trip!”

“We’ll be facing down my father’s worst soldiers, and neither of us have powers.”

“We’ll be crafty. You’re a ninja, aren’t you?”

Lloyd hesitated, and Brad could tell he was on the precipice. He softened his gaze. “Lloyd,” he said quietly, “you could wait for someone else to come along and free you... or you can free yourself.”

“Why?” Lloyd muttered. He seemed genuinely curious. “Why risk your life for me like this? You realize that you’ll be in constant danger.”

“Dude, why wouldn’t I? We break your curse, you get your powers back, and boom! Garmadon defeated, Ninjago saved. Besides,” he blushed, “an adventure? With you? Sign me up.”

Lloyd fell quiet, his green eyes calculating. The gemstones on his chest betrayed his growing excitement as they began to light up, thrumming with their own melody.

“Okay,” Lloyd breathed, his eyes brighter than Brad had ever seen them. The sight took his breath away.

“Okay?” He said. Lloyd nodded vigorously, bouncing in excitement.

“Yes! Let’s do it!”

Brad laughed, tackling Lloyd in a hug. The shorter blonde startled, letting out a surprised laugh.

“I am,” Lloyd said when they pulled away, “so ready to leave this monastery.”

They find themselves, hours later, at the gate of the monastery. Brad shoulders the bulk of the bags, full to the brim with clothes and food they’d hurriedly packed. They were both itching to get out now. Maybe Brad hadn’t thought this over enough – but how could he deny the chance to stop the Oni army? How could he pass up such a big adventure?

Lloyd hesitated on the steps, just within the boundaries of the monastery. Brad wordlessly held out his hand for Lloyd to take, smiling softly.

Lloyd looked down at him, framed by the sunlight shining through his golden hair like a halo. He took a deep, shuddery breath, and grabbed the hand.

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