#dot hack cosplay

[zeldamomoe]

"I wouldn't have made it this far without you. What am I to do when you start doubting yourself?"

BlackRose was my number one dream cosplay as a kid! I loved .hack//Infection, Mutation, Outbreak and Quarantine so much. I originally made this costume in 2015, but this is my rebuild from 2020. For the armor, everything was made out of EVA foam, and the breastplate base was an old strapless bra I had lying around. I re-purposed the tights, loincloth fabric, and wig (just re-styled it) from my 2015 cosplay, as well as the sword that was built with the help of my brother-in-law back then too. Everything else was created new, and since I was furloughed at the time I had all the time in the world to get everything perfectly how I wanted.

I even designed the tattoos myself on Illustrator! They're available for purchase on my ko-fi.

Photos by my partner & edits by me

[whimsicalparadox]

We livin the dream (driving a subaru)

[retadoesthings]

Macha / Maha /  マハ from .hack//SIGN Photographed by Mira Ojamo in Finncon-Animecon 2011

I made this wonderfully strange cosplay in 2011 for a costume competition and although the clothes are a wonky (I was still a baby when it comes to sewing and I think I made this cosplay without any supervision from more skilled friends), I actually still quite like some construction choices I made.

My favorite parts:

I definitely wanted to include Macha’s giant red eyes in my execution, but I also didn’t want to completely lose the ability to make facial expressions. The “reverse balaclava” was a compromise between these two points. Whether or not it looks good in hindsight, I’m still not sure, but I stand by the choice anyway. The eyes had two layers of sunglass lenses glued into them; red lenses on top and mirror lenses underneath, to make the eyes reflect light in a creepy, cat-like way. I dig that!

It’s hard to tell from the pictures, but I had little whiskers too. One of the oddest things I’ve used for cosplay; those were originally parts of a table disco light of some sort. Like, stiff but also kinda bendy plastic sticks, about the thickness of a fishline, that used to light up in different colors and rotate when the light was on? (Incredibly hard to describe. Internet search didn’t help at all.) Anyway, I took a few sticks, painted them black and glued them to a tiny black pearl, which I then glued to my face.

The overall design with the half white, half lilac skin is fun. The skin doesn’t cover my whole body, of course; it’s just legwarmers, gloves and balaclava. The ears have steel wire in them to make them sturdy but bendable. In the top pic you can even see the pink imitation leather details on the paws!

If I’m not having a fake memory right now, I think the dark brown fabric used to be curtains. I also think I ran out of it, because the sleeves ended up TOIGHTTT. I don’t recall that being intentional.

Then the baby shaming part (aka some pictures I took (while laughing) when I got rid of this costume in The Great Cosplay Purge of 2019):

Incredible craftmanship on the left, incredible effort on the right. The ribbon was attached to the collar with a safety pin, because of course it was. Why attach something properly when you can throw a safety pin at it? It used to be an inside joke among my friends that all my (competition) costumes always used to have some secret safety pinned part.

(”Used to have”, I say while thinking about the latest competition I’ve been to. I safety pinned one of my cosplay partner’s costume parts in place. Just last month. But it was sort of an emergency so that doesn’t count, okay.)

[chihirolovebot]

come undone.

featuring. tsumugi shirogane/reader

synopsis. tsumugi gets creative for your christmas present

word count. 775

content. gender-neutral reader, fluff, christmas, mugi being a nerd, established relationship

merry ficsmas masterlist.

Tsumugi likes to knit.

She has anxious hands, your girlfriend. They must always be occupied with something, or else she will start to pick at herself. Nails and lips and skin. She fiddles with stray threads, winding trails of yarn around the tips of her fingers 'till they go swollen and red. So for her birthday, you bought her some wool, and some needles, and a little paper booklet of patterns.

She's gone a little wild with them, actually. What started as a hobby for finicky hands has turned into a full-time obsession. Your apartment is crammed with sewing kits, rounds of yarn and cotton and wool, and she spends most of her free time curled up like a cat, knitting 'till she gets dents on her fingers. It certainly hadn't helped with her love for cosplay, either—in fact, gifting her the means to make her own higher-quality costumes meant that you had several racks of outfits scattered about the place.

Not that you mind, of course. It's sweet, that she's so involved in her interests. You're nothing if not supportive.

As winter arrives with a languidity that makes it feel as though it's lasted for decades already, Tsumugi turns her attention more to practicalities. First come mittens in your favourite colour, adorned with cute white flowers. Next, hats, and scarves, and thick socks. You watch her out of the corner of your eye, bundled up in Genshin-themed pyjamas and homemade socks, eyes furrowed in concentration behind her glasses as her needles clack.

You think she's planning something for Christmas; Tsumugi often makes a habit of checking your measurements for when she wants to craft matching cosplays for the both of you, but she's been doing it a little more frequently this month. She's also taken to doing a lot of her work in the bedroom rather than the living room, and hurriedly tossing it aside when you enter. You have to bite back a smile every time.

Still, you don't have to wait for too long. The day itself comes sooner than you're expecting, and you start it with pancakes and tea wrapped in blankets on your shared couch. The curtains are pulled open slightly, hailing the sprawling city below and a flurry of fresh snowfall and watery grey light. Tsumugi has her long, dark hair twisted back into two intricate twin braids on the back of her head, leaving her face open and pale and lovely.

You can't resist warming it with a kiss or two on her cheek, giving a pink tint to pale skin. She squirms and giggles under your advances, halfheartedly pushing you off—but when she finally pulls back and hides her face in her mug, you can see the tips of her ears burning red.

Finally, she reaches under the tree and hands you a package. It's a soft, heavy weight in your hands, wrapped in dark blue paper and tied with a white bow. Tsumugi perks up excitedly as you begin to unwrap it, carefully making sure not to tear the paper—you know she likes to reuse it. As it unfolds, your fingers brush soft, knitted wool, and you grin.

It's a sweater. Navy blue, dotted with white stars, and spelled out in slightly wobbly letters across the front: I GOT MY GIRLFRIEND INTO KNITTING AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY SWEATER.

Tsumugi squeals when you burst into peals of laughter. "What?" she cries. "What is it? Do you like it? Do you hate it? What?!"

"I love it, idiot," you gasp between hacking mirth, taking a moment to grasp her face between your hands. "For the love of... okay, help me get it on!"

She squeals again when you strip your shirt off, but this time she quickly snaps back into action. Carefully, as though the thing were made of glass, she helps you slide the sweater down over your head, threads your arms through the sleeves. It settles over you, enveloping you in a soft, warm exhalation, drooping around your wrists, fitting perfectly to every dip, curve, and swell. You can feel the soft brush of Tsumugi's hands as they adjust and tug.

Slowly, tentatively, the brush of her lips on the nape of your neck. And you're warm all over, and it has little to do with the sweater.

"I love it," you say again, quieter this time. Tsumugi beams, tears making her dark eyes look starry, and slips her hands beneath the sweater to rest on the skin of your stomach. "I love you."

"Mmm," she murmurs, happily nesting her face into the crook of your neck. "I love you, too. Merry Christmas."

[mousegard]

out of all the irritating things about elon musk the pettiest by far but also the most galling is his utter lack of anything even remotely resembling taste. everything he owns and makes looks like cheap, chintzy, plastic crap. he's one of the richest men in the world but he keeps a cheap mass-produced replica of a gun from a video game on his nightstand to impress his sycophants, goes to costume parties wearing outfits that wouldn't look out of place on the racks at spirit halloween, and takes pictures of himself posing with the second-cheapest katana you can find on amazon dot com. no matter where he goes or what he wears he looks like a slob. he is a tackiness elemental. he is the personification of every hokey garbage product you see youtube influencers hocking wrapped in a plastic shopping bag. you could dress him in the finest clothes in the world, perfectly tailored for a perfect fit, and he would make it look like cosplay that was thrown together in five minutes out of the bargain bin of a platos closet. he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth that he has coated with spray paint to make it look exactly like the plastic spoon you get with your frosty at wendys. he makes donald trump's pathetically tacky aesthetics look like the height of elegance. he makes notch's empty mansion full of rotting candy look like the palace of versailles. he is all the worst parts of reddit and 4chan given life. he is a goon who wasn't good enough to hack it on the somethingawful forums. he isn't low culture, he's subterranean culture

[ausetkmt]

The Daily Dot: ‘It was the best Chipotle bowl I’ve ever had’: Customer shares why she uses the name ‘Sue Walker’ on her Chipotle order

[sorairoknife]

any cosplays youve been wanting to do?

I've been meaning to cosplay Rei Ayanami for the past...seven years? It'll happen someday. My Haruhi cosplay will happen too trust me

Also, Ciel's nun outfit! I could cosplay her uniform look out of my closet but meh it's not that cool

And now that I've watched dot hack I also want to cosplay Tsukasa, it seems like a comfy outfit and I think it would be fun

[emeraldhookphotography]

Blast From The Past -- Cosplay

Dot./Hack

Emerald Hook Photography

[pupusukka]

Cosplay of angry spike boi aka Haseo from .hack//G.U. Even tho the full leather outfit has its own cons I am still most at home in this cosplay since I can relate to Haseo's teen anger so much Gorgeous cosplay made by @pyllymursu Photographer @OrwellianStuff 

[emberra]

Cosplayed as Elk from .hack// this weekend at Anime North!

[hellbabyfromhell]

to cosplay list:

meryl from mgs1

michel waters from illbleed

kumatora from mother 3

mireille from dot hack

[zeldamomoe]

"That wasn't Aromatic Grass...right?" 👀🌿🌱🌾

I got so annoyed at Elk saying that every time I went to a dungeon w/him😂 Here's some Elk photoshoot pics from last year. Thanks again to @royalspacefish for gifting their cosplay to me!

📷My partner Raph, edits by me!

[selflit-glasses]

we took wedding photos because we need our best wishes ending.  Haseo: @the-terror-0f-death Ovan: Myself! (who’s also behind @amberenigma :3c)

[miracul0us-multishipper]

You (Part 2)

Now you see me, now you don’t!

Part 1 | AO3

Felix Graham De Vanily was, in his own humble opinion, special. 

He was smart.

He was composed.

He knew exactly what to say and when, and he could make people see exactly what he wanted them to see.

He wasn’t his cousin, after all, almost identical looks aside. Adrien never knew when to speak up, or when it was better to stay quiet. Never knew how to hide his thoughts and keep his - utterly unrealistic, when it came to his father - hopes in check. And he might be smarter than Felix gave him credit for, but all that intelligence left him as soon as his friends were concerned.

That was what all his flaws boiled down to, really.

Adrien made the fatal, unforgiving mistake of caring too much. Always had.

(It was what Felix liked about him, deep down. Adrien was genuine, in everything he felt. Felix envied him for the ease with which he made friends.)

But.

Felix wasn’t like Adrien at all. He was too smart to care for people - his mother aside - any more than he had to. Mundane distractions. Friends, crushes - all things that would only deter him from his path in life: high above the crowd, always the center of attention, yet unreachable. Playing everyone, but gone before anybody noticed.

It was a glorious but lonely road. No, scratch that. It was a lonely but glorious road. Much better.

He didn’t need anything or anyone.

He was the sole and solemn genius of the family.

He was a magician, who didn’t need any fancy jewelry to work miracles - just the right distraction and disguise.

He was-

“Ow!”

Groaning Felix looked at the little bite marks on his finger. 

“Were you even listening?! Or did you just wait for an opportunity to stab me in the back?”

The black and white bundle of fur and betrayal on his lap meowed and swiped at his hand, now out of reach.

 “I knew you couldn’t be trusted.”, he grumbled and shoved the traitor off of his legs, but couldn’t help but smile when he smugly licked his nose - as if to say: I'd do it again. “I raised you too well. Now, where was I?”

He sighed.

“Ah, yes. I don’t care for anyone - please stop scratching that ear, honey, it’s not healed yet - because I'm just too smart for that. So it’s utterly impossible that I, Felix Graham de Vanily, am in love with Dupain-Cheng. Got it?”

His cat, the little bastard, answered by knocking his pencil box over and started to chew on a pen. Felix narrowed his eyes.

“Oh? You dare doubt my word?”

With quick fingers he stole his cat's spoils and placed it out of his reach.

“Quite bold for a creature without opposable thumbs, hm?”

Insulted, the poor, thumbless pet retreated to his laptop and laid down on the keyboard - causing the screensaver to give way to the last opened tab. Which was Marinette's Instagram page.

“Wah!”

Hurried to hide the proof of his interest - as if she might somehow appear in his room if he looked at her picture for too long - he shooed his pet away and closed the tab. Said pet meowed smugly and, upset about being chased away from two spots already, sat down on his pillow. Great.

“You did that on purpose!”, he accused his cat. “But that tab proves nothing. It was merely a passing interest in her admittedly wearable work. It has nothing to do with any confessions - faked confessions, or that she can apparently recognize me in disguise, or the very neutral fact that she is cute, by some people's - not my own! - standards.”

His cat blinked. And sneezed onto his pillow.

“Bless you. Now move, or I’ll use you instead of a bunny for that hat trick I’m working on.”

Sighing, Felix let himself fall backwards onto his bed, grabbing the fleeing cat and burying his face in the fluffy fur.

“Oh, to be a cat!”, he wailed into his involuntary comfort pillow. “With no troubles except how to best annoy his owner.”

 The poor animal hissed and escaped his grasp, saving himself from the bitter fate of a comfort pillow.

 “Run, you uncaring monster.”, Felix sighed, “Leave me to my worries. Which don’t include Marinette at all, by the way.”

He sat up and watched as the little traitor turned to sulk on his dresser.

“Stop looking at me like that. Even if I had a short bout of interest - possibly even infatuation! It’s already all but cured.”

He nodded to himself, ignoring that the disinterested cat had begun cleaning his leg instead of listening.

“School's closed, after all!”, he hummed, scrolling through the news on his phone. “And social contacts are to be reduced to the bare minimum. So I’m not going to see her again before this passing interest has... well, passed.”

As if in response to his words, his laptop started to ring and the monitor lit up with the picture of blue, blue eyes and a smile that could melt the stars off of the sky. Not that he paid attention to such things.

“Oh no, no, no!”, he panted as he fell out of his bed and stumbled towards the computer. “Incoming Skype call?! Oh, come on!”

The ringtone repeated itself and Felix jumped.

“What am I gonna do? What am I gonna do?”

Panicking, he looked at his pet.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?!”

The addressed party blinked. And went back to licking his nuts.

“Argh! I am surrounded by incompetence!”

Taking a deep breath, Felix straightened his vest and cravat - just because he was staying at home for the foreseeable future didn’t mean that he would dress any less professionally.

“Who needs your advice anyway. I can do this.”

He straightened his back and sat down on the chair in front of his desk.

“I am Felix Graham de Vanily, the best actor in all of France and the United Kingdom, not in love with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and I can totally answer a Skype call.”

Before he could think again, he pressed the green button.

“Mademoiselle Dupain-Cheng!”, he greeted overly enthusiastic. “We meet again.”

“If you can call it that.”, Marinette laughed with the voice of a goddamn angel. She was wearing a white, polka-dotted pajama top, was illuminated by early-noon sunlight falling through some sort of window in the ceiling, and her hair – was – down.

If this was some sort of cosmic test, it wasn’t fair.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your virtual company?”, he said quickly, trying not to think too much about how her hair looked even softer than the fur of a certain cat. Then, for good measure, he added: “Miss me already?”

Marinette disappeared  for a moment, before returning with a sizable stack of papers.

“As much as I could do without my favorite pain in the neck, we have a school assignment to do. You know, since school is closed?”

She leaned in and he held his breath.

“Did you even notice? I haven’t seen you last Friday.”

What was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I noticed alright! It kept me from embarrassing myself by avoiding you, because my brain got all mushy ever since you fake-confessed to me pretending to be my cousin?

Ha! Fat chance.

“Aw, worried for me?”, he improvised, as usual, by being sarcastic. “Let me soothe your concern for your favorite pain in the neck: I merely got tired of cosplaying Adrien. I'm a very busy man, you see?”

She rolled her eyes and somehow managed to make it look cute.

“Of course you are. Well, hopefully not too busy for a presentation on marine biology, due next week.”

He blinked.

“Excuse me?”

“You know, the one Adrien and I are supposed to do?”

Felix Had Questions. For example:

“How was I supposed to know that?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hack into Adriens E-mail account. I saw you present homework that you couldn’t have known about if Madame Mendeleiev hadn’t emailed you, as Adrien.”

She raised an eyebrow, in a way that could almost be described as playful.

“Plus, you seem the type to do that.”

He scoffed and crossed his arms, as if it would hide his racing heartbeat.

“First of all: No, I am not breaking into my cousins account. I may like to prank him - or rather everyone, really - but that goes a little far. Secondly, that Lila girl was only too eager to do homework with Adrien-Me, so I could keep up with every assignment once I could get her hands off of me.”

“I thought a magician never revealed his tricks?”

True. But he had wanted to see if she would get jealous. Which she didn’t. Which was expected and totally fine by him. He didn’t care anyways.

Lucky for him, Marinette wanted to tease him more than an answer.

“Well, I hope your work ethic is better when it comes to presentations. I'll send you the materials!”

A click later, his laptop alerted him of One New Email, containing no less than twenty-two pages of material. He raised his eyebrows.

“Not to crush your little illusion of me as a hard-working student, but that looks like awfully tedious work. What makes you think I would voluntarily do homework meant for Prince Charming?”

The sassy little smirk she'd shown him during their battles of wit last week returned.

“You mean, aside from the fact that, once school is open again and Adrien is back, your little trick with pretending to be him will be revealed? And that I’m your best chance not to be chased out of town by a very angry Chloé Bourgeois? Not to start with Alya, Rose and Juleka, who still haven’t forgiven you for that stunt you pulled the last time you were here.”

Sound argument, he had to give her that.

“Pah!”, he said, just for the sake of irritating her. “So what? It’s not like it was my idea to move to Paris anyway!”

That was at least partially true. His mother had insisted to come back to France, mostly because she wanted to keep an eye on Gabriel. But he hadn’t been against it either.

It wasn’t like he had friends in London anyway, and in Paris it at least didn’t get boring, with all these butterflies and superheroes. Plus, he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he had missed Adrien. That boy could use a little family - once Felix was done pretending to be him. 

Marinette hummed and tapped her chin impatiently.

“Well, then see it as the prize you promised me after our little insult-match at the Trocadero.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”, he held up his hands. “I already settled that score, didn’t I? You confessed to me, remember?”

“I practiced confessing to Adrien with you, you mean.”, she reminded him with a raised eyebrow – Ouch, by the way – before leaning back in her pink chair. “And that was because you talked me into it. I never told you what I wanted, did I?”

Well, fuck. Not that the prospect of working with Marinette was that unpleasant, but in his current state of emotional confusion, it would only be detrimental. He needed an out, an excuse!

“Why would you want to work with me anyways? I would have thought you'd jump at the chance to do something with Prince Adrien of Dreamland. Why settle for the pain in the neck?”

Marinette sighed.

“Adrien is still recovering from his flu, and given the current, ah, global situation, I thought it would be better to put his health first. Besides, you're my favorite pain in the neck.”

“I'm flattered, darling”, he said, trying not to sound like it was as true as it was, “but-“

“Oh my gosh!”, Marinette interrupted him with a shout, and suddenly her eyes dominated the entire screen, as if she were mere millimeters away from her own computer. “Felix! What is that?!”

“Huh?”, he made, eloquent as usual. He turned around, just in time to see his traitorous cat jump from the dresser right onto his lap. Apparently, now that Felix had someone else to talk to, the little bastard felt neglected. 

“You mean him?”, he asked, turning back to the screen with the cat in his lap. An inhuman squeal came from the other side of the line and Marinette sacked back into her chair, which spun around its axis, like, three times in a single second.

“Felix Graham de Vanily!”, she said with all but glowing eyes. “Show – me – the cat!”

Since her voice made absolutely clear that it had been an order and Felix had always had a strong survival instinct, he obediently held up the little monster. Who let out a plaintive little “Mow”, but otherwise submitted to his fate.

“Oh my gosh!”, Marinette repeated, “He's adorable!”

“You think?”, Felix said dumbly, at a loss for how to react to this sudden change in situation.

“I do! I do! What's his name?”

“Uh...”, Felix thought, debating whether a lie would save his reputation. “Uhm...”

“Don’t tell me you named him Felix Junior!” She turned towards the cat in false exasperation. “Did he name you Felix Junior?!”

The cat that was most certainly not named Felix Junior meowed in his feline confusion.

“No, of course not!”, Felix snapped back, sinking into the chair as if it might have mercy and swallow him.

“Then what's his name? What, for God’s sake, is this pretty little kitty called?!”

What had his life turned into?

“'dini.”, he mumbled, hiding his face behind the cat.

“What? Speak louder!”, Marinette demanded, and so he accepted his fate.

“Houdini!”, he groaned in embarrassment. “I named him Houdini, alright? I was eleven!”

For a moment, the line went quiet. Then, inevitably, Marinette burst out in laughter.

“For real? I can’t believe it!”

Sulking, Felix turned away from the screen, but immediately Marinette stopped.

“No, no, no! Bring Houdini back! I love his name, okay? Give him back!”

“You're not telling anybody of him, got it?”, he hissed, cheeks as red as Ladybug's suit. Marinette snickered. 

“Of course, I promise. Houdini will be our little secret, alright? Now bring him back!”

Satisfied, Felix turned the chair back towards the laptop and placed Houdini on the desk. The curious thing didn’t hesitate to lounge onto his keyboard and examined the camera, much to Marinette’s delight.

“Oh lord, he's so cute!”

Felix sighed and leaned back.

“Believe me, he knows.”

“He looks just like you!”

At that, Felix spluttered and jumped up again.

“W-w-what?!”

Internally already setting up the equation: “Marinette thinks Houdini is cute, and Marinette thinks Houdini looks like Felix, then Marinette thinks Felix is cute?” he was about two seconds from fainting.

“He's got a little tie, see?”, Marinette giggled on, ignorant of the thought-spiral she'd sent him into. “Just like you!”

Oh. She meant the patterns of his fur, which admittedly looked a little like he was wearing a tie. Of course.

“Who's the most adorable thing in Paris? You are!”, Marinette continued with her shameless adoration of that undeserving little brat, who currently Mow-ed happily at the screen. Pah!

“Just so you know, he bites people for fun.”, Felix badmouthed his own pet, absolutely not because he was jealous. “You can’t trust him. He'll act sweet, but as soon as you're not looking he's got your fingers between his sharp little fangs!”

“Eh, I can handle it.”, Marinette shrugged and immediately went back to admiring Houdini. “You're a good kitty, aren’t you? The best, the best! Yes, you are!”

“No, he's not!”, Felix insisted through clenched teeth. “He's moody and arrogant! Nobody likes him, that's why I took him in! He thinks it’s fun to hurt people, he holds grudges forever and he's incredibly annoying when he's bored!”

Wait, was he still talking about the cat?

“You just like him because he looks all cute and innocent, but if you knew him, you'd never even want to be in the same room as him.”

Marinette had gone quiet on the other side, and Houdini narrowed his eyes at him in betrayal. Then she shrugged.

“If you don’t want him anymore, I'll take him in.”

“What?!”

She would have to pry the little shit out of his cold, dead hands!

“Did you not listen to a word I said?” he asked, trying not to let on that he didn’t actually dislike Houdini.

Marinette smiled.

“Sure. But I still think he's a good kitty.”

“But why?”

She hummed, pushing her stack of papers aside so she could put her elbows on the desk. Resting her chin on her hand, she looked up in him.

“Most cats are. You just got to give them a chance to come out of their shell.”

“But... But he's mean!”

“Maybe he's just lonely. Maybe he needs some friends, and then he'll learn to be nicer. I can wait.”

He was not blushing!

“Why would you want to? There's lots of better cats, you could just pick one of them right away.”

“Yeah, well, I want Houdini. All cats deserve a chance. Even the meaner ones.”

She smiled down at the black and white loaf that purred on his keyboard.

“In my experience, peop- cats only show their best sides if you give them a chance to open up. If you're too quick to brush them aside as hopeless, or mean, you might miss out on the most wonderful personalities underneath. And I think Houdini is one of those.”

And then, because the universe just wanted to see him fall, she winked at him. Jesus Christ!

“Anyway, I'll give you some time to read through the material I sent you. Message me once you’re done, we've got a lot of work ahead. Bye!”

Before he could realize what she had said, the window blanked and closed on him. Disappointed that his fan had vanished, Houdini meowed and returned once again to Felix' lap.

“Bye.”, Felix stammered belatedly. What had just... How could she go around just saying things like that? And then hang up?!

“Ugh, Houdini!”, he lamented. “Look what I have become!”

Reduced to a beetred, stammering, weird-cat-metaphor-using fool!

The cat gave a smug “Mrow” and headbutted him in the chin, but Felix didn’t have it in him to complain.

“Fine,” he sighed in defeat, “you win. So what if I like her?”

Houdini purred.

“You do too, don’t you? Bet you'd bite her anyway.”

He purred on, unperturbed.

“Knew it.”

He sighed once again.

“She's right, though. You are a good kitty. Deep down.”

Houdini meowed and licked his finger, just where he'd bitten him earlier.

“Well, now you're just sucking up to me! Two-faced little demon. Mwah!”

He pressed a small kiss to the top of his furry head, then rolled the chair closer to the desk and opened his emails.

“Alright, then.”, he tried to motivate himself, “let's show Marinette what a good kitty- what a good person we are and do our homework.”

At that, Houdini promptly stood up and jumped onto the bed, leaving him alone with twenty-two pages of reading material.

“Bastard.”

- - -

Bonus:

Ladybug, crashing through Felix' window: Felix Graham de Vanily!

Felix: Ladybug?!

Ladybug: I have it on good authority that you own a good kitty! It is crucial for the safety of Paris that I pet him right this instant!

Felix, remembering her right hook: ... sure?

[jinmukangwrites]

Bruised (1/?)

For @batboycentral <3

Whumptober day 10

Internal Bleeding

Ao3

Warnings: blood, nosebleeds, illness

-o-o-o-o-

The first time he noticed it, he didn't actually notice  it. Like, bruises were common in Tim's line of work. Sometimes, he'd wake up in the morning with enough purple splotches to almost look like he was trying out Cheetah cosplay.  Not  remembering where a bruise came from was just as frequent. When you went out close to every night to fight common street crime you're going to get hit very often. So often, that really, it would be impossible to remember where you've gotten every single bruise, cut, and ache. 

Tim waking up this morning to see his legs had large, dark bruises polka-dotting his pale skin was nothing out of the ordinary. 

He just looked at them, shrugged and wondered if he got that bruise sparring with Kon or if it was from stumbling on one of his lands last night while swinging roof to roof. 

Then he continued with the rest of his day, not even thinking about them. They were just bruises, what was the point of wasting brain power thinking about them? 

The second time he noticed it, he still didn't actually connect the dots. The only difference this time was that there were bruises on his arms as well. 

"That looks painful," Bart pointed out, literally and figuratively as Tim made himself breakfast that morning. He had to practically dance out of the way from having the bruise on the outside of his bicep poked. 

"It's just a bruise," Tim said, retreating from the Tower's kitchen counter with a bowl of cereal clutched in his hands. "People get them all the time."

Bart hummed and followed Tim to the table with a spark in his eyes that Tim didn't like. He'd have dodging practice early today, he guessed. 

Bart sat down next to Tim, kicking his legs under the table. "I don't get bruises like that. It's big"

"Because you're superhuman with a heightened healing factor," Tim deadpanned before stuffing his mouth full of captain crunch. 

"Oh yeah, I forget that sometimes."

“How do you just forget you have superpowers?!”

The third time he noticed it was when he actually began to wonder about it. For the past three days, he'd been  covered  in bruises. On his sides, limbs, even a persistent one on his cheek. And yes, he was used to being covered in bruises, but the bruises were starting to look strange, covered with little red dots that gave him the impression of acne hanging out right below the layers of his skin on his legs and arms. And it felt like he was getting bruised for  every  little thing. Cassie playfully punched his arm a little while earlier and he soon found himself scowling in the mirror, poking the dark stain of skin. Cassie punched hard, sure, but she knew her strength. Even when she was roughhousing, she knew how to make it so no one got hurt. 

And then, there was the fact that he woke up this time with bruises once again, but he hadn't gone out the night before. He stayed in to hack into the mainframes of various potentially corrupt companies of Jump City and their neighboring city of San Francisco that they occasionally patrol from time to time. He didn't do  anything  last night to warrant bruises. 

The third time he noticed it, he was more careful with it, because Tim  wasn't  dumb. He wasn't oblivious to his own body. His spleen was missing for crying out loud! That could change things about his health and how he pursued both his everyday life and his  night life. Common illnesses could be deadly. His body just didn't function the way it used to. 

But now, it wasn't just the bruises. It was also the new episodes of lightheadedness and weakness that he just… couldn't explain. He slept. Not a full 8 or even 7 hours of sleep every night but he still  slept  . He ate food. Good food, especially for dinner. Meats, vegetables, the whole shebang. It was impressive, actually, how well everyone at the Teen Titan's Tower ate, especially for being a bunch of, well, teenagers .

He shouldn't be that tired. Standing up shouldn't be a chore like it was beginning to become. 

And the others were noticing as well, which only served to worry Tim more about his own health. 

"Woah, you good?" Kon asked, grabbing Tim by the shoulders as he stumbled up from the couch and almost fell immediately backwards. 

Tim slapped his hands off, even though normally he always welcomed the company of Kon, but he was close to panicking. Something was wrong, and he was afraid to figure out what. "I'm fine," he replied, trying to keep a fearful snap out of his voice. Judging by the way Kon scowled, Tim wasn't to be believed. "I'm just… tired."

"Tired"?" Bart asked, zipping up from the couch and ending up right in front of Tim in the blink of an eye. Bart was scowling, looking up at Tim with narrowed eyes. "Tim Drake? Tired? I don't believe it."

"No, Tim's always tired," Cassie put in, her voice carefully level to the point Tim almost winced. "Tim admitting to being tired? Feels almost like sacrilege."

Bart nodded, like that was what he was thinking the entire time and Tim had to swallow down a deep sigh. He sniffed and stepped away from the others, folding his arms across his chest. "I think I'm just coming down with something." Oh no, Kon's frowning. Tim quickly continued, sniffing again.  Maybe. It's not a big deal. I'm just a little more tired than usual-" Tim sniffs once more as something wet begins to slide down the inside of his nostrils. Great. A runny nose? He reached the back of his hand up to his nose and wiped. "And feeling a little weak. But that's it. Just…"

All three of them were staring at him oddly now. He frowned.

"What?"

"Tim…" Cassie started, "your nose is bleeding."

"What?!"

Tim looked down at the hand he had used to wipe under his nose, and to his shock he saw a thin streak of red trailing down over his thumb joint, parallel to his pointer finger. Right next to one of his strange bruises.

He reached up to his nose, wiping once more. His eyes widened when his hand came away with more blood. He sniffed again, only this time he brought his hand back up to his nose and kept it there. "I'm gonna...  um…" 

"Go," Kon said, "we'll talk after."

Tim nodded, knowing there was no way his friends would let him off the hook now that he admitted to not feeling the greatest. He quickly rushed past them—sniffing and sorely hoping no blood would drop down onto his shirt and stain it—and eventually found himself inside one of the many bathrooms built into the Tower. Using his free hand, he grabbed a tissue and painstakingly folded it up a few times. He leaned over the sink as he finally let the hand cupping his nose fall away, and instantaneously a few drops fell into the sinks porcelain. He swiftly pressed the tissue over his nose and turned on the water to wash his now blood streaked hand. The water ran crimson to pink and back to clear. He turned off the water and carefully closed the toilet seat lid to sit down on the shaggy purple cover. He kept the napkin pressed tightly over his nose and leaned back against the wall, breathing through his mouth and fighting the dizzy feeling settling in his brain and on his chest. 

He could taste blood in his mouth. He hoped it was because the blood was dripping the wrong way down into his throat and not because of alternate reasons. He could see the dots. He didn't want to connect them. Not yet. He just had to wait for his bleeding nose to stop. Then he could start sorting out the symptoms. 

Unconsciously, he brought his free hand to his side, under his armpit and above his stomach, then ran his fingers over the scar placed there under his cotton tee-shirt. 

Please don't be related. Please oh  please don't be related. 

He exhaled, swallowing blood, and dragged his hand away to pull out his phone. He ignored the Google app and instead began to distract himself by checking the notifications on every other app he owned. Tumblr, Discord, Instagram, all of them. Every so often, he'd pull the napkin away from his nose just to immediately put it back when blood attempted to drip down. Eventually, he ran out of apps to laze through and opened his Email, however he immediately gained a headache when he saw most of them belonged to Wayne Enterprises. 

After quickly changing the napkin for a new one once his fingertips began to feel wet, he opened the Play Store and downloaded the first mindless game he could tap on. 

He was in the middle of figuring out where the sevens could go in his solitaire game when a knock on the door caught his attention. He lowered his phone and turned towards the door. "Yeah?" He yelled, his voice nasally thanks to the tissue still squeezing his nostrils shut. 

"You good?" 

Kon's voice. He sounded concerned. 

"Um, yeah?"

A beat of silence. Then a clearing of a throat. "You're still bleeding?" 

Tim almost hummed, but that would shoot gore out of his nose. So he clicked his tongue instead. "Yeah. A- a little."

More silence. "Do… do noses usually bleed this long?" 

And not for the first time does Tim regret making friends with mostly superheroes who are, in fact, super. With their indestructible skin, healing factors, and amazing feats of strength, it was sometimes hard for them to comprehend how plain old humans with no abilities acted in certain situations. What plain old humans with no abilities needed to keep physically healthy. He loved his friends, no doubt about it, but questions like  do noses bleed for this long  gets his head spinning with the realization that this was his life.

Tim tucked his phone away in his pocket. "Um, depends. Really." 

He should open the door. Talk to Kon face to face. He sounded genuinely hung up on Tim's health. Talking directly with each other should help calm Kon down at least. He put his hand on the counter next to him and used it to lift himself up. 

Once his butt left the toilet seat, he knew he had just made a mistake. The world swirled and his head suddenly began to pound. He wasn't sure if he blinked, or even blacked out, but he did know that one moment he was halfway to sitting and the next he was on the ground with his legs crumbled beneath him, blinking cobwebs from his dizzied brain as the door suddenly slammed open. 

And that was another thing about being a part of both a team and a friend group of supers. They sometimes underestimated how much a plain old human with no abilities could take. Though this time, Tim was pretty sure the worry on Connors face was for good reason. Those poor door hinges though… they’d need replacing...

There was a warm, copper tasting liquid dripping down over his lips and off his chin. During the confusion, his hand holding the napkin had ended up limp by his side, his body having forgotten to hold it over his nose while he blanked out and fell. At the back of his far away head, he knew that the amount of blood dripping from his nose, especially considering how long he's sat here with his fingers pinching it shut, was way more than what should be normal. 

It took a tremendous amount of energy to lift his eyes up to Kon, who at this point had ended up in front of Tim, kneeling with hands lifted and eyes wide. 

"Are you okay?" Kon was asking. His voice teetered the line of hysterics. 

Tim brought his hand up to his face and tried to wipe away the blood to open his mouth, but all he did was smear the liquid over his hands and face. His heart pounded as he leveled his gaze into Kon's eyes. He thought of the bruises, and rash like dots on his arms and legs. He thought of his spleen, of the lack of it. He thought about his compromised immune system. He thought about the dizzy spells. The weakness. He thought about how his nose should have stopped bleeding by now. 

"I think… I think I need a hospital.

-o-o-o-o-

End of chapter one. More will update after whumptober is finished. Please do not ask to be put on a tag list.

[ask-de-writer]

CRAWFEATHER! : MLP Fan Fiction

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CRAWFEATHER!

by

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

1382 words

© 2019 by Glen Ten-Eyck

Writing begun 10/16/19

All rights reserved.  This document may not be copied or distributed on or to any medium or placed in any mass storage system except by the express written consent of the author.

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Copyright fair use rules for Tumblr users

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights.  They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact.  They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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Cory grinned meanly as he bounced the heavy bag from hoof to hoof while he offered, “Yah, I got the money that I owes you, Canter.  It's right here.  Not gonna pay you, though.  Not yet.  I means, it is Nightmare Night.  I will give you the money first thing in the morning.  Just spend the night in the old Crawfeather place.  Should be a piece of cake, after all, you don't believe in ghosts, so you says.”

“You are on, Cory.  But make it 300, if you make me stay in there for the night!”

“You got it, Canter, if you stay the night, I'll make it 300 when you come out at dawn.”

Now he was creeping down one of the empty hallways of the long abandoned mansion of Crawfeather.  The darkness relieved only by the single candle held in Canter's magic.  Old furniture mostly covered by aged dust covers dotted the passage.  He shivered, and it was not from the cold.  He was wishing that he had not taken the dare to spend this Nightmare Night in the reputedly haunted Crawfeather mansion.  Still, 300 golden bits was 300 golden bits.

Canter remembered all too vividly the ghastly past of this place.  The land that the mansion was built on was originally owned by the Bordens, back in the very earliest days of Ponyville, before there was any sort of formal town.

After the Apple Clan had demonstrated the value of the land in the area for farming by creating one of the most productive apple orchards in Equestria, the land rush was on!  The Bordens had claimed a big area and invested all that they had into clearing the land.  It proved to be too stony for any sort of farm.  It wasn't just loose surface stone either.  Rough upthrust sedimentary rock made up most of it. Clyde's attempts to sell it to newcomers became a local joke.

Clyde Borden put the land up in a card game and lost it to Jason Crawfeather.  For weeks afterwards, Clyde crowed about how bad Jason was taken in by winning that worthless land.  Jason and his family quietly ignored him and set industriously to work.  It was not too long before the Crawfeather Quarry was supplying the good building stone for foundations and nicely split slates for stout, weatherproof roofs that the rapidly growing community of Ponyville needed.

The fortune earned by the Crawfeathers and the resentment of the Bordens stoked the flames of the feud that followed.  The orgy of murder was started by Poxy, one of Clyde's grown colts.  

Swinging an ax, he charged into the Crawfeathers and some guests, who were dining on their plaza!  By the time that it was over, Chance Crawfeather was carried up to his room, his life blood soaking the sheets and bolster of his bed as he died.

Sweetbriar Crawfeather, Jason's wife was laid out in the great room.  One of the guests was a doctor who managed to stanch her wounds and saved her life.  She would carry those scars to her grave.

Poxy was caught before he could escape.  Three strong unicorns from the quarry held him down while Jason brained him with his own ax.

Pretending serious remorse for the actions of her brother, Lisset Borden came to serve the remaining Crawfeathers as a maid.  She soon learned that all three of them, Jason, Sweetbriar, and their remaining filly, Sunblossom had a fondness for tomato soup.  She served the unsuspecting family a tasty soup of tomatoes, basil, and a strong portion of poison hemlock.

Sunblossom collapsed at the table.  In spite of the pangs from her own stomach, Sweetbriar assisted Sunblossom up to her room.  In her attempt to appear innocent, Lisset helped her too.

Jason, in spite of the agony in his own innards, called for help from the house staff.  It took them only moments to find the bottle that had contained the deadly concoction.  They captured Lisset as she was coming down the stairs.  Lisset was made to drink the soup that remained.  She was dead before the ghastly wails of Sweetbriar announced the passing of Sunblossom.

Both Jason and Sweetbriar were ill for weeks before they recovered from the effects of the hemlock.  In one regard Sweetbriar never recovered.  Seeing both of her foals murdered by ax and poison drove her into madness.

She was known to haunt the rooms where they died and sought them about the mansion and their play yard.  She even went down into the quarry seeking her “lost” foals.  Most watched her with pity.

Searching the play yard again, as the year was passing into autumn, Sweetbriar stumbled on something concealed from her sight by her madness.  The headstones of her missing foals, Chance and Sunblossom could no longer be denied.  She avidly read what was on each stone.  Instead of wailing her loss, her heart became harder than the stones of the Crawfeather Quarry.

On a late autumn night with no moon to betray her, Sweetbriar sneaked down into the developing town of Ponyville.  Unseen by any, she poured lamp oil over the front porch and back stoop of the Borden house and set it ablaze.  Cunningly, she did not stay to see how her plot played out but repaired back to Crawfeather, avoiding the many foals out in fanciful costumes.

Entering the house, she beheld the horrid sight of Clyde Borden hacking at the dead body of her beloved Jason with a double bit ax!  She seized the weapon from his grasp as he pulled back for another stroke!  With the power of her rage and madness, she took Clyde's head from his body in a single stroke!

She dropped the ax, which stuck upright in the floor boards.  In her struggles to drag the corpse of the assassin off of her husband's body, her feet slipped in the spilled gore and she lost her footing! She fell on the ax and the razor sharp blade cut her throat!

The house staff and their foals returned from their Nightmare Night, which had been made more exciting by the deadly house fire that had destroyed the Borden house and, apparently all the remaining Bordens!

The town's newly appointed constables had far more to deal with than the usual Nightmare Night pranks.  At least the feud would go no further. Neither Borden nor Crawfeather remained alive to carry it on.

Canter's reverie was broken by the creaking of hinges.  His ears straining to hear more failed to spot any further sound.  This was not the first such sound that he'd heard, either.  He had traced the first ones to open windows upstairs and drafts making old doors swing.

There was a creaking floorboard behind him!  Whirling about in startlement he saw . . . Cory!

“Just checking up on you, Canter.  Realized that you are missing out on Nightmare Night partying.  Brought you a little to make up for it. Here.  Got you something to drink in the bottle and a bunch of candies.”

“Nice of you, Cory.”

As Canter took the bag, the knife that Cory was hiding behind it plunged up, through the bottom of his jaw and into his brain through the weak area of skull on the underside!

Canter collapsed, dead before he hit the floor.

Cory's gloat of, “Looks like that money stays mine!  You ain't going to see the dawn . . .” was interrupted!

Screaming foals in Nightmare Night costumes ran from the old parlor and out into the night!  The last one bucked the doors shut!  The locking click of the latch was like a trump of doom!  Cory was panting frantically and pounding on the door when the old handle turned.  The opened door showed a brace of constables waiting to take him to jail.

Canter looked about, sort of puzzled.  Everything was sort of gray, in spite of which, he could see clearly.  There was a pony before him, also gone gray, and a good thing. He had several huge wounds.  At least he was not bleeding from them.  Canter could see furniture through him.

He invited, “Canter, right?  I am Jason.  Why don't you come with me and meet the rest of the family?”

~THE END~

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