#apparently a transformer exploded?

[bearjam]

Working on my fanficion and I hear a pop. All of the power just went out. Adios to my work.

[silverskye13]

[hears a loud explosion in the distance]

Oh, huh. I sure hope that wasn't important.

[hears like an absolute shit ton of sirens.]

:) Oh, huh. :) I sure hope :) that wasn't important :)

[earthspark-shockwaves-reduction]

when the cassettes escaped megs and OP and the decoy ravage was looking for soundwave and frenzy said "you don't have to follow him anymore!" or smth and it gave off the Slight but Very Troubling Implication that Soundwave treats the cassettes more like minions and tools and not his Itty Bitty Kiddies (and Actual Kitty) that Live in his Tiddies that he'd do anything for

[tragedybunny]

Astarion head cannon! If your tav has any artistic ability (or none and is learning) imagine if he found you drawing his face a bunch to try get a good image of him to share. Pre act 2 where he believes you actually love him and he loves you. Just seeing this person doing something purely for him confusing and scaring hin but feeling too nice to want to run from.

So I had to turn this into a little story, it was too good.

What The Heart Sees - Astarion x F!Reader

You've been acting suspicious and Astarion is going to get to the bottom of it.

You'd been acting ever so slightly strange around him. He hasn't put the pieces together yet, but Astarion knows something is going on with you. The thought fills him with a little dread, he's worked so hard to get you on his side, to have someone to keep the others from turning on him. Now it might all be slipping through his fingers. 

Whatever was happening, he needed to bring it to a halt and get you back to your regular sweet devotion to him. The first step was interrogating your companions. Lae'zel and Shadowheart of course saw nothing wrong with your behavior. "Maybe she just needs a rest from your fangs at her neck," Shadowheart snipped and Astarion considered giving her neck a try one night before stomping away. 

Gale and Karlach at least confirmed his suspicions. As usual Gale was too worried about exploding to be much help, but Karlach, dear Karlach tried to be helpful. "We're all going through a lot. Maybe she's just tired Fangs." So, there was something going on with you, but no one seemed to have any clue. Maybe the Mind Flayer transformation was actually happening just very slowly, he shuddered at the thought. 

This situation clearly called for some less wholesome tactics. Stealth and spying on you, for now, maybe violating your trust and rummaging through your stuff as well. That night he crept to your tent after everyone had retired, there was still the faint glow of a light spell illuminating it. His intent had been to stop and listen, see if could find an angle to glance in that wouldn’t expose himself. Quietly, he made it near the entrance, perfect, you were unawares. There was a book cradled in your lap. Perhaps you’d found some arcane knowledge you were unwilling to share. He hadn’t thought you were power hungry, but maybe he’d misjudged. Reaching over, you picked up a piece of charcoal. Interesting, he leaned forward. “Woof.” Scratch was on top of him, wagging his tail, and he was laying the dirt outside your tent. 

You jump up, clearly startled, and he wanted to gut the stupid beast. But he saw where you tucked that precious book as you leapt up. “Astarion!” You were standing at the opening of the tent, looking down at him with concern. 

“Hello my Sweet,” he tries his best to still somehow be charming while pushing Scratch off him. “I uh, saw you were up and wanted to check on you but Scratch is apparently in a playful mood.” 

“Oh Scratch! You haven’t had enough attention huh?’ You reach out to pet the mongrel and talk softly to him as Asatrion pushes himself out of the dirt. “I was just reading, sorry to disturb you.” 

“No worries Darling,” he gives you a perfunctory peck on the cheek before heading back to his tent. It was all working out anyway. 

The next night comes and he’s ready, Scratch has given him quite a bit of inspiration. Discreetly Astarion leads the heap of fur to the edge of the camp, the ball he had dragged in from somewhere tucked in a pocket. “Come here Scratch,” he hisses, waving it around, getting his attention before chucking it off into the woods. The animal follows excitedly. Astarion isn’t sure where it went and he doesn’t care. Scratch is more a rival for your attention than anything else anyway. 

After a couple of minutes he finds you at the campfire, blissfully unaware. “Has anyone seen Scratch,” he asks, as innocently as he can manage. 

“Oh no,” your eyes quickly scan the campsite, “he must have wandered off.” You seem so distressed, he almost feels guilty. But this is his survival on the line. “Maybe I should go look for him.” 

“Do take Halsin my Dear, he’ll have the best chance at tracking,” and one less person around camp to watch. 

“Right,” you nod, standing and trodding off to the Druid. 

No sooner are you gone then Astarion is creeping into your tent when no one is looking. No light needed, he sees everything perfectly, including the little pack you shoved your book in last night. Victory. He wrests it from the spot under your pillow and plops down on your blankets to study it. What forbidden knowledge rests inside. The worn cover flips open to…

Sketches, sketches of him specifically. Not that he remembers what he looks like, but the clothes give it away, along with the poses, moments he remembers. Him, you’ve been drawing him. He continues to flip through the book, more bits of him, frozen in time, and the technique improves. Why are you doing this? The mirror, he remembers, being upset about not seeing his reflection. 

Sitting there in stunned silence, he feels an unpleasant weight in his chest. No one has ever done anything like this for him before. It’s…kind. Not that you’ve ever been any other way to him ever. Gods, what is he even doing, maybe he should just…

“Astarion!” Slamming the book shut, he jumps up. “Hello Darling, I-”

“You ruined the surprise,” you scold, looking so dejected he somehow feels worse than he did a moment ago. 

“I’m sorry, I was curious. I saw you with it the other night. It’s amazing though,” he tries to placate, guilt an emotion he’s buried for so long, but fear is there as well. Fear he’s crossed a line you won’t tolerate. 

Bending down, you retrieve the book from where it landed. “I was hoping to get something I was pleased with to show you, but I suppose it will have to do for now.” 

“Really, you shouldn’t bother so much with it,” you look up at him so sadly he quickly adds, “you do too much for me already. But I do appreciate this gift.” Impulsively he pulls you close and kisses you quickly before letting you go. “Is this really what you see? 

“That and so much more.” The way you stare at him with adoration, the way you always treat him so sweetly, the way he suddenly wants nothing more than to stand here in this tent forever, basking in you, it’s all becoming too much, he could almost swear he had a pulse to hammer in his veins. Hells, what has he gotten himself into with you? 

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Vampire AU

ghoap x F!reader (in third person)

Johnny accidentally turning a random girl and begging Simon to keep her

"Please stop yelling," she asked, rubbing her temples. Her head was throbbing. It was too bright, too loud, too smelly. Her boyfriend was yelling about her not being ready to leave for date night. A nice reservation at one of the new up and coming restaurants. It was hard to get apparently. "Just go without me."

Near tears you curled up in bed, kicking your shoes off while you dress bunched up by your hips. Eyes shut so tight it looked staticy. Your hands clamped down over your ears.

He grabbed your wrist, yelling and yelling.

"Get up!" He demanded, shoving a pill into your palm. "I'm not missing dinner because your pmsing."

Always so dismissive. The pain was spreading down your neck to your spine and around your ribs to your chest. Your bones were caving in on themselves, turning to dust in your body. You cried out, choking on tears and phlegm. You'd had intense period cramps, thrown up so hard blood vessels in your eyes popped, had your foot run over by a car, broken a bone or two - this was worse.

You were dying. It didn't just feel like it. Your brain was screaming that it was dying. An intense feeling of dread.

He was at least acting concerned now. Saying he would take you to a hospital if it was that bad. Your eyes opened to black spots blocking out much of anything. The setting sun burned your skin.

"Close the blinds," you begged. Snot bubbled at your nose while spit stained the comforter.

"I'm right here." He knelt down next to the bed. "We just need to get you to the car."

He grabbed your wrist again.

Your teeth sunk into something chewy. You bit down harder and it exploded like gummy candy - filling your mouth with sweet liquid. You drank down and down. Horrified sobs and cries came from somewhere beyond you. You couldn't tune into listen anymore.

A solid drum beat that got quieter and more erratic was all you could hear.

Simon had ripped Johnny a new one. Biting some random drunk bird and letting her go off without finishing what he started. Scared off by Simon's own call for him. She disappeared before they could kill her. If they couldn't find her their only hope was that the transformation killed her. For her to burn to death when the sun rose. He didn't have the time or patience to babysit another newborn. Johnny was already a year old but still impulsive with an inflated ego that comes with immortality.

They had spent the rest of that night trying to track her back down. Simon would drain her if he had to. Reduce her to a whimper. Night two had similar luck. The city was too big for them to cover. He refused to call Price or Gaz for back up. Johnny would need to fix his fuck up himself.

Simon had smelled it first. A quiet nudge and they turned down a side street. It was a nicer neighbourhood. Up the fire escape. Johnny broke the latch on the window.  

They found her in the bedroom. On her hands and knees in a bloody dress curled up in the corner, knees to her chest. Blood dripping from her new fangs. Eyes filled with delirium.

She scrambled like a fawn when she heard Simon’s boot creak. A baby animal with no instinct, left to fend for itself. She'd be easy to kill.

"I...I didn't mean to." She sobbed. "I don't...I don't know what happened."

Johnny grabbed his arm.

"She's quiet pretty." He raised an eyebrow.

"No."

"Be nice to have around."

"No, Johnny."

"I'd let you fuck her first. Even though she's mine." He grinned.

Simon looked down at her. He could still end this. Not give in. Rip her head off right here, set the flat ablaze. Disappear like any other night. They'd call it a murder suicide. Lover's quarrel.

Johnny's teeth tugged on his ear lobe.

"Don't say no till you taste 'er."

She was pretty.

[thenamesblurrito]

so. Transformers ONE was a good movie

i HIGHLY recommend going in blind, i do think it's incredibly effective with as few spoilers as possible beforehand! seeing it on the big screen is really really nice too, i encourage you to watch it in theaters without reading up on it first if you can!

long full-spoiler review and dissection of elements below (i reached the text block limit a couple times oops):

general stuff:

gorgeous. just genuinely visually gorgeous. so many details, colors, textures, everything was so beautiful. the stylization itself may not be my favorite but it was executed so well that i ended up loving it. their optics! their colors! their movement! the way the visuals serve the lore and the story is extremely well done too, i felt like everything i was seeing was deliberate, relevant, and a treat for the audience instead of just "ooo visual noise look at how powerful our cgi rendering is" (which is how i felt about the "live action" Lion King prequel(????) ad they showed before). all the little cameos and repaints and everything in the background? mwah. GORGEOUS MUSIC TOO AAAA THE WAY THAT TFP'S MOTIF IS IN THERE AAAA

the visual effects and action, the way they USED their roboticness/transformation sequences/vehicle modes in fighting and moving and emoting, it was VERY GOOD. Orion grabs a Death Tracker and RIPS THEM INTO PIECES BY TRANSFORMING AROUND THEM AND FORCING THEIR FRAME TO SHATTER. insanity

this is ABSOLUTELY the origin story movie the fandom has wanted. even if it wasn't your preferred origin story, this movie SHONE with love and respect for the franchise and drew on so many influences to craft a powerful version of the beginning we all wanted to see

in some ways i wish we had more, i think it would've been extremely effective to see things expanded upon, especially D-16's emotional descent and maybe some more Quints. actually looking at the content and pacing of the movie though, and the audience it's aimed at, i don't think there's anything they should've cut in favor of other stuff. i understand why it wasn't dwelt on more, but hooooo i would've liked to see Dee breaking apart a little more thru the middle of the film. apparently the novelization has more scenes of this and i would love to read it

i had so much fun watching this movie. it was a rollercoaster. it was a TREAT. i was sitting there enjoying every second both times i saw it because it was a good film that rewarded me greatly for being a Transformers fan, giving me so many easter eggs and injokes, while also being perfectly understandable and fun for a complete newbie. excellently balanced appeal to old and new fans alike

there was no wink to the audience about how stupid and childish a movie about robots is, there was no lampshading of how silly sci fi is, there was no betrayal of the emotional tone of the film. so many stories now kneecap themselves by mocking their very concept, and the audience watching them, in a very cinema sins-style irony poisoned way. this movie never does that. its humor is fitting, its drama is real, its emotion is all SINCERE and i love how i was never mocked by any part of the movie for engaging with it sincerely

this movie loved being a Transformers movie

anyways. specific stuff:

love how Wheeljack managed to explode everything despite not even being a scientist. he's just THAT good

THE INJOKES AND REFERENCES. "you don't have the touch OR the power." calling them Gobots. the corny More Than Meets The Eye bits. "don't be a glitch" is a headcanon swear i've been using for years now and they canonized it!! "High Guard, eject". "paging doctor Ratchet." the new take on "all are one". the really interesting way that the term Transformers is an actual significant in-universe name, and how Orion and Dee ARE NOT Transformers at first!

the sheer number of cameos is ASTOUNDING. what an excellent mix of masc/fem designs too, they really made it normal on this Cybertron which i appreciate! apparently Blurr exists here, his name was on the leaderboard!!!!!! good job Chromia i am so proud of you for winning. and the shots of the bots getting cogs at the end was aaAAA!!! <<33 my HEART! Jazz's little smile looking at his new doorwings!!

I GOT ALL MY SILLY OLD DEMIGOD FAVES I GOT THE THIRTEEN EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM AAAAAA ALPHA TRION MY GRANDPA god i'm so sorry you're dead but i can't believe you showed up on the big screen <<333 you and your rockin rhino unicorn lion alt mode. and your superpowers. god you're so cool. "old timer" NUH UH HE'S STILL BETTER THAN YOU!!!!! using Zeta for the thirteenth was an interesting choice! i did think he was Overlord for a hot second. it's the lips. Solus wasn't fridged by virtue of everyone else died too yippee!! ALSO MEGATRONUS THE COOLEST ONE WOOOO HES NOT JUST A FIERY EVIL GUY!!!!

the way Dee himself was, in a way, the Fallen of this continuity.... 😭

the way Sentinel was handcrafting his downfall with each touch of the blowtorch. carving the sigil of the Decepticons into the one who will kill him. dooming Cybertron in a moment of petty mockery. AND HE DOESN'T EVEN DRAW IT WELL IT'S LIKE A MESSY CRAYON DRAWING CMON

planetformer Primus in a blockbuster movie? CANONICAL EXPLICITLY STATED PLANETARY ROBO MPREG BIRTH IN THE FIRST FIVE MINUTES???? THEY USE THE WORD BIRTH. BORN. we are never escaping the reproductive insanity in this franchise

Shockwave you whiny tantrum throwing wuss. let Elita beat him up more. it's good for him. also love how that could be construed as a ref to her G1 resistance force

CASUAL MIND READER SOUNDWAVE???????

Elita was perfect, no notes. i would not like her if i met her but i respect her so much. she really is better in every way and down to business. Best First indeed

so much cool implications and fascinating timeline confusion. 50 cycles since the Primes were slaughtered? the way Sentinel leveraged their reputation to make himself beloved, casting himself as their peer? the way he didn't choose to villainize them, the way he apparently openly admitted to the loss of the Matrix and how it impacted the planet? when did cog theft start, and how old is Orion since in the novelization it states his entire generation is cogless? who remembers the og Primes? who is in the know about it all?? hoooghhghhh fascinating.

the implication that the High Guard worked with the og Primes?? the possibility STARSCREAM was a loyal guard for Cybertron's DEMIGODS????

okay i was not expecting a backstory for STARSCREAM'S VOICE in this movie but holy. god. the shippers will be going insane over this one. hoogh holy fit. what is wrong with you. the utter contradiction of being both an instigator and a coward when he gets in over his head and immediately backpedals

also obviously this is the I Love Divorce movie and megop shippers will be having a field day but i DEEPLY appreciate just how solid a friendship Dee and Orion have and how badly they fall apart, even thru a strictly platonic lens. i also appreciate how there was no forced comphet attraction/romance!! i was dreading the possibility of it, i mean Oplita was RIGHT THERE but they didn't force it at all thank youuuuuu. i would rather have this dynamic with its zero intended romance than awkward, OOC attraction shoehorned in to detract from the plot

Bee was actually good! like yeah he's def the kid appeal character and i prefer it when he's in a younger gen and not OP's peer, but he was wayyyyy less annoying than i was expecting! i think he fit the movie and did his job in it well, and i absolutely laughed at him multiple times. "i get to work for the GOVERNMENT! :DDDD" bee. please. the fact that he's been going insane and desperate after isolation for so long really helps make his character work instead of being just irritating

Airachnid you are so cool. you are TOO COOL. PLEASE TONE DOWN YOUR COOLNESS. i adore how she is not good at facial expressions thank you evil autism moments. love how her signature move is stabbystabbystabbystabbystabbystabby

Sentinel. god. Sentinel. SENTINEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i need to draw him getting ripped in half. it's like they distilled the worst parts of every single iteration and combined them into a SuperBad version. horrifically realistic kind of guy. i love to hate him. real Metro Man from Megamind energy. and megachurch pastor energy. the IRONY that Orion and Dee were probably actually helping him, that he was probably being genuine in the medbay when he said he loved what they did by racing, that he may have been honest when he said he was gonna have them fixed up in his own facilities and had them tour the mines! because them racing increased energon production by 150% and Sentinel needed that!!! he needed that for the Quintessons!!! i think he was being genuine when he first met Dee and Orion and then Darkwing ruined everything!!!

Darkwing is the curly straw of this continuity

the Quintessons were hoooooooooooooooo. whoooooooooogh. hoohhhhhhhhhhhh. the biomechanical. the shapes. the textures. eugh. icky. creepy. excellent. the way their ships looked like the Nemesis. the way they're STILL a looming threat. i wanted to see more of them but i get why the movie wasn't about them. i hope we see more in the future

the way Orion is the kind of guy who, in an attempt to be selfless, keeps making selfish or thoughtless decisions was SO INTERESTING. it set up the dynamic of his and Dee's friendship very well, with Orion always wanting the best for his buddy but ultimately overwriting or ignoring what Dee says!! the way Dee clings to the social contract of protocol for safety because that's all he knows and his ANGER when it's broken, even when it's Orion breaking it, because that's not SAFE it's an UNKNOWN it has CONSEQUENCES WHEN YOU DEVIATE. and then it's revealed that the social norms have been a lie the whole time and Sentinel has "broken protocol" more than ever and Dee has no safety left because it was always broken. Orion wanted to be more, he could feel there was more. Dee just wanted security

Dee spent so much of the movie complaining and arguing and it was very funny and good characterization but it was also a hint at how much bitterness was under there the whole time. so much of his complaints were threats of violence. he always had Orion's back and then when he learns the truth he abruptly. stops. do you notice he doesn't really have Orion's back after this? he's no longer by his side? he's there, but he's not... there. he was the first to shoot an enemy and took joy in it. all of his emotions were so justified and then what he does with them is what makes it a tragedy. he didn't have to do this. augh

i really, really like the fact that they managed to pull off the ending without it fully turning into a "boohoo if we do anything violent we're as bad as the bad guys waaaa". the specific phrasing of "rebuilding cannot start with an execution" went HARD. and it's demonstrated in their actions too like, Dee was out for REVENGE and it was PERSONAL, Orion was fighting for JUSTICE and it was UNIVERSAL. Sentinel was beaten, everyone knew the truth. it was over. but Dee in his (very justified!) anger and broken trust was too overcome to back down. they were given the power to change their worlds, but Dee was thinking only of his world. Orion was thinking of everyone

ironic that as soon as Orion starts thinking of other people and considering what they need instead of forging ahead, Dee decides to center his own feelings and actions to the point of murder. even after Sentinel was dead, he just kept shooting, he did NOT AT ALL care that some of those shots were clearly hurting innocent civilians/going wide and shooting out into the city/damaging actual important infrastructure and not just Sentinel statues. i believe it's Bee who said "he's gonna kill everyone" and he proves it by attacking Elita and saying "I won't stop until every last one of his followers is dead". THE FACT THAT HE FELL SO FAR AS TO SEE ELITA, HIS PEER AND FELLOW FREEDOM FIGHTER WHO WAS THERE WORKING AGAINST SENTINEL WITH HIM FROM THE START OF THIS QUEST, AS ONE OF SENTINEL'S FOLLOWERS.... by the end of it, Dee really was nothing but blind anger

and the way kneeling was a common thread!!!!! aaaaaaa. Sentinel betrayed the world by kneeling to the enemy. Dee won respect by refusing to kneel. Orion gained followers by willingly kneeling to his peers. hooghh

Orion jumping and stumbling and falling this whole movie because he just THROWS himself into things because he BELIEVES in things, he's the one to take leaps of faith, to take that step out into the unknown! and Dee refusing to save him as one final nail in the coffin, so clearly feeling like Orion jumping in front of the blast was yet ANOTHER way Orion is forcing his hand, corralling him into doing something he thinks is best but did not consult him on, finally FINALLY saying NO and leaning in to the tragedy!! and in the exact same way Sentinel handcrafted his enemy in Dee, Dee has now handcrafted his enemy in Orion!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA and now that Orion took that last leap of faith and fell, now is when he RISES. ONE SHALL FALL AND ONE SHALL RISE. god. it reminds me of Spiderverse, the way they use falling and rising

the way the tragedy is worse for how well everyone was working together.... for one shining moment, the miners and the High Guard, the rescue mission, it was going so well. they were doing it. they were winning. it didn't have to turn to slaughter. if there was to be an execution it should've been by trial, by the voice of the people, not Dee deciding for Cybertron as Sentinel decided what truth was. augh.

in an abruptly different note, the way they have characters move and fly is so cool. i love the jetpacks. i love how flight is not "flyer" exclusive. it's fascinating and i think really fitting for the general city of Iacon itself. all those towers going up and down

THE TRAINS!! THE MOVING ROADS!! HOW COOL IS THAT!! LOOK AT THAT WORLDBUILDING IM OBSESSED WITH THIS CYBERTRON HOOGH. this movie was VERY good at building a rich, functional world of detail and making it very alien in a way i want to chew on forever. the moving mountains and greebled energon mines. the living planet. the deer!!! ooghghh. PRIMUS LOOKS LIKE A STAR

i do like this Primus actually, yeah it was a deus ex machina but that's the POINT. Optimus himself is an act of god and his presence heralds miracles. Dee couldn't bring justice to Cybertron because justice is restoration. justice is healing what was hurt and doing right by the wronged. yes that often means consequences upon the perpetrator but that's NOT what Dee was doing, he wasn't even THINKING of anyone else!! would killing Sentinel get ppl out of the mines? would it restore their cogs? would it bring equality to a clearly oppressive society? like he LIVED this (cogless bots with limited options, the talk of tiers as if they are social castes you can be demoted from, lower city levels where ppl can be banished, etc) but it was Orion who ultimately addressed this. i'm sorry if it feels like insult to injury to rub his Primacy in your face, Megatron, but stealing a cog just like Sentinel and declaring the age of Primes over, when it was the age of Primes ending that made you cogless and oppressed in the first place, is only an extension of your trauma, anger, and violence, and is not solving the problem!

a cog stolen from him at birth! and then he steals it from Sentinel in symbolic revenge, stolen again, but even that wasn't Sentinel's, it was stolen too! the way he discards the cog from Onyx, willingly gifted to him, to continue the trend of desecrating the dead! man. MAN. the name he took, the cog he took, the symbol he took, all from his hero, the one he looked up to, the coolest Prime, and THEN DECLARED THE AGE OF PRIMES OVER

the gilded pompous showmanship of it all was so gross, the way Sentinel's face was everywhere, the way he had instant access to everyone in Iacon via announcements that took over the media. but this was clearly derived from the previous Primes!! we see their statues, we see their stately tower, and unless Sentinel had all that built in "mourning" (which is totally plausible imho) he was really just setting himself up as an inheritor of that hyperwealthy standard! we don't know anything about the rule of the og Primes beyond that they're favorably remembered and loved (possibly because of propaganda but i think it was also genuine) and that they may have been losing the Quint war (considering that info was from jerkwad supreme i find it suspect) but just by comparison to Sentinel i think they HAD to be better rulers. there weren't cogless bots forced to mine for 20 shifts in a row back then!!! Sentinel is stealing their aesthetic as if that gets him the same power and acclaim. he's trying to steal their legitimacy. he paints himself across the face of Iacon to hide the fact the planet itself went into a coma because of him. he has ALWAYS been rejected. i call him a megachurch pastor but really symbolically i could say he's a fallen angel, and his visual design really fits too

i'm coming back to the deus ex machina thing bc i know it may be considered weak in a plot construction sense but i want to engage with it as literal. like, there is a literal in-universe god in the machine. they know it. they worship it, at least a little bit. i would consider this story to be analogous to Prince of Egypt, in that the deific is a real and tangible character with impact on the plot, and not a meta excuse to save the day. Orion made his choice, and as a result Primus made HIS choice. it's not necessarily a happy ending but if even Megatron acknowledges that GOD mandated this guy to be a Prime and the planet itself responds by COMING BACK TO LIFE.... i keep thinking of it like a cityspeaker, how they're the ones who commune with Titans to know their needs and tell them what needs to be done. is a Prime just the cityspeaker of Cybertron, able to help it remain healthy and functional?

the divine right to rule is REAL on Cybertron. you can like it or not but you have to contend with that when discussing fair leadership, political accountability, and representation of the masses re: Cybertronian government and Primacy

god i'm still so obsessed with the Thirteen i need to see them better i need to look at them. i love them. insane. i really need to invest in a chewtoy

also i know it may be a throwaway line but i'm very curious why Primus had to transform and sacrifice himself to save the universe. Unicron, maybe???

also how did Alpha Trion narrate the archival stuff telling the fake story of how the Primes died and the Matrix was lost. did Sentinel get a deepfake of his voice?? is that part of how he made the transition to power?? AUGH THE DISRESPECT KEEPS COMPOUNDING

Alpha Trion. my blorbo. my old man. holding you so tight. like an ancient rescue dog. im gonna groom you and give you treats and buy the biggest plushest dog bed from costco for you

anyways

good movie, guys

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 408: Orphaned Cryptid to Billionaire Supervillain

Previously on BnHA: HE WAS BORN AN ARROGANT BABY.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi decides he’s going to cover the rest of the AFO/OFA saga in the span of just seven pages, the majority of which are mostly just filled with lovingly detailed closeups of AFO and Kudou’s eyes. Back in the present day, Kid For One takes a couple of seconds to trample the last of the “Kacchan is OFA II or is related to OFA II” theories into the dust, and is then all “fuck it, I’ll just take him out with one last spectacularly grotesque supermove.” Kacchan is all “lol you fucking dipshit”, and he says it with such confidence that it truly makes me believe he can defeat AFO’s “ALL THE QUIRKS EVER!!” attack with his piddly little exploding bloodsweat quirk. AND IT WILL BE A SIGHT TO SEE.

interesting!

Yoichi’s name btw is written with the kanji 与 which means “bestow” or “give”, and 一 which means “one.” so basically “one who gives”, which is fitting as the creator of OFA, but also fits in with this new context of being the first “possession” bestowed upon AFO

oh yes and also AFO I guess has just torn his brother to shreds or something too. idk. I’m going to be honest with you guys, this panel has such a surreal vibe that I just sat here blinking stupidly at it and wasn’t even shocked or anything. like what. is he dreaming this?? or did he really just make a “STOP! IN THE NAAAAME OF LOVE” gesture and in doing so remove half of his brother’s jaw

ewww

idk what’s wrong with me today guys. AFO just disintegrated Yoichi, and Kudou and and OFA Tres (who apparently still doesn’t have a name???? freaking Kudou got named before you??) are literally RIGHT THERE and presumably horrified, and all I can think about is how fucking gross it is that they’re all hanging out in a fucking sewer

oh shit y’all it’s about to go down

he can’t kill Kudou right off the bat can he? does Kudou even know he has OFA yet? are we going to see him transfer it to OFA III? I’m so fucking excited omg

LOL WHAT

“weirdly matte” omg. so apparently he’s like All Might, where the “he’s just drawn differently” thing is something people actually acknowledge in-story. “yeah he actually has no pupils. that’s a real thing. technically that should mean he can’t see since pupils are what let light into your eyes, but don’t worry about that part. just know that his eyes canonically look weird to the story people as well, and everyone is creeped out by it, not just you”

yeah he’s actually blind

so he literally can’t see outside himself. way to lay those metaphors on thick, Horikoshi

(ETA: this is my “just in case my impeccably dry wit doesn’t translate well across the internet” ETA to assure everyone I know he’s not actually blind lol.)

now we’re cutting to some random city where AFO is broodingly staring at Yoichi’s severed hand because he’s perfected the art of always doing incredibly unsettling things

I cannot believe the fucking hands thing has an actual origin story. of course it does. this man has never done a single hinged thing in his life. it’s all unhinged or bust. am I talking about AFO or Horikoshi? YOU DECIDE

he’s sitting at a table with a bottle of wine holding his dead brother’s embalmed severed limb and thinking about fucking quirk shit

so your transformation from Orphaned Cryptid to Billionaire Supervillain happened almost completely offscreen huh. I’m kinda disappointed, ngl. I could have read a few more chapters about that. maybe a spinoff miniseries

WAIT WHAT

are you serious. we finally get a panel that’s INCREDIBLY RELEVANT to pretty much ALL OF MY BNHA THEORIES, only for that same panel to contradict itself ONE SPEECH BUBBLE LATER?? so what is the truth???

omg omg omg

so many fucking questions, omg. what the hell does “through research” even mean. how did he confirm Yoichi’s quirklessness, and why did he later change his mind? how the fuck can Yoichi have a quirk factor and yet not have an actual quirk. “it was just so weak it didn’t count or something I guess” okay??? how much of this is unreliable narrator vs. the word of god? how is it we’re getting so many answers and yet all I have is more fucking questions you guys

BRUE?CE?CEE??!

bruce

Kudou is so goddamned hot. I hope you washed the hell out of that arm wound after getting it all covered in sewage you stupid sexy man

I can’t get over Three’s name. “idk if anyone noticed, but it’s kind of a subtle homage to another very famous superhero” Horikoshi your nap wasn’t long enough, please go home

also love how Bruce is talking shit about OFA being a puny loser quirk for wimps. how the fuck do they even know what’s going on, anyway? was there a tutorial???

oh you just had a feeling huh??? that it was “something like this”, huh??? how is it that I, who knows all about OFA because I’m from the future and have read 408 chapters of this nonsense, am somehow still less in the know than this handsome clown who doesn’t know shit but just “had a feeling”

(ETA: while editing this post I noted that Bruce is sitting in front of a computer in what seems to be some sort of medical lab, so maybe they ran some tests or something? except that only makes me more confused, because it implies they didn’t actually figure out OFA’s workings via convenient plot instincts. so then how the fuck did they figure out the transfer process?? questions)

meanwhile AFO is sitting in the panel next to him whining about how someone stole Yoichi’s quirk. excuse you. he did not steal it. it was in fact a gift

these flashbacks are all jumbled up and it’s unexpectedly fun to read, but also really chaotic

I guess he’s talking to Kudou on the right and AFO on the left

so many intense closeups of eyes in this chapter oh my goodness

Horikoshi even drew the individual goddamn eyelashes. this looks like the margins of someone’s notebook from when they were really bored in middle school

oh my god the information overload!!!

so much for AFO actually feeling emotions lol. or is he just lying to himself about why he cried. that delicious ambiguity

so we don’t even get a flashback explaining how the transfer actually happened?? to either Kudou OR my beloved Bruce?? goddamn you Horikoshi. omg I would seriously kill for more of this. make a movie about it. I want the OFA origin story prequel movie damn it

I like how AFO just sits there on a throne holding court with a single tiki torch beside him for aesthetic reasons

I can’t quite figure out how he killed Banjou and I’m not sure I really want to know. it looks very violent

friendly reminder that Shinomori is Sir Not Appearing In This Flashback because he’s the only OFA user who died of natural causes! good for you Shinomori. En probably wishes he was more like you

poor En

was Nana just taking a stroll or something one day and stumbled across this epic fight with the evilest man on the planet vs some kid in a trenchcoat, and then the poor kid got bisected and he looked at her and he was all “please eat my hair” and she was just like “ok”?

OH WOW

what a transition omg

LOLLLLLLLL

you know, part of me always wondered how All Might was so certain he’d killed AFO that he apparently never bothered to confirm it. but looking at this panel now, I can understand

fjjfdzjgf

he’s sweating so much. like “okay yeah he punched the top of his face off, this is pretty bad but I’LL DO MY BEST”

BACK TO THE PRESENT DAY AWW SHUCKS

so let’s recap. over on Kacchan’s side we have “GOTTA USE THE PAIN TO WIN!!!” haha ouch. and then over here on KFO’s side we have. whatever the fuck we just experienced over these past two chapters. so basically it’s a battle between the two most deranged characters in the entire series. glorious sweet chaos

DSFJKSLDKGJL he’s now trying to figure out how the fuck they look so much alike and whether they’re actually related

“no, that can’t be it. so then maybe... this kid grows up and then somehow travels back in time...?!” HE’S JUST LIKE US FR

so now he’s saying it’s because Kacchan didn’t have character development yet the last time, but now that he does his eyes are all Full Of Determination just like Kudou’s and so we’ve basically come full circle!

transcended WHAT? :O :D :D omg I’m kidding you guys please don’t hurt me

lol

actually the more we learn about Kudou the less I personally see the resemblance now lol. because Kudou seems so calm and collected, but Kacchan is just... [gestures to literally everything about Kacchan]

so AFO’s trying to strategize, but he can’t warp Kacchan away because the only available targets are too close and he’s still got that SUPERSPEED, BOYO so it wouldn’t make a difference. lol but if you kept doing it repeatedly it might be kind of funny though

and he can’t keep fighting him either because he’s getting his ass whooped and it’s speeding up his de-aging or whatever. well you could just give up then I guess. your call, AFO

oh was that your plan?

spoiler alert for me lol. but it’s not exactly shocking or anything since he’s dying, guess he wants to abandon ship

(ETA: just FYI for anyone reading this who’s not familiar with my dumbassery, I have currently only read chapters 1 through 374 at this point in time, before skipping ahead to 403 because Kacchan came back and I lost all willpower. I am working on catching up with the rest!)

oh so now you did come up with a strategy?

lmao what the FUCK

how much of this is going to be clearer to me once I finish the chapters that I missed, and how much of it is just plain old “nope this is all brand new zero-context BnHA bullshit” lol. this looks like every single quirk AFO ever absorbed combined into one gigantic horrifying blob that forced Horikoshi to take an extra week just to draw it

oh my god!?

Kacchan hovering there bravely facing all this is giving me Gandalf “you shall not pass” vibes and I’m LIVING FOR IT

so either AFO is going to kill Kacchan for the second time right here and now, or he’s going to fail and turn back into a squishy evil baby fdslfjkls

love how All Might is all “DODGE IT YOUNG BAKUGOU!” thanks for the warning, champ. doing his part

more exploding bloodsweat closeups. are these just going to be a mainstay of Kacchan fights from now on

“are you stupid?”, when faced with [gestures to the entirety of the previous page], is possibly the best line ever uttered by anyone in the series. even better than the polite “coming through” uttered only seconds before it

ah man. you love to see it. he literally doesn’t even care. HE ALREADY DIED ONCE TODAY, AND IT CLUED HIM IN TO THE FACT THAT HE’S A MAIN CHARACTER AND ACTUALLY IMMUNE TO DEATH. sorry AFO it’s curtains for you. CURTAINS

[deliciouskeys]

Cozy Corner Domaystic prompt #24: OCD

Homelander, Billy Butcher. Gen coparenting. Or gen as far as we know. AO3 link.

Art by @maxkennedy24 . Commission them! 😊 They’ve put up with some bizarre requests from me, including this one.

Butcher hears cursing under his breath before the vacuum powers on. Somehow he doubts this supe cunt has vacuumed a day in his life before he got a roommate he never asked for.

The New York City Family Court awarded Butcher joint custody of Ryan after a DNA test. Homelander is still appealing the ruling, and cited Butcher’s apartment as ‘completely uninhabitable for a child’ in the course of his complaint. He probably didn’t expect Butcher to shrug and say he’d move in if that’s what Homelander really wanted. And he probably didn’t foresee Butcher getting the chance to make his life miserable by refusing to move into a neighboring Vought apartment, and Stan Edgar authorizing all of it with a sadistic twinkle in his eye because he seems to have it out for his top product.

Homelander is so mortified by the turn of events that he won’t even call in housekeeping on the days when Butcher stays there. He doesn’t want anyone witnessing this, apparently.

Butcher takes another drag of his cigarette and taps it to have ash fall on the floor.

“CAN YOU JUST-“ Homelander explodes but then catches himself and bites his tongue.

“Just what,” Butcher asks rhetorically, not looking up from his phone.

“Nothing. I was going to ask you to get your ass off the couch and clean up your mess. Ryan’s coming back up here soon from his lessons. I thought maybe you’d feel at least a smidgen ashamed of all this.” Homelander points at the open, not-all-finished-off beer bottles on the floor.

“Lucky for me this apartment comes with maid service.” Butcher chuckles as Homelander sighs and lifts up the entire couch to vacuum under it more easily.

“I know you don’t live in a pigsty like this,” he laments. “So I don’t know what you’re trying to prove right now.”

“Oh so you think my apartment is cleaner than yours? Did I hear you correctly?”

“Shut up,” Homelander mutters, but still puts the couch down gingerly, because he doesn’t want to fuck up his shiny lacquered floor.

“It ain’t healthy to get so OCD about minor things.”

“It’s hardly OCD not to want your child tripping over beer bottles and inhaling cigarette fumes!” Homelander mutters as he gathers all the beer bottles, throws them in the recycling bin he’s had to acquire, then thinks better of it and drags the bin outside into the hallway.

“Yeah, that plastic bin don’t really fit in with the rest of the decor in here.”

“More like I don’t want Ryan smelling beer in this apartment.”

Homelander stands there with his arms crossed, waiting for his gaze to be met, but Butcher pointedly pretends not to notice him.

“If I could get rid of things just because they don’t fit with the decor, you’d be the first to go,” Homelander mutters angrily, but then he evidently hears Ryan taking the elevator up and his face instantly transforms into a much happier, tense mask before he whirls around and opens the door to greet him.

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 13/?

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

For me, Goodie is not a total goody-two-shoes. Remember that she sees a soul's inner good. She is kind, yes, but only to those she deems worthy.

All I can say is that she and Roo are 2 sides of the same coin.

P.S. I'm not gonna put any snippets anymore, I end up not following them anyway aksjdlajk

----------------------------------------------------

Goodie: Such words! Angel, was self-preservation not included when you gave them the fruit of knowledge?

Lucifer: Apparently not.

Velvette doesn't dare to make eye contact when the King of Hell crouches in front of her. He roughly takes her face with one hand to forcibly make her look up.

Lucifer: A lot of you seem to think that 'King' is just a title I was merely given.

His claws were digging into her skin so hard that she knew for a fact that she was bleeding- if not for the wet sensation then the taste of iron in her mouth was a dead giveaway.

Lucifer: I can't blame you. I was not the most present ruler, after all. But I thought I made something very clear when I dealt with that moth man.

Velvette can feel her jaw dislocate from the sheer strength. Vox wants to help but he can't move- none of them could. He looks to his side to see Alastor smiling like he just got the best gift ever- the fucking psychopath.

Lucifer: I guess one example isn't enough.

She wants to struggle but her body won't fucking move. Her head was going to explode. She was going to die right here.

Lucifer closes his hands suddenly, crushing the lower half of Velvette's face. Surprisingly, she's still alive. Lucifer removes his command on only her, letting Velvette keel over. She's saying something but it comes out garbled. She makes an attempt to crawl closer to where Vox is.

Vox is looking at her with devastation and horror. His friend is going to die. Velvette produced a high-pitched noise as she felt something stab her leg, pinning her from where she lay. Then came the burning sensation. Her leg is on fire. It's on fucking-

Lucifer: So, let me keep it simple.

He twists Lightbringer and effectively cuts off Velvette's leg.

Lucifer: I'm Lucifer Morningstar.

He swings and slices an arm.

Lucifer: The creator of the first sin.

A stab to the torso.

Lucifer: The angel that damned humanity.

Velvette can't even do so much as a whimper now. Her whole body is mutilated. If she could still see, she's sure that all that's left is a gooey red mess.

Vox averts his eyes but something compelled him to keep his head facing the mess.

Goodie: Uh uh uh! A bit rude to look away, don't you think?

Lucifer: Í̷̫̈́́͂̒̚̕͝͝͝'̶̨̛̺̤̿̀͒͛̂̿͋̄̑͆́͘͠͝M̴̝̯̖̦͍̽̎̏͆̔ ̴̛̛̄̋̈̑̓̀̓̃̄͐͗ͅŸ̷͇̙̟͈̭̥̬̻̙͔̠̱́̽̊̊ͅÔ̵̤͙͈̬̫̪͕̼͍͌̀̔͜U̴͈̼͖̯̤͌̀̀̓̾̔͆̈́̊͑͗̕͠͝R̵̨̹͍̦͒͌̋͒͆͌̄͛̓͑̔́͜ ̸̝͑̐̀̉̃͠͝F̵̞͖̮̗̗̜̯̯͔̮͒̊͒̈́̈́́̽́̂̂͑̎͝U̵̟̙̱̙̯̤̼̙͈̳̘̫͊̈̀C̷̙̞̔̅̊͌͋K̷̖͙̼̪̠̾̄̅̾͘I̵̛̩̘̜͖̩̙̿̐̽́͊́̒͆̆̎̑͗N̴̤̏̂͝G̸͋̋̍ͅ ̵̡͈̩̹̗̹̝̻̬͍̗̬̲̳̟̍͋̽͛̒̉̍͊͑̑̋̅̽Ḳ̷̡̬͔̞̱̤̬̮͉̙͇̪͛̅͊̚I̵̤͙̪̞̝͔̱͎̜̩̖̺̟͔̙͊Ṉ̵͈̤̘͚̻̙̼̓͂̌͋́̎͜ͅĢ̸̭͔͇̹̹̳̭͋̓̒͗̈́̉̈́̂̚

Lucifer casts hellfire on the dying sinner. The king laughed as the flames grew tall. This is the power of the Devil and they will remember now of their place.

The flames dispersed leaving a charred mass. Lucifer turns to face the still-kneeling group of demons.

Lucifer: Û̶̪̌͐́̂̆͠͠n̸̛̟͕̱͍̫̘̻̣̱͈͈͇̱̜͛̓͗̏̅̇͋̒͆͊̓͗̚͠d̷̢̢̨̼̙͈̞͈͓͈͙̂̌͋̔̂̉̍̈́͆̿̈́̕͘͜͠e̵̛͍̯̫̼̫̐͛̊̒̆̉̓̊̽̓̒̒̚͘ŗ̶̨̢̧̮̜͙̪̹̯̙̪̤̠̝̓́̒̋͆̆̓̿͐̄̓̕̚̕ş̷̛̮͖̰̝̟͇͕̟̞̳̟̪̥̂̀̈́̈͗́̿̐̔̎̕̕͠t̶̮̖̭̹͓͉̪̣̦͙̖͍́͐͂̑͒̑͂̑̾̓̍̊͝ô̵̥͓̥͐̄̏̀̾̀̽̆ò̴̜͇̣̣̳͖̗̹̟̇̓͑͝ͅd̸̨̨͈͓̠͑͑̒̎̈́͘͠?̸̟̎̈

All nodded- he almost thought the sinner Overlords' heads would roll off from how frantic they were moving it. Except for Alastor- he kinda looks like he just experienced euphoria.

Lucifer: Good!

He claps in delight as transforms back to his normal appearance. With a snap of the King's fingers, everyone could move again. What they didn't expect was Velvette turning up in her dying place, perfectly fine, looking like nothing happened.

Vox runs forward to hold her as she shakes and cries in his chest. He gives the King a confused look.

Lucifer: What? Do you really think I killed her? Sounds counterproductive. We still have a situation at hand and you are no use to me dead.

They shuddered. His eyes say a silent reminder of how he could kill and revive them over and over again as he pleased. How he could, literally, show them what the phrase 'make your life a living hell' means.

Goodie: Up now! My sister is becoming restless.

Everyone reluctantly stands and gets in position.

Mammon: Show-off.

Leviathan: Ha! You wish you were that scary.

Goodie stands next to Lucifer, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Goodie: Remember, angel, if this fails, you must do what I have told you.

Lucifer nods. A giant red pentagram appears above the entirety of Sloth the moment he opens his palm.

Lucifer: Let's start.

---------------------------------------

Apologies Velvette stans

[videogamesincolor]

Brodie and the role of determination in "Still Wakes the Deep"

From the start, Still Wakes the Deep depicts Brodie as one of the more clear-headed characters after the Beria D is, effectively, attacked by the entity. Granted, if you're working on an oil rig, you (probably) have to be a certain person to work under high-stress conditions. As the apparent diver on the Beria (and senior figure, after Roper, Innes, Trots, Finlay, and Rennick) Brodie is probably accustomed to working under pressure (literally and figuratively).

Brodie operates under the pretense of what my former supervisor called, "positive reinforcement". Highlight a person's strengths, and address their weaknesses as "areas for improvement". Hence why he gets annoyed with Caz when he heightens Rafferty's anxieties about going down in the diving bell with his own personal fears.

Folks like Douglas and Rafferty look to him to know what to do, so Brodie takes it as a personal failing when someone is harmed under his charge. When Gregor and Caz fall into the water, he's the one who goes in after them. And given the height both fell from, by the time he was prepared to dive, he shouldn't have been able to find either, but he gets lucky with Caz.

Of the survivors, Brodie is together enough to send Finlay down to restart the generators as they're cutting out and sends Caz to reach the surviving radios (initially). Even when preoccupied with another situation, Brodie was forward-thinking enough to consider mitigating the broader damage on the Rig.

When a panicky Caz, probably to his surprise, completes what he sent Finlay to do, he reorients Caz (by hyping him up a little) and asks him to help with tension wenches in the Pontoons. Whatever reservations he might have about Caz's anxieties, Brodie appreciates that he's willing to throw himself into certain danger to help.

Brodie's determination to save the Rig, perhaps to save themselves (because there was no way to physically leave the rig without transportation) was such a gripping story beat to watch play out between himself and Finlay.

Way before Caz gets himself out of the pontoons and encounters a mutated O'Connor, they're talking to (or at) each other in notes. Brodie operates like the situation is another high-stakes circumstance that he (as a diver) must be accustomed to. Process of elimination.

He is pushing to save the Rig, but only long enough for rescue. But his initial plans fail. The surviving radios don't work, so they can't reach the support ship. Most of the Rig is collapsing and flooding from the damage. Stabilizing the tension wenches leaves the Rig vulnerable to sinking. The tone of Finlay's notes suggests they should focus more on leaving the Rig altogether, instead of hailing the support ship. (Again, the issue with that being, of course, that there's nothing sea-worthy left on the Rig to even float on.)

And she's already speculating at the entity's intentions after seeing so many of their coworkers die, transform, or become gore on the walls. Brodie, however, isn't particularly curious about the entity beyond seeing it as an (environmental) obstacle. Stabilizing the flare stack prevents explosion, but he initially believes it was at the expense of Caz's life.

Brodie could be motivated by what happened to Raffs in the diving bell. I can't imagine seeing someone under your charge explode into a hostile lump of tentacles and inhumanity would leave you anything but determined to save as many people as you can, bad odds be damned.

And in that dynamic, the person delaying what's inevitable really can't stop the person who's decided about what they'll do. And, for me, that's interesting, as Brodie and Finlay were both kinda positioned in the story to be 'dependable' and 'pragmatic' in the face of terror.

Both of them try to sway Caz from going after Roy, but relent, knowing he won't be any good to them with his mind elsewhere except in the priority situation (the tension wenches).

(One of the last bits of advice he gives to Caz when they're face-to-face is to make his every move count, and not panic when he goes underwater.)

In most circumstances, I would've expected Finlay and Brodie's roles to be reversed. So, that Finlay was the one to just accept that they were all doomed after a certain point, was nice.

Brodie's willingness to venture into certain danger and death ultimately seals fates and is catalyst enough to push Finlay to do what she'd been thinking about since their exchanges. Caz is convinced of Brodie's own "jamminess", that he believes he can get out of the oil-flooded pontoon to return to them, and if he can't, he has him to rely on. Brodie knows otherwise, and, so, home (Isle of Skye) is the last thing he thinks of before imploring the others to escape.

I don't know if the Isle of Skye is considered a "harbor town", but Brodie's apparent comfort in and underwater struck me as a connection to his home. That he dies, drowning in oil, feels like a cruel irony of circumstances.

On a more personal level, given that Scottish / English / Irish narratives trend towards whiteness (and are often loaded with weird "racial purity" undertones), I wasn't expecting Still Wakes the Deep to have any significant characters of color in the game. That Brodie is the only Black character in the game with a major speaking and narrative role within the narrative (and voiced by a Black actor, thankfully) is a double-edged sword.

It's a) par for the course (and disappointing), but also b) nice to see a predominantly white narrative acknowledge Black Scotsmen exist. Sunil (Scottish) and Dobbie (Irish) are two other Black/Brown characters with lines, but they're minor characters (both killed by a mutated Muir on the Derrick).

Throughout the multiple playthroughs I've watched since SWTD was released, I've always found it extremely baffling that most (white) players assumed malice on Brodie's part when he's surprised to see Caz survive the collapse of the skywalk connecting to the stack.

He's clearly relieved to see his friend alive, but most were like, "Was he trying to kill Caz?" And it's like, how the hell did y'all come to that conclusion?

And if I were to speculate about the entity's intentions, it wouldn't be much interested in going anywhere except back down below. The potential threat that was the Rig, is no longer a danger to its existence. Hence why everything it pulled apart and invaded, was gradually sinking under the water.

[not-freyja]

Ravio grins, rolling up the map and placing it on a shelf beside him. “Now… where to begin?” “At the beginning?” Sky offers, tentatively hopeful that something in his life will start to make sense. Apparently he set his hopes too high, because Ravio laughs and rubs his hands together before picking a stick of charcoal up off the mantle and scrawling in large font next to his notes, ‘Where does a Circle start?’ “That’s the ask, isn’t it? Where is the beginning? What is going on, to whom and why?” Ravio turns back around and his eyes are bright and glinting, a kind of mania sparking through them that puts Wild’s ‘something is about to explode’ face to shame. “You’re in a loop. A long winding circle, made of tinier little circles in time and space and every single one of you are a walking paradox and I have been trying to figure out how it is that all of reality has not collapsed or faded away into nothing or how you all haven’t accidentally erased each other's existence and frankly, boys, it has been a headache and a half.”

This chapter comes with supplemental material. As in, I spent way longer than I should have recreating the vision in my head of Ravio's crazy red string conspiracy board wall for your viewing pleasure. Here it is:

(Please keep in mind that these are not my notes, they are Ravio's, and what he has written may or may not be entirely true and accurate. Also the image zooms very cleanly if you click it.)

[milfswriter]

Innocent

Alma Peregrine x Reader

Request by @queerpersonified: Peculiars assuming reader is dangerous and shouldn’t be around kids, when in reality she’s a very loving, nurturing supportive wife and parent (I have a feeling that would get on Alma’s nerves REAL FAST)

Notes and warnings: reader's peculiarity is being able to show memories (like transform the room into that specific memory? get it? and no it can't be tampered with lol)

You walked into Ditch house after finishing a shift with Sharon to monitor who enters and exits the loop through the panloopticon, sighing as you saw the children from different loops disperse at the sight of you.

It wasn't anything new, you'd been living here for the past few weeks and you should've gotten used to the weird looks and Ymbrines hiding their children behind them at the sight of you already.

But how could you? They were judging you based on a lie that the peculiar press has been spreading for the past 30 years. you bit your lip nervously, looking around the house for Alma or anyone you knew but you couldn't find them. You brushed it off and sat on a couch, reading a book before hearing someone clearing their throat.

You looked up to see a boy you recognized to be from Miss Cuckoo's loop. "Who allowed you to sit here?"

You raised an eyebrow, "Do I need permission to sit? I thought we shared this house"

He scoffed, walking away before Enoch stopped him with a hand to his chest. "Don't ever talk to Y/n like that"

_________________

You tried to ignore the staring as you carried Claire around the house, their wary looks making you feel like they were about to snatch her from you any second.

Later that day, you were invited by Alma to join her in the council meeting to discuss dealing with the desolations Caul has been causing. As you reached the meeting room, you knocked on the door hesitantly before coming in, a flood of relief washing over you as the first thing you saw was Alma's soft smile.

"Now that we're all here, I'd like to-"

"What is she doing here?" You turned to see Miss Cuckoo grimace at you, her cane hitting the table.

You stayed in your place near the door, waiting for Alma to kick you back out.

"I beg your pardon" Alma's questioning tone made you feel the slightest of relief before Miss Cuckoo made her way to you, pointing at you with her cane.

"For all I know," she spat, her french accent thickening "she's working with Caul! She shouldn’t be in here!”

"Isabel!" Alma's tone was hard, a glare burning holes at her friend. She couldn't understand her fellow ymbrines, why would they treat you like you were a time bomb, about to explode any second.

"How. Dare You!" you yelled, the room falling into silence once again. Even Miss Avocet was too shocked to say anything.

You were always respectful, holding doors for Ymbrines and bowing your head to them whenever you saw one of them even when the look of disgust was apparent on their faces, so seeing you yell at one was nothing less of shocking.

"I..have been trying for DECADES to rectify my mistake! it was an accident! I DID NOT CONTROL THAT HOLLOW! I did not order the deaths of those children!" you were fuming, you had enough.

"Y/n. That is enough" Miss Avocet said, moving her wheelchair as if she was about to ask one of the ymbrines to escort you out.

"No, it is not. I am sick of this treatment which I absolutely do not deserve! I am not a monster, nor a killer" you caught your breath before turning to Miss Cuckoo.

"And you!" you pointed to her, her face contorted in surprise "how dare you accuse me of working with the one person who ruined my wife's life? hm? you dare say that so openly, too"

"ENOUGH!" Alma's voice echoed through the room, you were waiting for her to kick you out of the room, but she herself left the room after pulling your hand.

You were following her silently. "This! is Y/n Y/l/n! an innocent woman who had done nothing wrong in her entire life! whatever lie you've been told has to stop. NOW!" the children watched with horror, whispering to one another.

"Show us" she told you, looking back at you as you stood behind her shamefully.

"Alma, you don't have t-"

"Show. Us" you gulped, closing your eyes as you began to remember that wretched day, sighing as you felt the room change into that dark alley.

You watched your past self's hands tremble at the sight of the children behind that hollow, you didn't know what to do.

"get away! run!!" you yelled but they couldn't hear you from the hollow's growls. You kept on screaming for them to run since they couldn't see the damn thing, but they kept in their place, looking around for any sign of danger but found none other than the sounds of the hollows.

You didn't have any weapons, you couldn't have possibly fought the beast by hand but you still tried to run.

You fell on you knees as you saw the hollow scoop the three children up with its tongues, closing your eyes as their screams echoed through the alley.

The memory faded as you hid behind Alma, whose hands were shaking as she closed her eyes. She's never asked you to talk about any of that, let alone show it.

The room was silent and as you looked up Alma's shoulder, they were all staring at you. Ymbrines children and even Addison, who's always told you he believed your story.

You looked at Alma's still-frozen frame, you'd scared her, you shouldn't have shown this memory. Your thoughts were interrupted by your wife clearing her throat, turning to look at you with teary eyes.

Your lips trembled at her stare, gulping as the older woman pulled you into her embrace, which elicited a soft sob from you as you clung to her for dear life.

"oh, y/n/n" she whispered, "I'm sorry you had to witness that" You shook your head, letting go of the woman in front of you and looking at the others.

"I was a hollow hunter" you admitted, "just like Abe Portman, but one day, things went wrong and..those children died. It wasn't my fault and I would never work with Caul Bentham even if it cost my life" you felt a tug at your pants to see Olive with tears in her eyes as she hugged you.

"I know you would never do that to us" she hiccuped, making you sigh as you leaned down and picked her up. You shouldn't have shown the damn memory, now you scared your children for others' stupid opinions.

Alma cleared her throat after seconds of silence, her hand resting on your lower back.

“I believe you all owe miss y/l/n an apology”

Taglist:-

@ara-a-bird @mmemalwa @multifandomfix @thenazwife @mistysswampmud @yelenablshop @acornacre @yourfavdummy @jestercat28

[needfantasticstories]

Chapter 8 is FINALLY done!

"He’d traveled across time and between worlds, conquered shadows and broken the dreams of gods, and he could do it again, goddesses willing or not."

Legend faces his first Skulltulas, and meets someone new.

Exit Strategy

Legend leaned back on the metal door, hands shaking from exertion. He tried to catch his breath amid the smoke and ashes of the cavern, but it caught acrid in his throat and settled heavy in his lungs. Reluctant, he peeled open and ate one of the two honey candies he always kept in reserve for Hyrule or Wind, for healing and small bribes respectively, and chased it with another bottle of magic-restoring potion. 

The last few red drops of potion in the glass glittered, mesmerizing in the dim torchlight. He put the empty bottle away. How the mage came to possess so many red potions from his own era, instead of just the elixirs common to Wild’s time, struck him again as odd. Still, Legend wasn’t complaining. They’d not been to his era for weeks, and his stock ran out days ago. Wild made fantastic elixirs for a range of uses, but magic wasn’t one of them. 

The fake wall thudded as heavy weights slammed against it. Skulltulas . Legend winced at the thought of facing them again. Not yet . Tapping and scraping on the metal sang a gruesome tune of anger and hunger that reverberated into his spine.  

Time and Sky had mentioned defeating the pests before. Apparently Wild had them too. He had to get back outside and face them. It’s Champion's era. What would he use? He huffed a weak laugh at a dozen memories of the champ exploding trees and fish, to Time’s horror. Bombs . And a rrows. Bomb arrows . Legend did not want to bring the whole canyon down just yet, and so searched his pouch. No Tempered blade in its usual place, that had been left in the mud at the ambush, along with his mirror shield. 

Legend brushed over a familiar hilt in his bag, his fingers tracing over worn, braided leather. He gripped it tight and pulled the blade free, remembering that night, years ago, when he’d lifted it from uncle’s mantle to chase the girl’s pleading voice, Zelda’s voice, in his mind. His hands were so small back then. That night, hope from the princess and priests gave him courage to press on despite the rest of the kingdom turning against him. And he’d done it. Just a child. A man now. He looked at the simple blade, and repeated the promise he’d made that night.

I thought I ended him. I’m sorry I failed your world. But I will bring you back so we can heal it together, break your curse, and keep Gannon in his grave .

He’d traveled across time and between worlds, conquered shadows and broken the dreams of gods, and he could do it again, goddesses willing or not. 

If he were truly blessed, Ravio might be ready for another adventure with him. 

Breathe .

Yanking his power gloves on, Legend turned and shoved the metal wall open. 

Pale sunlight bloomed through the gap to reveal biting cold air, drifting snow, and red sand.

Beyond the sandstone overhang casting its shadow over him, daylight shattered and speared between ropes of silk that criss-crossed the natural arena of the canyon. They almost masked the deep pit gaping in the center of it all in shadow. 

Spiders twice his size with skull-like bodies and golden legs scurried to reach him, clawing forward on the webs and the ground as if starving. More emerged from the deep pit. They chittered and clacked as they crawled closer, spitting crude nets of webbing toward him. 

He sidestepped the first net, then leveled his fire rod at the skulltula who’d sent it. The monster hissed as another one overtook it, both scrambling to reach the veteran first. Legend appreciated the wave of heat he released, a relief in the frigid air, and he left two charred bodies smoking where they fell before they burst into purple fog. The shimmering webs all around him crumpled and twisted away from the blaze, creating a small gap in the skulltulas’ dense weave. 

Fresh air blew in, clearing the smoke and ash and Legend breathed. 

“Rulie!” he bellowed, just in case. But only more spiders stirred in answer. Another massive black and gold body dropped in front of him. He stabbed it on instinct. With a crack and a crunch, it fell, legs twitching around his sword arm. He jerked the blade free and cleared more webs with fire. The sticky webs shriveled and spiders dropped. 

Legend spun around the pit: slicing, burning, stabbing, again, again, again. Webs fell and revealed a vibrant blue glow coming from the far side of the arena. He’d seen a few like it before: in the rainforest where they’d first landed in Wild’s Faron region, and again just before Ghirahim’s ambush. It had to be another shrine, or similar sheikah magic. Wild used them to teleport, and it might get him and Hyrule back too, faster than slogging uphill into snowy mesas with Yiga on their tails. 

Fire and sword steadily cleared a path to the shrine, skull-faced bodies leaving clouds of sulfuric smoke. Veils of webbing drifted almost lazily away under the golden sunlight now filling the arena, uncovering facades of windows and doors built against the cliffs.

Sooner than he’d expected, the last skulltula shriveled under his flames. 

Legend panted as he turned all around, searching the walls and the pit for stragglers. Fire rod swapped for his traveler’s shield, the veteran braced himself for what might come next. The pit would be an ideal place for a moldorm, or gleeok. He watched, and waited.  

Nothing moved. 

The veteran adventurer wiped sweat from his face. 

Wind blew sand across the gap, but not a whisper or sound came from inside. Anxious to get this over with, he peered down over the edge. Little yellow lights glowed around the edge, but no monsters emerged. 

Hesitant, he scoured the arena, now painted in ash and scorch marks. “RULIE!” he shouted, and listened. But there was no sound, nor sign of any life in the arena beside himself. “RULIE!” The word echoed and faded, unanswered. 

He turned to Wild’s shrine again, unsteady and jittery as the rush of battle left a swell of discomfort in its wake. Lightheaded and cold, but moving forward anyway, Legend approached the structure cautiously.  

This shrine, radiating a piercing blue light, towered higher than the two others he’d seen: it jutted from the sand like a spike, the top half of smooth crystalline rectangles, but still with the gaudy, worm-like swirls around the base and archway like the other shrines. 

Legend  jumped atop its bulky platform. 

A pedestal with a slanted top glowed, a rectangular hollow in the center. The light faintly pulsed. 

But, how to make it work? How to activate it? Legend wiped sweat and ash from his cooling face and studied the pedestal beside the archway. The tilted face shone so brightly it was hard to look at for long. He explored the entire surface with his fingertips, the slate smooth and cold as ice, colder even than the drifting snowflakes melting on his hair and hands.  

He pushed at the lights, prodded them in different orders, copied the pattern of constellations marked on the shrine. 

Nothing .

He tried a mystery seed. He tried spells memorized from books Ravio brought up from Lorule about magic and potions. 

Nothing. 

He sent flames over the pedestal, across the entrance, and inside the little cave-like room within, hoping to activate something . Not a scratch or scorch mark remained for his efforts. Legend kept at it: he prodded every reachable surface, inside and out, for signs of a switch or a puzzle, but found only that perplexing dip in the center of the pedestal. 

Nothing.

The light continued to pulse steadily, like an ancient mechanical heartbeat. He felt the gap, imagining the size and shape of what might fit inside. 

Wild’s slate. This dip was just the right size for it. 

Then it all made sense. That was the key. So only Wild could use it. 

Determination turned to sour disappointment. In the blue glow of the shrine’s cave, Legend eased himself down to sit on the inner glowing platform. Too late, he realized it might have been a mistake: once teased with rest, his body collapsed. Sleepless nights and too many long fights made his limbs sluggish. The sun outside shone too bright. His joints grated at the slightest movement. He closed his eyes, half-wanting to sink into dreams, even knowing how dangerous as those could be, whether by a new deity needing his help to wake, or simply from a stray monster finding him an easy meal. 

Legend groaned and forced his eyes open. He could not sleep yet. He needed to bring Hyrule back. If he could find his successor and get out, hold on long enough to get them to safety…away from that horrid demon and the mage the Yiga mentioned. Mages…Aghanim. Veran. Twinrova…the potions, stolen from the mage’s room…

His eyes closed, head dipping. 

…the book.

The book! 

Legend shook himself harder and sat up. He needed a plan if he wanted to prevent the terrible fate the book showed, and the hell that would bring: a new incarnation of Ganon, Hyrule dead. The Yiga knew about the curse. They would kill him. Gannon would be back. 

Or the Calamity. 

There was no time to waste. Legend unfurled the map. Blue light shone through the paper as he traced with shaking hands over dry red and black ink. None of the words looked familiar. Legend traced his wandering path backwards, pausing only to note that the mage’s chamber and the war room with the long table didn’t appear on the map. 

Only two wings of the sprawling complex remained unexplored. Hope sparked warm in his chest when he realized one of them led to this arena. Examining the cliff walls again, he cleared out blistered webs and loose boulders, revealing a decorative gate. With a small, red-tiled roof and simple wooden frame, it was far humbler than the ornate gate framing the hidden passage he’d left earlier. It blended perfectly with the stone. 

Hyrule, hold on. I’m almost there.

Legend tried pulling, pushing, and testing for hidden levers, but found none. It was like that tall shrine all over again. Which, as before, meant Wild probably had the answer. If Wars was around, he’d put money on the “key” to it. With a laugh and a hope, Legend lit the fuse, aimed, and tossed.   

The explosion rocked the canyon. Sand and rocks poured down like waterfalls from the cliffs above. Dust cleared from the entrance. The veteran could almost hear Wild saying “See? Bombs!” with that wide, tilted grin of his. 

Legend entered the mangled cave door. He leapt over debris and mangled spike boobytraps, and rushed deeper inside, throwing stones ahead to spring any more traps before he reached them. 

Sweat dripped down his neck. He threw stones ahead as he rushed through the corridors, and sure enough spikes shot from the floor several yards ahead. Amateurs , he thought as they retracted, and he rushed across easily on winged boots. 

Legend left a slew of mangled floor and wall spike-traps in his wake.

A large hallway opened ahead. His footsteps echoed, disturbing the quiet, yet no Yiga appeared. Strange . Nor had they appeared outside. Too empty, too quiet . Legend didn’t like it. After killing the monsters, and certainly after bombing the door, the place should be swarming with Yiga. 

Had they retreated? Or if Hyrule had escaped, was he giving them such a tough fight elsewhere that they’d forgotten him? Or were they planning some attack or trap ahead? He’d rather take them on than continue with this eerie silence. But perhaps there were more monsters here than just the spiders, and they’d left defending the entrance to them? His gut twisted as he tried to push away another haunting thought: maybe they’ve started the ritual. Maybe they don’t need the book.

Blade and shield ready, he ran into the next hall, only to find more empty halls and sparsely scattered torches.

Cleanse . The word had been repeating in his mind since he arrived. A drum beat pushing him forwards while he’d searched. He would burn them all out on sight to free the world from this threat. For Wild. For Malon and Time. For Rulie, and for this era that had endured horrors enough. 

But where were they? He knew he’d not killed all of them, the slippery bastards. Legend followed the switchbacking hall to the doorway of the next room, and stepped inside. 

Inside, he found a spacious room bathed in the same red torchlight as the rest of the complex. The floor had been carved four steps deep and covered in sand: a training arena. Walkways converged at a large, padded stage in the center. Wide towers halfway to the corners of the room held lamps and long banners, the painted red eyes watching from all directions.

On the stage sat an old man: cross-legged, hands resting across a thick wooden cane in his lap. The coiled, blue haze of the man’s magic aura felt ancient . Legend had not felt such a stark reminder of his own youth since meeting Time, and this stranger felt much older still. He sat motionless, completely at ease.

And no wonder, the veteran thought: the old man was huge, and unlike any other Yiga he’d seen—bullish like the blademasters, but much taller. Even Time would have to look up to face him. Four and Wind could weave between his legs without bothering to duck. 

The man wore no red bodysuit, but unadorned black robes. Painted on his black mask, the signature upside-down eye of the Yiga shimmered gold in the room's red glow. Snowy hair fanned in two halves from his top knot, hanging nearly to his shoulders.

Legend had seen this too many times before: the smug, relaxed arrogance of a dungeon’s final guardian. Usually a good sign that I’m going the right way, that I’m close. Perhaps this was the mage he’d stolen the book and potions from. On the far side of the room stood the way ahead. To his surprise, it was not a locked door, but an open hallway.  He didn’t need a dungeon key—he just needed to get past this man.

Legend readied his sword and shield. 

The stranger rose to his feet with the gravity of a talus. Legend resisted the urge to take a step back. Matching his shocking height, his voice rumbled deeply: “Come in, hero. I will not hurt you. I only wish to speak with you.” He planted the cane before him, resting his huge arms on it.  

That was… unexpected. 

Legend held his weapons tighter, eyeing the wooden cane of his opponent warily. Magic radiated around it. “Thanks, but I’m only passing through.”

“You seek your friend.” 

Irritation flared in the veteran; not only at the man, but at his own confusion. What the hell was going on? Why was the enemy offering to talk ?

“Obviously,” Legend seethed. “You assholes and your demon lord were the ones who took him.” Though he’d hoped to match the even temper of the old man, he could not keep a snarl from leaking into his voice. 

“No, hero. That demon is not my master. Not yet. My master is gone. I merely serve the clan in his honor, training them in our ways, but the mage leads our tribe now.”

So, not the mage. There went that theory. “Then who are you?” 

“I am… I am no one. Perhaps one day I may reclaim my name, my revenge, and my honor. Until then, I am simply a teacher.”

Legend waited for him to elaborate, but he remained on the stage, watching. Maybe. Hard to tell under the mask. But the teacher remained silent. Legend rolled his eyes. Cryptic much? “Fine. Teacher, then. The Mage is in charge. Got it.”

A deep chuckle resounded from the Teacher. “The mage serves the demon lord. Yet he believes Lord Ghirahim serves him .” 

Then he had the audacity to laugh again . “I sincerely apologize, young hero. No doubt yours was. not a warm welcome. We knew you’d not be easy to convince. But Fate has foretold of the role you will fulfill. The mage wishes to show you how to save your friend’s life. We will ensure your safety, for Destiny has willed it so.”

“Yeah, you were right,” Legend deadpanned, “I’m not convinced. I happen to know your mage wants my friend dead. So let's get this over with.” 

The old man lifted the cane like a sword.

Legend sent magic into his boots, and the room streaked into blurs of color on either side as he charged the stage. When he reached it, the huge man disappeared in a cloud of red. 

Legend took the chance. He rushed across the stage and onward to the open hallway on the far side. No slammed door, no lock, like he was used to. Just another hall. He only needed to stay ahead of this man and keep a strong lead as he searched. At worst they’d battle in the hall where Legend’s smaller form would have the advantage. With luck, the stubborn old brute would be bound to the room like most dungeon guardians, but Wild’s era proved unpredictable in that regard already. They’d all heard about the roaming lynels.   

Legend jumped up the opposite steps in time to watch the tree-sized wooden bars slam over the doors, locking him in. He barely stopped in time. 

“NO!” Legend struck the bars with his blade, but he knew it was pointless. In the center, he found a slot for a key. Legend scoured the room for the man who’d done it.

He did not see him anywhere. Time to draw him out. Win the fight. Get the key. 

He walked cautiously back to the stage. The veteran turned slowly, listening. The silence pressed like a weight. 

A brush of displaced air whispered behind him, and Legend spun and blocked the old man’s staff with his shield. The dense pole forced his shield down until he was nearly on his knees in a crouch. Legend swung his sword below his shield across Teacher’s leg. Metal clashed as his knight’s sword bounced off a hidden shin guard, its silver metal peeking through the sliced black fabric. 

Legend tried to get out from under the man’s downward pressure, shoving with the help of his boots and jumping over a low swipe at his legs. But when he jumped, Teacher shoved him back. Skidding, Legend dug in and stopped the enemy’s goron-like momentum just enough to risk stabbing at Teacher’s knee, careful to keep his head covered. 

The old man dodged it easily with a sidestep, but Legend turned his wrist and hacked from the side, digging into his soft inner thigh. A hiss told him he'd drawn blood, at least. But the pressure grew unbearable against his shield, threatening to topple him backward and crush him. Both arms burned as he tried again to shove Teacher off, but this time the boost from his pegasus boots was not enough to force him back. 

“Fate cannot be thwarted. Yield, and save your friend.” The man spoke without strain, as if the shoving match between them took no effort. Legend ground his teeth and trickled more and more magic into his boots to push forward, yet the force against him mounted higher. Goddesses, he’s strong. He wants to test me.

Legend preferred to keep some surprises up his sleeve. He straightened with just a little boost from his bracelet, then danced aside in a spin—cap and tunic flaring—and let Teacher lurch forward in the empty place he’d left. Legend swung his sword around to hack into the old man’s unarmored spine as he passed. 

Only Teacher hadn’t lurched at all, but dashed forwards quickly— too quickly—and spun as Legend had, nimble as a yearling buck. He faced Legend with that eerie black mask and flung his wrist. Two kunai blades, disturbingly like Ghirahim’s, slammed into Legend’s hastily-raised shield. The huge man charged again, cane ready to strike. But the veteran leapt high, flipping backwards in a soaring arc, and aimed his blade for the man’s head as he passed below. His opponent’s momentum would be his undoing.

But Teacher was gone . Legend’s blade cut empty air instead of splitting a skull. 

Dammit! The teleporting coward!

Legend’s momentum sent a bruising shock through his knees, joints nearly buckling, as he landed. 

Where did he–

The old man’s voice resonated from the door Legend needed to reach. “Hero of Legend, your name is well remembered by my tribe. In your time, we were allies.”   

Legend straightened, panting. “Your tribe is just traitors and murderers now.” 

“Young mage, hear me.”

“I’m not a—” Legend started, but Teacher interrupted, raising a placating hand.

“Upon the memory of Master Khoga, I vow that we only wish to teach you the spell to keep your companion alive.” 

Legend had to fight back a laugh. Wild loved telling that story around the campfire of the Yiga clan leader accidentally killing himself with his own weapon and falling to his death. Yet the raw earnestness in Teacher’s voice gave him enough sense to not mock the still-grieving man. “Oh, well, now I’m convinced.” Legend scoffed. “Unless you're actually going to help me get Hyrule out of here, let’s get this over with.”

Teacher heaved a deep sigh, and rested his pole between his feet. “Let fate prove my words, as the knights of old, since you wish to fight. If you disarm me, I swear to stand aside. But if I disarm you, then you will stay and listen to the mage.”

“I’m not a knight. If you really know who I am, then you already know I’d never agree with anyone trying to bring back Gannon.”

“Do not let pride blind you to the good you may achieve with our help.” He lowered the cane to his side. “Let the mage teach you the spell that will save the Hero of Hyrule.” 

Heat filled Legend’s vision, crawling up his neck, just like the rage he’d felt when he first arrived. It swelled to a boil as the pieces fell into place.

Legend knew what it showed in the pages of the book, knew what the mage truly had in store for Hyrule. “I don’t need him to teach me a damn thing. I know what you actually plan to do with ’Rule, so honestly? Fuck off.” 

“You do not understand your role—”

“Enough!” Legend didn’t bother letting him finish. “I’m getting the key and getting out.”

“Hmm. It is a shame you chose to fight against Fate. But in the end, there will be no choice.” Teacher lifted his cane overhead, and the spell of concealment over it shattered. The Teacher lowered twin, single-edge blades, like the blademasters but larger and with hooked cross guards the size of dinner plates. His robes took on the fit of the blademasters too, but remained dark as night. “The mage will find other ways to convince you.”

Legend’s scowled, readied his weapons, and watched for the old man to make the next move. 

Teacher disappeared again. A sudden grasp on his arms startled him. Legend shoved backwards to knock the old man down and break his grip. They tumbled off the walkway into the sand. 

Legend scrambled up to face his enemy, spitting out the dry grains and shaking more out of his hair. “Can’t win without disappearing?” he shouted.

“As you fight with magic—” Teacher was behind him again. Legend whipped around and used his bracelet to slam his sword hard against the man. His opponent raised one arm and took the blow on his spiked vambrace, the blade inched from his masked head. “So do I.”

He had a point. Legend despised him all the more for it. 

Teacher scissored his blades across Legend’s legs. But the hero leapt high, backflipping over the arcing blades, his sword arm coiling with tension to drive into the enemy’s head. Spiked arm guards blocked the midair attack, and before Legend landed, Teacher snatched his sword arm and flung him bodily onto the stage like a sack of grain.

Legend rolled to his feet from the toss and spun to face his opponent. Teacher did not pause his assault. Jumping onto the stage, he barreled forward, then tucked and rolled to the left when Legend struck, but it was a feint and too swiftly he leapt up from the roll and swerved right, crossed his arms to hold the blades high, and if not for Legend’s own flip back at the last moment, they would have taken his head as they scissored again. Instead, they swished just below his boots. 

Blades lunged for him again, tips sparking with sharp magic. Legend barely rolled under their reach in time. 

Teacher fought like a hurricane. Lightning fast, he hacked both blades at Legend’s right, striking the shield with the force of a lynel, in blurred succession. Reverberating pain shot up his arm. Legend swung into the storm with his own sword, but the man jumped high, and as Legend’s swipe passed through the abandoned spot, Teacher dropped down with his blades poised downward to skewer Legend from above. Legend blocked overhead, but marveled at how the huge man continued to hover above the ground. He’d seen the archers do it, but not blademasters, and this man seemed to be their teacher. Both blades swung down at his left side this time, Legend’s sword arm barely fast enough to block and parry. He could hardly track the motion. Metal flashed from the right and above, brutally shoving his shield and nearly dislocating his shoulder. Legend could only defend. 

Still unbound by gravity, Teacher twisted in the air, spinning like a children’s toy as his blades became a whirl of red, like fire. Legend backed away, but the whirlwind slammed his shield, forcing him down to one knee. 

It stopped when a fist cracked against his cheek.

The world tilted sideways, and his nerves kicked in late, dulled by whatever blow had landed on his head. Gravity caught him, clawing him down to the floor, though it seemed a tenuous situation, as if  up and down could change direction again at any moment. Legend blinked hard several times, trying to get up, but shooting pain in his ribs kept him still. Curling his head up, he found a black shoe pressing him down.  

Searing pain at the back of his knee brought the world back into sharp focus, and he gasped as a terrible sting throbbed, pulsing with heat and shock up and down his entire leg. The man’s dripping blade pulled free of the wound, and Legend realized he’d cut his tendon.

Bastard!

“Yield,” Teacher ordered. 

Cleanse.

  Legend let his hand answer, using the force of his power bracelet to strike Teacher’s unarmored hamstring with a gift from Sky clenched in his fist: a woodcarving knife.

The brute grunted, and his leg lifted enough for the veteran to push free. 

Legend rolled under the man as the dual blades swung down where his legs had been a moment before. He’s still not fighting to kill. But I am! The veteran continued his roll behind Teacher and lunged to his feet, jumping high enough to swing at the back of his neck. But the old man turned with the agility of a snake and parried, shoving Legend back. 

Legend landed clumsily in the sand on one leg, careful not to put weight down on his leg, but he could feel his magic ring already knitting the wound closed. 

Teacher paused, breathing harder now. “Fate is unrelenting in its tapestry. Not even you can undo the weaving. Stop this pointless game.”

Cleanse.  

“Funny, because I’ve killed the destined King of Evil even as a goddess-damned child , every time he showed his ugly face. Don’t waste my time.”

Legend did not wait for the old man to make the next move. His leg had nearly recovered enough to walk on. Okay. Time to dance . 

Shield away, the veteran pulled free a cane, the top curled like a fern. A cane from the Dark World. The smooth blue surface shone purple in the red light as Legend lifted the cane of Byrna high. 

When Teacher’s blow struck, his strength turned against him, bouncing off the shield and sending him flying backward with the force. 

The hole left in Legend’s chest by the consumed magic ached bone-deep, but he was ready for the next attack. Fire rod again in hand, he gave the man no chance to recover his balance before hurling flame after flame against him. 

The ground erupted at his feet, but Legend was ready. Nothing he hadn’t already seen today.  

Legend sidestepped the blaze and lunged for the man with all his strength, natural and otherwise. 

Then a curious thing happened.

The teacher moved like someone trapped in dense mud, like time itself had slowed down. The flames behind him crawled in its attempt to chase him. The teacher hardly moved at all, blades slowly cutting the air. Legend’s shield was already poised to block it. He’d seen this before… where had he seen it? The veteran could not recall just then, not in the heat of battle. Not daring to question the sudden surplus of time to attack, Legend landed his blow, heard the force of his hit, and yet the man hardly moved! Legend struck again, and again, and again, finishing with a spin attack.

The man flew backward into a pillar so hard that his mask cracked in half, landing beside his limp form on the sand. 

Legend hurried down, and rifled around the man’s robes, searching for a bag or a...

There!

Legend darted across the walkway and up the stairs, and he shoved the key he’d taken into the lock. The gate slowly began to rise.

A brush of displaced air warned him. Legend swiveled and drew up his sword in one fluid motion. 

Legend and the Teacher both held blades to each other’s throats. 

“I will yield, as a sign of my sincerity. But consider this warning, hero,” the teacher growled, lowering his blade. “Fate is inescapable.”

And in a cloud of red, he was gone. 

The doors opened.

Legend didn’t wait around to see if his concession was just a trick.

--------------

@estelian-01!!!! This chapter is dedicated to you! Thanks for being so excited about this fic, it has significantly led to it's forward progress!

A TRILLION Thanks to @hotcheetohatredwastaken for beta reading and giving fantastic suggestions, and finding all my silly little errors.

Also shout out to @not-freyja for answering all my many, many Legend questions!

[imtrashraccoon]

Here it is...the climax! I think this chapter is actually the longest one so far as well. Got a few bonus chapters left that I'm really looking forward to writing though.

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Nightmare - Shield

Word Count: 2,964

It happened suddenly as these things do.

One moment, you were in the middle of making lunch and the next, the lights flickered before going out entirely. You stopped what you were doing and checked a few other light switches just to come to the conclusion that the power was out. Fine, you could handle this.

It was weird that it had happened so suddenly though. The weather was supposed to be perfect today, so maybe it was a freak accident? You guessed someone could've knocked over a hydro pole or a transformer could've blown up.

Then you became aware of the building shaking. You actually lost your balance and several dishes you had left on the table fell, shattering on the floor. Not wanting to have a wall collapse or have glass explode in your face, you crawled into the hallway and huddled against the archway. That was what you were supposed to do in the event of an earthquake, right? Or was it to get in the bathtub with something sturdy on top of you?

The tremors seemed to stop after a couple of minutes and your building seemed to be in one piece, but now there was another problem. You could hear sirens and what sounded like a security alarm going off. There was another sound though, one that filled you with an overwhelming feeling of terror.

A distant but steady roar.

You staggered to your feet and practically yanked your front door off its hinges, desperately hoping you were wrong.

The world outside was nothing like what it should've been. Many hydro poles were down, leaving the power lines dangling dangerously near the ground and you could see large plumes of smoke rising into the air from surrounding neighborhoods.

A couple of your neighbors apparently had the same idea as you and had congregated on the outside walkway as they tried to figure out what was wrong. You could hear murmurings of the phone lines being out, someone's pipes apparently bursting from the initial quakes, and even rumours of a gas leak.

The sky had been torn in twain, like someone had ripped a piece of paper in half. The wind was whipping your hair around and you could see many small objects being sucked up into the black void that was now the atmosphere.

Nothing came back.

You'd been through this before.

Last time you'd tried to flee the city or at least get somewhere safe. With how poorly that had gone, you weren't about to repeat the scenario and die for real this time.

What could you do when the world was coming to an end?

Nothing.

There was literally nothing you could do.

Emergency services were likely swamped as they undoubtedly tried to deal with this disaster. If the phone lines were truly down, you couldn't call anyone to find out if they were okay or if they needed help, not that you had anyone to call anyways save for people that generally disliked you. Since the outside was so dangerous, you basically had no choice but to shelter in place.

So that is what you did. Call it giving up if you wanted, but you weren't about to spend your last living moments running for your life, only to die horribly. If you were going to die, you were going to be as comfortable as was feasibly possible.

You started for your bedroom but hesitated to actually enter. Changing trajectory, you retrieved your favorite romance novel from where you'd previously left it in the living room. It was too dark and you were too frazzled to even think about reading right now, but there was another reason.

In the middle of its pages, you'd been pressing a few of the daisies, forget-me-nots, and yellow tulips Axe had brought you for your birthday months ago. You hadn't seen him for over a week and while you missed him terribly, this was the only thing you had to remind yourself of the good times you'd spent together.

You also pulled your chess set from the game cupboard. While it wasn't something Dust had given you, the fun you'd had playing with him had been enough to give the game a new sort of sentimentality. You frankly missed his random night visits and snarky sense of humor as it wasn't a void either of the others really filled.

With your valuables in hand, you finally returned to your bedroom and closed the door behind yourself to hopefully mitigate the sounds of chaos outside. Although it didn't help much and the roaring of the Void had only seemed to have grown louder.

Depositing the book and game on your bed, you pulled out your favorite pair of leggings, the very ones Killer had somehow gotten mended for you, from their place in the drawer. You slipped them on and your fingers lightly brushed over the knees and the embroidered vines with red hearts. While he had been a metaphorical thorn in your side, you had to admit that it had been fun getting to know him.

You wrapped yourself up in your blankets and clutched the book with the flowers and the chess set to your chest. You'd been trying your best to remain calm but now you could feel tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, threatening to breach the dam and pour down your cheeks. Your breath was coming in ragged gasps and you could feel your body trembling.

You didn't want to die.

You'd learned so many new things and discovered a side to yourself that you'd never dreamed possible. A bolder, more confident side that wouldn't let people walk all over you anymore. Well, you might still have to work on that, but you'd been getting better!

You had met a band of misfits, and while they'd definitely be the type of people your parents wouldn't approve of, they had quickly become close friends. You didn't have to ask, nor did you want to, but you knew in your soul that all of them would do anything to keep you safe, even kill without question. You weren't entirely sure about Nightmare yet but you knew that he wouldn't sit by if you were in danger.

So where was he now?

You'd promised to consider his deal but you'd never been able to give him your answer. Not for a lack of trying mind you but it wasn't something you could take lightly.

What he offered, was for you to drop everything and everyone you had ever known to go with him, to a completely new environment that was unlike anything you'd experienced before. You didn't know much about the multiverse or world codes, but you were vaguely familiar with the multiverse theory.

The main issue you had with his deal was that you didn't know what would happen to you if you accepted it. The multiverse was apparently massive and home to countless people, some of which could actually hop between worlds like Nightmare and his boys. It was boggling to think about but seemed completely normal to them. A boring person like you had no place in a world like that.

You couldn't help but sob as the apartment complex trembled from another series of tremors. You were so scared. You didn't want to die!

In your despair, you let out an anguished scream for the one person who could possibly come find you. "Nightmare!"

But nobody ca-

The room temperature seemed to grow chilly and the shadows swirled before coalescing into the familiar shape of the god of negativity himself. His cyan eyelight seemed to be burning brighter than you'd ever seen it and his tentacles practically writhed with pent up adrenaline. He only needed to glance at your trembling form to understand what was going on and he rapidly moved to the edge of your bed.

"Are you hurt?" he asked in a low voice.

"No," you croaked, "I'm just so glad to see you..."

He exhaled slowly through his teeth and seemed to focus on a specific spot on the ceiling. "You've probably already figured it out, but your world is in the middle of collapsing. I estimate you maybe have a few minutes before everything disappears and is reclaimed by the Void."

His gaze snapped to your own and seemed to pierce into your very soul before he spoke again. "Will you accept the deal and come with me?"

You opened your mouth to respond when a rumbling crash cut you off. In a fraction of a second, several things happened. Nightmare's tentacles snatched you up. You were coated in fine layer of drywall dust. Nightmare used his tentacles to shield you from the roof caving in.

The dust caused you to cough violently when you accidentally breathed it in and when you managed to recover, you found yourself clinging to his body. He was clutching you against his ribcage and continuing to shield you with both himself and his tentacles.

The roof was gone and the sky was now completely black. The sheer force of the wind threatened to blow you away and you could barely hear yourself think above the roaring of the black.

Nightmare's gaze flicked to the darkness above and then back to you. He appeared completely unharmed and only slightly dusty from the rubble, but the ooze that covered his body seemed to be rapidly absorbing it.

"Yes! I accept! Nightmare, please...take me away from here..." you shouted above the clamor of destruction.

He didn't even hesitate.

His tendrils wrapped around your body, basically binding you against him. You just managed to close your eyes before the roar of the Void was replaced with dead silence. The wind had completely ceased blowing too and a numb feeling began to spread over your body.

The numbness persisted for far longer than any teleport had before and yet you didn't notice. In fact, the only thing you could feel besides Nightmare's hold on your body, was the way the box for your chess set and the edges of your book was cutting into your arms.

You felt his hold loosen and the temperature equalize out into a more comfortable one. You could hear laughter from somewhere nearby and the crackling of a fireplace.

"hey, the boss is back!" Killer's unmistakable tenor voice rang out. "what happened for you to leave so suddenly...?"

You quietly glanced over in the direction of his voice. In one of the few times you'd ever seen him speechless, Killer had an odd look on his skull as he seemed to take in your distraught appearance.

Moments later though, he tilted his skull and flashed his trademark smirk at you. "hey angel~ long time no see..." he purred.

Nightmare made a tisk sound and leveled him with a stern frown. "She's slipping into shock. Tell the others she'll be staying and to get things ready." His tone of voice took on a much more commanding tone that you'd never heard before as he spoke.

It was quite effective though or at least you thought it was. Killer's permanent grin widened slightly and he gave a curt nod.

"sure thing." Before turning away, he winked at you in a mildly suggestive way, but knowing him, he was only half serious about it. This guy could barely take things seriously even in a situation as dire as this one it seemed.

Nightmare began carrying off into another part of the...castle? Everything seemed to be made of gray stone and the ceilings were vaulted, but you couldn't be sure. It would certainly suit someone as regal and dramatic as him though.

He'd mentioned you were going into shock. Was that what you were feeling? Sure, your heart was still beating like crazy and your breathing seemed to be shallow, but you didn't think you were actually in danger. You did feel kinda cold, but in a numb sort of way, and maybe you were a bit lightheaded? It was too complicated to think about. You just wanted to go to sleep and wake up to discover that this had all been another bad dream...

You briefly heard Killer relay the news to the others but he didn't get to finish his sentence before they apparently decided to see for themselves.

Nightmare stopped walking and half turned to look behind him. You could feel his grip tighten around your body in an almost possessive way. "No, you'll only overwhelm her," he nearly growled.

You could see Axe and Dust standing barely six feet away, having likely teleported as soon as they found out you were here.

Axe's deep red eyelight had shrunk down significantly to the size of a dime and other than his stiff posture, he was giving off serious kicked puppy vibes. He went to take a step forward, only for Dust to catch his arm and stop him. Although you knew if Axe was truly motivated to get to you, Dust wouldn't have been able to hold him back like that.

The giant of a skeleton clenched his fists and made a quiet sound of frustration. "you'll take good care of her, right?" he asked Nightmare in a low tone that not so subtly sounded like a threat.

"Of course, you can spend time with her all you want once she's calmed down."

Axe let out a heavy sigh and nodded. Turning his attention to you, his gaze softened significantly although his smile was rather tight. "i'll make ya somethin' nice if ya feel like eatin' later, lil' chip," he murmured.

Dust had been silent throughout the whole interaction, although he was practically searing a hole through your head with how intensely he was staring at you. He hadn't even broken eye contact to stop Axe from upsetting Nightmare. You couldn't read what he was thinking at all which was pretty concerning.

He remained in place, just staring at you, as Axe turned to leave. Nightmare let out a low warning growl which seemed to get his attention at least.

Dust tugged his hood tighter over his skull and turned to leave, although not without making a comment of his own. "...you'll be okay, bean." He disappeared immediately afterwards to who knows where.

Nightmare sighed and continued onto his original goal. He ended up bringing you into a frankly extravagant bedroom and only then did he let go of you. He set you on the bed, wrapped you in one of the softest blankets you'd ever felt, and even propped you up with pillows until you were comfortable. At some point, he set the things you'd managed to bring with you on the bedside table.

"This will be your room," he finally said. "You may decorate it as you see fit but do let me know if you need anything."

You weakly nodded.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and took one of your hands in his own, running his thumb along your knuckles. "There is one more thing I need to do, my dear."

He paused for a moment to let his words register. "You are still considered an incode and technically bound to your old world. For your safety, I need to sever the connection between your soul and the old code, which will classify you as an outcode. I would explain more, but I suspect you're not exactly in much of a state to process all of it."

When you frowned, he lightly stroked your cheek with his knuckles in an attempt to reassure you. "It's okay, I'll be as gentle as I can," he said softly. "Just relax and trust me."

Well, now you were certainly feeling the confusion that apparently came with shock, so it was a good thing he wasn't about to info dump on you. It didn't help with making you feel any less anxious though, as you had no idea what severing the connection meant or entailed.

"Okay... I trust you."

Nightmare nodded and moved his hand from your cheek to your chest while keeping hold of your hand with his other. He focused for a moment and you started to feel that familiar pressure before your soul floated from your chest.

It was still so beautiful.

"This might hurt a little," he hummed.

Before you even had the chance to protest, he grasped your soul, causing you to gasp at the suddenness. His cyan eyelight burned brighter for a second and he abruptly yanked your soul slightly away from you.

It hurt more than a little but even spraining your ankle hurt more than severing this had. While you could feel the stinging of tears that threatened to fall, you managed to blink them away.

Nightmare gently guided your soul back into your chest and smiled at you. "There now, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he murmured in that velvety tone you'd come to love.

He moved a few strands of hair behind your ear, his claws affectionately brushing against your skin as he did so. He briefly glanced towards the closed bedroom door before looking back at you.

"I think I'm going to keep you to myself for a bit, my dear. Just until I know you'll be okay after all that excitement." As he spoke, he laid down next to you and wrapped you up in his tendrils, pulling you against his ribcage.

You couldn't have protested even if you wanted to. It was probably a good thing he wasn't about to leave you alone as he seemed to have the power to completely calm you down whenever you were upset. You were going to sleep for a while though.

Maybe things would be better when you woke up.

[smells-like-mettaton]

Happy birthday @carlyraejepsans!! Small birthday fic for you!!!

Word Count: 1 123

Rating: G

Summary: Papyrus and Mettaton enact an explosive plan to get Sans and the Queen together.

XXX

“Are you sure this will lead to an explosion of romantic feelings?” Papyrus whispered to Mettaton in their hiding spot behind a conveniently-shaped shrub. 

The convenience was artificially-created—he had been the one to trim this particular hedge in the shape of himself and Mettaton—but that was okay. Sometimes these things needed a little artificial flavor, or nothing would ever get done! 

He hoped Queen Toriel liked the artificial flavor of bombs. 

“Darling, nothing is more romantic than missile toe!” Mettaton replied, holding a long pair of binoculars to see through the hedge. “Just wait. This program hasn’t even started yet!”

Papyrus scooted closer, pressing one eyesocket to half of the binoculars. It gave him a pretty good view of his brother and the queen standing beneath one of the garden’s arches, where Sans liked to hang out and pick water sausages for his “illegal” hot dog stand. Mettaton had forged a note in Sans’s handwriting, and Papyrus had set up the missile toe—a tarsal-and-bomb combo Mettaton said was a hit on the surface—to create the most romantic atmosphere possible. Surely it would blow through Sans’s aloof exterior and compel him to confess his true feelings!

“Hey, Tori.” Sans hid a bundle of water sausages behind his back. Papyrus wasn’t sure why he bothered, since they both knew Toriel knew what he was doing with them. “Water you doing here?”

Papyrus suppressed a groan. Sans was never going to get anywhere with abysmal puns like that! It was a good thing he had such a brilliant brother looking out for him!!

Toriel laughed, though, because she was absolutely smitten by Sans’s slime-emitting charms. Somehow. 

“Oh, nothing mulch.” She smiled, her fangs poking out from under her upper lip. Papyrus had caught Sans grinning dopily at that smile more times than he could count. Not that Toriel would be able to tell, since Sans’s expressions were nearly impossible for anyone but Papyrus to read. “I hoped you might be able to tell me.”

She held out the note Mettaton had written. It had told her to meet Sans here for a special surprise. 

“Huh. Any idea who wrote that?” Sans asked, glancing around. 

Papyrus tried to keep his bones from rattling with anticipation. 

“It was not from you?” Toriel frowned. 

“Nope. It’s a pretty good forgery, though. They even got my i’s write.” He held the paper up to the sun lamps in the cavern ceiling, like he was trying to see through it. Mettaton hadn’t hidden any secret messages, though, as far as Papyrus was aware. “Hey, wait a second.”

While looking up, he’d apparently noticed the missile toe. Perfect timing!

“Hit it, darling!” Mettaton said.

Papyrus pressed the remote detonator. 

The bomb exploded with a BOOM of bones and confetti. It was loud, it was flashy, it was perfect! In fact, Toriel was throwing herself at his brother already!!

She tackled Sans to the ground, tarsals raining down on her back. Sans’s face, pinned near her shoulder, went bright blue.

“Are you alright?” Toriel asked him quickly, propping herself up on her palms. 

“Uh,” he said coherently. 

“Ugh, Sans, you’re blowing it!!” Papyrus hissed.

“Let the show go on,” Mettaton stage-whispered. “There’s still time for a grand finale.”

“Not sure about all right, but looks like I’m all left in one piece,” Sans finally said, still lying on the ground. 

“Thank goodness.” Toriel sighed shakily. “Perhaps I should not have disbanded the Royal Guard after all… I never would have expected such a cowardly attack…”

“Heh. I think you’ve got it the other way around.” Sans picked up one of the fallen tarsals. “This has the Royal Guard written all over it.”

“You mean—Papyrus did this?” Toriel’s brow furrowed.

Papyrus cursed. Ratted out by his own brother! Didn’t he have any sense of gratitude??

“Do you not think that is a little far-fetched?” Toriel asked, standing and helping him to his feet. “Perhaps he is being framed. Your brother has no reason to fight either of us. Unless our puns pushed him too far…”

“Nah, he’s not into that kind of pun-ishment.” Sans grimaced. 

“Then why…?”

“Because Sans is incapable of telling you how he feels!” Papyrus burst through the hedge, leaving a Papyrus-shaped hole in the Papyrus-shaped shrub.

“Hey, bro.” Sans sounded tired, and not at all surprised to see him.

“Papyrus?” Toriel gaped.

“And Mettaton!” Mettaton burst through his adjacent shrub.

“And Mettaton.” Sans sighed. “Nice job with the note.”

“Thank you! Having a built-in photocopier comes in handy.”

Toriel pinched the bridge of her nose. 

“What is the meaning of all this?” 

“Romance! Drama! Bloodshed! What else?” Mettaton beamed. “The producer isn’t supposed to be seen on set, but Papyrus made the executive decision to pull back the curtain, so here we are! Ready for our close-up!”

Toriel shook her head, but chuckled.

“Of course… well, that is sweet of you. But, I am afraid your script has an error in it.”

“An error?” Mettaton gasped with a hand to his mouth. 

“Yes. You see, I already know how Sans feels about me.” She smiled.

“You… what???” Papyrus’s jaw dropped.

Sans went pale. Paler than usual, anyway.

“What.”

She rested a hand on Sans’s shoulder.

“I did not want to press you on the subject. I have been alive for hundreds of years. I can be patient.” She gave Papyrus a stern look, and he shivered. “As you should learn to be, as well. It is terribly impolite to force someone to confront their feelings before they are ready.”

Papyrus looked away. He’d just been trying to help! Still, there was no fighting a look like that. He could only hope she decided to spare him.

“I see… My dating handbook must be missing a few pages,” he muttered.

“There was no force involved! Only the romantic catalyst of missile toe!” Mettaton insisted, hugging Papyrus close as if to protect him from Toriel’s glare.

“Missile…?” Sans snickered. “Okay, that’s funny.”

“I knew you would understand!” Papyrus said. Sans always appreciated a good jape!

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t try toe blow me up again. Just ‘cause ya missed this time—”

“UGH!! You are impossible!!! You are lucky the Queen puts up with you!!!”

“I think I do more than put up with him.” Toriel winked.

Sans blushed again. 

“Wonderful! That’s a wrap, darlings!” Mettaton waved with the arm that wasn’t squeezing Papyrus. “No need to thank us. Just order a jar of MTT-Brand Beauty Yogurt™ for your first date, and we’ll call it even!” 

Mettaton engaged the wheels in the heels of his boots and zoomed them away. The sound of Sans and Toriel’s laughter echoed behind them.

That was all the thanks that Papyrus needed.

[skaruresonic]

I actually found a fancomic based on ABT where apparently she had nightmares about her village being destroyed and she blamed Sonic (not Eggman) for that.

Sure, it's fanart, not ABT's vision... but what's with IDW and its fans and wanting to shoulder all the responsibilities on Sonic when he really always does his best? Now who's the one saying that Sonic should go Punisher on Eggman?

And why does it seem like they want Lanolin to snap and become a villain? ... also that's just Surge. She wouldn't even be special lol

Yeah I saw that one too lol.

Like not to play trauma Olympics, but uhhh. Lanolin. Did you not see how Sonic almost ran himself to death during the metal virus?

It's not like Sonic is oblivious to the shit Eggman puts people through; he also suffers alongside the rest of you. Like I said, sometimes he's the first and most direct recipient of the consequences of Eggman's schemes. Yet he continues on being the bulwark standing between Eggman and the world.

---

Sure, it's fanart, not ABT's vision... but what's with IDW and its fans and wanting to shoulder all the responsibilities on Sonic when he really always does his best?

Honestly, I'm finding it hard not to interpret this all as the result of cynicism with the games. IDW never established Sonic vs. Eggman as a thing, let alone something done enough times to warrant such a reaction. The book assumes you know Sonic vs. Eggman is old hat and agree with the notion that something needs to shake up the series' most core dynamic. "Sonic is too much of a happy Gary-Stu, he needs to reckon with the consequences of someone else's actions" certainly is A Take(tm) in that vein.

I've read fanfics like this before, where traumatized civilians emotionally unload on Sonic.

...Dude, yeah, I get it, Sonic's the nearest lightning rod to absorb all your frustrations because you can't exactly take a swing at Eggman. But it's not like Sonic is the cause of your pain, and it's unfair to expect him to shoulder that burden. Even he cannot be everywhere at once.

Also, requiring him to take Eggman's life lest the trolley veer onto the other track and murder everyone else feels... unfair? Meanspirited, even?

"You could end everyone's suffering right now if you cared" is such manipulative phrasing, especially considering how difficult it is to off Eggman with any permanence, and how often Sonic does save the world. He frequently puts himself out on the front line for no material gain.

Dude gets dealt a really shitty hand sometimes. Nobody else got struck with the arrow of judgment and had his life burned down to a wick. Nobody else got trapped inside a capsule about to explode into what Eggman calls "floating chunks in space." Nobody else had to suffer the Werehog's curse, which is implied to be a painful transformation that occurs every night regardless of whether Sonic is prepared for it or not - and even worse still, in Eggmanland, he had to force that change via the sundial switch in order to progress.

You're over here going "hmmm Sonic, real sus how you never acknowledged the deaths of the thousands who perished when the planet broke apart," meanwhile the poor bastard is lying unconscious from exhaustion, having traversed Eggmanland, grappled with Eggman in a no-holds-barred match during a plummet towards the Earth's core, and fought a god for like a week straight on no sleep.

...We don't deserve Sonic.

Besides, for as much as everyone hypes up non-Eggman villains, do you think things will be sunshine and rainbows even if Eggman remains dead? That other beings won't cast their evil eye upon the world in the power vacuum that will inevitably appear? Will Sonic be responsible for the Black Arms too? Metal Sonic? Idk, The End?

It gets even worse because the book's writing forced moral responsibility onto Sonic to by begging the question of "Why doesn't he just kill Eggman?" in the first place. As if A.) he doesn't already fucking try on a regular basis and B.) as if it's that easy. Except now people are like, assigning moral negligence to Sonic's happy-go-lucky demeanor. God forbid the guy wants to chill once in a while, lmao.

And if you believe that Eggman doesn't actually have a body count, then this entire argument becomes moot anyway. Therefore Lanolin is potentially planning on assassinating Sonic based on the fact that he's not footing the group chat's therapy bill.

This is not that difficult. Sonic doesn't care whether Eggman lives or dies. Sonic neglects Eggman's pleas for help. Sonic acts homicidally negligent towards Eggman.

The lid, Patrick! Put your hand on the lid!

---

Now who's the one saying that Sonic should go Punisher on Eggman?

I know, right? Wasn't offing Eggman supposed to be this awful no-no thing he should never do because Principles? Now he's an asshole for not pulling a Spock-esque "greater good" moral calculation?

I'm starting to lose the plot, in more ways than one. xP