#Magic circus generator

[aa0n]

Sfth characters I like \o/

[wackywatchdotcom]

woke up like 40 mins ago at like 4:30 unable to fall back alseep so im once again thinking about ragatha and pomni as The Ocd Havers. its everything to me. oh whoops i ran out of tags on this post

[foldedchip]

Things that I’ve loved and lost my mind over. I’m always happy to talk about these things with someone who is also loving and losing their mind over them, but know that some of my knowledge about them might be outdated or limited to the very specific part I lost my mind over, but I’m always happy to learn!

Hollow Knight (video game)

Minecraft (video game)

The Legend of Zelda (video game series)

Pokémon (video game series + collectible card game)

Animal Crossing (video game series)

Super Mario (video game series)

Kirby (video game series)

Adventure Time (cartoon series)

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic (cartoon series)

Bluey (cartoon series)

Mao Mao: Heroes of Pure Heart (cartoon series)

SpongeBob Squarepants (cartoon series)

The Amazing Digital Circus (cartoon series)

Steven Universe (cartoon series + movie)

Lackadaisy (webcomic + movie + cartoon series)

Over the Garden Wall (cartoon)

My Little Pony: A New Generation (movie)

lots of Marvel movies

lots of Pixar studio movies

lots of Ghibli studio movies

The Lunar Chronicles (book series)

[shadow-coolness]

Poorly explaining random pieces of media

The result of SVTFOE,Shrek and Ankama being put in a blender.

The Princess has fallen in love with a Hedgehog!

Pokemons and Avatars love child.

A hero show where only 6 of the characters pictured above are actual heroes(and 5 of them are the main characters)

Why making the adaption massively different from the source material can be a good thing.

Shadow The Hedgehog 2 now with 100% more trauma.

Mon-ical Girls.

PacMan taking Pac-cues from Danny Phantom and Mario.

Friendship is firing lasers,fighting shapeshifters,tyrants,monsters and dealing with racism,trauma and personal problems.

VR gone Vwrong.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Zero Gravity

Things Justice League knows about Danny Phantom:

He's dead (why, how, and for how long is unclear)

He's generally on the 'good' side (but contingency plans have been set up in case of 'future evil self' resurfacing, by Danny's own suggestion)

He's a figure of authority among other dead/neverborn/otherworldly/eldritch/magical beings (however, it's unclear to what kind of authority he holds and why)

He's dating one of the Bats (unclear to who, but none of them confirmed nor denied the fact, which is a confirmation on its own)

He absolutely hates only three things: toast, circus, and Christmas (neither of them explained)

His powerset is so wide that he can't even fully recount it (unclear if it's because he doesn't remember all his abilities or if he can't keep track of the new ones popping up spontaneously)

He's hot [whoever added this, you're not wrong, but I'm watching you - O.]

He has a grudge against Flash (unclear to why, but Flash seems to know the reason and won't budge regardless)

Of course, there are many more things to know about Danny Phantom, but they are mostly suspicions, rumors, and speculations. Like how sometimes the boy seems distracted and bored as if he is only going through a pre-written script; a sign of repeatedly going through the same day a few times too many, as the other time-travellers say. Or like how sometimes he knows too much - the boy is an expert in Kryptonian biology, to Clark's great surprise, and is more knowledgeable about Olympus politics than Diana herself.

There are also little things that are hard to notice and even harder to ignore once you do. How he never talks about family but likes listening to others talk about it. How he pointedly stays away from the medbay and any kind of medical staff. How he stops every time he passes one of the giant windows on the main floor of the Watchtower, smiling dreamily at the sight of vast, open space beyond it.

And then, there's The Thing that no one addresses.

When Danny Phantom doesn't pay attention, he unknowingly nullifies gravity.

The first time it happened, Bruce thought the Watchtower's artificial gravity collapsed. However, he very quickly realized that it was a local occurrence - only a few rooms and a hallway were affected - and, right in the center of it, was Danny, reading a book he borrowed (stolen) from the Wayne manor library.

The boy himself never noticed it. Which made sense, given that he defied gravity all on his own, always floating in the air above the floor.

But the others never acknowledged it either, treating the sudden absence of gravity as a sign of one, Danny appearing somewhere around, and two, him being in a good, if a bit absent, mood.

All in all, it's not the strangest thing that happens at the Watchtower on a daily basis.

And, besides, it's kind of fun.

¤¤¤

Danny, floating in the middle of the game room at Wayne manor, deeply engrossed in a video game: Eat this, sucker!

Tim, using his toes and knees to keep himself from floating up from the couch, not wanting to distract Danny from their match: Oh, you're going down.

Titus in the background:

¤¤¤

Bart, in the middle of a conversation with Kon:

Kon: ...

Bart, looking down at the cup on the floor: ... I guess he left?..

Kon: He literally went through a giant glowing portal two minutes ago, five feet away from you, but that's how you figure it out?

Bart: I have a short attention span, anyway-

¤¤¤

Barry, opening a bag of chips just for all the contents and himself as well to start floating: I swear he does this on purpose, I fucking swear.

¤¤¤

Red Tornado, coming into the training hall of Mount Justice: ...

Young Justice:

Red Tornado: I take it Danny is visiting. I'll leave you to it, then.

¤¤¤

Bruce, walking out of the conference room at the Watchtower to see this on the other end of the hallway, internally: He may be coming this way, I should warn the others in the room.

Bruce, a second later, because he is a little shit deep inside: On the other hand, it's a great surroundings awareness drill, so maybe I shouldn't.

[sandimexicola]

ride my magic carpet through electric ladyland

[cassiopeiasfreckles]

What's in a name?

Because I have no chill, too much time, and a scientist's curiosity and love of a spreadsheet I've gone through all the YouTube longforms and noted down all the names used because it felt like some came up oddly often. To vaguely justify this insanity I figured I'd share the results:

Given Names:

Used 5+ times: Hans (6), James (6), Jemima (5), John (5)

Used 3+ times: David (3), Johnny (3), Michael (3), Penelope (3), Terry (3), Toby (3)

Used 2 times: Amanda, André (both as André Beetroot but he's in two separate longforms), Bill, Clarissa, Derek, Dmitri, Gavin, Helga (there are two Helga's in the same longform), Javier, Jeff, Jimmy, Krampus (Big and Little), Lucy, Maria (one is part of Maria Clarissio as a compound name), Mark, Martha, Marty, Mary, Mildred, Otto, Peter, Rupert (Sr and Jr), Sherlock (again, the same character in two different longforms), Tarquin, Tony, Xavier

Surnames:

Used 3 times: James, Jenkins

Used 2 times: Beetroot, Holmes, Johnson, Lestrade, Moriarty, Rogers, Twilliger, Watson

General Things:

There are 172 distinct given names used across the longforms on YouTube

There are 79 distinct surnames

For given names they bloody love ones starting with J because there are 24 of those and the next closest is M with 19

The least favoured are Z, Q and U with none and E, I, O, V and W which all only have 1

For surnames most common is B, C and R which crop up 9 times each, followed by J again with 8

Their least used are F, I, N, Q, U and Z all get no entries and E, G, K and X have just the one

The longform with the most given names used is The Milkman with 9, the The Hobnob Affair and And so it Begun both with 7

The most surnames are given in The Final Baker of Baker Street with 9, then The Mystery of the Midnight Circus with 7

The longforms with the least given names are The Midnight Mystery and The Meringue Haberdashery which both only have 1 first-named character

7 longforms have no surnames in at all (Oopsy Daisy Bulge, Wine Under the Bridge, Moist & Magical, Marigolds, Bluebells & Hugh, Divorces & Teddybears, Wild, Wet & Worrisome, and Susan's Holiday)

[sleepy-fiction]

Weeping Clown Drabble

Weeping Clown x Reader. | Joker x Reader. 🤡🚀

Weeping Clown x Reader. | Joker x Reader. 🤡🚀

syn: an exploration of your relationship with Joker post Hullabaloo game, detailing your relationship's sinful sicknesses and dove-like health.

tgs: fluff, angst, comfort fic, mild sex mentions, violetta lives (f u idv devs), NSFW but not smut, very sweet read! Not proofread

3k Word Estimate

Calm, quiet moments with the weeping clown.

Snuggly cuddling up with him, both of you undressed, with your body pressed against his. Laying serenely on his chest, his hands wrapped tight around your back, your face near his collarbones, the top of your head familiarizing itself with the bottom of his chin.

His prosthetic has long since been abandoned on the floor. He's in no hurry to leave not for a very long while. His breaths are slow and deep, his chest rising and falling, picking up your head and body before carrying them back down low. The warmth of his thighs envelope your legs on either side, and you've turned your hips a bit to give his private area some place. But you love being here, drowning in him.

The smell of his body, face paint, orange scented lotion, and wants of hair spray mingle in with your senses. Setting you at ease to his unique scent. The sounds of his breath the fireplace, and the generator outside the cabin humming away only added to the sunset hues that washed in from the window.

Ever since surviving the manor, the two of you have become so lazy.

Spending lazy morning wrapped up together, not knowing where Joker ends and you begin. And ending your long days the same way you began, only this time with full bellies and drained muscles from hard work.

Weeping was so warm. At times, he was his own heater. You always clocked it as the radiance from his heart ebbing out to the world, and how it melted on to your cheek. The covers were barely on you, they were tangled up somewhere beneath you and him, barely covering your bottom, simply because you couldn't let the muscles there get remotely cold.

And oh, how Joker's long, slanky arms trapped you to his radiance. The contrast of cold metal fingertips drumming up your body made you shudder, but they soon absorbed the mountains of heat the two of you created simply by holding each other.

And oh, how your ears were soon graced with a serene little melody. A raspy hum trailling out his strung body, as his chin shifts above you, all to place a much needed kiss against the top of your head. It's met with delighted chimes from you, chimes that only make him stay, aggresively peppering your head, each time growing stronger with a rough passion.

It's only when you squeak and wiggle your head that he finally comes too, sucking in a huge breath and flipping his head back where it belongs. He releases his sigh hard, as if he were merely drowning seconds ago, and is now coming up for much needed air.

The world felt like it was underwater before he let you in before he met you.

You met shortly after Hullabaloo broke down. He stole the carpentry job position you had been working so hard to get, earning more wages despite how long you had already been working there. You hated him, you were so envious. But then you learned of how sweet he was. How kind and thoughtful, how attentive he was to your needs. Then, almost like magic, the two of you clicked, and fell head over heels in love so suddenly.

You did everything in your power to slow things down, you were scared of love.

But his intimacy, his affections, that soft doey look in his eyes crept it's way around.

Then he got that letter.

He never told you much about that circus he used to work for. Not much other than it burned down, that nobody ever found the culprit. But you saw that look in his eyes. It was a look you had never-ever seen him wear.

It was this stiff, tormented look, like a veteran of war slowly dissociating, slowly shrinking away to horrid memories. He had this weird air about him since getting this letter. Serious, cold, quiet, distant, defensive... And you hate to say it, demented.

He was closing you out. You hated it.

And you hated even more how he decided to play that performance, despite how every part of his body seemed so distressed at the mere mention of it. Its like he didn't know the stress his body was displaying, like he didn't know it was bad.

It was hurting him, chewing away at him deeply, but he didn't even know it.

You knew it.

So you knew you wouldn't let him go alone.

You arrived at the manor with him. Watching him dress himself in this creepy, unsettling way. The makeup and get up of a clown, not the carpenter that you knew. Nothing was wrong about the makeup, it was fun, it was just the unsettling, wounded look in his eyes paired with that crazed, deluded smile of joy strung up on his lips.

He worried you so much. He acted so displaced. As if he were a character in a performance, trying so hard to pull the knives out of others while ignoring the lethal spear lodged in his back. You tried to hold him at night, but he was never in his room. The times you could get him alone, he could barely form coherent sentences, shaking and muttering, eyes lost in a cloud of delusion.

He was scaring you. So you held him, you swarmed him and trapped him there. Even when he tried to leave, ever so oddly in the middle of the night. You woke up (as for some estranged reason, you couldn't sleep at night, and had your own set of terrifying, unexplainable delusions), and kept him.

You wanted to leave early. Everyone there was acting strange. Everyone there was unsettled and holding back. All bottled up, each having their own twitch, their own characters that ignited when they were around eachother. And when the game itself started, you and the spider girl, were forced to sit out as the "audience". The blonde from before, whose name you've slowly begun to forget, liked to called you the "Judge" or an unbiased set of eyes.

You sat in a tent with the spider, watched the blonde dress himself as a clown, and hide away. And Weeping, a girl who you've assumed was "Natalie," entered in shortly after, ignoring both you and the spider; as any character before, an audience should.

Shortly after.

Things unfolded.

You learned the truth about your clown the hard way. And the blonde, the blonde became so obsessed with your "verdict" of Joker.

It was horrifying. Horrifying how his hounding of you started this weird, unnatural reaction from the spider and the clown. They morphed into... Creatures you didn't know.

You were barely able to calm the clown down through your fear, but it didn't stop how Mike too began to warp from his own confusion.

And when your verdict came.

"All of you are guilty."

You said those words not knowing the backstory behind the circus hullabaloo, behind this "Sergei" or anything else. Only knowing the chaos that unfolded between the spider, the clown, and the acrobat of the hullabaloo circus.

Somehow, somehow you were able to end the cat and mouse chase. Somehow, somehow you escaped, tugging along Joker- Joker who looked large and monstrous along with you with all of your might. You fought so hard to bring him with you, fighting tooth in nail, fighting like a rat backed into a corner.

And when you finally arrived home, slept it off, the days following it where filled with the bitter weeping of your beloved clown. He tried to tell you all of it, sober, no longer overcome with whatever it was that the manor made you all feel. But you didn't let him.

You let the chapter be closed. You let the story end there. You felt you didn't need to understand it all, and he didn't deserve to relive it all over again.

So you held him.

You held him until the spring sun sprung up after winter's thick clouds. You took care of him, with him, until the sun's rays helped kindle the little fire in his heart. You encouraged him until your little carpenter returned.

You supported him as he stood slowly on his own too feet again. As he washed away his facepaint of yore, as he peeled back his deathly cloak of shame, leaving himself open and vulnerable. You encouraged him, gave him his space when needed, and moved and breathed, slowly reclaiming your own sanity, your own normalcy.

Your home began to smell like wood, pollen began to flood the late winter air. You supported him until the day he saw the first flower of spring, a lonely daisy poking up from melting snow, and smiled-- truly smiled. He cracked a soft joke, forlorn and filled of admiration, "Un-bud-lievable..."

As daisies always were his favorite flower.

Then, on, things began to weave together. The sun had turned a cheek and showed his face again. And though you knew he felt undeserving of it, you were so proud, so proud he lived yet another day with you. So proud of the way he bounced again, the way color filled his cold winter cheeks.

The sounds of sneezing and tissue blowing filled your lonely little cabin, despite his misery, it brought you boundless joy. And God, you were ever so proud, and ever so overjoyed, by the string of flower-related jokes. By mid-spring, your pride mellowed out into a new feeling.

A yearning no longer satisfied by long hugs. Byt tart kisses, or soft cuddles.

Soon, most of your mid spring evenings were filled with passion and almost frantic, love-making.

The kind that was crazed, like love birds on their honeymoons, burning with a mutual desire, and an overwhelming acceptance. A connection, a fire that complemented your compatability, your natural, almost primal, sexual synergy. The desires of your nights were long, chaotic, arranging in an array of vibrant stars and vivid colors. Vivid new ways to explore eachother, vivid ways to love and feel. From the teary eyed, sobbing, sweet and gratefully adventures, to the wild, crazed, barbaric takeovers, he felt whole. He came out healed from each one. Gaining more understanding. No. More acceptance of himself, despite the intensity of his sins.

And by the time the stormy, rainy April came around, Joker could finally say, with full confidence that he was truly himself again.

All thanks to you, guiding him in the way of intimate, unconditional love. Love that was loyal, love that was all his, love that rewarded, love that took yet never destroyed, love that changed yet never rejected, love that was soft and quiet. Love that was gentle and accepting.

Love of an easy yolk.

So here he confident lays beneath you, warming up your normally frosty body, after a thunderstorm that's aftermath clicked on the low, tidy hum of your home's generator. Laying uncomfortably beneath stringed sheets, yet too lazy to get up, knowing how his back will be accosted. But loving every second, of your lovely, purring body, that was devoted only to him.

How lucky was he, to be saved by you. To feel your feather-falling mercy and selfless support, even when you fail to understand him, you over tender unconditional care. Care of which, you claim, he first gave you endlessly. Something he will forever fail to see. So he continues to drown you in the same gentle, ever-budding, open ears and providing arms.

Warming you with his natural summer sunshine, the way you, his tender spring moonlight, loved.

Humming, joking, professing to you, everlasting.

Holding the key to your very essence, and supplementing the cry of your body.

His dearest, his love, his savior.

He swallows thickly, staring at the ceiling, feeling blood begin to rush to his downstairs.

Ah, who was he kidding? He was no poet, simply a horny, obsessive clown with a knack for carpentry work.

And damn.

His face flushes, his hips shift.

Your soft body was wonderland all over.

So, as any predictable fool would, Joker stutters out of his sweet cleft lips, "My d-dear... Make love with m-me yet again."

And you're ready in seconds.

[swagyalastorwife]

Masterlist PART1 /PART2

{I am sorry i probably forgot some fanfiction }

(^-^)/❤️ here rules

Hazbin Hotel

｡⋆♡⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

Alastor x reader { one shot }

Hazbin hotel x reader marriage proposal part1

Hazbin hotel x reader marriage proposal part2

Jealous!hazbin hotel x reader part1

Jealous!hazbin hotel x reader part2

Hazbin hotel as parents part1

Hazbin hotel as parents part2

Jealous!Lucifer x reader {headcanons}

Sir pentious x reader {headcanons}

YandereLucifer x blue eyes reader part1

YandereLucifer x blue eyes reader part2

YandereLucifer x blue eyes reader part3

YandereLucifer x blue eyes reader part4

Alastor x hunter!reader

Adam x server!reader at Hooters

Charlie x male!reader part1

Hazbin hotel x pin up girl!reader

Adam x pica!reader

Lucifer x traumatized!reader

Lucifer x sleeping beauty!reader

Lucifer x reader at a masquerade ball

Vox x reader at a masquerade ball

Lute x gn!nerdy!reader

Yandere!alastor x depressed!reader

Alastor , Husk,Adam,lute x anorexic!reader

Lucifer x reader!who doesn't like to be touche

Angel dust x sibling!reader

Adam dating alphabet{ headcanons}

Adam x reader who speak french

Vox x reader!who want to put a USB drive in his head

Sera x reader{platonique part1}

Vox x employee!reader

Yandere!Mammon,Adam,Asmodeus x cheater!reader

Adam x reader {who likes to bite him}💛🦷

Vox,Adam x reader { the keyboard war}💙💛

Vox x employee!reader {vox defends y/n from Valentino}

Carmilla Carmine{clara} x new!overlord!reader part1

Clara x overlords!reader and { Carmila}part2

Adam x reader {long-distance relationship}

Sad!Angel dust x Human!Witch!reader🩷

Adam x freaky reader

Adam x freaky!reader{smut}

Adam x reader who have a cat 💛

Adam , Lucifer and Angel Dust x librarian!reader

Lucifer x reader!who is afraid of thunderstorm💛

Husk,Angel, lute,vox and valentino x a playboy bunny!reader

Zestial x Magic!Overlord!reader 💚

Adam x human!reader 💛{ who has sexual trauma}

Adam xADHD!insecure!reader💛

Alastor and Vox x reader!who can't sleep because their neighbor is watching Young Sheldon

Adam x artist!reader💛🎨

Charlie x human!reader❤️ {who have a curse}

Sins morning routine 🍡💰❤️🔥🍎💜💙 { Lucifer is there }

Vox x employee!reader{who have a panic attack}🦈

Lucifer x gardener!reader 🍎

Arcane

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𖹭.ᐟ⋆⭒˚.⋆ ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Vi ,jinx , Caitlyn x jealous!reader

Vi,jinx,Caitlyn x chubby!reader

Vi x reader who want to learn to fight

Jealous!vi x reader

Drunk Vi , drunk Caitlyn x reader{headcanons}

Vi ,Caitlyn, jinx x sad!reader

Arcane x transfem!reader!who think negatively of themselves🩵💜❤️

Vi,Caitlyn,Jinx x reader!who has these periods❤️🩸

Vi!who had a nightmare x reader❤️

Vi x reader {enemies to lovers }

Jealous!Vi x reader smut❤️

Vi x reader ❤️identity crisis

Helluva boss{headcanons}

𐙚⋆°🦢｡⋆♡⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

Mammon x outcast!reader

Yandere!Mammon, yandere Adam x reader

Martha x yandere!reader { I'm going to do it again}

Mammon x reader {headcanons}

Semi Yandere!Sallie may x Yandere!reader

Yandere!Mammon punishing the reader

Yandere!Mammon,Adam,Asmodeus x cheater!reader

Mammon with child!reader

Satan x Angel of death!reader ❤️

Vassago x male!reader propose

Stolas Xgn!reader!scientist part1

Mammon x reader {smut}💚

Beelzedub x child reader

Satan x male!Angel of Death!reader { propose}

Satan x Yogirt sibling!reader

Belphegor!reader {general headcanon}💜💞

Millie as the adopted daughter of Satan

Mammon x reader💚 part1 {who wants to possess the soul of the reader}

Belphegor!reader who has just realized that she's aroace💜💞

Sallie may x reader💜💜💞

Mammon x reader💚 part2 {who wants to possess the soul of the reader

Yandere!Mammon x insecure!reader💚

Mammon x reader💚 part3 {who wants to possess the soul of the reader}

Depress!Stolas x reader💜

Belphegor!reader💜💞 {singing LEECHES by Melanie Martinez for Mammon }

I.m.p x male!hellhound!reader

Sins morning routine 🍡💰❤️🔥🍎💜💙

Vassago x Azrel(Angel of death)!reader❤️

The amazing digital circus

✮˚.⋆𐙚⋆°🦢｡

Jax x reader {headcanons}💛💜

And requests are opennnn❤️❤️

[hanistry]

WHISKERS' RED | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | fantasy au, magic au / alice in wonderland inspired au

synopsis | hyunjin knew the consequences of rejecting the queen of hearts' marriage proposal would be severe, but he didn't think it would bother her this much!

word count | 5.1k+

warning | playful illusions involving the body being twisted and turned in ways it should not

world | zero

The burst of red petals in the air was the last thing Hyunjin thought he would see. Yet, at the same time, he was not surprised to see them appear in the nick of time.

The queen must be furious to hear his rejection to her marriage proposal. He had also done it in the middle of a ballroom filled with elite guests of the kingdom. However, to be fair, she should not have been so self-assured as to propose to him in the middle of an extravagant party. 

He knew a great deal about the Queen the Hearts. Everyone does. After all, she was the queen. But he reckoned she didn’t know much about him. Even after she attempted to court him through unconventional (very unconventional) means, her knowledge of him was not enough to warrant the kind of affection she held. 

Thinking about the terrible courting process where he deadpanned his way through most of the interactions made him shiver. He tried so hard, but the queen was so absorbed in trying to impress him that all his effort to show disinterest was overlooked. 

Anybody with some sense could see that he does not love the queen and should have wisely deterred her from proposing and thinking that he would agree to marry someone at least twice his age.

It appeared that nobody in the kingdom had sense. The general public thought nothing of his dislike toward royalty when the benefit of a crown overshone his mundane opinion. After all, he need not fall in love with the queen, but how could he not fall in love with the crown?

Except Hyunjin did not fall in love with the crown. He fell in love with the young maiden who lived next door to his disdainful uncle, who he’s been forced to live with since his parents passed away, and he spent his entire teenage years pining over her. He liked to say she was the first girl to treat him kindly, conveniently forgetting that she was the first girl he had ever met.

He chose her over the queen. He will always choose her over the queen… which was only preposterous! So preposterous that the queen wanted his head for rejecting her!

“Hello, handsome!”

You had appeared from thin air—bursted from thin air, to be precise. Your signature marking of red rose petals fell elegantly onto the ground to signify the end of your untraceable teleportation. 

Hyunjin looked to you immediately and breathed out a sigh of relief. An annoying soul, but a familiar face, nonetheless. Anything would be better than the situation he got himself trapped in by uttering a kind rejection, which was hiding out in the palace maze and waiting for his eventual doom when the guards find their way to the spot he hid in.

“I see you’ve caught yourself in a bit of a fickle!” you mused, your body floating in the air with a feather’s weight. You put your face in front of his, invading his personal space. “Rejecting the queen’s marriage proposal? Now that is the kind of drama I have been dying to watch!”

It has been made abundantly clear to Hyunjin since your first encounter that his—or anybody's—misfortunes are a source of entertainment to you. Your privilege to wield an unclear amount of power, which provided you the freedom to dismiss the monarchy, has made your life a purgatory of boredom and stillness you cannot escape. You resorted to lurk through kingdoms in your usual feathery weight, finding those in misery just to get a kick out of them.

“I can’t imagine how entertaining this must be for you,” Hyunjin grumbled as he pushed your face away. 

“Indeed, you cannot! I never thought the circus will pan out this way!” you exclaimed as you spun quickly in the air before abruptly pausing with a magnificent ending pose. “You and the queen have been going on dates for weeks now! What a surprise that you turned down the proposal!”

“I was never going to accept her hand in marriage! Certainly, you realized that!” he hissed, his vine-like paranoia forcing him to continuously cast anxious glances behind his shoulders to watch out for the guards.

The corner of your mouth quirked into a widening grin. Your lower body twisted, evaporating into colored mist, leaving only your torso in the air. Leaning forward, you placed your hands under your chin to make a flower and let your dreamy eyes set atop of Hyunjin’s disheveled features. Messy brown hair and glistening sweat. A look of frustration and fear cast over his gorgeous face. 

Your endeared heart jumped! Oh, how you love his reactions to trouble! This is how all men should be—frustrated and afraid!

“Of course you don’t! It would make me so upset if you were to marry the queen,” you giggled as flew forward to poke his nose. “Keeping you single is my top priority.”

He blinked in surprise when you flicked your fingers between his eyes, then he frowned at you suspiciously.

He no longer questioned your fondness toward him. On many occasions, you have unwaveringly confessed to him your undying love for his beautiful face. Sweet and romantic words have flown out of your mouth like waterfalls, and they have only ever been for his beautiful face. Everyone in the kingdom knows that you have an honest tongue, so your praise and admiration for his looks must hold some truth to them.

Those were not grounds for him to believe you were genuinely in love with him. Besides, Hyunjin never believed their affection was genuine due to your erratic behavior. You were too playful, mysterious, and self-centered to devote yourself to another person. You already do not look out for yourself and look out even less for others. There was no way you could fall in love. Your affection for him has to be an ongoing joke in their immortal schedule.

“I am in love with someone else,” Hyunjin mentioned after your comment. There was a scowl on his face.

Your smile did not fade. You already knew that.

Before you could reply, you flew around his head when you heard the rattling of armors, your eyes twinkling with delight as the guards approached in groups. You grinned at the horrid expression he made before his feet began to scramble to bring him further into the maze.

“Looks like we should get out of here first before we continue our conversation!” you said, flying in front of him.

Hyunjin huffed in fear, his head turning to look behind him. The thought of being captured and having to explain to the queen his decision clouded his mind like poison he would willingly drink just so he could avoid that responsibility.

“I don’t know what you are doing here, genuinely,” he said through gritted teeth. “But unless you are planning to help, there is no ‘we’ here! It is just me!”

“Now, now, Hyunjin. I am not so heartless as to leave you in this mess alone!” You shook your head just as your torso vanished, leaving only your head turning in circles like an owl would turn their neck. “I know just the way out of this maze.”

“The queen must have ordered the guards to wait by the exit for me!” he sputtered out, then he grimaced. “Also, can you not do the cheshire cat thing with your human head!”

“Awe, why? It’s fun and it makes me even more weightless with only my head in the air,” you whined, bouncing your head in the air as if it was a ball walking down a flight of stairs.

You could hear the voices of the guards now. Their armors rubbed against each other as they ran, hoping to find the poor boy whom the queen has taken a liking toward. How unfortunate that such unpleasant sound would overshadow the orchestra performing at the ball tonight.

“Oh no–look, Y/N.” Hyunjin stopped to turn around, his ears drowning with the pitter-patter of steps. He turned to them, his hands gripping their shoulders, which appeared when he aimed for it confidently. His widened eyes were harsh and determined, much unlike what you were used to seeing on him. “Just get me out of here!” 

You cooed at the way his hair flung over his face, your eyes shining with endearment at how he managed to maintain an air of prettiness even in such a stressful situation. He did not look appreciative of your reaction at all as he gripped your shoulders harder, borderline giving you a shove, and he glared at you to take his life seriously.

“Since you asked so frantically, I will spare you–” you released yourself from his grasp and popped one of your arms off, swinging it in the air like a flag, “–a help hand!"

“Y/N!”

“Okay, okay! I already told you I know the way out of this maze,” you said with a roll of your eyes before you tapped your chin, ignoring the ever-growing sound of footsteps. You spun around, scanning almost every nook and cranny of the maze. There was nothing to look at besides tall bushes and the sky. “Hmm… let me think. I waltzed into the maze once and planted a secret exit, but that was some time ago. If my memory serves me correctly, it should be around a corner somewhere…”

“Y/N! Are you serious?”

“There he is! We found him!”

Hyunjin cursed under his breath at the booming voice. He would be surrounded soon if he does not make a run for it, but whichever way of the maze was he supposed to go? What if he gets trapped in a dead-end? You released a hand from your chin and tilted your head, smiling upon seeing a group of unfamiliar faces.

“Greetings, everyone!” You waved with your detached arm. When you received no heartfelt welcome in return, you sighed. “The queen can’t seriously still be mad about what I did to the garden? That was at least twenty years ago!”

The guards were taken back when they noticed your presence. 

“He is with cheshire’s descendant! Everyone be careful!”

You grinned as you huffed out a few breaths of laughter. What glorious reputation you and yours ancestors have cultivated that the royal guards have to set aside their objective to be alarmed with your presence. It was wise to pay extra attention to them, but not too much so they would neglect their surroundings because who knew what you would do?

Not even you knew what you would do sometimes. It was all so spontaneous! Sometimes, you spread rumors and gossip, which is all in good fun, no matter the minor consequences. Sometimes, you plant insects and bombs in flowers, which is still all in good fun, no matter the deadly consequences.

“Tough crowd! You people are worse than hecklers!” you complained playfully as you flew over to Hyunjin. "Fortunately for me, I ran out of jokes to tell."

Hyunjin froze when he felt legs settle over his shoulders. You had sat yourself on them, your body shrunk to that of a child so you could sit upon him without being out of place or too heavy for him to handle. Putting your hands on his cheeks, you pulled at him and giggled. 

“I and my side-kick are going to take our leave.” Reaching your hand up in the air, you smiled widely and yelled at the top of your lungs, “Ladies and gentleman! Have a fantastic night and you will see me again when I allow you to!”

Hyunjin was unsure what had happened but turned around and began running when he saw fireworks bursting amid the knights. You laughed maniacally above him. Your eyes were ablaze as the wind blew against them in this thrilling moment, and you remembered briefly why you existed. 

“Y/N! I don’t know what it is that you did but please, don’t kill anyone!”

When Hyunjin saw you again, you were no longer sitting on his shoulders but flying alongside him. He turned to you, his eyes wide in acknowledgment instead of shock. He has known you long enough to predict some of your antics, he believed, and this one he liked to claim as loyalty. No matter what, if you start something with someone, you will stick with them until the end.

Hence, you were still here with him during this escape. Or perhaps it was only because you liked him more than anyone else.

“You are giving me an awful lot of orders, Hyunjin,” you grumbled as you leaned close to him. The faux grimace on your face vanished as quickly as the wind and was replaced with your usual playful smile. “Have you finally learned how to use my affection to your advantage?”

He pulled a face. He tried to yell over the wind even though he wasn’t running very fast anymore. “I am already in love with someone else!”

You laughed, feeling equally as dismissive of his statement as any other time he’s announced it to you. You flew ahead of him and threw your hands up. Confetti released from your palms as if his affection for another was something worth congratulating.

“There is still a lot you don’t know about the Cheshire family, Hyunjin!”

The first thing being that every Cheshire descendant has a mate, a second soul, a linkage—a Hatta. Every Cheshire descendant has a Hatta whom they answer to, whom they devote themselves to, whom they love.

Your Hatta is Hyunjin.

The metal lock shattered with a flick of your wrist. Hyunjin stumbled toward you in a frenzy when the dungeon cell opened.

“Yeji! Yeji! My sister, they–the queen has my sister!” he uttered, his eyes wide with a discerning frown. 

Hyunjin clutched their shirt collar, frightened, and rushed for his beloved little sister more than his own safety. As his hair bounced with his animated movement, you could faintly notice a bruise near the corner of his eye. 

Either way, his need to pester you about Yeji immediately was not lost on you. He knew you would save him and only him unless it was otherwise stated that you had to prioritize another. You liked Yeji. She was an amazing daughter, a welcoming step-sister, and a lovely friend. However, no matter your relationship with her, it was not within your godly obligation to help her when she is in trouble, nor were you compelled to save her life.

You are only bound to Hyunjin, your Hatta. You only answer to him. If an emergency calls for it, the world can die with your sins.

Hyunjin has grown to understand that very well. He was finally utilizing his status, finally learning. Pestering you about his little sister forced you to also take care of her, making it impossible for you to abandon her after saving him, which he knew you would do no matter the consequences.

“I already knew they took you both,” you said, suppressing the jittery happiness in you. “I was watching you guys get taken from the tree in the backyard.” 

He slowed down, the grip on your collar loosening as he processed your word. “You were watching us?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod as you ran your hand through his disheveled hair. He didn’t flinch away, but you knew it was from shock and nothing else. “I didn’t feel like helping and you didn’t order me to.” 

You soothed your hand down the back of his head before gently brushing his fringes away to examine the bruise better. Depending on how much they destroyed his pretty face, how bothersome you would be soon in the courtroom. Judging by the fading purple, he wasn’t too hurt. You didn’t think he would be; the queen loved his pretty face as much as you did. But, regardless, you decided you were going to be as mischievous as you wanted.

“Do you want me to save her?” you asked, pushing his gloomy face up with your hands, squishing his cheeks together.

His grievances with you neglecting him and watching him and his sister’s misery for entertainment have mostly vanished. It was just the kind of thing you would do, so he wasn’t sure why he even felt annoyed by it in the first place. Besides, as long as you manage to rescue Yeji from the queen’s wrath, he would pretend nothing ever happened. Just like he has been doing. 

He nodded, a look of relief rushing over him. He was let off easier because the queen was in love with him, but Yeji was much less fortunate. A pretty face and a youthful soul could never fend well in the palace, for the envious queen was not pretty, youthful, or in love. She was dragged away last night when the guards found out she has been eating Hyunjin’s share of food, and he has not heard of her since. Not even her screams or moans. Just silence.

It has been a long, frustrating three days in the dungeon. Truth be told, he had been surprised it took you longer than a few hours to come to his rescue. Knowing you were there when he was taken from his home, he wasn’t so much surprised but rather confused. He figured he should throw that away too. Being confused about your actions would garner him a lifetime of confusion, but there would never be an answer. 

“Yes. Please save my sister,” he said. “I command you to save her.”

The golden glow in your eyes shone only for a moment. Your first ever official Hatta command!

Hyunjin has learned the first time it happened that the glow was akin to the act of signing a contract, or the act of your priorities shifting. It is a promise. When the gold shines in your eyes, vanishing and blinking as the legacy of the original Cheshire Cat, it means you would only stop until the command is fulfilled.

“Okey-dokey!” You stepped back and gave him a courtesy, then you stood up and tapped his shoulder twice. “You just wait at the Cheshire House for me. I will bring your sister along in no time!”

He looked confused. The Cheshire House? He has never heard of such a place. Could it be near the Looking Glass or could it be hidden somewhere in Hearts that he never knew of? It would not be surprising if he never knew of it. He was just a staple boy, after all. He had not the rich to spend on extravagant vacations.

“The what?”

You smiled at him fondly, squeezing his cheeks and cooing at how adorable his confusion appeared. He didn’t have the sense to swat your hand away as he usually would, he only looked on this time, waiting for an explanation. But you gave him nothing of satisfaction, only the sound of a foreign name.

“Minho.”

Within a second, Hyunjin vanished out of existence in a wrap.

The queen was furious when you appeared in court.

Emerging in a fit of red rose petals, you made your presence known amongst the council and the throne. You had appeared at the center of the courtroom where Yeji was being held captive. Within a blink of an eye, you snatched the girl away from the knight from the Spade Section, which meant he was an executioner!

You mirrored the card’s shocked expression before sticking your tongue out at him while holding Yeji to your chest and ignoring the way she gasped in shock. Whether it came from the proximity of you both or the fact that you blatantly disrespected a royal guard, you have no idea.

“Who dares to interrupt the morning court?”

“Oh, here we go,” you sang under your breath with a quirk of your brows upon the queen’s roar. Turning to face the throne, you bowed to the Queen of Hearts and her goofy, useless husband. “Greetings, your majesties! I hope you are having a much blessed morning!”

The king bounced in his seat with wondrous stupidity, one which you admired to the extent that you would always be applauded under his attention. He was easy to entertain and he hasn’t much standard, considering he stayed with the stubborn queen who was only once beautiful inside and out.

“Good morning to you too, Cheshire’s descendant!” the king exclaimed as his clumsy arm waved.

You flashed him a lovely smile, sparkles radiating off the side of your face as if you were a cartoon character. It only made him happier to see the cheerful illusion. 

The queen scoffed on her throne and ignored her husband’s reaction. “One can never have a blessed morning with you intruding my court.”

Stifling a fake gasp, you covered your mouth and leaned your head on Yeji’s shoulder, sobbing into her clothes with big, chunky tears that disappeared in the air as they fell, never once staining the carpet beneath your feet. “Oh, Yeji, whatever should I do now? The queen hates me!”

“You have my prisoner.”

“Yes, I do!” You released Yeji with a grin and clapped excitedly. 

With a confused and somewhat frightened expression, Yeji got shoved to the front before a string of confetti bounced off the top of her head. They latched onto her red braids and farmer dress after appearing with a ‘pop!’ that startled her.

“I present to you, Hwang Yeji!” you announced after walking up next to her and presenting her as if she were standing in a dark room in a spotlight. You could present a spotlight, but the courtroom was too bright, and you didn’t feel like making the effort to darken the room. “Hwang Hyunjin’s beloved little sister, as well as an innocent prisoner taken in because the Queen of Hearts wanted to commit a crime of passion–”

Your voice dragged on the last syllable of the word ‘passion’ as your body wrapped into nothing. Not a second later, like a boomerang, your voice echoed through all corners of the courtroom in a circle, finishing with the vocabulary. The council members, all animals, looked around in hopes of catching a glimpse of you, but their effort was to no avail.

A turtle ducked his head into its shell, leaving only his glasses perched at the entrance. An owl turned her head in a circle and sprung back around quickly, feathers flying off her body. The horse’s nostrils flared when she felt a breeze rush past her neck, blowing away the papers on her desk.

You reappeared with a loud gasp. When you were visible again, you were by the queen’s side, intruding on her personal space. Unlike your original attire, your new outfit matched that of the council members: something sophisticated and unnecessary. It took a minute for everyone to notice the naked rabbit hiding in the corner of the courtroom—you had taken his clothes, which appeared to be the Spokesman’s uniform.

“Would the queen like to comment on the matter?”

“My queen, our dearest queen?”

“For the Hearts Morning Post, my queen, would you like to give an answer to why Hwang Yeji was arrested?”

“My queen, please look over here for the headline picture!”

“Gossip! Gossip! Gossip!”

“On a scale of white to red, how relevant is Yeji’s arrest related to her brother’s rejection of the marriage proposal?”

Lights flashed, and questions were fired left and right by the numerous clones of yourself made to look like a group of paparazzi interrogating the queen. You have given each clone a different voice to make them appear as other people. However, instead of appearing altogether, you flashed from here to there at an immeasurable speed while confusing the queen by continuously throwing camera flashes at her face.

“I command you to stop at this instant!”

You did. You stopped before her, your eyes gleaming with such ridiculous enjoyment that the queen had to question whether your mind had been taken away by the purple-stripe mushrooms in the forests. But she knew for a fact that you were sane. Insanity was the Mad Hatter’s legacy, spontaneity the Cheshire Cat’s.

Both of which were a hindrance to her ruling of the kingdom.

“My queen! Such generous volume in your voice, you almost blew me away!”

“Shut your mouth, Cheshire.”

“That is my ancestor’s name, Iracebeth,” you mused, not so much because you were bothered by her choice of names. You tilted your head. It went around like a clock’s hand as your pupils dilated until it covered all surface of your eyes. “I don’t go around calling you by your mother’s name, do I?”

Her face flushed with red. Your eyes returned normal quickly and you raised your eyebrows. Stepping back, your stood straight and in silence before you suddenly began to mirror her appearance by turning your head into the shade of a tomato. She only fumed more when she realized you were mocking her anger.

“You insolent brat! How dare you! I am to be addressed with the utmost respect or I will have your head chopped off!”

The redness stayed on your face as you wheezed at the sheer arrogance of her statement. You threw your head back and thrashed your torso about as you laughed, your laughter causing your head to slowly inflate like a balloon. Incredible! The queen is a stuck-up bonehead who does not understand the absolute Law of Fate! 

There was a loud crack when you twisted your neck. You froze, the departure of your boisterous laughter leaving the air with a sudden, unfamiliar dryness. Yeji whipped around to find your body crumbled to the ground, and she stayed frozen at her spot as she watched your head detach from your neck and float up to play in a merry-go-round. She knew you could do that, but like her brother, she could never get used to seeing no blood in a human body.

“Get my head chopped off like this?” you asked, the arm of your fallen body raising and waving. “A very clean cut! Are you sure your executioner can manage that?”

The queen huffed at your mockery. She raised her chin at you, a desperate attempt to exert authority. “The executioner will do anything I ask, which is to behead you, Cheshire poison.”

The merry-go-round stopped and vanished into soft glitter. You stood up from the ground, your head reattached to your body. When you gathered yourself, you stared at her for a belated moment, then you relaxed into yourself. 

You would give her the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she didn’t know the Law of Fate rather than thinking she could defy it with the crown on her head. Perhaps she had no idea that no mortals other than a Hatta could kill a Cheshire. It was not your confidence speaking, it was a rule written by Fate, the Cheshire Cat’s first wife.

Anyone born into the Cheshire bloodline could only die when the Hatta allowed them to. It was why any action with malice intent—unless made by their Hatta or another Cheshire descendant—would fly right through a body like yours. That fact was mostly known to the long lines of descendants and their Hattas, but some people have read them from books or heard them from folktales, too.

“You cannot do that, my queen,” you explained with a bright smile. “You cannot have my head. Only Hyunjin can.”

“Nonsense! I can do whatever I want!” she hollered at your blatant disobedience. “I am the queen!”

You blinked, even more surprised by her ignorance and confidence now. Even though you liked to abuse the Cheshire power you possessed, something about the way the queen screamed of her identity made your skin itch in dismay. So much confidence for someone who knew only what they were allowed to know.

This was not the Iracebeth your family told you about. This was not the girl with a fairytale and flowers. This was not the girl in love with a boy who died. That girl was no longer. She has become the Queen of Hearts.

“Yes, you are the queen.” You nodded, then you stared straight into her eyes. “You are also only a queen.”

“I am unsure how you have become this way, Your Majesty,” you continued after a moment of silence. “But I am here to assure you that you have no authority to treat people the way you do.”

She squinted her eyes at you. “You know nothing of what i have been through.”

“That is never the point. Whatever tragic past you have, you do not own the monopoly in human suffering,” you said. “Contrary to your desired belief, you do not have it worse, Your Majesty. Those who do don’t turn out like you.”

“That’s enough!” She slammed her hands on the armrests of her throne and stood up. She pointed an accusing finger at you and spat, “Off with their heads! Both of them!”

Yeji stumbled back in fear at the command. She shook her head when the guards closed in on her and screamed when you tapped her shoulder. You flashed her a judgemental grimace and pulled her close to you. You raised your hand and flicked your wrists, your eyes glowing the Cheshire gold before a force field activated around the room.

The knights continued to run but were making no progress, cursed to be stuck running in the same spot repeatedly to reach an unreachable destination. They looked ridiculous with their spears and moving legs.

“You majesty, have I not mentioned that you cannot have my head?” you asked rhetorically, sighing at her as the venom in you eased back into your usual playful self. “Your knights can’t even get close to me.”

She looked baffled. She tried barking at the soldiers to run faster, but with another twist of your hand, they were rendered back to square one again. She whipped her head, her crown stuck on top, and back to you when no one else had the answer.

“You cheshire poison! What are you doing to my guards?”

“Nothing,” you replied, wiggling your finger with a giggle before you settled down. You wafted your hand near Yeji’s red braids and watched as her hair undone itself, setting them straight and messy the way the girl woke up. “This is my Cheshire talent. I control time.”

The queen gulped when you eyed her purposefully.

You knew. You knew that she was surprised because time was not what she thought it would look like, because you were exactly what she had been looking for because, after all the screams and shouts, you were the person she had to look to if she ever wanted to revive her lost love.

The boy who once went all out for her. The boy who died for her. The boy named Christopher.

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 34:

He pulled the first card, looking at it before he turned it so Agatha could see it too. "The Horse Drawn Carri..."

"The Chariot?" Agatha interrupted him, clearly wanting to get this over with. Plus, it was clear that Billy was not as knowledgeable about it as he claimed to be. "It's literally written on the card."

You looked at your lover. "Let him do it, Agatha. Unless you want to give it a try, " you scolded, knowing fully well how she looked down upon the tarot cards and tarot reading in general.

She would often call it lesser magic or circus tricks.

"Fine," she mumbled and motioned for Billy to continue.

Billy cleared his throst. "Right. So, obviously, you're

leaving somewhere behind, and you have these sphinxes with you, and they represent your... your... mysteriousness."

Agatha placed her elbows on the table and interlocked her fingers before resting her chin on them. "You have a real gift."

"This card hasn't really come up much for me." He confessed and placed the card on one of the carved empty spaces.

Immediately, the sound of metallic objects clanging with one another made you all look up; only then noticing the dozens upon dozens of hanged swords; attached to the ceiling by some sort of string?

You were not sure.

You could not see any details from that distance, but you were quite sure they were not props or fake. Something was telling you that they were real and very sharp swords, positioned in a way that would finish off any one of you.

Billy shallowed hard. "I'll try another one." He drew the next card. "Seven of Swords."

You could not help but scoff faintly. "At least you're on theme." You commented and earned a look from him, clearly not happy with your words. "Sorry," you apologised and gently lifted your hands up as a sign of surrender.

"I know this one. It's about deception and betrayal." He started to explain. "But it's reversed.

So that means the opposite. Are you being truthful?" He questioned and looked at Agatha.

He clearly did not believe her to be saying the truth cause well... she was Agatha Harkness. She won nothing by being honest, and Billy doubted she had ever been, at least with him.

He wasn't sure about you, but considering how you did not expect her visit back then, when they were gathering coven members, and this odd tension existing between the two of you... it was wise of him to assume that you hadn't talked in a while.

And he did wonder if you were even together or had this strange former romantic bond; like how Agatha seemed to have with Rio.

Agatha grew bored of this, not liking be judged or having cards trying to expose her in any way. She had been trying hard to keep that mask, that facade of a tough woman that cared for nothing other than herself.

She couldn't let a few stupid cards ruin that, and she wasn't going to let it happen.

"You know what, I think I will do it instead. My turn." She grabbed the card stack from Billy.

He tried to hold it back, but he was too slowly, and he quickly lost possession of it.

"Agatha," you started, feeling that this was about to turn into a really bad idea.

"Oh, don't you worry now. Tarot is a con like any other, remember?" She asked rhetorically, clearly not sharing your worries or caring about the rules. She never did. "There's no magic to it. There's no skill."

"That's not true." Billy argued. "It's about intuition.

Knowing which card to pull. And it's about interpretation, divining their meaning."

She paid him no mind as she grabbed one random card and placed it on top of the Chariot that he had pulled before.

Suddenly, one of the swords that was hanging from the ceiling was let loose. It pinned itself into the wooden floor, little too close to Billy for his liking.

You looked up with fearful eyes, losing count on how many swords were up there. Worse was the fact that they were so evently spread that it would be impossible to find a spot and be safe.

Agatha placed another card down and then another, clearly just doing it like that and not using any magic or intuition as one should.

She even cackled like a true evil witch as more and more swords started to fall, some closer and some further away from you.

"Agatha!" You called out her name as one sword landed too close to you, making your heart increase in beat at the fact that had you been stabbing one step to the left; you would not be alive and breathing right now.

Your shout made her stop, seeing you eyeing the sword with fear in your eyes. A quick check made her realize you were unharmed, and that was enough.

"Slow down! What is your problem?" Billy shouted, having moved from his chair to avoid a sword that almost hit him.

Agatha looked at the fearful duo. "This is a numbers game. We keep at it until we get the right cards in the right spots or the ceiling runs out of swords."

"This won't work, Ags," you said, shaking your head faintly to emphasise your disagreement.

"I'm not sure how much math you did back in Salem, but that will take forever." Billy argued.

"We still have some time."

"I wish Lilia was here."

And as if the Road had heard him, once again, it happened. The bookcase behind you was pulled open, and Jen with Lilia entered the room; their outfits also changed to fit the trial's theme and mood.

Jen had been affected the most with her evil queen hag outfit, coming along with grey big eyebrows and a nose; an enjoyable sight for you after all the times Jen's attitude had tested your pat

Lilia, on the other hand, seemed to be some sort of good witch based on her outfit; though you could not tell for sure.

What you could tell for sure was the fact that something was going on because Lilia was switching moods.

For example, how, at first, she said she was okay with Billy; holding no grudges, and then... she flipped.

She pointed a finger, harshly pressed against his chest. By instinct alone, Billy started to walk backwards, and Lilia simply kept advancing.

"Whoa! Ow! I thought we were cool!" He exclaimed, eyes daring to glance at you and Agatha for help.

"We are not cool, Teenager." Lilia said, surprising both Jen and Yoi.

"Damn, using his full name." Jen commented, and you nodded silently.

"She is definitely angry, " you commented next.

Lilia was always the calmest, even her threats being of a low tone; which was what was so unique about her.

This time, though, you could see the fire behind her eyes, and even you would not dare to stand in her way.

After all, one would be wise to fear the calm people when they stopped being calm. It was always them that held the most destructive rage.

Ironic, for the same had been told about you; at least until people realized you were never calm. You simply expressed your worry differently or passed phases when you were indiffirent to everything; the world around you sliding off your body and nothing capable of sticking on you.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you. You didn't deserve..." Billy started to apologize. "I wasn't hiding my power from you. I didn't know that I could... I'm not lying to you.

It was a surprise to me, too... if I'd have known, I would've..." he paused for a moment as his telepathic abilities started to work. "Yes, of course, I would have used it to save Alice."

Lilia looked at him, trying to study him behind her aged but expeencd eyes. "You're reading my mind." She picked up.

"Only because it's so loud. No offence." Billy offered a weak small smile to show he had no ill intentions.

"I don't want to ruin any reunions, but we need you, Lilia," you said, moving to stand close and use your hands to separate them faintly. "This is your trial, and either we do it right, or we can kiss our lives goodbye."

And as Lilia started to remember how she had met Billy before, as William; you chose to interfere.

Chapter 35:

[genericnam]

Yo yo, does anybody have any recommendtions for good western cartoons?

I watch some Anime, but it's generally not my preference, so please stick to cartoons.

I've already watched: Amphibia, Adventure Time (Fionna & Cake included), The Owl House, Gravity Falls, Over The Garden Wall, Avatar: The Last Airbender (and Korra), Wander Over Wonder, The Midnight Gospel, Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Hilda, Murder Drones, Centaurworld, The Amazing World of Gumball, The Ghost and Molly McGee, Ben 10, Phineas and Ferb, Kipo and the Age of the Wonderbeasts, Glitch Techs, The Amazing Digital Circus, We Bare Bears, Disenchantment, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power

Edits: Shows I forgot to list/have already started

Milo Murphy's Law, The Hollow, Invader Zim, The Last Kids on Earth, Miraculous Ladybug, Regular Show, Bee and Puppycat, Dead End: Paranormal Park, The Cuphead Show

[wyervan]

Hello! How are you doing?

I have some questions! feel free to answer only the ones you want and I also apologize if I ask something already anwered.

-How are they with their spanish?? have they got into it or just.. don'tcare

-Also what was their role on the circus? Im guessing like (kind of obvious) the jesters or acrobats but I'll like to read you!

-Do they have a kind of defense mechanism? Like avoiding, dinial, projection or some kind of?

-How Sun and Moon specifically meet? I think they are so so cute and even more with the "bits" of their relationship you'd been telling us :)

Also are you okay if I draw your yn Star?? Im doing some sketches and it's not a big deal but I rather ask.

Pleease don't be afraid to ramble about it. I love to read every detail that hides in your so shine brain. Thank you!

hi hi hi hi hi!

—They live/work in an area on the outskirts of a small city with a decent-sized Latino population. They are by no measure fluent but probably have picked up a few words. Spanish-speaking arcade goers are very common.

—I got some video research to do yet for specific examples of what their preformances looked like, but here’s the idea:

Moon did a lot of acrobatic and aerialist stunts! Trapeze, tumbling, balancing. I picture he moves like this rope aerialist while he practices (lookit how casual they are 🤩! Make it look effortless). Sun got involved for some duo acts.

They both did a lot of physical humor performance, clowning around 🤪. Sun did some balancing or acrobatics (though usually much closer to the ground than Moon). He liked to tell jokes, use props, talk to the crowd, do magic tricks involving Moon or audience members. Sun’s climatic act was knife juggling and throwing! We’re talking moving targets, balloons, with his eyes closed, directed at an apple sitting on top of Moon’s head 😋.

—Do they have defense mechanisms? Interesting question… answer really depends on the situation. But in general, the more stressed Sun is, the bigger and more strained that smile is gonna get. Denial, avoidance, compartmentalization, pretending like everything’s okay. At his worst, gaslighting himself and others.

Moon’s likely to get venomously sarcastic or shut down completely and ignore the issue when something’s bothering him. And it doesn’t take much more than that for him to get legitimately aggressive, lashing out verbally or physically, saying some real nasty things and punching walls-kinda behavior.

—Smoon met around 11-12ish. Came to live in the same house for a little while. Sun, who had been extremely sheltered and exclusively homeschooled up until that point, quickly became attached to Moon, especially after they started going to the same public school. Still hashing out the details of this part of their lives :3c.

—😭🥺 I would be honored if you or anyone wanted to draw Star! I never expect people to include them in their versions of the AU, so it’s very touching when anybody does ☺️. I have a pile of wips myself exploring their relationship with Smoon.

[marigold-hills]

the moon statue part 2

(part 1)

The man’s eyes are the pretty amber-gold of the perfect cup of tea Sirius hands him. Rich and deep. They changed from wolf-yellow slowly. The hatred stayed the same.

On the table between them Sirius puts down one of the sandwiches he brought with himself, an apple and a bar of muggle chocolate. Dairy Milk, his favourite.

“Run out of slabs of raw meat did you?” The man asks, eyeing the food with mistrust. “Or are you finally going to do away with me? Could of done better for the last meal.”

His hands are slender and fingers scar-torn and calloused. He picks up the chocolate and turns it to have a better look, the purple wrapper crinkling in his grip. “What’s this then?”

The man has a slightly odd accent and speaks the way Sirius never heard anyone speak before. Sirius found him in a Manor he didn’t even know existed. Somewhere no one has been in many, many years.

Only the fact that the man doesn’t recognise the instantly recognisable chocolate tips Sirius to just how long he must have been there.

He takes it from his hands and rips the packaging, breaks off a piece, then one for himself. Gives one to the man and eats the other. It’s a bit cold on his tongue but that’s how he likes it best - the moment it starts to melt in his mouth and coat him with flavour.

The man takes it, eats it. Sirius sees it, plain as day, the moment he truly tastes it.

“I’ve inherited the Manor,” he tells the man, part to clear the air part to clear his conscience. “This is the first time I’ve ever heard of you.”

The man lets out something like a scoff. Sirius breaks him off another piece of the chocolate.

“Dear old Lord Sirius finally kicked it then? My condolences. May the devil dance on his grave.”

Sirius is third of his name. Before him there were two, his great grandfather and a great uncle before that. He remembers they were both born in the 18 hundredths.

“My name is Sirius, too,” he tells him instead.

“Of course it is.” The man reaches for the sandwich with a brashness Sirius sees right through. His fingers are shaking. “All about the family line with you lot. Are you the nephew then? Heard he had one named after him.”

Sirius the first, then. Four generations. Dead a hundred years before Sirius was even born.

The man finishes the sandwich, eats the rest of the chocolate with a hesitant kind of curiosity. “I won’t go back in there,” he tells Sirius with a surety betrayed by the waver in his eyes. “You’ll have to kill me,” this. Said without falter.

“I wasn’t planning on putting you back in there.”

It’s clear the man doesn’t believe him, and Sirius can’t blame him. A hundred years as stone and before that, the company of an insane man.

“What will you do with me then? Opening a circus? Potion ingredients?”

“You’re free to leave. But once you see the world as it is now, you might not want to.”

Sirius can see the words unlocking the realisation. “How long?” The man asks.

Sirius tells him and the man doesn’t react. He’s holding the mug and it stays firmly in his hands. His eyes don’t widen nor do they narrow.

“Steep price, your uncle took for what he gave,” he finally says and Sirius remembers, from those long-ago lessons on his family history, that they used to do this - offer help to the needy for indentured service.

“What did you need?”

“I asked make it so I’m human at the full moons. Didn’t expect him to make me a wolf on the rest of the month.”

Careful what you wish for, Sirius’ mother used to say when he was a child. You never know what the cost will be.

Careful what you give, his father would add, magic is your birthright. Get a payment worth the work.

“I’ll take care of you,” Sirius says, knowing that the price was already paid.

“And in exchange?” The man has learnt his lesson. A hundred years too late, but he’s learnt it. Sirius thinks of the thousand full moons between then and now and the transformation on the cold stone floor.

“Nothing,” Sirius says. “Just your name.”

Eventually, by the morning, the man tells him. 

[hahahafangirl]

gotta put my thoughts down before i forget it but the thing that did it in for me is how spy x family is ultimately and uniquely a “children-focused” work, where the major stakes require that we pay attention to the lives and dynamics of young children so that — specifically — we have to genuinely engage with and invested in their inner lives, motivations, desires, thoughts, emotions, etc.

i think this is a very unique focus in the shounen sphere, where the audience and creators are centered about adolescent boys (the shounen genre, in its name) and thus have a very wide scope of focus that nonetheless has “aged” past “childhood”. usually media about children and childhood are sequestered in its own genre (children’s shows like doraemon, magical girl anime like precure series, etc.) aimed at a different target audience who are in the same demographic as the main characters in the shows. this is, obviously, not a bad thing. but i appreciate the “genre-breaking” focus that spy x family have because it inspires a sort of empathy to children, who are often not the most favorite group of people for the typical demographic of shounen readers, that is specifically vital in today’s climate. (can’t say much about japan itself, who historically has been dealing with declining birth rates, but oh i can speak for the american individualism— ironically where sxf is also very popular in) another thing about this is it’s drive home how intertwined the family life is, and should be. agent twilight and thorn princess’s plot-lines are clearly shounen-esque (a spy fighting for world peace, an assassin weeding out traitors) but they are nonetheless inextricable from the family- and anya-focused story, because by choice or circumstances they are anya’s parents. they’re a part of a larger societal fabric that embedded them in relationships to others — children being one of them. i think that’s pretty neat.

another thing, specially about the depiction of children in sxf: they are fictitious yet realistic enough to portray real children and inspire sympathy for them. a lot of asian home media in general have the problems of portraying young children as “problems”: annoying, loud, privileged, dumb, ungrateful, etc etc. these are such complaints about children that are unfortunately way too common and way too ungenerous and mean-spirited; none of these tropes are present, even in a media full of scions and heiress. complaints about them being brats (red circus bus hijacking arc) was rightfully framed as unsympathetic and unreasonable (they’re children! they can’t help where they were born into— it goes both ways.) i think the crux of this beautiful balance sxf struck in portraying nuanced, dynamics children is sympathy. they can be loud, they can be whiny, cry at the drop of a hat, has too much energy, gross, have bad grades, clingy, inconsistent, academically unmotivated, ran off randomly— and that’s fine, because we know why they do it, we are given space into their inner thoughts, something so rarely afforded to real life children at times. but they can be motivated, they want world peace, they want to have genuine friends, they want their friends to be happy, they have crushes, and most of all they love their parents and they love the people around them.

i think regardless of everything sxf is a work that understands that children are full of love and the majority of the things they do are out of love. i think that alone makes it incredible in the current socio-econo-political climate where sympathy is spared so little and humanity spreads so thin children barely gets what they deserve. i suppose that’s the sort of war we are entrenched in.

[senka-mesecine]

*rolls up sleeves*

I’d love to see some kidnapper!Barnes I know that’s a CRAZY first statement

But him being so used to slaughtering all of his victims and discarding them one after another, only to nab this woman one day that he ends up falling in love with and he becomes obsessed with her in a way he’s never felt before

Trophy Collecting.

Robert Barnes x Reader.

---

wonderful gif by @woman-with-no-name

---

― Thing is, nothing in life was ever given.

If a man wanted something, he to had to go on and take it.

Ain' gon' be served on a silver platter for him.

That's the conclusion that overpowers all other conclusions as the Captain gives him and 'Lias a good, stern talking to in tandem; promises of investigation hanging in the air like a swaying executioner's noose, the notion that there would be consequences if it's concluded there's been an illegal killing, that jailtime would be the final solution. Long Binh Junction. LBJ Ranch. Maximum security prisoners were housed individually in five foot by 7 foot sheet metal and wood boxes or in CONEX containers measuring 6 foot by nine foot --- a metal cage filled with low lives, junkies, spooks, mooks and rotten darnel best left sifted out from the rest of the wheat. Not even broken, overworked field mules transported to a stockade for slaughter after years of service by a meat butcher would be detained in conditions like that. So, what was he supposed to do? Allow one of his soldiers pinned up with a nail slammed through the heart, body hammered to the wooden post at the bend of the river, left like that, like a displayed, stuck animal and not immediately retaliate? Let them know that this is no way for an American soldier to be treated? That there would be consequences? That for any loss of his men, they'd take ten, twenty, a hundred of theirs in return? Suppose he did simply allow that? The general contempt. Do nothing about it? Tuck his tails between his legs? Who would ever respect this outfit, this infantry, this platoon ever again? Every pig herding jungle man, every limp wrist sack of shit civilian, every painted villager, every old man, every barefoot, bare ass woman or snot nosed child that they'd cross in their path would be throwing rocks at them bypassing every settlement from north to south simply because they'd have no fear of god in their hearts where they were concerned. And what's an army that's not feared, not respected? No better than a travelling circus full'a clowns in green fatigues, wanderin' from hooch to hooch, from outpost to outpost, from hut to hut doin' magic tricks for the natives. Might as well open a hen house next and start entertain' next.

So, Barnes had to take the fear himself; force it upon them.

Bring it to their doorstep, where those motherfuckers slept.

He thinks of you, he supposes, that entire stretch of time between the village incident (or rather, the stirrin' up of righteous justice) and filling 'Lias's body with lead, leavin' him for dead, abandonin' him to the fray, to silence him from ever snitchin' on him like the self-righteous weasel that shit-heel with no sense of military brotherhood and silence was; Thought of you and how this war has gone to the dogs. The minute a man couldn't wage it the way it ought to have been waged, the minute he was bogged down by needless rules, bureaucracy and nitpickin' from the moral police and men up in Washington who have never picked up anything heavier than a caviar spoon, conflicts were bound to be lost. And this shit? It was slippin' through his fingers more and more every day, he figures, after the smoke of battle has died down and the sack of shit Taylor boy has him in his crosshairs, threatenin' to go code red on his ass 'n shoot him even after Barnes has given him a direct order to just do it, only to watch the gutless coward turn his back and leave him alive. What was there left for him now? A promise of a court martial, the end of the war loomin', the prospect of all accolades, medals, titles and well earned badges he accumulated over the years lost in disgrace, stripped --- he looks at you, even as you dab away his bloodied body on the stretcher in your tent, givin' him stitches and injections for infections after they dragged him back in from the bush, torn up, muddied and as filthy as a rabid dog. This war would end and what would he have to show for it? Nothing but a collection of scars, a fresh, newly acquired bullet wound between his thigh and knee that he could go ahead and add to his vast and diverse assemblage of injures that would endow him with a limp for the rest of his life possibly, resentment and an empty, neglected old rickety cabin he was born in up in the Appalachians. He'd be a disgraced, partial handicap --- a semi-cripple with the face of a devil to top it all off.

A man couldn't be poor, ugly, angry, sick, lonesome, with a plate installed into his skull and having lost everything he's dedicated his adult life to all at the same time.

Wasn't right.

Had to have somethin' goin' for him at least --- pride demanded it.

― What if you returned with her? ― You an' the lil' woman you went'n'brought back from the war? ― The beaut. Your beaut. As sugary as pecan pie. ― The only purdy thing worth a damn you found out here.

The thought germinates and he measures it like fine chewin' tobbacco, pondering it.

Sure, he's collected severed human fingers before --- toes, pieces of skin.

Ears cut off from the lobe and shell of dead VC scouts sprawled on the jungle floor.

Molars and teeth pulled out during interrogation, worn as collectibles and trinkets.

The occasional scalp, the way the Injuns used to do it back in the days.

Captured equipment, belt buckles and bandoliers.

Never a full blown, live human before.

Not one who wasn't collected in the capacity of a POW, anyway.

It could be said you liked him back --- loved him the way he loved you, in that unassuming, understated way he enjoyed most --- silent, unspoken; he saw the manner in which you looked at him. The way you looked away too when you noticed that he noticed. The way you lavished him your attentions, writin' it off as mere professionalism. Care for care's sake, when nobody cared for anyone else as much as you cared for him unless there was feelings involved. Leavin' hot canteens on coffee next to his cot. Makin' him meals with the loyalty of a lil' housewife homemaker out here in the wilderness. Washin' his bedroll, fatigues and sheets with such diligence without needin' to be asked. Preferential treatment abound. Takin' a personal interest in sowing up ripped pieces of fabric he's worn so he wouldn't go 'round lookin' all raggedy. Tendin' to him the way a wife tends to a husband, quietly, makin' no fuss about it. Would it be desertion? It would be, yes. Abandonin' one's post. Neglecting the terms and conditions of one's tour. He'd be the first one to line up motherfuckers like that up against the wall and have them executed, no trial, no nothing, for failin' their country and honor bound duty. But, was there any duty to be had when one's government was preventin' one from winning a war they were all sent to? Drafted to? Volunteered to? He invested well over a decade into this shiet; invested his mangled face. His body riddled with bullets. His life. Wasn't that too a sort of betrayal? The notion he'd have more luck clearin' out these jungles, these villages, these settlements all on his own, with a limping gait, if he simply went renegade? With you in tow? Hell, he figured that if he downright asked you, you might even say yes, you and your googly eyes directed at him. And if a figurative jury ever caught him and questioned him why he did it? Because y'all left me no choice, he'd answer. Y'all took my machine and beat it with wrenches, ruinin' the damn thing and so I took myself and the one thing, one person still worth a damn and packed gear.

They'd have to catch you first, though, he reminds himself.

Waiting for you on the perimeters of the base camp.

Where the edges of a ramshackle civilization met with the overgrowth of the jungle.

He's killed before, so what's an abduction in comparison?

Burned, maimed and executed before, so what's a kidnapping?

Stared death right in the eyes, so why shouldn't he have the right to this, now?

He's earned the right.

Bled for it. Put in years for it.

To take what he wants. Who he wants. When he wants.

If the army wasn't goin' to reward his efforts, he'd reward himself.

It was either that or death.

-"Oh, sir!"-

You're startled, gasping spotting him in the overgrowth of the forest, ambushed without entirely realizing you're being ambushed, a twig cracking beneath your careless steps as you press your fingers to your collarbone, jumpy and taken aback by his presence --- his firearm is lifted; if you didn't know any better you could very well assume he was standing watch on perimeters. In fact, anyone who'd accidentally stumble upon the sight would think the same. The only unnatural thing about his presence here was that he was strapped and ready. Rucksack on his back. Helmet on his head. Weapons loaded and sharpened. He was ready to go. -"It's you."- You sigh after a moment or two, seemingly relieved, cracking a tiny half-smile to which he, as if on cue, lowers the barrel of his M16. Of course it's him. Like he'd ever allow anyone get this close to you out in the wilderness. Anyone but himself. -"Oh, goodness, you scared me. You blend in so well, I didn't even notice you."- You approach him tentatively, all friendly like, your shoulders dropping --- bless your heart, you thought this was an accidental, spontaneous encounter; one he didn't plan when all of it was premeditated. The time was now. There was talk of Saigon fallin'. Talk of them pullin' out of country. Dismantlin' bases. Givin' the fuck up. Processin' who they percieved as war criminals. Packin' them up in jails here and there and everywhere. Well, he wasn't gonna let that happen. He was goin' out there. Into the wild frontier, taking down as many gook motherfuckers as he could while the war still lasted, makin' them pay for every boy lost and then he was settlin' down somewhere with you in tow 'cos he wanted to have something to look at every mornin' and think, goddamn, that's pretty prey I came back from 'Nam with. You look him up and down, no doubt worried that he was already out and about, what with his injuries and all and Barnes almost wondered how long it'll take for you to figure it out. What this was. That you should take one last good look at the edges of the fenced off base behind his back, obscured by foliage and trees 'cos that'll be the last you'll be seein' of that place. -"You shouldn't be out here with that leg, Sergeant, all due respect."- Tenderness and care seeps from the precipice of your mouth and by then, his weapon is almost entirely lowered and he just looks at you; takes it in --- the blissful unawareness. You bein' as sweet as a peach. Was it bad if he coveted that? The deep silence of a one sided conversation causin' you unease and you stutter, momentarily wary, uneasy, looking around the forest like you were expectin' a Sasquatch to jump out at you any second.

-"Something the matter?"-

You manage, muttering, scratching your forearm nervously.

There was plenty of daylight left.

Barnes figured that with the right pace, he could make good progress with you.

Be out of sight by nightfall --- be swallowed by the jungle with the first darkness.

He could go for as long as he had to go, just livin' off the bare land itself.

Huntin' for you, feedin' you, takin' good care of you, lookin' after you.

You'd be losin' your post here 'n gainin' yourself a husband.

Was that such a lousy trade to make?

Not with how this war was bein' run it wasn't.

They were all lookin' at him like he was off his rocker with the Taylor boy fillin' everyone's ears with snake venom and soon, they'd start lookin' at you the same way too simply for bein' occasionally kind to him. For tendin' to his wounds. Removin' the bullet of his thigh. Carin' to wipe the sweat off his brow. For occasionally sittin' down and havin' coffee with him. That was just reality. Not that he wanted anyone's approval, but he sure as heck didn't intend to be looked down on by gutless pieces of shit who ain' gone through what he's gone through, who had what to return to, who could hang up their cap with a sense of rightness and sleep relatively peacefully at night. Life forces'ya to choose sides eventually and you too had to choose --- you had to choose what he chose for you. Unlike these lump of shit motherfuckers at least he loved'ya the best way he knew how. He lifts the barrel of his firearm up again, shifting it into position, aimin' it back at you. Could've called this a plain ol' abduction, sure, why not. He wasn't gon' go 'n run from the fact. Wasn't gon' go and dodge the facts of life neither. He was gonna take you whether you wanted to or not. You knew him well 'nough to understand that he could.

That he intended to.

That it was either this or puttin' a cap in you and then himself.

Crawling to your dead body and holdin' you dyin'.

Ensurin' he has you that way if no other route was in the cards.

-"You reckon we ought to go out, have ourselves a stroll down west 'n' then jus' keep goin'?"-

He drawls as tenderly as he can muster, makin' a suggestion --- a lil' proposal.

Your lips part, perplexed, but no words come forth as your lashes flutter wildly.

You take no steps back, no steps forth either, legs firmly locked in place.

Like you were considerin' it without even realizing.

Your body language givin' you away.

Seems like the gravitas of the situation hits you right 'bout then.

-"Jus' us two?"-

He adds with a sense of finality, his barrel gesturing deeper into the jungle.

Neither of you stickin' around in that particular place for long.

Not even a minute passes and his whole hand is coiled around your wrist.

Guidin' you into the shadowed bosom of the woods, never to be seen again.

― Thing is, nothing in life was ever given.

If a man wanted something, he to had to go on and take it.