#hopefully it’ll make up for this abomination

[kaeruandtopo]

ahahahhhaaaaaaa

Ok I’m going to post this and then leave forever because I know I will hate it and tear it to shreds (aka delete it) once I see it on the blog 😭😭😭😭

anyways have hk (or don’t bc I drew him terribly and it’s perfectly understandable why u wouldn’t want him 😔)

lol anyways have a great day everyone! cyu in the next oneeeee <333333

-topo

edit: (slightly better vers. under cut)

took away the weird shading I did and it looks a bit better?

honestly I think I’ll stick to rough sketches on digital for now lol

ANOTHER EDIT; HAHAHHA NOPE IM TRYING AGAIN JS YALL WAIT

my mentor the goat @ssavaart taught me to never give up and that’s just what imma do 💪💪💪

[still-breathing-au-p3r]

A figure surges into existence behind Aragaki, black and bronze and earthen red.

Castor’s mount had been unmoving iron, but this Persona sits astride a horse that tosses its head and slashes at the air with its gleaming hooves.

A round shield is strapped to one of its arms, and that same hand brandishes a long, glinting spear. The other hand grips the reins; tucked under that arm is a fearsome helmet fashioned to resemble a horse’s skull, polished to mirror brightness and crowned with a tall red crest.

There’s a hole in the center of the figure’s armored chest, and within it floats an elegantly carved lance, glittering like garnet.

The most striking change of all is the face: Castor’s hollow skeletal stare replaced by the face of a living man with noble features and a neatly trimmed beard, his expression at once both stern and serene.

Aragaki’s Persona shifts in its saddle and swings the point of its spear at the charging Shadow.

The concussive boom of Heat Wave rattles the bricks under Minato and the teeth in his gums, and then the Shadow simply is not there anymore. All that remains is a fine layer of gritty black soot fanning out across the courtyard.

Oh, right. Aragaki can just– do that.

It’s been so long since they’d last fought together that Minato had almost forgotten how ridiculously strong he is.

“Holy shit, Senpai.” The words come out slurred, mushy, and awestruck.

Aragaki sinks down to his knees and laughs between ragged breaths, tired but loud and genuine. It turns into a short burst of dry coughing that he has to bury into his sleeve, but doesn’t seem like he’s in pain again– just winded and thoroughly exhausted.

“Never heard you swear before,” he says, shifting his weight around to sit instead of kneel, his evoker scraping against the concrete before he returns it to its holster. He digs through one of his pockets and tosses something small and shining towards Minato. “Here, I think you need this more than– well don’t lose it, dumbass. I only brought one of those.” The exasperation in Aragaki’s tone is undercut by mirth.

Minato manages to get his hand on the bead after only a few seconds of fumbling for it– five if he’s charitable, seven if he’s honest. He crushes it under the heel of his hand and its cool, balmy magic washes over him, rinsing away his dizziness and the pain of his broken arm.

Once he’s back on his feet, Minato summons Hariti to return the favor. Aragaki’s whole body goes slack with relief as the spell settles over him. Minato doesn’t duck down to try and lift Aragaki from the ground this time, just offers his hand. Aragaki takes it without complaint and pulls himself upright.

“Aragaki-senpai, that was incredible!” Fuuka enthuses. Minato can practically see her bouncing in place and clapping.

“You did it,” he follows up.

Minato catches the hint of a smile on Aragaki’s face before he covers it with his hand under the pretense of wiping away sweat from his upper lip. 

“Yeah well, I felt kinda sorry for you, watchin’ you eat dirt like that. I couldn’t let that– whatever-the-hell thing just get away with it. So…yeah. I guess I did.”

He’s reminded of Yukari again– the first time she had used Theurgy, swooping in and saving his life when he was knocked down. Minato can’t prevent a soft smile of his own from creeping along his mouth.

Part of it is that the realization of just how many similarities there are between Yukari and Aragaki, of all people, is a very funny one, and part of it is that–

That it’s really nice to feel so cared for.

“How do you feel?” Minato asks.

“Like I got hit by a damn train.” Aragaki rolls his neck until it makes a truly abominable cracking sound. “...Better than I have in a while,” he amends softly. “Probably still got a ways to go, it’s not like I’m cured or anything. But… I think it’ll be easier now. Hopefully.”

Minato nods. Finally summoning his Persona again wouldn’t just magically erase all of the terrible things that led Aragaki to this point. It’s still going to take some time, but– as far as first steps go, this is a pretty great one.

“Anything else we oughta watch out for, Yamagishi?”

“No, I don’t think so. All Shadow activity in the tower is currently normal, so it doesn’t look like you attracted any more attention. And there’s less than thirty seconds until the Dark Hour ends.”

Just as Fuuka finishes speaking, the light changes from brackish green to the normal silver-blue of midnight. A cricket begins to chirp nearby. A breeze that had been trapped in the Dark Hour’s stillness picks up again, sending a few brown leaves skittering along the ground. Aragaki shivers and tugs the edges of his coat together against it.

They both take a minute to assure Fuuka that she doesn’t need to wait up for them and should go ahead and get some rest.

“C’mon, we’d better get movin’,” Aragaki says once Fuuka’s line goes dormant, glancing over at the school doors. “Last thing we need is security to spot us.” He starts off in the direction of the dorms; Minato follows.

“So. Hector…?” Minato nudges.

“Of Troy.” Aragaki rolls his eyes, but Minato isn’t fooled. He can spot the begrudging fondness in the gesture as clearly as anything, although he is a little surprised not to be called nosy again. “You wanna know more, you’re better off doing your own research. Don’t have the energy for tellin’ bedtime stories right now.”

Minato definitely can’t blame him for that. He’ll have to remember to look it up tomorrow, or perhaps ask Fuuka. …Hopefully he’ll remember to.

They continue on in silence for a while, until a splotch of light and color in the corner of Minato’s eye captures his attention. He breaks away and angles towards the source, digging around in his pocket.

“What the hell are you doin’?” Aragaki grumbles as Minato slots the first of his coins into the vending machine.

“I’m thirsty– that’s why I was up. I never got to grab something to drink, though. I got distracted,” he adds gravely. Aragaki replies only with an incredulous grunt. “Do you want anything, Senpai?”

“Y’know what, sure,” Aragaki sighs, sounding defeated. “Whatever’s fine. Pick something for me.”

Minato nods and slides another coin into the machine. A moment later he’s depositing a can into Aragaki’s palm. Aragaki snorts at the label.

“Mad Bull. Hilarious.”

Minato nods with sage dignity. “I know,” he says. Aragaki tries to cover up his laugh with a cough, but he still can’t fool Minato. 

He holds out his can for a toast. Aragaki stares at it flatly for a long moment, but he does return the gesture, clinking the edge of his can against Minato’s before they open them.

[chaos-chloe]

I had a shower thought! What if the reader walks in on stream with matching outfits as one of the clooless pets?

I swear girlfriend i love you and your brain! This is something otherworldly cute-ness! Hopefully you wouldn't mind me doing 3/4 of the guys, i couldn't just do one of them. I forgot if Grizzy has a pet or not... if he does I'll add him later on and re-blog when its up! Enjoy lovelies! <3

Operation Dress-Up

Summary: You maybe steal their pet for uhh research purposes?

TW: plantoic!reader, nicknames,

Pezzy:

The familiar hum of Pezzy's livestream vibrated through the thin apartment walls. It was a constant, soothing backdrop to our lives, usually filled with the frenetic energy of button-mashing and excited commentary. But today, it was the calm, even tones of his "Just Chatting" segment, lulling me into the perfect mood for a bit of mischief.

My target: Sly. Pezzy's fluffy and pretty cat, a creature of regal disdain and surprising affection. And the mission: to transform her and myself into matching Huggy Wuggy abominations.

I crept towards his door, a mischievous grin playing on my lips. Pezzy considered me a little sister, someone to tease and protect in equal measure. And like any good sibling, I knew exactly how to push his buttons (especially the ones related to his meticulously curated streamer image).

Peeking inside, I saw Pezzy settled in his gaming chair, illuminated by the glow of his monitor. He was relaxed, chatting with his viewers about his upcoming Poppy Playtime speedrun, completely oblivious to the impending feline heist.

Sly, looking at the picture of feline apathy, was perched on his lap. Perfect.

I took a deep breath and slipped inside. “Pezzy!” I chirped, trying to sound as innocent as possible. “Can I, uh, borrow Sly for a sec? Need her for a, uh, very important… photoshoot.”

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “A photoshoot? For what, exactly? Is this one of your 'artistic endeavors' that usually involve glitter and my good cooking pots?”

“Maybe,” I conceded, batting my eyelashes. “Please? It’ll only take a minute.”

He sighed, defeated. "Fine, fine. But if I see her wearing anything even remotely resembling a tutu, I am cutting you off from my secret stash of mozzarella sticks."

I practically squealed, grabbing Sly from his lap before he could change his mind. "You're the best, Pezzy!" I yelled over my shoulder, hustling out of his room and into my own, a giggle bubbling up in my throat.

Sly, surprisingly, didn't resist. Maybe she sensed the impending chaos and decided to embrace it.

Inside my room, the matching Huggy Wuggy costumes lay spread out on my bed. I’d spent the better part of the afternoon sewing them. They were gloriously, terribly, perfect. Mine was a slightly oversized onesie, a riot of bright blue fluff and oversized teeth. Sly's was…let’s just say it was adapted for feline anatomy. It involved a lot of strategically placed Velcro.

“Okay, Sly,” I said, holding up her costume. “Let’s get you looking…terrifyingly adorable.”

Despite her initial skepticism (expressed in the form of a low growl), Sly eventually succumbed to my persistent coaxing. It wasn't pretty. There was a lot of wriggling, a few well-placed hisses, and one near-scratch to my hand, but eventually, she was transformed into a mini-Huggy Wuggy, her normally sleek fur almost entirely obscured by blue fluff.

The pièce de résistance, however, was the cardboard box. I'd found a small, sturdy box and painted it with geometric patterns to resemble the mythic cubes from Poppy Playtime. After securing it to Sly's back with some carefully placed straps, she looked like a tiny, fuzzy pack mule carrying a precious, pixelated cargo.

I dressed myself in my matching costume, the bright blue fluff immediately making me feel like a giant, cuddly monster. Together, Sly and I made a truly terrifying (and hilarious) sight.

Taking a deep breath, I threw open my door and stormed back into Pezzy's room.

He yelped, jumping back in his chair. "What the-?! What is THAT?!"

His chat exploded with laughter and confused emojis.

"We are the Huggy Wuggy duo!" I declared, holding Sly aloft like a prized trophy. “And Sly has brought you��the mythic cube!”

Sly, bless her heart, just blinked languidly at him, utterly unconcerned with the chaos she was unleashing.

Pezzy stared at us, speechless for a moment. Then, a slow smile spread across his face. He couldn't help but laugh.

"Okay, you win," he said, shaking his head. "That's...that's actually amazing. And Sly, you're rocking that cube." He looked at his chat. "Well, folks, I think we have a new co-streamer. Meet the Huggy Wuggy duo, ready to help me conquer Poppy Playtime, one mythic cube at a time!"

Sly, as if on cue, let out a dramatic yawn, the cardboard cube wobbling precariously on her back.

I couldn't resist. I swooped in and gave Pezzy a giant, fluffy hug. "Love you, Pezzy!"

He chuckled, patting my back. "Yeah, yeah. Love you too, you terrifying fluffball. Now, get that cat off me before she claws my eyes out."

As the chat continued to erupt with laughter and demands for more Sly-cam, I knew one thing for sure: this was going to be a very entertaining stream. And I, along with my furry, cubic accomplice, was ready to steal the show.

Puffer:

The rhythmic click-clack of Cal's tiny claws against the hardwood floor was the only sound punctuating the tense silence. I held the cat, dressed in a ridiculously adorable Charizard costume, a miniature flame tail bobbing with each purr. I, of course, was sporting a Mega Charizard Y version, a spikier, more intimidating take on the classic fire-type. Cal seemed blissfully unaware of the parallel fashion statement.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door. "Puffer? You decent?"

Silence. Then, a muffled, "One sec!"

My roommate, BigPuffer, a titan of a man who somehow managed to exude a comforting, almost paternal, aura, even with his gaming headsets and oversized hoodies, thought of me as a little sister. He had affectionately dubbed me "Squirt" when I first moved in, a reference to my nervous tendencies. He was also a wildly popular streamer, known for his chill vibes and genuinely wholesome commentary, even though he yells at them ALOT!

The door swung open, revealing Puffer surrounded by the glow of his elaborate streaming setup. His eyes widened behind his glasses as he took in the sight of me and Cal.

"Squirt? What's up?" he asked, his voice just a touch louder than usual, a telltale sign he was trying to maintain a professional demeanor for his audience.

I held up Cal. "Look what I got! Matching Halloween costumes! You're a huge Charizard fan, right? I thought it would be funny."

Cal, oblivious to the potential awkwardness, reached out a paw and batted at the microphone.

Puffer's eyes darted between me, Cal, and the chat window visible on his monitor. I could practically see the gears turning in his head. He usually kept his personal life separate from his stream, but this was...unexpected.

"Uh, chat, give me a second," he mumbled, turning away from the camera slightly. "Squirt, you know I'm streaming, right?"

"Yeah, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to say hi. And look! You could introduce Cal as, like, Ash's Charizard!" I chirped, completely missing the subtle panic in his eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. "Okay, okay. This is adorable. But... maybe later, Squirt? I'm in the middle of a pretty intense raid boss fight."

I frowned. "But... we're matching. You're missing out on peak meme potential!" I raised Cal higher, as if demonstrating his undeniable cuteness.

Suddenly, his chat exploded. A flurry of donations and messages flooded the screen.

xXx_PikachuMaster_xXx: IS THAT CAL?!?!?!

CharizardIsMyWaifu: OMG CAL IN A CHARIZARD COSTUME I'M GONNA CRY

SleepyEevee: Puffer we demand to see the roommate!

Puffer groaned, running a hand down his face. He looked utterly defeated. "Okay, chat, okay. You win." He turned back to me, a resigned smile on his face. "Alright, Squirt. Fine. But you have to promise to not roast me too hard on air."

I grinned, victorious. "Deal."

He gestured for me to come in. "Chat, meet Squirt. She's... well, she's basically my little sister. And yes, that is Cal dressed as Charizard." He paused, taking a deep breath. "And apparently, she's cosplaying as Mega Charizard Y."

The chat went wild. Emotes of exploding hearts and laughing faces filled the screen.

"Hi, chat!" I said, waving enthusiastically, almost knocking over a stack of energy drink cans. "Puffer's been teaching me how to play Pokémon Go. He says I have a real knack for catching Weedles."

Puffer chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't listen to her, chat. She's a menace."

He picked up Cal, who promptly snuggled into his neck. "Alright, chat, you got your wish. Now, let's get back to this raid boss before we wipe. Squirt, you wanna stick around?"

"Totally! Can I commentate?" I asked, my eyes sparkling with mischief.

Puffer looked at the chat, which was already chanting "SQUIRT COMMENTARY! SQUIRT COMMENTARY!"

He sighed, but this time, it was a genuine, fond sigh. "Fine. But if we lose, I'm blaming you."

And so, I spent the next hour commentating on Puffer's raid, dressed as Mega Charizard Y, holding Cal, dressed as regular Charizard, while BigPuffer, the gentle giant, battled digital monsters and tried not to spill his energy drink. It was chaotic, ridiculous, and undeniably, perfectly us. And for the first time, I understood why Puffer was so popular. He wasn't just a streamer; he created a community, a family, bound together by shared laughter and a mutual love of all things nerdy.

Droid:

I pushed the door open, and immediately, the scent of freshly opened Pokemon cards hit me. Droid sat hunched over his streaming setup, surrounded by stacks of empty booster packs. He looked up, his eyes widening behind his own – much less ridiculous – pair of blue and green glasses. The live stream comments were already going ballistic in the corner of his monitor.

Then he saw Oso.

His own German Shepherd, usually a picture of stoic dignity, was now wearing a miniature version of the same blue and green hoodie I was sporting. He looked deeply unimpressed.

Droid’s jaw dropped. He pointed a trembling finger at me, then at Oso. "No...no way! Is that...is that MY logo?!"

The live stream chat exploded. Emotes of dogs with mismatched glasses flooded the screen. Viewers were spamming "PogChamp" and "LUL."

"Happy birthday, Droid!" I yelled over the digital cacophony, trying to maintain my balance in the oversized hoodie. "I thought I'd give you a surprise!"

Droid's face broke into a huge grin. "This... this is the best gift ever!" He slapped the table, nearly knocking over a stack of holographic cards. "Chat, say hello to my amazing best friend/sister, [Your Nickname]! And her adorable co-star, Oso!"

Oso, bless his heart, let out a weary sigh, the tiny hoodie rustling with the movement.

Droid scrambled to adjust his camera. "We gotta get a better shot! Come on, [Your Nickname], get over here!"

I cautiously approached his desk, trying not to trip over the mountain of cardboard. Droid pulled me into a hug, nearly suffocating me in the process.

"You're the best, seriously," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine affection. "But you know I have to ask... why?"

I shrugged, trying to keep the glasses from sliding off my face again. "You always say you're like a dog with glasses looking for the best cards, right? Thought I'd bring your logo to life! Plus, Oso looks kinda cute, even if he doesn't think so."

Droid laughed, a genuine, booming laugh that filled the small office. "He does look adorable! Alright, chat, let's give it up for [Your Nickname] and Oso! They're officially the best cosplayers ever!"

The stream went wild again. Donations started pouring in. Someone even offered to buy Oso's hoodie.

"Okay, okay," Droid said, holding up his hands. "Let's get back to the cards. But first," he grabbed a pack and held it out to me. "You get to open this one, [Your Nickname]. Lady luck is on your side today!"

I cautiously took the pack, feeling the eyes of thousands of viewers upon me. With a deep breath, I ripped it open, the familiar scent of cardboard filling my nostrils.

The cards were… not great. A few commons, some uncommons, and a reverse holo Farfetch'd.

Droid, however, didn't seem to mind. "Hey, a holo is a holo! And you know what? This Farfetch'd is going straight into my personal collection. As a reminder of the most awesome birthday surprise ever."

He winked at the camera, then turned back to me, his eyes sparkling with genuine joy.

Even though I was sweating in the oversized hoodie, and Oso looked like he was plotting my demise, I couldn't help but smile. I had successfully embarrassed my best friend, entertained his entire audience, and maybe, just maybe, made his day a little bit brighter. Plus, I got a holo Farfetch'd out of it. Not a bad birthday present at all. Especially when shared with a friend.

Grizzy?

[guestuser00]

Hey uh.

I’m writing this because this random guy is currently holding me at gunpoint for it. I think they’re one of your friends??? I asked who they were but they just kept screaming candy brands at me, but they said they would get this to you.

But!!! that’s not the only reason why I’m writing it!!! I just haven’t heard from any of you guys in a while. I know that connection is random and all, but it doesn’t mean I miss you any less :( So this is my letter. I miss you. I hope you’re doing good and having fun with that Rusty guy, or something.

Maybe making an abomination of an outfit? I’m joking I promise!!! I do have a couple of outfits for you, though. There’s this Valentine themed one (haha, because it’s your name but also a holiday) and then I also made a skirt out of heart shapes. You’ve honestly kind of cursed me with your whole look, especially in fashion class. In my Red Bull induced haze last night, I thought about making another wedding gown, and I’d curse your name out for it.

I’ll keep them safe for you. The clothes I mean. I don’t know if I’m finishing that gown. I’m panic talking about clothes now. Maybe I could make all of us matching jackets?? That’d be cute, right?? Tito’s is doing great by the way, but he keeps chewing the phone you have him like it’ll bring you guys back. He keeps mimicking your names too. I feel so bad I just kind of let him scurry into random peoples cars for enrichment.

I don’t know how to write letters!!! I’m sorry!! I miss you a lot I refuse to comment on the state of Red Son and Macaque and I found Tito’s eating out of the dumpster. I wish I could send you noodles. This is way too sappy for just a random letter you’re getting when you’re probably fine and having fun and stuff, but still.

Sincerely,

Cream

oh…

…i miss you too, cream :(

thank you for the letter. it cheered me up. i wish i was doing better but hopefully at least i’ll be back soon and we can all go back to normal..

i can’t wait to see all the stuff you made it sounds great :) and the wedding gown haha

love you too,

rks

(and skittles: you don’t have to break into people’s houses you scoundrel but i appreciate the thought)

[maxdreavus]

Falling Away With You | Ch. 21 (EDITED FEB. 24 2025)

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Mission: Abominable begins!!

Author’s Note: God Elise is STRUGGLING. I promise it'll pay off eventually (without too much angst)!!

Hope you enjoy uwu" x

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

Magnus was super understanding when I told him that I wanted to go home and rest for a bit. I promised I’d be back later in the day, but he told me with a sympathetic smile to take all the time I need to recuperate from my incident with his potion, noting that the mental effects may be drastic even with the physical symptoms gone.

It’s not just the potion I need recuperation from, I’d thought to myself with high hopes that he wouldn’t hear.

Deciding to take him up on the offer to just go back some other time, I spent the rest of yesterday sulking. Played a few online games with Seb, but just moped around otherwise. Wondering if that was all just an allergic reaction, or if it was my body’s way of rejecting magic… like, what if I’ve got ~the sense~ for these things, but can’t actually partake in any of it? That would suck, dude.

And then there’s the issue of that… almost lovey-dovey feeling that formed in me during the whole debacle. 

That isn’t fun either.

We’re gonna ignore that part, though!

The new day has been lazy, but much needed, after all that yesterday. Hopefully I can be a good farmer, if nothing else… but only time will tell. 

I made some crepes for the first time as breakfast, researched good kotatsus for the upcoming colder seasons — whether I commit to it or not, I can continue dreaming — and did a ton of much needed cleaning around the house. Got some playtime in with Cannoli too, once it got darker and cooler outside.

Now, the little man’s laying on my belly and purring as I stroke his soft fur. Soothing me from spiraling into any self-deprecating thoughts now that I’m not distracted by chores. I take note of how much bigger this lil’ man has gotten. He was basically skin and bone when Marnie delivered him to me like the goddamn stork, and now, he’s perfectly chubby, with fur thicker than ever before. It’s becoming apparent that he might be a siberian, rather than a short-haired something-or-other.

I pick him up so that I can sit with my back against the headboard, holding him out in front of me once I’m settled. He softly meows, probably wanting me to put him back down, but instead I hold him to my chest like a baby and nuzzle my face onto the top of his head. His immediate purring soothes my soul. I guess I’m a pretty good cat mom, too. 

I still have plenty of time — several hours, actually — to kill before I want to go to bed, but nothing feels appealing. I’ve played through all my games and don’t want to spend money on anything new. I don’t want to go back to Magnus yet, because… yeah. I’m too lazy to make dinner, but don’t feel like ordering in either. And, it’s a Friday, so Seb and Sam have had band practice and whatnot with Abby all day. Don’t know if I wanna impede on their ritual hangouts.

It’s times like this where I really wish I had more confidence and more friends.

My phone vibrates, and in my desperation to not disturb Cannoli again, I try to grab at it without moving much. Unfortunately, I just wind up kicking it further away and onto the ground. Fuck. 

Great to know that even if Magnus’ potion works, my clumsiness decided to stick around.

I apologetically kiss the fuzzy head beneath mine before putting him aside, standing up and retrieving the device. I have a text notification from a number I don’t recognize. 

Preparing for it to be spam, I unlock the screen, and am quite frankly baffled with my findings.

  xxx-xxx-xxxx > heyyy. stole ur number from sebby’s phone

> it’s abby

  Why is she texting me? Why was she going through his phone? 

Did… did she see that almost-nude he took of me that one morning?

I shrug it off and quickly add her to my contacts, then sit at the edge of the bed before answering. 

  < hey! what’s up

  Abby > him and sam told me ur planning to check out that weird ass tower

> i want in

  Ohhh, Abigail. Just as peachy as ever. The stresses of the past two days aren’t allowing me to cope well with her intrusion... makin’ me feel crabby. Makin’ it real hard to want to be friends with her. 

I sigh, silently urging myself to smile through the pain. It’ll pay off! If we can be friends, everyone will benefit, right? 

Right?

  < fine by me

< i’ll keep ya posted :)

  Abby > no you won’t

> we’re going tonight :) 

  …What?

  Abby > i’ll meet you outside ur place at 12

  WHAT?

  < do i get any say in this?

  Abby > c ya laterrr ;)

  “Oh , come the fuck ON, bro!” 

Cannoli subtly activates beside me and I put an apologetic hand on his back, eyes still trained on Abby’s texts.

I peer up a few inches for the time. Just turned 8. That gives me 4 hours to contact Magnus somehow (I really need this dude’s fucking number, if he even has a phone), figure out some sort of plan that’ll benefit us both, and get back home…

Ugh. I’m gonna have to go all the way there, aren’t I?

I’ve gotta leave, like, now.

I’m in the same outfit I wore out yesterday, but with one less bra and some cozy gray shorts instead of a skirt. I don’t have time to put on a bra. I toss my white sneakers over the black crew socks I’d been wearing, grab my keys, and make a dash for Magnus’ tower. I use my left forearm and hand to flatten my chest, keeping the ladies from flopping around while my right arm pumps, phone and keys clutched in its hand.

The longer I run, the more I realize that I’m not tired. Like, at all. My lungs are fine, my heart rate seems as low as it usually rests, and I’m not breaking a sweat despite the humid summer air clinging to my skin. I wonder if this is what Magnus meant when he said the potion would lower my fatigue, like, permanently.

I also have the jarring realization that these shorts are short and they’re riding up my ass and coochie and Yoba I’m gonna look like a fucking mess showing up to his house like this. I shake my head and right wrist briefly to stop myself from getting too distracted. Gotta focus on keeping my pace. 

Once the tower is within viewing distance, I check my phone for the time. About 15 minutes have passed – Magnus and I will have a few hours to get something done. I pick up the pace, only now starting to feel any shortness in my breath or dampness on my forehead. As I near the bottom of the cliff his tower’s perched on, I call out the wizard’s name, hoping he’ll hear me or feel my presence or something.

Thankfully, it works like a charm – just a few seconds after his title escapes my mouth, his response echoes within me. 

*Elise? What’s wrong?* He sounds worried – must’ve sensed my urgency. I sigh out in relief that he was able to answer so quickly. *Is everything alright?*

Making my way up the steps, I shout, “Well, Abby decided she wants to come here tonight and didn’t leave room for debate.”  

*Fuck,* he groans, his low and tumble voice sending a jolt through me. 

My breath hitches because o-oh my god that was the first time I’ve heard him say The Fuck Word and it sounded so—

I feel the hairs raise on my arms and my heart rate and temperature only now pick up.

No, Elise! Stop it! Bad dog! 

Seriously, what is my fucking problem lately?! Like, are you kidding?!

I stop proceeding forward once I make it to the top of the stairs, breathe deeply, and blink a few times in a desperate attempt to keep my mind empty and unable to be perceived. 

Noticing how my hair threatens to stick to my neck and face, I tip my upper half down to pull my tresses up into a ponytail. God, my shorts were already riding up before, but the bent over motion I just did is shoving them further into my cracks. Luckily, I’m able to get them into a more appropriate position by the time Magnus opens the door. 

He asks aloud, “When will she be arriving?” as I give myself a once-over to make sure I’m not terribly disheveled. 

“She wants to meet me at my house at midnight, and work from there.” 

As I roll my sleeves to my elbows, I look up to meet his eyes, blue with concern. He sighs and runs his hands through his hair, his other on his hip. He scans my face, and then as his eyes lower to my body, his eyelids flutter the slightest bit, his expression almost taken aback — yearning, even — before he meets my eyes again. His own seem torn between red and maroon.

Sooo tonight’s just gonna keep being really fucking weird, huh? 

“Well,” he looks down at his feet for a moment, trailing off. He seems to be in thought, but I could swear I just saw a bright flash of crimson in his irises before they turned maroon again. “I must disguise anywhere that will be accessible, as well as bar off the basement.” 

Magnus meets my gaze again, looking more confident this time around. “I can perform an enchantment to rearrange the appearance of my home, but it will require plenty of energy. It would be too risky to try the same spell downstairs, due to its inventory, though. Would you be willing to complete a small task while I work?”

I nod, “Yeah, of course.” I walk forward, so that I’m not, like, yelling at him from the top of the stairs anymore. 

He lets me inside as he explains the first priority for the night. Magnus leads me downstairs, and describes that he has a statue down here – he calls it the Shrine of Illusions – which he can use to change his appearance at the cost of a drop of blood and some money. He has to do this, for his own sake – with how much different he looks than your average villager around here, he’d feel too self-conscious drawing any more attention than necessary. We want him to seem like some guy that just so happens to like living in seclusion, after all, so it kinda works.

While he’s talking, I gaze around yearningly at the bookshelves surrounding either side of the hallway. It’s been so long since I’ve read anything other than, like, fanfiction. Noticing my wandering eyes, the wizard promises to allow me back here in the future, claiming a lot of these will help with my potential apprenticeship.

The room he escorts me to has some more books and a lounging area to the left, and the shrine to the right, with a smaller version of the spell circle he has upstairs in front of it. I assume he needs to stand there or some shit for the shrine to do its thing.

After a warning that it’ll take him a bit to finish his transformation, I get cozy with a book on the opposite end of the room. The one I picked out at random – The Wizard’s Compendium: Oaths of the Corrupted – is an allegedly true story about the people who used to live in a desert in Galdora, now called the Crimson Badlands. It became dangerous and barren over time due to a rising presence of black magic amongst its inhabitants. 

I want to focus on the book so badly. I’m genuinely interested in learning, especially based on what the summary has to say about it… but once I glimpse up to check on Magnus, I find it hard to revert my attention.

As he works, his skin glows brightly, like those fancy berries he’s cultivating outside. He sits cross legged, floating above the also glowing ring painted on the floor, with his hands splayed out in front of him as some funky lil’ stars twirl around them. A slight breeze blows his hair out of his face, and his expression resembles that of someone who’s sleeping: eyes closed, mouth relaxed, only deep breaths escaping him. 

He’s… beautiful.

Fuck. 

No.

Stop. 

Seriously, stop it.

Wincing at my own train of thought, I sink lower onto the scarlet cushion of the sofa, gnaw my lip so hard I draw a little blood, ow, and attempt to delve back into the book. Just when I’m finally getting lost in its contents, Magnus approaches.

“Alright, how do I look?”

Taking note of what page I’m on for future reference, I shut the book and all but melt at the figure before me.

Magnus’ usual grey skin is now a rich, dark amber. His hair is black with some grey speckled throughout, and his eyes are a deep and piercing shade of liquid gold, with some light wrinkles adorning the corners and bags. His ears are no longer pointed, but all else remains the same – he’s still crazy tall, still has the same features, and still has that stupid little beauty mark under his one eye. His clothes aren’t different either — I supposed it wasn’t necessary, since he doesn’t wear all that fancy stuff you see wizards wearing in media —  but his piercings are gone.

Unfortunately, he looks stunning.  

So much so that I don’t even realize until it’s too late how I just fucking blurted that opinion out to him oh my fucking god. It’s only when his eyes widen and a deep crimson paints his cheeks that I realize my mistake. My features mirror his in an instant.

“O-oh my god, I mean…” I stammer for a sec as I look down at the closed book in my lap, trying to figure out the best way to abort from this situation. “I…” There is no escape. “I didn’t mean to just…” I am a dumbass. “Sorry…” I mumble in defeat with half of an annoyed laugh, hiding my face in my hands.

I only look back up when I feel his hand comfortingly flatten against my scalp, prompting a squeak out of me. He’s smirking, and has a mischievous glint in his eye.

That look isn’t something I see often... only from, like, Seb. 

My boyfriend.

Fuck me. 

“I appreciate the praise, Elise.” His voice sounds more… silky than usual? Am I just imagining things? “Truly.” 

He removes the hand from my head and gestures for me to give him my own, so he can help me from my seat. I quietly and meekly thank him as I return the book back to its spot on the shelf. Then, Magnus explains our next steps:

I’m gonna be performing a low-level spell – one that he thinks I should be able to manage, despite my atrocious experience with magic yesterday – in order to enforce that nobody’ll be able to enter the basement until Abby’s gone. He doesn’t want me near him as he enchants the main areas, because one wrong move can leave the tower in disarray. He reminds me that we don’t want Abby to know magic is, like, an actuality yet. Any indication of what he does can turn this night into a whole thing. So, when I’m done enchanting the door, I’m to wait at the bottom of the stairs that lead down here until further notice.

I patiently linger by the top of the steps, admiring Magnus’ plants until he returns with a tome. He opens to the page I’ll need, and points to a specific section; he then mutters something barely legible, and a lavender highlighter effect spreads across the lines I’m supposed to read. 

“Remember, Elise,” he sternly orders with a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t read anything else in this book out loud, even as a whisper.” I nod, and he reinforces the point, his unfamiliarly dazzling eyes boring into mine. “The effects of any other spell in this book summoned by an untrained mage could legitimately become catastrophic.”

“Got it,” I confirm with another nod. I let out a shaky breath as I look away from his face. “No pressure.”

His hand still on my shoulder, he gives it a squeeze. “Hey,” he calls for my attention. “I am assigning this to you so that you can practice. It’s quite elementary, but being that you’ve never incanted a spell before, it is truly not an issue if you find yourself unable.” Magnus offers a reassuring smile, seemingly melting my worries away. “I believe you can do this. And if your efforts fail, it’s nothing that I can’t fix once I’m done with my own duties upstairs. Alright?” 

I nod again. Go off, bobblehead. I grin up at his kind features and thank him for the support, adding, “I’ll do my best.”

As Magnus climbs the stairs, he assures me he’ll need no more than 20 minutes, but reminds me that I absolutely cannot interrupt. 

When he’s gone, I sigh, and look down at the open book in my arms. I sit on the steps in front of the locked door, reading it over in my head a few times.

When I’m nervy, I tend to fumble my words often. But when it comes to reading things out loud, anxious or not, I’m a fucking disaster. I need to rehearse this a few times if I want to do it correctly… then again, I don’t know if I can do the spell, nor do I know how much mana I have if that’s even something I do have, so I’m unsure of how many chances I’ll have to get this right.

A few minutes pass before I hear things moving around upstairs. I’m assuming that means Magnus is already deep in his work.

Now’s probably a good time to try this.

I stand up, taking a few deep breaths and hopping in place a little to shake out my worries. I then reach out in front of me until my palm is flat on the wooden door, look down at the grimoire, and begin. 

My incantation is slow, and I’m careful to enunciate the words on the page. A few syllables in, something begins to tickle the inside of my stomach – it’s hard to ignore, but I do my best to push it aside. Before I know it, that feeling spreads, and suddenly it’s like I can distinctly feel each and every vein pulsing within me. With only a few words left, the hand on the door begins to shimmer similarly to how Magnus did downstairs during his makeover.

And then…

There’s no fancy sparks, or any visible force coating the door, or anything. All that fancy shit… just kinda stopped once my words faded. 

…Maaybe that’s just for movies and advanced wizards like Magnus? 

I should probably just test it myself.

I take a deep breath, wrap my fingers around the handle, and swing the door open with ease god fucking damnit.

I wish I knew what had gone wrong, but I’ve obviously got no idea, and it’s not like I have Magnus here supervising or providing guidance. 

I guess I’ll just have to keep going.

[lampmanliveblogs]

And here we go… time for two old friends to catch up.

Seeing Luz crying, tearing her hair out, begging for it to not be true what he says is heartbreaking. Because she helped him. She taught Philip the light glyph and helped him retrieve the mirror. And for all the evil she knew Philip committed, she could at least rest easy knowing that he was long dead, gone and forgotten, unable to hurt anyone else. But Philip is still alive and he has killed hundreds, if not thousands or even more so… and in some tiny way, she helped him on the way.

It’s of curse not her fault, any of this. But I have the feeling that reassurance is not going to make her feel better.

Gosh darn it to the heck Hooty, this is no time to be funny!

As was pointed out to me, back when the Traitorous Trio was creating the mindscape potion, the purple liquid Darius added to it was some of his abomination goop. It was the power source that provided the magical energy to actually transport them into the Emperor’s mind.

Eda however, who doesn’t have any magic of her own can’t power it like that. And I guess the Traitorous Trio just figured she had some way to power it on her own, because they left.

King suggests using the last of the Titan’s Blood. Seeing as it’s supposed to be the most potent source of magic on the Isles, it should work. Hopefully, it’ll even pull Hunter free from whatever sulcus* Belos dumped him in.

Of course, as Eda points out, that’s the last Titan’s Blood they have and without it, they can’t make another portal to the Human Realm. On the other hand, being trapped in the Demon Realm is leagues better than being dead, or worse, trapped in Belos’ twisted mind.

On the plus side, Belos did fix the old portal and got the key with some Titan’s Blood left in it, so the way back to the Human Realm isn’t cut off forever. Eda wouldn’t know that, but Luz does now.

(*if I had a penny for every neuroanatomy joke I made in this liveblog, I would have two pennies. which is not a whole lot, but it is kinda weird it happened twice considering I know nothing about neuroanatomy. Call this liveblog an Ode to the Brain) 

We get a slightly better look at these two paintings here.

The one on the left looks like someone lying on the ground, defeated… or possibly dead. There is fire in the background, indicating maybe a magic fight or battle. It also looks like Philip’s knife lying next to the figure and… I think it might be a reflection of eyes in the blade of the knife. The aftermath of Philip taking his brother’s life.

The painting on the right looks like Philip blasting someone doing their best cosplay of Herr Gårman. It’s interesting though because it looks like Philip made a magic circle like the ones witches make. 

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 16

Chapter 1     Chapter 15

Marinette blinked as the room around her slowly came into focus.  She tried to bring her hand up to rub her head to help alleviate her pulsing headache but her hands weren’t responding.  It felt like there was a weight on them.  Or like they were being held down, bound.  Marinette’s eyes flew open and her heart started pounding as she searched the room for the akuma.  She looked at her hands and silently cursed to herself.  Not only were her arms bound to the arms of a wooden chair, she saw her own naked hands instead of her distinct red suit.  

She groaned and looked around for any clues to where she was being held and what the akuma might be.  If she could figure out their powers, she might be able to figure out how to get out of this.  She stopped when she saw a man in a green suit making his way toward her.  She blinked a few more times taking in his suit and hat.  “Is that… are those question marks?  Are you a question akuma?” she muttered out in French.

The man tilted his head at her.  “You’ll find English is necessary if you want to get out of this one alive, young Wayne.”

Marinette stared at the man a few more seconds, letting his words settle in her head as things started to click in her mind.  She wasn’t in Paris.  This wasn’t an akuma, because there weren’t akumas anymore. She and Adrien had defeated his father. She was in Gotham.  She had been on her way home after a disastrous dinner at the Wayne’s. This was a Gotham villain, not a Parisian one.  This was the Riddler.

Marinette breathed out a sigh of relief before her face scrunched in frustration.  “Are you kidding me?  Are you kidding me right now?  You had to do this right now?”

“Oh, I never kid about riddles.  Now, is not the time to panic, Little Lady,” he taunted.

“Oh, you have no fucking clue.  Now is most definitely NOT the time, but you made it the time,” she hissed at him.  “Do you have ANY idea how bad my week is going?  My night?  Do you? Do you have any idea of the trauma and nightmares I’m going to have to deal with already?  And that was before you forced me to witness your suit in person. And can you comprehend the mental and emotional cataclysm I’m already going to have to endure?  And you’re pulling this shit?  Now?”

“I’m just going to ask a few questions and then it’ll all be over and then you can have your little mental breakdown,” he jeered condescendingly.

She narrowed her eyes at him and tried to lunge at him, but her chest was tied to the chair, holding her back, and she’d never hated rope more than she did in that moment.  She growled and glared at him.  “Oh thank you for the permission.  And for the record, it won’t be little.  It’s going to be a monufuckingmental breakdown.  Thank you very much.  Granted it isn’t everything on Earth is destroyed but me and one other person, who caused it in the first place, level of bad.  But I think I’m justified in needing to take a fucking second to think and process. A second I’m not going to fucking get now am I?  Because of you.”  She turned her head to the side in frustration but her eyes got caught on a small red light.  Her mouth dropped open.  “Are you recording this?” she yelled at him.  That complicated things considerably.  Now she needed to watch her words.  Now she needed to make sure she didn’t expose anything.  Well that just sucked even more.

“Well, it wouldn’t be much of a game show without an audience, now would it,” he purred.

She scowled at him.  “By all means, record this to watch later.  Most people aren’t looking to get bitch slapped as hard as you’re going to get so publicly, but to each their own, I guess.  But, consent is a thing and next time, keep me out of it.”

She strained against the ropes holding her hands to the chair arms.  She glowered at him when they proved too tight for her to move her wrists.  “Also, it’s already not much of a game show.  If you have to knock out people and tie them down just to get them to play, either your show sucks or your host does.  Or in this case, both.”

“Now, now,” he snarled, his smile considerably more strained than it had been before.  “We’re just testing the newest Wayne to see how you’re going to fit in.”

“I could have told you that without all this,” she glowered.  “But you wanted to be a big man and ask a question.  So ask your little question.  Be a big man putting a bound, petite, non-native English speaking woman, in her place.  Although if that’s what it takes to make you feel like a man, that’s one of the most pathetic things I’ve ever heard.”

Riddler seethed at her, attempting to keep his face neutral, but failing spectacularly.  One of the Waynes should be afraid of him.  He had been hoping the new one would finally give him a Wayne that cowered in fear.  Instead, he got yet another feral child.  He gripped his question mark staff tightly, fighting the urge to hit her with it.  It was too early to start.  She’d get her punishment soon enough.  He looked up with a grin.  Very soon.

He looked back at her with a sadistic smirk. “Fine.  I’d hate to keep a lady waiting.  Perhaps first I should start with the stakes.”  He moved closer to smile in her face.  “Think well on your answer young Wayne, because for every question you get wrong,” he pointed up with his staff, “a knife falls.”

Marinette let out a deep, annoyed sigh and looked up to see a series of knives tied to the ceiling right above her seat.  She sighed and gave him a flat look. “Really?  That’s the best you could do?  You realize what I’ve been faced with before, right? Or did you not do your research?”  She narrowed her eyes at him.  “You look like a man who never does his research.”

Riddler sidled up to her in a step, his face a few centimeters from her own.  “We can start by testing out the knives if you’d prefer.”

Marinette leaned her head back.  Even if she couldn’t talk him out of making one drop, it wasn’t going to get her.  They would miraculously get diverted just enough to miss her.  Luck could be a bitch when it was against you and he’d left too much up to chance.  “Already changing the rules of the game?  What were you saying about a good game show?  Guess you really don’t care.”

“Fine!” Riddler screamed.  He walked away a few steps and turned back to her with a malicious glint in his eyes.  “Let’s start slow, shall we?  Starting in 1881, this hall brightened Paris’ nights while darkening its satire.  What is the name of this baby of Salis?”

Marinette stared at him blankly for a few seconds. Her face went slack.

Riddler leered down at her, his face breaking into a creepy grin at her apparent inability to answer his question.  “Oh, how sad.”  He gave her a mock pout.  “Looks like the new Wayne isn’t so smart after all.  What do they see in you anyway?  Can’t even answer a simple, easy question.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”  Marinette finally burst out.

Riddler frowned at her.  Instead of the fear he expected, her voice was incredulous and angry. “That’s the question, if you can’t answer…”

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?  That’s not a… You’re the Riddler.  That’s not a riddle!  That’s a… are you okay?  Like, seriously.  Are you okay?  Because I think… You know what?”  She took a deep steadying breath.  She opened her eyes to give him a serious look, completely devoid of fear, leaning more towards concerned.  

“I think you need a break.  I think you need to take a bit of time to reassess, refocus, and recenter yourself.  Then you can come back and be the Riddler I know you can be.  Because this,” she tried to motion toward him, “this is not it. That is... that isn't a riddle!  That's trivia!  You inaccurately named, evil Alex Trebek!  This would be a perfect opportunity to say I’m in Jeopardy, clueless asshole. So disappointed right now.”  She shook her head in disappointment, refusing to even look at him.

Riddler seethed at her, his face turning red with anger.  “Look either answer the question or…”

“THAT’S EXACTLY THE PROBLEM!” she screamed at him. “It’s a question, not a riddle.  And you missed a golden opportunity to ask a follow up question and saying it’s Double Jeopardy.  You missed the obvious pun!  This is why I say you need to take a break.  This isn’t you.  You’re better than this, I know you are.  I’m just… I’m worried about your mental health.”  She gave him a concerned look.

“If you can’t answer…” he snapped at her.  He gripped and regripped his question staff menacingly, leaning toward her with a snarl.

Marinette rolled her eyes at the attempt at intimidation. “Of course I can answer.  I’m from Paris and you’re asking about Le Chat Noir? Of course I know the answer.  Let me guess, your next question is about a ladybug,” she chirped, widening her eyes with false excitement.

Her face dropped the false sweetness and turned back into an aggravated frown.  “That’s not the fucking point.  My point is you interrupted my fucking abomination of a night for this bullshit and you’re not even on top of your game.  So I not only get shoved into the spotlight, against my will, by people violating my and my parents’ privacy, forcing Mon… my father to ramp up plans for my introduction.  Making sure my family and I knew we weren’t safe and exposing me to this bullshit along with the other attempts on me since it happened.”

Her frown turned into a disgusted sneer.  “And I was actually afraid for a moment because I thought you were an akuma, but you’re really just an underprepared asshole. It’s insulting frankly.”

Riddler swung his question mark staff at her catching her across her cheek.  He grinned at the blood trickling down her cheek.  Marinette glared up at him but refused to let a grunt of pain pass her lips. “Next question, hopefully this one is more to your liking.”  His eyes took on a malevolent glint.

Marinette’s eyes flicked behind him.  He smirked at her inability to make eye contact any longer. “No,” she interrupted, a smirk forming on her own lips.  “It’s my turn.  I have one for you.  It’s actually in the form of a riddle, if you think you can handle that.”  The Riddler growled at her and moved closer to tower over her threateningly.  “What lights up the day with black against yellow yet lights up the night with yellow against black.  It brings hope to those who see it yet marks your demise.  What is it?”

Riddler narrowed his eyes at her and backed away to get some space while he thought.  He looked down for a second, searching the ground as though it might hold the answer for him.  He suddenly looked up, his eyes bright with realization.  “A signal!” he exclaimed, jumping with excitement.  His face suddenly fell realizing the words that passed his lips.  

He spun around just in time for Signal to punch him in the jaw.  Riddler stumbled back falling backward on his ass.  Signal stalked toward him, eskrima sticks out and ready.  He kept his eyes on Riddler but raised his voice so Marinette could hear him.  “You alright, Ma’am?”

“I’m fine.  Just pissed,” she grunted.  She focused on her bindings, trying to figure out a way to loosen them enough to get out.

Signal smirked and gave a short nod.  “Preying on young women again?  Not a good look for you.”

“Penguin and Scarecrow both tried and couldn’t get to her.  I did,” he said defiantly, his chest puffing out even as he was slumped on the floor. “Penguin got to the museum too early. Scarecrow got to the hotel too late. But me?  I plan better.”

“And got a verbal bitch slap the likes of which Gotham has never seen for your trouble.”  Signal shook his head in mock sympathy and regripped his sticks. “Publicly.”

Riddler sneered at Signal.  “It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t,” Marinette called from her seat.  She pointed at him threateningly with her now miraculously freed right hand.  “Next time I’ll do it physically too.”

Signal grinned proudly and snorted at her comment. Riddler growled before looking back up at Signal with an angry scowl.  “Looks like this show has come to an end.  But we’ll be back after a short break.”  He hit his staff hard on the ground and a gas started emitting from it, obscuring Signal’s view.  Signal backed away and rushed over to Marinette, uncertain if the gas was dangerous.

He pulled out a knife and quickly sliced through the remaining ropes and helped her get free.  “Can you walk?”

Marinette started sprinting toward the exit.  “I can do better than that,” she called over her shoulder.  “You just going to stand there and let the gas get you?”  Signal smirked and followed her out.

She grunted as her shoulder rammed into the doorframe when she miscalculated the distance.  She silently cursed how long it was taking her brain to recover from having been knocked out.  Now out of the room she stopped running and rubbed her head as if willing it to kick back into gear.

“You sure you’re okay?” Signal asked catching up to her.

Marinette couldn’t see his eyes under his mask but the bottom half of his face seemed to be contorted in concern.  She grumbled noncommittally in response and rubbed her shoulder.  She looked around them quickly.  “You sure this is a safe way out?  He has to have had help.  I don’t see him doing his own dirty work.”

Signal nodded.  “He did have help.  But, so do I.”  He nodded behind him.

Marinette craned her neck around him to look behind him. She cringed as she saw Red Hood kneeing someone in the face.  The goon fell limply to the ground, unconscious before he hit.  Red Hood looked up and ran over to them as soon as he spotted her.  “Pi… uh… pretty impressive mouth,” he stuttered.  He looked over her closely as he could without touching her.  His eyes zeroed in on her cheek.

Marinette stared at him for a few seconds missing the incredulous look Signal tried to give him.  “Um… thanks… I think.”  She blinked a few more times before frowning.  “Yeah, can we not talk about my mouth, please?”

Red Hood choked on nothing and shook his head, leaning away, as if trying to get away from the idea.  “I meant your att…” he shook his head again and looked back at her. “Not a problem.  Let’s never talk about it again.  Are you okay?  Did he hurt you anywhere else?”  His eyes scanned her again and stopped at her wrists.

Marinette rubbed her wrists self-consciously. “No…” she started.  “I mean!  No he didn’t hurt me anywhere else.  But I am okay,” she rushed out when she saw him tense up at her words.

“Where is he?” Red Hood growled, still staring at her wrists.

“Got away,” Signal answered.

Red hood rounded on him, his entire body tensed for a fight.  “What do you mean he got away?”

Marinette stepped between them and pushed Red Hood back gently.  “He released some kind of gas.  He got me out of there before we found out what it did.  Seems like a good move considering how he got me in the first place.”

Red Hood looked down at her for a second before looking up to Signal with a nod.  He remembered seeing the gas dissipating when they finally caught up to where she was taken.  It had looked like there was enough to knock out an entire city block.  Definitely overkill, but spoke to Riddler’s desperation to be the first to kidnap her.  “Idea which direction he went?”

Signal sighed a heavy sigh.  “I didn’t see which way he went but it had to be out the west side of the room, but that’s all I got.”

Red Hood nodded and touched his com.  “You got that?”  He paused for a moment listening to whatever was being said over his com.  “Yes, she’s fine.  A few rope burns and a cut on her cheek, but seems okay other than that.”

Signal nodded and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Do you have family we can call?”

Marinette shook her head absentmindedly, the strain of the night starting to hit.  “No, I can call my brother.  He’s probably terrified about me.”

Red Hood seemed to freeze.  “Just… the one brother?  You… aren’t you one of the Waynes?”

Marinette’s eyes widened and her face paled.  She plastered a smile on her face. “Right.  Yes.  Of course. I… I meant my one brother was with me at the time.  Yes. Yeah.  The Waynes are my family.  I’m a… I’m… Yeah, I’m a… Wayne,” she barely managed to get the word out of her mouth.  It felt wrong and foreign on her tongue.  She smiled wider at them.  “But you don’t… you don’t have to bother them.  They’re all busy.”

“Yeah, looking for you,” Red Hood answered back sharply.  “They’re the ones that called us.  They’re terrified right now.”

“I think they’d want to know,” Signal urged gently, his voice heartfelt and slightly pained.

She let out a bitter scoff before she could stop herself.  She squeezed her eyes shut and mentally berated her still drugged mind for letting that slip out.  “I meant,” she started loudly, “I’ll inform someone.  They’d want to… hear it from me,” she finished quietly.

Red Hood took a breath and moved closer to her, gently resting his hands on her shoulders.  “I promise you, they’re worried about you and they would want to know. They’d want to make sure you’re okay. They’d want to make sure you feel safe. They would want to protect you. In fact, I’d expect to see a lot more of them over the next few days.”

Marinette opened her mouth to answer but got interrupted by the police breaking into the room.  Marinette pursed her lips and seemed to let a calm come over her.  Red Hood looked harder at her change as the police led her off to take her statement.  No, it wasn’t calm.  It was a numbness, an absence of any feelings.  His face contorted into a scowl.  Exactly what Adrien had described.  “You get that,” Red Hood snapped into his com.  He waited a few seconds before shaking his head.  

“That’s a fool’s bet,” Signal scoffed.  “Of course she’s not going to.  She might send a text.  And even then I bet it won’t be much.”

Red Hood listened for a few more seconds before he shook his head again.  “I���m not taking that bet either.”  He watched as Adrien just stopped himself from tackling Marinette in his excitement to see her again.  After what looked like a worried conversation, he saw Adrien pull her into a tight hug and Marinette melt into it.  “We need to fix this and quick before B does anything else to completely destroy any chance we have,” Red Hood snarled.  He turned and started grappling away.  “I’m going rogue hunting.”

Chapter 17

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[musetta3]

happy dadwc m'dear! how does "one falling asleep with their head in the other’s lap" sound for seb/hawke?

Happy Friday, Rosella! I give you, for @dadrunkwriting , 'A Day at the Beach.'

Pairing: Seb/Hawke

Rated: G, fluff

Word Count: 1801

0o0o

Sebastian sat at Hawke’s dining room table with the rest of his friends as they came up with a plan. In three day’s time, it would be his lady’s birthday, and Sebastian insisted on throwing Hawke a party she’d never forget. 

If only they could agree on what exactly that entailed…

“I dinnae want her in the mansion,” Sebastian said, “she recently lost her mother; the grief is too fresh.”

“I agree,” Fenris replied. “The house holds too many memories for her.”

“Well, we can have it at my place,” Varric offered. “Easy enough.”

Anders shook his head. “Alcohol isn’t good for wound recovery; and she shouldn’t be walking too much.”

Varric huffed. “Shit, Blondie, what are we supposed to do? Drive her in a carriage down all the stairs to Lowtown? She’ll have to walk.” 

“As her physician and best friend—”

“‘Best?’ I was her friend, first—”

Sebastian sighed. Varric and Anders had been at odds for the past fifteen minutes over this; their quarrels were making his head ache…

“A palanquin,” Sebastian countered, cutting through the argument. “We can carry her down the stairs.” The two stopped mid sentence.

“And where would we find one of those, Choir Boy? We’re not in Starkhaven,” Varric asked, frustration creeping into his tone. 

Sebastian’s blue eyes went wide. Oh. He…hadn’t thought that far ahead, actually. “I—”

“We can make one,” Fenris interrupted. “It’s not hard, just lash a chair to two poles. They used to do that all the time in Seheron for merchants and such. I’ll help; I’ve seen it done.” Sebastian smiled, nodding in gratitude. 

“…Can we take her to the sea?” Merrill asked hopefully. “The weather’s been lovely, and it wouldn’t be too far, just out the city gate. We can make a day of it, camp overnight.”

It was an excellent idea, one even picky Varric and Anders approved of. Planning went quickly after that suggestion: Sebastian and Fenris would make the palanquin, while Merrill and Isabela were in charge of entertainment. Aveline and Varric would arrange tents, while Anders insisted upon choosing the menu—a detail that made Sebastian inwardly cringe, considering the man’s infamous cooking skills. He nudged Fenris’s elbow as the others chattered excitedly over gift ideas. 

“Fenris,” he whispered. “Fenris, he cannae cook!”

“I know,” Fenris said out of the corner of his mouth. “But Hawke’s still healing; eating the wrong thing could upset her humors and delay recovery.”

Sebastian huffed into his glass, “eating his food will upset far more than just her bodily humors; it’ll give her fecking food poisoning…”

Fenris nearly choked on his wine while suppressing a laugh, “have the Abomination write down the menu; Orana will make it, knowing her.” 

A throat cleared at the door; Isabela stood at the threshold, holding a barely touched food tray. 

Sebastian sighed, “is she still too distraught?”

“Poor thing cried herself to sleep,” she replied. “What did you decide?” They filled her in over dinner; Sebastian and Fenris excused themselves early, to work on the palanquin. 

“We’ll need two long poles, rope, and a wicker chair. I found one in a storeroom,” Fenris said on the way to his house. There was an undeniably excited gleam in his eye. “That, and an umbrella.”

“An umbrella? Why? It shan’t rain on Wednesday, will it? I thought the almanac—”

“For the sun: Hawke’s two shades darker than a glass of milk; we can’t let her scorch.” He unlocked the front door and showed Sebastian in. “This way; I’d intended on using them in the courtyard garden, but I think they’ll serve nicely.”

Sebastian smiled. Fenris was finally setting down roots in Kirkwall after years of insisting otherwise, claiming the mansion as his own. Planting a small garden may have sounded inconsequential for most, but for Fenris, it was an important step towards personhood and independence; Sebastian was proud of his friend’s progress.  

They improvised as best they could: two curtain rods became their carrying poles, a serving tray acted as a footrest lashed to the chair legs. A guest room’s curtains sacrificed their fringe and tassels to decorate the oversized umbrella Fenris had found in a broom closet; the two friends stepped back, admiring their work. 

“…Will she like it, do ye think?” Sebastian asked. “It’s…” he frowned as the stubborn umbrella tipped to the left again. 

“It’s the thought that counts; we’re not carpenters. The only hammers we know how to wield are warhammers.”

Sebastian nodded. “Aye, aye, ye’ve the right of it. As long as it bears weight on Wednesday, that’s all that matters, I suppose… thank ye for yer help, Fen; I appreciate it.” 

Waiting until Wednesday was unbearable; Sebastian barely slept, he was so excited. And it seemed his beloved had no idea about the surprise: Anders and Isabela had been the very souls of discretion, keeping their plans a secret. Hawke never suspected them until Isabela herded her to the mansion door early Wednesday morning. The others were already waiting outside, armed with baskets, satchels, and everything needed for a picnic. 

“But where are we going?” Sebastian heard Marian ask in the vestibule. “And why did you give me one of your big, floppy hats?”

“For the sun, sweet thing,” Isabela replied. “Not a cloud in the sky.” 

“They’re coming!” Merrill whispered, peeking in the keyhole. 

Sebastian nodded to the others. “On me signal: Three, two, one—Happy Birthday!”

The surprise on his beloved’s face was so worth it, once Isabela and Anders supported her out into the square. Marian’s blue eyes widened, her jaw falling agape when she beheld the palanquin. 

“W-What’s all this?” She asked. “Seb?”

“Yer carriage, me lady,” he said with a gallant bow. “To the party planned in yer honor.”

“…A party? For me? But I can’t—”

“I think Mother wouldn’t want you to stay cooped up in the house on such a fine day like today, sister,” a voice said behind him. Sebastian grinned, stepping aside; one of the perks of being an Almost-Chantry-Brother was that he could use his connections to request a leave of absence for Bethany at the Gallows. They rarely refused him, on account of his closeness to the Grand Cleric. 

The joy on Marian’s face was the greatest gift ever. “Bethy,” she cried, eyes filling as she held her sister close. 

Sebastian’s throat went tight watching them together, bittersweetness settling in his chest. He’d give anything to see his brothers again, to embrace them like that, beg their forgiveness for his wild folly in his youth. But they were lost to him now, thanks to those damned Harimanns.

He blinked hard, “it’s Hawke’s day,” he reminded himself. “Dinnae let yer sorrow cloud her joy.”

The walk through Lowtown turned heads, but Sebastian didn’t mind the gawking. He proudly led the way through the streets, as  throngs of onlookers cheered their newly appointed Champion. Sebastian beamed. Marian looked so regal on her palanquin, waving and smiling like a Queen addressing her subjects. She’d make a perfect Princess: benevolent, merciful, wise. Perhaps, in another life, where he wasn’t a Brother…

“You’re in love,” Merrill sighed happily, walking abreast with him. “I can see it in your eyes; you haven’t stopped smiling all the way to Lowtown.”

Sebastian adjusted his grip on the palanquin, face going hot, “I…am pleased for Hawke, is all. She deserves some happiness after everything that’s happened.” He glanced over his shoulder, sighing in relief; Marian was too busy talking to Bethany to pay him much mind.

Merrill shook her head, “you ought to tell her how you feel; that will make her even happier.”

His eyes widened, “Sweet Andraste, Merrill, I cannae do that! It’s…” 

How could he voice what was in his heart, that he was at war with himself over his beloved? His love for Marian was forbidden: Chantry Brothers didn’t have love affairs, let alone marry or have families. But he couldn’t help dreaming of a life with her. No matter how hard Sebastian prayed, how many vigils he endured to cleanse himself of his desires, he stubbornly held onto that dream with both hands and refused to let go. He was willing to brand himself an oathbreaker and a sinner, for the sake of his beloved; that realization simultaneously surprised and frightened him.

“You still have a chance,” Merrill said after a silence. “To make your own path, I mean. You don’t have to follow the one laid out for you, if it makes you miserable.”

“But I have a duty to me parents—”

“...I think they’d rather see you happy first and foremost, rather than living with remorse. Any parent would, I think.” She gave him a smile and walked on, leaving him to ponder her words as they left the city behind.   

Merrill’s suggestion to go to the beach was a perfect one: Marian’s smile rivaled the sun in its brilliance, especially when Sebastian and Fenris set the palanquin at the water’s edge. Even if she couldn’t go swimming, she could still enjoy the water, even wade a bit—under Anders’s strict supervision, of course. It was, all in all, a glorious summer’s day of bright blue skies, laughter, and warm sea breezes, one that Sebastian wished he could catch in a bottle and keep forever.

Later on, after they had their picnic, ate their cake, and had given Marian her presents, Fenris and the others passed the lute around the campfire. Sebastian slipped away during one of Isabela’s raunchy ballads, joining Marian as she stargazed. 

“And how fares me lady? Are ye tired? I can help ye to yer tent; dinnae push yerself too hard,” he said.

She smiled, “I’m fine. Come, sit with me.” He accepted, sitting beside the palanquin with a contented sigh. A sun-drenched fatigue settled on him like a comfortable mantle; he leaned against Hawke’s leg with a smile, fingers laced with hers.  

“Look! There’s Satina,” she said, pointing to the thin crescent moon not too far from the other. “My father used to tell us stories about the night sky, you know. Apparently the moons were lovers, once.”

Sebastian looked up to her, “truly? What happened?” 

He listened as Marian recited a fairy tale from her youth, of two lovers separated by Fate and could only meet once a year, during Satinalia. Even if he couldn’t see her expression well, he could hear the wonder in her voice as she described their pining and eventually happy reunions. He would have liked to hear more of her stories, but alas: his eyes refused to stay open. The waves lapped gently on the shore, lulling him asleep as his beloved spun tales of stardust and magic, fingers gently carding through his hair. Sebastian smiled to himself, etching the day and its ending in his heart as he drifted off. 

[realm-sweet-realm]

An Unlikely Reunion

Months after their release from Ink Hell, Sammy and Joey are ready to look each other in the eyes again, and reflect on the role they’ve played in each other’s lives.

This is a story taking place at the end of the Another Chance AU created by inkdemonapologist. Thanks to Shazzbaa for looking over this for me!

---

Joey had been living in Henry’s household since he was released from the sketch dimension, and he’d learned certain things about him. Namely, that all those years where they’d felt a world apart, Henry was making fairly frequent visits into New York to visit Linda’s family. He still did now, in fact. It always made Joey feel vaguely guilty when he did, because Joey also had people to visit there. Other ex-ink creatures he was too cowardly to check up on and finally apologize to.

Well, today he was doing it. Would it be nice to see Sammy again? Joey hoped so. It was too late to cancel now that Sammy- for whatever reason- had already agreed to a date and time. He hoped that Sammy was doing okay, and that he was healing.

While Joey had been a Boris in the sketch dimension, he and Sammy had been roommates. It had been nice to have a companion- someone to play cards with, to eat with, to huddle in hiding with when the ink demon phased through their walls. But it had also been sad to see Sammy in that state.

Sammy had lost his bite and his will from all the despair Joey had put him through. Often, Joey would find him raving maniacally about the ink demon to whoever he could get to listen, preaching that they must repent to the mindless abomination to earn their freedom. Other times, Sammy would sit in silence in their safehouse for hours, hopelessly staring into space. Joey never heard him make snarky comments anymore, and when he played music, there was a sad quality to it, like he was trying to remember how to play. Joey’s greatest fear was that Sammy would still be like that now. That he’d ruined such a brilliant man forever.

Joey’s second greatest fear? That Sammy was exactly the intimidating specimen he’d been in 1929 and would look Joey up and down and see exactly how pathetic he was. Physically, Joey had emerged from the dimension with pie-cut eyes, an insatiable appetite, and those dreaded, goofy-looking Boris ears that had a life of their own and gave away his every feeling. For the most part, those could be hidden, but... socially, it was hard to pretend to be the man he once was now that he’d lost his studio and fallen so far from grace. Seeing people from his old life was a little embarassing now.

Joey met Henry in the car, and they set off. They were living in a smaller city right outside of New York, where Sammy lived now. It wasn’t a terribly long drive.

“I’m proud of you for doing this,” Henry said after they’d been driving a while. He knew that for a long time, seeing the other ink hell survivors was the last thing Joey ever wanted to do. This was a good first step.

“Don’t be silly, Henry,” Joey insisted, keeping his voice casual, “It’s just seeing an old friend! It’ll be fun.” Thankfully, Henry couldn’t look too closely at Joey’s twitching hat while he was driving.

“Sure. Well, you know the drill. Call my mother-in-law’s place when you’re done, and we’ll pick you up.”

“Alright,” Joey said, getting out of the car. Henry drove off, leaving Joey no choice. He knocked on Sammy’s door, and Sammy opened it.

Sammy gave Joey a withering glare that made his ears shiver. Hopefully he could make it through this meeting without the ears making his hat tremble or knocking it right off. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Can I come in?”

“Sure,” Sammy said, and led Joey in. Now that Joey wasn’t caught in his headlights anymore, he was able to notice that Sammy looked relatively fine. His place was decently clean, and Sammy himself didn’t seem to be unhealthy. The only obvious difference he’d retained was some black veins around his left eye.

The two sat down across from each other at Sammy’s table. “So. What do you want, Joey? Why did you want to see me?”

What was Joey expecting? A nice chat over tea? They both probably felt like the other was interrogating them. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

Sammy blinked, surprised but unimpressed. “Well, I’m doing fine. Now, if that settles your conscience-”

“Wait! Listen. It made me really upset, while we were ink creatures, to see you stripped of your bite and your passion and everything that made me like you in the first place. And in spite of everything, I’m glad that we found some comfort in each other. Remember when we found Jack for the first time and invited him over to play cards?”

Sammy didn’t smile, but he did nod a little. “We couldn’t put cards in his hands. He wouldn’t let go of his valve.”

Joey felt his ears perk up a little. “Yeah. I certainly hope he’s feeling sharper nowadays.”

“Oh, he is. I still visit him.”

“That’s wonderful!”

Sammy gave Joey a sly look. “And you wanna know something else? He just had to be the only one of us who got away without any deformities. You’ve got your eyes, I’ve got my eye, and these things have made relearning the piano a bitch and a half.” Sammy raised one of his four-fingered hands.

“You think that’s bad?” Joey replied, taking off his hat, “These will have me wearing hats for the rest of my life.” The Boris ears were standing at attention. Sammy was smiling. Joey was smiling. This was going well. Joey was reminded of the many morning meetings he and Sammy had spent together. Though, they’d usually complained about others, not themselves.

Sammy snickered at them. “At least yours can be fixed with a veterinarian and some scissors.”

Joey laughed. “Okay, maybe I don’t hate them that much...” There was a quiet moment between them. “We really did have some good times, didn’t we? If you’d known who I was, would you have still been my roommate?”

As soon as Joey said that, he could tell that he’d brought the mood down a few octaves.  Of course. Sammy probably didn’t want to think about back then. Back then, his mind was probably too muddled to do anything else. He’d needed every bit of safety and comfort he could reach, no matter where it came from.

“You don’t have to answer that. What matters is that we’re okay now.”

“I���m not okay,” Sammy said.

“What?” Joey said. He felt his ears press back and started to put his hat back on.

“I said, I’m not okay. And keep that thing off!”

Joey lowered his hat.

“When I first came out of that Godforsaken hell you put me into, I-” Sammy stopped dead, as though considering something. What? What had happened to him, Joey wondered. Had he been suicidal? House-bound from trauma? “Forget it. I’m not giving you anything to use against me.”

“I’m... I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“I suppose. But we’ve had good times, too. Remember our first kiss? The real one- the one in my office doesn’t count.” That had been the night after he’d shown him magic for the first time. For once, Sammy had been no mystery to Joey- he had evidently been in awe of him. Intrigued, but scared of delving into the taboo. And Joey had given him a little nod that said, join me. I know you want to. And Sammy had. It had also been the night where Sammy had used his first spell.

Sammy crossed his arms over himself uncomfortably. “I do remember that.”

Joey was silent for a moment. He was losing him and needed to do something about it. “It was nice meeting with someone who’s gone through the same things I have. Makes me feel a little less silly about the ears. It must have been nice for you, too. Would you like to meet up again? Talk about navigating the world as a cartoon hybrid and whatnot?”

“I don’t think we should spend time alone together. I could ask Jack or Susie to join us, but I doubt they want to see you either.” Sammy looked so blank and unreadable and Joey couldn’t help but to wonder what he was thinking of. Was he scared of falling in love with him again, unable to deny that connection they had? Or was he just afraid that Joey would drag him into pain again, just like he had in their last lifetime? In a strange way, it was good to see Sammy back to his mysterious self.

“Alright,” Joey said. “Let me use your phone. I’ll call Henry and he can pick me up.”

Sammy gave Joey a strange look before leading him to the phone, and it took Joey a moment to figure out why. He’s surprised that I’m respecting a boundary of his, he realized. He really had been less-than-great to Sammy, hadn’t he? Even beyond the supernatural traumas he’d inflicted on him.

Still, this had gone better than Joey could have hoped for, and at least he knew that Sammy was doing alright.

“One more thing, Sammy- could you give me Jack’s phone number? I think I’d like to meet with him sometime as well.”

[moonbeambucky]

I Promise (Part 1/2)

Pairing: Chris Beck x Reader Word Count: 4106 Warnings: fluff, smut, pregnancy

Summary: Before heading to Mars Chris Beck reconnects with his best friend, unaware of the outcome of their night together. With the burden of his mission will Chris make a promise he can’t keep?

A/N: My first Chris Beck fic! Rather than a really long one shot I’m splitting it into two parts. A big thank you to my love Allie @all1e23​​​ for beta reading 🍕❤️ gif source (x)

“Hey.”

The soft resonance of Chris’ voice brings tears to your eyes, ones you couldn’t help from slipping out. They fall down the curve of your cheeks past the uneasy smile you wore.

“I kept my promise,” he said. Chris flashed the top row of his bright white teeth, his mouth curving into a boyish smile that reached his eyes, the fine lines crinkling around them. He tilted his head as he looked at you through the screen, a comforting gaze that made you feel as if he was there with you. 

The quality of the video chat is near perfect making you almost forget Chris was millions of miles away. He looked the same, not that you expected him to look different. It had only been a few months since you last saw each other. 

His hair looks darker than usual but you suppose it’s the low lighting of the small room he’s in. He’s bundled up in a thick NASA sweatshirt and you can see several more layers he has on beneath the collar. Chris looks tired but that’s expected, what he’s doing right now is not a walk in the park. You know it’s the reason why it’s taken so long for him to contact you but you wish he did it sooner. 

More tears flood your eyes, burning their way out as you wished he never left at all. You can barely hear Chris over the sound of your own sobs.

“Please don’t cry,” he pleaded.

You lifted your head towards the screen and seeing the concern on his face only made you miss him more, wishing he was there to console you in person.

Your hand swept away tears from your cheek as your voice cracked saying his name. “Chris…” 

The streets are simmering with the heat of a summer that couldn’t wait to officially start. Calendars be damned, it was hot. You indulged in a cool shower when you got home from work but time didn’t allow for a languid evening of staying in your towel as you applied serums and moisturizers, lotions and creams and every other post-shower pampering you normally do. Tonight was dinner with a friend and you needed to get ready.

Chatter filled the air of the patio, a small secluded outdoor space at the back of an Italian restaurant on the Upper East Side. It had an Old World Tuscan feel, from the stucco walls that looked purposely imperfect. Green patina shutters hung beside a wrought iron lantern that glowed in the early evening. Lush greens and bright flowers sat atop the half wall that surrounded the dining area making you forget you were in the city.

Chris looked the same, not that you expected him to be different. It had only been about two years since you’ve seen each other, right before he began training for his mission and now you can’t believe it was about to happen. Never would you have expected that the little boy down the block who became your best friend would actually be going to Mars.

For most of your lives you were in the same school, starting in Mrs. Kramer’s kindergarten class where you stuck together; two kids that were nervous about making friends and finding comfort in each other. As the years went on you weren’t always in the same classes but your friendship continued to grow. Chris was picked on for having a girl as a best friend and the girls always teased that he was your ��boyfriend.” It never felt that way with Chris. He was your friend first and you never saw him as anything more. 

By the time you were in middle school Chris was already taking advanced classes in math and science and the only class you had together was art which he was famously terrible at. It was there you asked him a huge favor, whispering to him at the sink as you rinsed off your paint brushes. “Could you kiss me?” Chris turned as red as a boiling lobster, immediately sweating as if he was being roasted alive himself. It was later that day walking home from school that you clarified what you meant.

There was a boy, Justin Kaufman, who was the coolest kid in your grade. You had a crush on him like everyone else and you were shocked when he asked if you would go with him to the dance on Friday. You were worried he might try to kiss you and being inexperienced made you nervous. Justin was really popular and if you were a bad kisser then the whole school would know it. Chris was your friend, someone you trusted, someone you could practice with just to make sure you didn’t make a fool of yourself. 

You had no frame of reference for kissing back then apart from one sided smooches to pictures of movie stars that you had a crush on. But feeling Chris’ lips press back against yours was… nice. The best part about it was that things didn’t feel awkward after. Chris was still your best friend and nothing changed. 

A server hands you a menu and you thank him, scanning through it to see what you might be interested in. Chris looks up at the same time you do, wondering if you wanted an appetizer.  You nodded letting him choose, considering the limited food options he’ll have for over the next year. 

“Can you drink?”

Chris’ nose crinkled as he smiled. “In space? No. Tonight? Yes,” he chuckled softly. 

Two glasses of red wine were set on the table as you indulged in delicious food, catching up as much as you could before Chris’ mission. 

“So you’d love what happened today,” you began, leaning closer, “We filmed a restoration video and yours truly was in it.”

Chris’ eyes lit up as he gasped. “I love those! You have to send it to me. Hopefully I can see it before I go. What was it?”

“A sixteenth century European oil painting.” You went into detail and Chris loved listening to your knowledge of art history. It was no wonder that was your major, taking your studies further to work as a conservator at the Met.

Chris swallowed his food quickly to speak. “You were always good at that– art, attention to detail. Remember when we had to sculpt our own faces?” he chuckled.

There was a short burst of laughter as you remembered that day from so long ago. “Yes! Thankfully the real you doesn’t look anything like that abomination you made.” 

Chris drops his head down to hide a bashful smile that mixed in with laughter. He’s enjoying himself, catching up with you, eating. This was so good. He couldn’t help but scoop up another forkful of pasta, not expecting you to ask him a question. “So, how are you feeling?”

He paused to reflect and wiped a bit of sauce from the corner of his mouth. “I’m nervous… excited.” Taking a sip of wine, he sets the glass down carefully on the table. Chris’ face has grown more serious. “My mom’s worried.”

“Of course she is, I don’t blame her. I’m worried. Mars is… well it’s Mars! It’s not around the block.”

He chuckled. “No, it’s definitely not.” 

Chris is heading home to Connecticut tomorrow to spend the next few days with his parents. Chloe, his younger sister is coming in as well so they can all spend some time together before he has to fly down to Florida.

“Then it’s go for launch!” he said with a beaming smile, though Chris had to correct himself for the sake of accuracy. Once he’s down there the crew has to quarantine for at least ten days and go through a bunch of pre-flight checkups and procedures first. “Are you gonna watch?”

The incredulous look you gave him answered his question. “Did you really have to ask? Of course I’m going to watch the launch.” 

His eyes twinkled as he smiled back at you. “Oh and don’t worry I put you on my contact list so you can send me emails. Not sure how quickly I'll get them since CAPCOM directs it back to us. And as long as we have the right satellite coverage we can even do video calls.”

“Like Facetime?”

“In theory yeah, more like space Skype,” he laughed. “It’ll be nice to stay in touch.”

Your smile was bright in the dimness of the evening. You can’t imagine not staying in touch with Chris. The longest you had ever gone was during his Air Force training. He checked in with his parents when he first arrived and from then on it was sporadic. You were able to send him letters though and tried to write him every week though your own schooling and an apprenticeship at the Louvre had taken up a lot of time but that was how your relationship was. 

No matter where you were in life, across the world or hovering above it in the International Space Station, you always kept in touch. It’ll be harder now considering he’s going farther than ever before but you’ll make it work. 

Chris would be back by next November and his mom was already planning a big party for his return, one he’s certain you’ll be invited to. Though you haven’t seen his parents in a while you still kept in touch with them from time to time seeing as they were still friends with your own parents.

“It’s crazy to think you’re about to go to Mars.” 

Chris swipes a palm down his mouth, leaning his elbows against the table as he muses, “I know. Feels like I got the call yesterday.”

It was a night similar to this one, where Chris was in New York celebrating with you and other friends on his selection to be part of the Ares III mission. He had been working at NASA for a few years, doing biomedical research in their center in Virginia and now he was about a month out from spending two years training for his long term mission to Mars. 

He stayed at your apartment that night, continuing the celebration in your own private way. You had come a long way from learning to kiss with Chris. It wasn’t a big deal, neither was it the first time you had sex with each other. It was a special dynamic that worked for the two of you, one you don’t think you could have pulled off with anyone else. With Chris you had trust that was built up over the years. He was safe, he was your friend and this was nothing more than just sex. 

It didn’t happen too often, a couple of times here and there. You both dated a few people over the years and even though you were single at the moment you thought about the promise you made to each other as teens. “If we’re not married to other people by the time we’re thirty let’s promise we’ll marry each other.” Such a silly promise but thirty seemed so far away at the time. 

Chris couldn’t make it to celebrate for your thirtieth birthday but you did get a card from him where he joked that the wedding was off. You were in a long term relationship, one that Chris thought would lead to marriage but you ended things a year later. It wasn’t there; that natural spark that made your heart skip a beat every time they smiled brighter than the sun, or when their eyes sparkled like stars in the night every time they looked at you. 

You walked through the streets with Chris after dinner, casually strolling back towards your apartment and stretching out the inevitable goodbye that you didn’t want to say. It was so good to be with him in person again, not realizing how badly you missed it until the hours started ticking closer towards him leaving. By the time you get to your apartment Chris decided to come up stairs, wanting to spend as much of his time with you as he could. 

Chris sits comfortably on your couch, cozied up beside a large pillow. He places his wine glass down on your coffee table, needing to gesticulate with both hands as he starts getting into talking about his research. He’s been published before in numerous academic journals and now he’s going on about how excited he is for his latest topic, musculoskeletal alterations and the effects of deep space travel. 

He’s cute when he really gets into it, crinkles pulling around the corner of his eyes as his whole face lights up. You let out a shaky breath, smiling even wider yourself as you watched the passion he had for science and learning, one that matched the level you had for art and preserving their history. 

Chris apologized for rambling on, taking a sip of wine to clear the dryness from his throat. 

“So, give me the lowdown… can you jerk off in space?” 

He covered his mouth to prevent the wine he was choking on from spitting out. You couldn’t help the sly smile on your face that cracked wider the redder he became. 

“Well?”

Chris cleared his throat again. Pinching the bridge of his nose he looked down into his glass, chuckling a bit as he said, “The official stance from NASA is no comment so I’m going to stick with that.” 

“That’s not an answer!” You could barely hold a faux sneer before you broke into a smile. Teasing Chris was all in good fun, something that went both ways from the time you were young. 

You adjusted the way your legs were folded underneath you, brushing your knee against his leg. Chris lifted his arm up, a silent invitation for you to get closer and so you did, resting your head against him as his arm came around you.

Things had quieted down and you listened to the steady beat of his heart. This would be the last time you would see Chris for a long time. Your arm reached around to hold him for as long as you could.

“I’m going to miss you,” you whispered against him. 

Chris’ chest sunk as he exhaled a deep sigh. “I’m going to miss you too.” His arm squeezed a little tighter around you as he pressed his lips gently against your forehead. “Just look to the stars and I’ll be there.” 

His words brought a comforting smile to your face, one you shared with him as you tilted your head to look up at him. “Do you want to stay?”

The corner of his mouth tugs a little as Chris thinks about it. There’s nothing he really misses at his hotel more than he does you. The only reason he came to New York was to see you first before going home. 

“Yeah, I’d love to stay.”

You shifted yourself on top to straddle Chris, carding your fingers through his hair and taking in the gaze of his eyes that became pools of deep blue. You closed the distance between your lips, feeling his hands come around your back. Soft moans bubbled in your throat and soon you found yourself being carried to the bedroom. 

Clothes were discarded, lips were on skin that burned hotter than the stars. You writhe against him, thighs quivering around his head, reaching out to grip him by the hair, holding Chris in place as he coaxed out your release. His lips taste like you and he licks them again, savoring your sweetness as he crawls up your body. 

He tears open the condom, gathering your wetness on him as he slowly pushed in. A sinful moan falls from your lips as you feel the stretch of him inside you, inch by inch until he was fully seated. An experimental roll of his hips sets the pace for pleasure. 

Your hands graze up the curve of his arms, reaching his back and digging in half moon shapes into his skin with your nails as he thrusts into you.

“Ahh fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, moaning as his hips snapped forward. His name fell from your lips, a sweet sound that he couldn’t deny he loved hearing. 

He changed his angle, hitting you with deeper, longer strokes. His mouth found your nipple, sucking at your peak as his hips gained speed; groaning and squeezing his eyes tightly as he fucked you, ready to explode.

“Shit!” Chris hissed, backing off quickly. You’re confused and concerned, sitting up and turning the light on beside your bed to see what was wrong. “The condom broke,” he said, still catching his breath.

Chris got up to discard it in the bathroom as you sat on the bed, crossing an arm over your chest, waiting nervously. When Chris walked back in the room he apologized for that, the stiffness of his length giving you relief that he hadn’t finished so you continued. Using your hands on him as he let out soft moans, distractedly opening another condom that you rolled down on him. You straddled him, leaning forward to capture his lips for a sweet kiss first before you lined yourself up and sank down on him. 

Soon enough you were riding waves of bliss together, gripping Chris as you clenched around him, burning white hot behind your eyes. He’s right behind you, on the edge of pleasure, exploding inside you like a supernova.

Dropping your head onto his chest, it felt like your body was made of overcooked noodles that splayed loosely against him as you were desperate to catch your breath, coming down from the heights you soared to. Chris’ arms hold you close against him, his lips languidly peppering kisses to your sheen covered skin. 

When his heartbeat returned to a steady pace Chris went to the bathroom to once again discard the condom and you followed behind him to use it. He went to the kitchen to get something to drink, bringing back an ice cold glass of water for you. 

Back in bed you cuddled together, with goosebumps breaking out on your skin as Chris’ fingertips graze gently up and down your arm. Your eyes feel heavy but you don’t want to give in because when you wake up you know you’ll have to say goodbye and that’s not something you want to do. 

“You’ll stay in touch, right?” you murmured against him, as worry took root within your stomach. His quick and emphatic reply should have been enough but you couldn’t help yourself from needing to make sure you would still hear from him during the mission. “And call me? With the space Skype?”

“I promise,” he said, as a smile spread across his face. Chris’ hand stopped moving, settling on your arm and holding you close. 

“Promise me one more thing?” He hummed in response and you continued, “Stay safe up there.”

Chris tilted his head down and feeling him shift you looked up as he said, “I promise.”

In the moonlight his eyes sparkled like clear tropical waters. Slowly, a soft smile spread across your face as you stared at him. “I love you, Chris.” There was no romanticism behind it even after being together, just pure love for your friend. 

Chris exhaled, planting a kiss to your temple. “I love you too, Y/N.” 

Despite wanting to spend your remaining hours together awake you reluctantly fell asleep in his arms, tearfully parting in the morning. Two weeks later you watched as the space shuttle launched, with proud tears filling your eyes as Chris’ picture flashed on your screen along with the rest of the crew. Seeing that made you feel hopeful and overjoyed at the prospect of hearing from him soon.

“Chris… I’m pregnant.” It was a relief to finally tell him but you didn’t feel any better, uncertainty weighed heavy on your shoulders, crushing the space for your lungs to expand. Chris knows but now what?

He’s silent, his lips parted slightly and you don’t know if there’s a delay in the feed. Maybe you should have emailed it to him. You were going to at first and instead chose to word the importance of needing to speak to him in such a clandestine way that you were contacted by someone from NASA. Upon speaking to them they allowed your email to be dispatched and then you waited. 

Chris’ eyebrows knit together, his shoulders slumping down as he stared at your face through the screen. He didn’t have any doubts, you were always truthful with each other, but he still wondered how.

“We put on a new one, I thought…” 

“I thought we were good too,” you said, letting out a shaky breath. 

You weren’t just pregnant, you were pregnant with his child and based off of some quick calculations in his head you were nearing the end of your first trimester. “H-how are you? I mean, how are you feeling?”

“Physically or…” Nervous laughter bubbles out of your throat. 

This was hard on you, the physical symptoms weren’t fun but you could manage. What was more difficult was not telling anyone. It was early enough in your pregnancy that you could hide it from your family. They still lived in Hartford and hadn’t been down to visit yet but you couldn’t avoid them forever. Work was a different story. You had to let your boss know you would have to modify your duties as working around solvents and other chemicals would not be safe.

There was never a doubt in your mind about keeping the baby. When you were younger you imagined having children by now but it didn’t work out that way. It was something you were okay with, finding life fulfilling in different ways. Work was incredible, you were able to travel and though your relationships hadn’t worked out in the past you didn’t hold on to any resentments. Life was always complete and now things were going to be different. 

You wanted to speak to Chris first before telling your family because you needed to know your expectations. Chris had a life of his own and you didn’t want your choice of having a baby to make him feel obligated in any way. You were an adult; a smart, independent woman and could do this on your own.

“I know this isn’t something we planned but…” Chris exhaled, the corners of his mouth lifting upward, “There’s no one I’d rather do this with than you... I promise.” 

Chris’ eyes glisten with tears as his smile grows and you find yourself brushing away your own from the corner of your eyes. It was comforting to know Chris will be part of the baby’s life. Truthfully it would have been weird if he wasn’t in some capacity considering how close you were. For now you have a lot of time on how you’re going to figure things out for the future.

After the call Chris reflected in silence, staring out of the giant triangular windows of one of the Hermes’ common areas into the vastness of space. He was lost in thought, startled by his name being called by a crewmate. He turned to see Mark whose bright smile fell with concern upon seeing Chris’ face, asking if he was alright.

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Chris responded, his tone mournful in the realization he’ll be missing the birth. He accepted the congratulatory hug Mark gave him, sighing heavily as they separated. “I always thought I’d be there for that.” 

You were due in March and Chris hated the fact that he won't be there for the first nine months of his child’s life, moments and milestones he’ll never get back. He doesn’t like leaving this all on you. He knows you can do it but you shouldn’t have to. 

“I can’t pretend this isn’t hard but don’t think of it in terms of what you’re missing, look at what you’re gaining, what you have to look forward to when you come home.” Chris nodded, his smile trying to come back. “I didn’t even know you had a girlfriend,” Mark teased. 

“I don’t. Y/N, she’s…” Chris’ face lights up as he thinks about you, which does not go unnoticed by Mark. “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’s always meant so much to me and now…” 

Mark gave Chris an honest smile as he spoke plainly, “And now you’re having a baby.” 

With a proud smile that stretched from ear to ear he affirmed, “Yeah… we are.” 

PART 2

[thran-duils]

Doll Me Up (P.11, Final)

Title: Doll Me Up (Part Eleven, Final) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Tony Stark. On good days, you and Tony were a power couple. You, a perfect trophy wife with your hands in local charities to promote a wholesome image. Tony, business man but sullied with organized crime. He indulged in his illegal gambling, extortion, and political corruption. And he indulged in his escort business. Hell, that is where he had found you. You were a brat, and he loved a challenge. Words: 1,892 Warnings: Unhealthy relationships, smut, daddy kink, dom/sub, manipulation, death, violence, possessive behavior, drug use

Part Ten ||  Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

~2 weeks later…

“Come now, drink up,” Tony said, gesturing impatiently since he was needing to leave to go to a meeting bright and early, and you picked up the glass warily.

He had made you a smoothie out of hemp, cucumber, avocado, kale, ginger, grapes, and coconut milk. You had watched him adding each ingredient feeling more and more anxious. You just wanted an egg and bacon sandwich.

You grimaced as you swallowed it. You whined, “I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, I don’t either but it’s good for us, kitten,” Tony said, grabbing his own glass and taking a swig. He barely held back a face. “I’ve gotta be tip top shape for you and the baby. And you gotta be tip top shape for baby Stark.”

Scowling, you stared down at your glass, muttering, “I don’t like you calling it that.”

“I don’t like you calling it… it.”

“Well, we don’t know the sex yet, so what do you want me to say?”

“Baby Stark,” Tony quipped, taking another drink. He eyed your glass, nodding, telling you to do the same.

You took another long drink and swallowed it with difficulty. “It sounds too close to that annoying ass song.” Tony cocked his head in confusion, and you said, “I won’t subject you to it. Or myself to it. Again. Once was enough. I’m glad we are past the age – hopefully – that abomination is in vogue.”

“Well, now you’ve got me curious,” Tony said, pulling out his phone.

“Please, don’t,” you begged and then thought quick to threaten, “I won’t finish this if you do.”

Tony pointed at you and said, “That’s not fair. That’s for baby… the baby. This is for me and you can handle it.” Your jaw set and put the glass down, staring defiantly back at him. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, not breaking eye contact. “You hate it that much?”

“Yes.”

Rolling his eyes, he placed his phone back down and picked his glass back up, taking another drink. At his relent, you did the same. Tony finished his and sucked his teeth before rinsing his glass in the sink. You forced yourself to finish as well and placed the glass back down on the counter. Tony grabbed it from you and rinsed yours as well.

He leaned in and gave you a quick kiss, “I’ll listen to it at work.”

“I am telling you, you shouldn’t subject yourself to it,” you replied.

“Digging my own grave then,” Tony joked before giving you another kiss, longer this time. He tapped your nose and said, “Do your laps in the pool, princess. Don’t forget. Doctor said that would help aches and loosening your muscles.” You nodded in response and he smiled, his hand coming to rest on your abdomen for a second before he moved past you to go to the garage and leave.

<><><>

~2.5 months later… (5.5 months along)

Tony had you on your knees on the bed, your fingers spread, digging into the bed, bracing yourself. He ran his hands up your sides as he kept a steady pace. He was being gentler than usual, and you were thankful, loving the intimate contact. His touch was sensual and loving. The further you got along, the more he was relaxing on the rough sex.

The two of you ended up on your sides, Tony holding you close this chest as you came down.

He laid a kiss on your cheek, still panting softly from the exertion considering he had done most of the work.

His hand slid down to your abdomen, caressing your ever growing bump gently.

“Look at how perfect and strong you are, kitten,” he murmured. He turned your head towards him and kissed you slow and deep. “A superhero in your own right, growing life.” You smiled gently at that.

<><><>

~1.5 months later… (7 months)

“She’s been good,” Happy commented, watching Y/N inside from the back patio. She was showing now completely, round, and no hiding her pregnancy. “I can admit, I am surprised.” He looked at Mikhail and said, “Looks like you aren’t a complete idiot.”

“Took you long enough to figure out,” Mikhail responded, taking a long drink, looking at the women gathered inside the room. He smacked his lips and said under his breath to Happy, “Not stoked about being at a baby shower but at least there’s a lot of nice ass to look at.”

Inside the mansion, you took the salad from your friend, who commented, “You should eat something else.”

“We are going to have cake later,” you said waving her off.

“I meant something more nutritious than a green salad, Y/N.”

“Spinach is very healthy,” you retorted.

“There are a lot of finger foods. Tea sandwiches. Meatballs on sticks with veggies. Deviled eggs. Pinwheels?”

You sighed, chewing the bite of salad you had just taken. “A couple deviled eggs wouldn’t be bad. And some veggie sticks with ranch.”

She walked off and you scowled to yourself. Everyone was trying to constantly get you to eat ‘healthy’ for the baby and it was getting worse, the hounding about everything you needed to do. You were tired of it. The constant asking about what you had eaten and when, the reminders to drink water as if you had not been drinking water your entire life, did you exercise…

Cassandra waltzed over, sitting down next to you. You were very thankful she had decided to come and had forgiven you for the scene at her house less than a year ago. She picked a crouton off your salad, drawing a smirk out of you as she winked, before she said, “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Where did you get this dress? It is gorgeous.”

“Tiffany Rose.”

“The blush color looks beautiful on you. And I love you went dramatic with the floor length.”

“Thanks. Would you expect anything less from me?” you asked, jokingly. She shook her head, smiling. You took another bite and swallowed. “Are you looking for a dress for your shower?”

She nodded in return. She was taking a break from porn – hinting she might not go back at all – having gotten pregnant herself. And then asked, her eyebrows wiggling, “Is the blush supposed to be an indicator about the sex?”

“No. I just liked the color.”

“You really don’t know the sex yet? It’s a surprise for everyone?”

“Well, for us. I’m sure Happy and Mikhail know. God knows Tony couldn’t have kept it all to himself. Good luck breaking them though. I’ve been trying to get Happy to slip up about it for a couple weeks.”

Cassandra leaned back and said, “So, he set it all up and then the cake cutting reveal is his secret?” You nodded. “Hmm, he put a lot of work into this.”

“He did,” you confirmed, taking another bite as your other friend returned with a plate of deviled eggs and the vegetables you had agreed to. You held out the half-finished salad bowl and they took it, albeit reluctantly seeing you had not finished. You took the plate and obliged them by eating one of the eggs. “He’s excited.”

You paused and then added, “Excited but he’s ready for rough sex again.”

“I’m sure you are too,” Cassandra joked, nudging you playfully.

“Yeah. I’m tired of just… growing.” You took a bite off one of the carrot sticks. “It’s never ending. And I know I’ve got probably another month and a half of it at least.”

“It’ll all be worth it,” Cassandra reassured you, stealing a celery stick off your plate now and biting into it.

You finished off your carrot, swallowed, and muttered, “I fucking hope so.”

Your hand came to your stomach, rubbing. You were anxious to know what the sex was. When the sex had been able to be detected, Tony insisted you should stay in the dark so he could make it an actual reveal at the baby shower for you. You hated not knowing when he did, but he had been persistent about the idea of it and you had gone with it because he seemed thrilled with the idea. You just wanted to know. You were hoping the party would progress faster so you could end that anxiousness.

When it finally happened, the blue inside the cake settled something in you. At least you knew what that part of your future was going to look like.

<><><>

~2.5 months later…

“What’s this?” Tony asked, seeing another travel bag next to yours.

“It’s for Miles,” you said as if that was obvious. You went back into your closet, grabbing another scarf from your collection. It was going to be cold at Lake Tahoe for the trip.

Tony took the scarf from you and put it in your travel bag. “He doesn’t need a bag. He’s staying here.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, stricken. He was only a month old. Barely.

“Doctors said one month is enough, but a lot recommend three months for trips. So, we are going to play it safe. He’ll stay here and we will go.”

“Tony, I���we can’t leave him!” you tried to argue, your hand falling protectively on his travel bag.

Tony’s eyes flicked to your hands and he gripped them, prying them away to grasp them in his. He stared into your eyes and said, “Sure we can. It’s only three days, Y/N. We will be back before you know it. He is an infant; he’s not going to notice.”

You were going to notice leaving your infant behind.

“I have to breastfeed him,” you tried another argument.

“Pump before we leave. You have back up in the fridge, no? And it keeps for up to four days. And then he can have formula otherwise.”

“I didn’t want to give him formula,” you protested.

“Don’t listen to that shit that says it’s not good. I had formula and I’m a genius by earthly standards,” Tony said, trying to make a joke. “I already got the formula, Wendy knows how to whip it up.”

“But—” you started to protest but Tony interjected.

“Just us, princess. Just us,” Tony said, his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he cradled your face.  “He’ll be fine. He’s in very capable hands with Wendy. You trust her right?” He waited for you to respond and you nodded; you did trust her, wholeheartedly. But that did not mean you did not want to bring your infant on a trip with the two of you. Before you could actually say anything, Tony’s hands fell from your face and gripped at your hips, sliding back to your ass to hold you close. “Let’s enjoy ourselves.” He leaned in, nipping at your ear, “Let me enjoy you. He’s been stealing all your attention as of late.”

You hated that last comment. Throughout your pregnancy and even from the beginning, you had had a nagging feeling Tony was going to get jealous about sharing your affection and attention. And that was just proving it.

“I deserve some attention, don’t I, baby?”

Shoving down argument, you forced a quick smile. “Of course, daddy. All of my attention.”

He smiled sensually, his hands kneading at your ass as he pulled you closer. His eyes were alight with adoration for you. “That’s my perfect princess.”

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21, @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @kvzctam @farihafangirls, @teenageregression @mrsnegan25 @lilacs-lavender @agustdowney @kind-of-crazy-butthatsokay @emmariexx

[burning-clutch]

If A Ghost Howls In A Forest…

cross posted to a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30503925 Danny was hoping his time at a summer camp would be ghost-free, and well, of course not. When would things in his life ever NOT involve ghosts? At least he can hope to get some decent rest tonight, right? RIGHT? Warning: mild descriptions of death 

-.-.-.-.-

Prompt by: KC Summer Camps is not complete without a courage test of walking to the haunted woods at midnight. Amity Park campers are weirdly prepared for this. Other campers are not sure how to deal with that

-.-.-.-.-.-

“Why are we doing this?”

“It’s a sort of initiation type of thing.”

“But WHY?!”

“For the spooks?”

“I’ll get the lipstick…”

“Wait what?”

Danny sighed as he watched Tucker neander off back to their cabin to fetch the Fenton lipstick ray, ignoring the looks of confusion that was shot his way from the other campers that he didn’t know from school. Dash and Kwan had thankfully been, well, not assholes the WHOLE time they had been in the camp. Though to be fair, it had only been a day in this week long fun filled… whatever this was.

Apparently, while things seemed to start out well they were told around the evening campfire and cookout, (which was mostly just them poking hotdogs on sticks and trying not to burn themselves when they ate them,) they were told about a tradition about the new campers being lead up to spend a few hours on their first night on a midnight hike through the ‘haunted’ woods.

Danny was the first to groan hearing this followed by Tucker. Even Dash and Kwan looked unamused as well as the random soccer player that Danny vaguely recognized from school.

To say the councillors were confused by the amity park kids’ reactions would be selling the gambit of expression the councillors had. Teenagers being put in charge of slightly younger teenagers, yeah, nothing could go wrong here, nothing at all…

Tucker came back and tossed Danny a wrist ray while tucking the lipstick he had retrieved into his shirt pocket. A boy from some small farming town an hour’s drive from the camp shuddered. “Haunted Woods? How are you not worried about dark haunted woods? Ghosts are in there!” he exclaimed.

“Cuz it’s just ghosts right?” The Amity soccer player shrugged.

“Yeah, I mean the story they told us said that right? Those hikers that got hurt and died in the woods still haunt it to this day” Kwan supplied with a roll of his eyes. The jock wiggled his fingers doing a decent impression of the box ghost with an even more intimidating “OoooOOOoooOO”

“Yeah, unless they’re gonna be sporting some cool gore this will be lame,” Dash added with a yawn. “Pass.” Dash waved the councillor off before trying to turn and head off.

“Well, you don’t HAVE to go on the hike. But those who skip out will have to endure the punishment tomorrow. If you wanna peel hundreds of potatoes tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn you’re welcome to head back…. We’re also going to label you as a coward too so there’s that.”  One of the councillors says with a smug smile on their face.

“Has anyone ever seen anything like that?” A nervous looking twig of a boy asked, wringing his hands nervously.

“Oh I won’t say anything on that matter” The second councillor, Jeff says. At least Danny thinks he remembers the name as Jeff. He should probably learn that given this guy was in charge of the cabin he was staying in, “It’ll be better to leave it as a surprise.”

The first councillor, a jock looking guy, built like a brick house with thick shoulders and neck but a tiny waist and legs looking very much like he needed a few more rounds on leg day, eyed the Amity group with a look as though he were going to try to take scaring them as a challenge. Danny looked the guy over, raising a brow when their eyes locked.

Great, he and Tucker looked like an easy target. He knew that look all too well having spent plenty of time being bullied as well as with angry ghosts who underestimated him. More fun tonight will be had by all he was sure.

“Don’t worry We’ll make sure you’ll get some proper spooks.” the brick house says with what Danny assumed the other thought was an intimidating grin.

Dash snorted. “Fenton’s probably the only one who’ll get scared of the ghosts out there. He runs away from all of them back home.”

“Have you seen my parents? Get too close to a ghost and it picks up some contamination you know exactly what they’ll do!” Danny spat back with a glare of his own only barely managing to stop his eyes from glowing in his rapidly souring mood.

The other kids at the camp blink in confusion. “Wait… You guys are from that tourist town that goes way too far with the ghost theme right?” asked a pale kid with brown hair.

“Oh please, that’s just a gimmick” Answered another kid who crossed his arms in a huff.

“It’s not a gimmick dude, we even have our own superhero!” Kwan answered.

“Uh-huh. Well you’re superhero ain’t gonna save you from the ghosts out here”  Jeff shot back, crossing his arms. “Right, Tom?”

The brick house, Tom apparently nodded knowingly. “Yep, these ghosts are very dangerous and angry ya know..”

“So? It IS Monday,” Tucker offered flatly, earning a snort from the soccer player.

“Can we just… not do this?” A darker skinned nervous boy whined holding onto the arm of the brown haired kid reminding Danny of him and Tucker from two years ago before they got jaded from ghost attacks.

Kinda made him wonder what could have been…

“Nope we're going, so move,” Tom ordered taking up the place at the back of the line while Jeff took the place at the front.

Danny groaned. “Wonder if there will be any ghosts in there?” He wonders to tucker as they were all forced into a line for their ‘spooky’ hike.

“Maybe it’ll be one of Vlad’s abominations?” Tucker suggested.

“Honestly I wouldn't be surprised.” Danny sighed back with a frown. At least if it was a real ghost his ghost sense would alert him to the danger before they got too close.

They entered the treeline and started heading up a hill and towards the supposed site where the hikers had fallen and gotten trapped by a rock or something falling on them. Their legs were broken and crushed and stuck in place, they apparently died unable to get food or drink and unable to free themselves alone, and not able to scream loud enough for help. They still haunt this area… apparently.

Danny had to admit while the tragedy would be able to spawn a ghost but he also doubted there was one sentient around here if there was a ghost at all. He couldn’t sense very high ectoplasmic concentrations around here. Any ghosts that weren’t purely animalistic in nature wouldn’t last long out here without a boost of ecto-energy.

Which means if there was an animal ghost, that boost of energy could come from attacking humans or eating things as animals tend to do... Again attacking humans but instead of feasting on their emotions, well it’s just getting mauled.

More than anything it meant that if there was a malevolent ghost out there that they would have to be on their toes, and Tucker would have to run interference to make sure no one sees Phantom this far from Amity Park.

Well, at least none of the Amity park residents see Phantom this far from Amity.

As they walked up towards the crescent of the hill they noticed it was significantly colder, though it wasn’t a ghostly cold, at least those from Amity knew it wasn’t. The other kids though?

“Oh, man… Why is it so chilly?!” “You think that means the ghosts are close?” “No way man stop saying stupid stuff.”

“It’s probably the river,” Tucker said simply, pointing to the side where there was a winding stream just below the side of the hill. “The way the winds are blowing it’s cooling this area more.”

Danny smirked at his friend's explanation. It was a neat trick sure, but it wasn’t enough to scare the Amity kids. Frowning but not discouraged, the councillors led their troupe up and around towards a cave that was making a moaning noise every time the wind blew.

“They say this is where the hikers were killed, just at the mouth of this tunnel looking for shelter,” Tom says smirking, enjoying the shudders some of the younger teens were giving at the howls of the tunnel. “If you listen you can hear them screaming still.”

“The wind in the tunnel opening?” Kwan asked helpfully.

“No, it’s the howls of the damned.” Jeff encouraged

“And if you look close enough you can sometimes make out the glowing soul of their spirits,” Tom added ignoring the Amity jock.

“Oh neat! I didn’t know they had Panellus stipticus in this area!” The soccer jock said overly happily.

“Dude, when did you become a nerd.” Dash huffed out teasingly.

“I’m studying Bio to get into Uni for Mycology. Dude mushrooms are totally awesome.” Came the smug reply.

“You would know Kevin” Dash snapped back

“Moving on!” Tom called out before shooing the kids away. This was not going according to plan at all… Why are these Amity kids so prepared for this?! Well, hopefully, the next bit will get them…

As they round the cave towards a small rocky outcropping the councillors do their best to draw the younger teen’s attention towards the crevasse where there was supposedly still a shoe from one of the deceased hikers. “If y’all look hard enough you’ll find it I’m sure~,” Jeff told them.

Frowning the kids shined flashlights down into the ditch looking about before one kid called out, “I found a shoe!”

As they did several things happen at once. There was a roaring sound of pain before someone came bolting out of the woods with yellow and green glowing spots all over them. Tucker raised a brow but side-eyed Danny who shrugged.

The Amity kids watched in more confusion than fear as the ‘ghost’ ran out of the woods towards them and took a swipe at one of the youngest teens in their group. “So that’s your ghost? Lame.” Dash huffed out arms crossed. “It’s not even the right colours.” he added with a wave of his hand ignoring the screeching of some of the other kids who were clearly more startled by the ‘ghost’ than he was.

“So, can we go now?” Danny asked with a yawn as the ghost, or really one of the councillors with broken glow stick goo all over them came close to him with an ‘oooooOOOOoooo’

“You guys really didn’t even flinch?!” the ‘ghost complained.

“Oh hey, there you go now THAT looks more convincing.” Someone says just as Danny’s breath fogged a bit before his face.

The halfa looked to where his ghost sense had pointed him to see a big giant green drooling monster beast glaring at the humans towering over the majority of even the tallest in the group. “Yeah, that looks more like a ghost! How’d you do that?” The soccer player said, (Danny really needed to learn his name)

Tom and Jeff and the ‘ghost’ that was harassing Danny all yelp and take a few steps back while the non-Amity kids scrabble and scatter back the way they came.

“No he’s real,” Danny offers with a sigh of exasperation. “Here Cujo down!”

The beast barked and wagged its tail before shrinking down and giving a yip of delight before rushing over to Danny, legs never fully touching the ground as he flew over to the boy.

“Heel! Sit!” Danny calls out stopping the dog in its tracks before the beast could cover him in glowing green slobber.

Cujo did just that sitting practically on Danny’s feet and wiggling his tail so fast it made his butt jiggle back and forth in the effort. The teen sighed and scooped the wiggling beast up into his arms with little effort, mostly due to the fact that ghost dogs only weigh half of what their flesh and bone counterparts would.

“Figures Fent-freak would have a freaky ghost dog” Dash taunted crossing his arms though when Cujo growled, Dash’s smug smile fell.  

“Tha-That’s?” Jeff stammered out, pointing a shaking finger at the wiggling green bean in Danny’s hands.

“A typical Amity park ghost yeah,” Danny replied with a grin.  “So it's cool if we call this hike a night I’m kinda hoping to get some sleep, that’s kinda why I wanted to come here to catch up on that more than anything…” Danny admitted the last part a little quieter as he put Cujo back down.

The councillor nodded dumbly, moving back away from the teen and the ghost dog, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to bolt when Danny picked up a stick and threw it for Cujo to fetch.

“Awe man I think I stepped in Fen-turd’s dog’s invisible crap!” Dash complained as they all started moving back, Cujo yipping as he came back with the stick giving a snort at Dash before loyally following alongside Danny and phasing through trees as they walked.

Seeing this, Tom decided that it would be best if he hurried back to the cabins to get them ready for the new campers. Yes, That’s exactly what he’s doing…

“Dude you can’t seriously be thinking of keeping Cujo around here he’ll destroy the camp,” Tucker muttered to Danny watching the little pup chase its tail as he followed them.

“Eh, It’s not really fair to keep him in the thermos for the week. Besides I’m sure I can use this guy to get you that extra helping of bacon you wanted.” Danny bribed his friend.

Tucker’s eyes light up and he grins brightly “Cujo here boy! Come see the T-man!”

Danny rolled his eyes, but so long as that was the only ghost they encountered out here, he might actually have a decent week of sleep ahead of him.

He can only hope.

Besides, using Cujo as a threat to Dash sounded like as good a plan as any, and if the councillors were too scared to go near the ghost dog that they would let him sleep in, all the better for him.

Danny smirked, perhaps camp wouldn’t be so bad after all~

-.-.-.-.-.-

Complete Total:  2363

[daggryet]

i kinda miss the eggpire when people took it more seriously... I don't know, I guess it kind of makes me sad that they worked rlly hard to make this cool horror plot line with an eldritch abomination and people just point and laugh at them. no offense to cc!technoblade either, but it seems like a lot of that actually happened after his stream with the egg so like. i know his rp style is /lh but it makes people care less about the stakes of the other plot lines he shows up in.

unless he shows up being all cool and junk, re: the red banquet.

i dunno! maybe people were making fun of the egg plot line before that stream and i didn't notice until then but it still stinks. I know its too early to tell, but i do hope they keep the egg plot and don't like. abandon it.

the thing is that the egg lore wasn't devoid of humour, but there was always an underlying threat - like when c!tommy and c!tubbo made fun of it, but c!tubbo seemed affected and c!tommy took it seriously, tried to protect him. there was a lightheartedness to the scene, but there was still a threat, and you were scared of that threat until sam nook came and helped them. you were scared when the eggpire chased c!tommy until he found safety with sam nook

and the way the egg spread slowly throughout the server, people going from confusion to dread at the egg, how it learned and evolved and adapted to the server; how it preyed on people's deepest desires that they didn't say out loud. it was such a cool premise - still is

and the threat that the egg provided was so important for the audience to believe in it, to believe that the egg had power and influence - not physical power, but psychological power. and that it had the power to make people do things, like c!sam eating his own flesh

i wrote this post after the stream with techno and puffy:

because the set up to that stream was one of the coolest of any stream, and it just...fell so short, and it was very unfortunate.

because while i wouldn't have minded the omelette bit, the humour of the situation, if there'd still been that threat in the scene; if there'd been played more on the egg asking whether it'd seen c!technoblade somewhere before. but there was none of it, there was just comedy hour feat. the egg - and yeah, it was just unfortunate it was executed like that.

the problem, i think, lies in that c!technoblade is a character that relies heavily on physical power, respects physical power - but that's not what the egg is. it's psychological. and if there's no reaction from the character to this psychological terror, then the egg loses all power it has.

i don't think they're gonna abandon the plotline after so long of establishing it, teasing the egg hatching, how damaging to the server the next stage will be. but i think cc!badboyhalo said it wouldn't go on for much longer, so hopefully it'll come back when l'sandberg's been resolved (we can hope, i always liked the egg)

[an-odd-idea]

Time to rant about things of zero consequence. You know what I hate? Freaking Bolero, that’s what.

This piece of music is a blight upon the fair sport of figure skating. It’s overused, but that’s not what makes it so bad. Other pieces of music like Carmen, Swan Lake, and Moonlight Sonata have also been done to death at this point, but at least those are pleasant to listen to and actually allow for some form of artistic expression. Bolero just goes on for 4 entire minutes with no change or development except for getting gradually noisier, with the same dang beat going on the entire time. You could start the thing, fast forward thirty seconds, or two minutes, or right to the end, and it’ll sound the exact same anywhere, the only difference being how many instruments are going at once.

The skater has no choice but to skate through the music rather than to it because the music gives them nothing. They can time their jumps to the lifts in the music, but it’s the same lift every time so they really don’t want to be that predictable when it’s, you know, the fifth jumping pass and the feel of it is the exact same as the previous four. That sums up the whole thing pretty well, actually. Perfectly, mind-numbingly predictable. I don’t care if you’ve heard it 200 times or if you’ve never heard it before in your life, it will never give you anything you didn’t hear coming 20 seconds ahead of time.

And how on earth do you make a good step sequence or choreo sequence to Bolero? There is no emotion, no change, no building and releasing of tension, it’s just the same plodding rhythm the entire time. How are they supposed to basically dance to that? So they don’t, they just do the right number of steps and turns to get a level 3 or 4 step sequence while the music plays in the background. They do their final spin on the leisurely ‘climax’ of the song because it’s gotta end somehow, and there we go, yay they did it, hopefully they got enough points for a medal, woohoo.

Bolero, man. It’s only popular because of Torvill and Dean, and it didn’t do them any favors either. They just did some really cool moves and it became iconic because it was also playing at the time.

Thank you for coming to my impromptu TED talk

Ah, I learned something new! Of course skaters have to use a 4 minute cut, but the song is actually 15 minutes long! 15 minutes! And just like the abridged abomination, it doesn’t change or vary, it just gets louder!

It wouldn’t be half as bad if it didn’t have that drum thing going on, because the melody does have some nice variation in which instrument is playing so different parts could have a different feel IF there wasn’t the SAME gosh darn highly prominent drum beat going on the ENTiRe time.

Anyway, screw Bolero.

[amalgamau]

Chapter 4

It’s been a while! A lot has gone on! There’s a TON more of you than last time! Hopefully the chapter makes up for it. And if you aren’t caught up I added a handy little set of links to help navigate the chapters of the story! Especially since the early stuff is buried pretty deep at this point. But for now, enjoy the story! May we soon be out of the first day.

Directory First | Previous | Next

“And that about sums it up,” Steven sighs, staring at his family. Looks of horror, confusion, and pain bled onto their faces as they processed the events that led up to this moment. 

Steven takes a breath, then adds,“Blue and Yellow are waiting by the warp pad. We should head over when we’re ready.”

Garnet freezes for a moment, unmoving, then growls lowly.

“I won't do it,” she snarls in seething rage. Everyone turns to her as angry tears stream down her face. “They took everything from us! They took our lives from us. They put us through so much pain. I will NEVER forgive them.”

Steven saddens looking at her.

“Garnet... I know...” he begins but is cut off by Garnet.

“NO! You can’t know how this feels! Dying and becoming a twisted SHADOW of what I was! A reminder of what we LOST!”

Amethyst and Pearl step in front of her.

“¡uʍop ɯlɐɔ 'ʇǝuɹɐפ” Amethyst calls out in her unintelligible gibberish.

“P̴̯͒̌͐l̸̹̥̠̃̊e̶̢͕͛͝á̴̼̃̆s̷͙̩̰͝ë̶̪́̍,̶̺̜̅ ̷͕̹̆b̸͇̥̅͊e̵͔̤̝͋ ̶̨̟̜͑͊̕r̷͙̹͝è̴̩̀̑ả̴̠̈͠s̴̠͗̄́o̵̜̚ṇ̸̬̘̊ǎ̸̫͐b̸̢̒͐l̶̦̯͙͝é̸͍͍̂ ̶̱͖̐G̸͈͈̣̿̚ã̵̟͉̞̈̚r̵̤̮͇̚n̷͔̟̐e̶̩̰̿t̶̯̂̃!̶͚̍͝͝” Pearl adds softly.

“YOU’RE DEFENDING THEM?!” Garnet calls out.

Bismuth steps solidly in between Garnet and the others.

“No. We aren’t,” she states firmly, “but they’re listening to Steven. So while we regroup, we should play along.”

Garnet remains silent, angry tears burn each of her eyes as they stream down her face. Steven embraces Garnet, hugging her tightly. Amethyst and Pearl follow as Steven manages to choke his words out.

“I’m so sorry Garnet... If I had been a little faster or stronger... none of this would have happened...”

Garnet sobs softly, clinging to Steven.

“No... I’m sorry. I... don’t see any timeline where this didn’t happen.”

Steven takes a moment to process this, then clings tighter to Garnet, tears stinging his eyes as he whimpers.

“I just want them to leave. I don’t want anything to do with them.”

Bismuth puts a hand on his shoulder and softly tells him,“We don’t like it any more than you do. But if we want them gone, we have to try something different. Like it or not, this is our best chance to get through this.”

With a long and heavy sigh, Steven wipes away his tears.

“Ok. Let’s do this,” he mumbles, the exhaustion in his voice evident.

The group makes their way out of the now ruined fountain. As Yellow and Blue see Steven step out, they perk up in excitement. However, the moment the newly revived Gems step out, the Diamonds reel back in disgust.

“Stars!” Blue cries out in shock and appall.

“What in the world are those... things?!” Yellow cries out in disgust. The Crystal Gems recoil in a mix of shame and sadness, Garnet specifically turning away to hide her seething hatred. She suddenly freezes with a thousand-yard stare as she becomes locked in her Future Vision, seeing suddenly every horrible thing that might happen in the next exchange. The visions mortify her, so much so that she finds herself frozen in terror. Steven, meanwhile, looks at the Diamonds with a furious gaze that burns holes through their forms.

“That,” he states through clenched teeth, “is my family.”

“Oh my!” Blue gasps in shock.

“Pink, what did you do?!” Yellow asks in shocked horror. 

Steven’s eyes widen with rage.

“What did I do?!” he shouts in anger.

“Yellow, please.” Blue pleads, putting a hand on her shoulder. Yellow ignores her, staring at the gems.

“Those THINGS are abominations! I never should have let you try to heal them.”

Steven’s anger boils over, balling his hands into fists as he tears up.

“QUIET” he howls in anguish. The ground shakes around them as all eyes turn to Steven. “You don’t GET to talk about them. This is YOUR FAULT!” he wails, creating a crater under him. Everyone is blown back as shockwaves whip wildly from him, emanating in a burning energy, his tears fly upwards from the radiating aura.

“My fault?” Yellow gasps in shock at the accusation. “I didn’t make those things!”

“I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” Steven shrieks, his crater being dug larger and deeper as everyone stares, dumbfounded. “IF YOU HADN’T COME HERE NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED! YOU HURT THEM! YOU HURT ME! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANOTHER FUCKING WORD!” The ground cracks further from the crater as the air whips wildly around him, pushing against everyone.

Bismuth pushes her way towards Steven through the shockwaves and wind as Blue calls out with tears in her eyes, “Steven! Yellow! Please stop!”

Steven ignores her, continuing to scream as if she weren’t even there. 

“NOTHING YOU COULD EVER SAY WILL FIX THIS! IF YOU CAN’T HELP, THEN LEAVE US THE FUCK ALONE!”

Bismuth manages to get past the shockwaves and wind, grabbing Steven and pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Steven! It’s going to be okay! Please! You need to calm down!” she shouts to him through the sound of the winds as she holds him close to her, putting his head to her chest. As Bismuth holds him, his rage melts into anguished sobs. The gems and Connie join in the embrace. Blue and Yellow stare as Steven sobs into the arms of his broken family, the group tearing up in the embrace. Connie finds herself in the middle with Steven and in the embrace, begins sobbing as well as the weight of what has happened fully hits her, all the while the gems hold the two children. Blue turns to Yellow, her eyes wet.

“We hurt her. We hurt Pink,” Blue says tearfully.

“We didn’t know! How could we have? She faked her shattering!” Yellow counters.

“No!” Blue responds. “We hurt her so often on Homeworld. Ignoring her, locking her away when she misbehaved, punishing her in those awful ways. This is just like then!”

She begins sobbing.

“It was for her own good!” Yellow counters as she holds back tears of her own.

“If she was miserable enough to fake her own shattering and run away without any remorse, how much good could it have done?!” Blue sobs “She left to be happy! And she was until we ruined her happiness here, too!”

Yellow slams her fist into the nearby cliff as she begins to cry.

“How dare you use your powers on me Blue! Why would you try to manipulate me like this!”

“I’m not!” Blue responds. “You know I wouldn’t! We have to make this right.” Yellow sniffs as she asks, “And how do you propose, we do that?”

“However we can,” Blue states.

The two return to the broken family, wiping their tears as the sobbing winds down. Yellow takes a deep breath as Blue places an encouraging hand on her shoulder.

“Steven...” Yellow begins in a careful and soft tone. Steven looks up, glaring daggers into her through his red, tear-filled eyes.

“What?” he hisses.

“We...” she starts “I... am so incredibly sorry for the pain that I... we both caused. I know that means nothing... but please know that we both will dedicate ourselves to making this up to you in any way we can.”

Steven remains silent, his expression unchanging as Blue chimes in.

“You are our family. There is no excuse that we can give to ease the suffering we have caused to you and those you care for... but please... allow us the chance to try and make things right in any way we can.”

Steven stares at them for a long time, then looks to the gems and Connie. He speaks up, his voice raspier than before.

“Fine,” he huffs. “If you want to help, then help my family. You hurt them. You fix it.”

Blue and Yellow flinch at the request, then Yellow sighs.

“Steven...” Yellow starts as he resumes his glare. “I promise to do everything in my power to find a way to help them. But the best chance of that are the resources on Homeworld.”

Blue adds, “Our ships were destroyed... we may be stuck here.”

Bismuth speaks up for the first time since the Diamonds approached them.

“I can repair them. It won’t be pretty, but it’ll get the job done.”

Steven looks sadly at Bismuth.

“You don’t have to help them Bismuth,” he says softly.

Bismuth smiles warmly at him then looks up at the Diamonds with a grimace as she speaks.

“Believe me Steven, I don’t like the idea of working on a project for the Diamonds. If it were up to me, I’d send the upper crusts packing a different way entirely.” She slams her fist to the ground to make a point. “But seeing as they want to help. I can put my pride aside to lend a hand.” Blue and Yellow look uncomfortably at the group as everyone gets up.

“Very well,” Blue says softly. “We should depart for the ships and begin repairs.” Bismuth looks at them with a scowl.

“You can start without us. We still have to tend to the things You two made a mess of.” Yellow opens her mouth to speak, but closes it as she reflects on the situation. She walks to the warp pad.

“Very well,” she huffs. “We will begin salvaging the wreck. Tend to whatever you must and offer whatever help you feel so inclined to give.”

With that, the two Diamonds warp away as the Crystal Gems walk to the warp pad. Steven holds Connie’s hand as the two look at each other with unease.

“How do I explain this to my parents?” Connie asks. Steven looks down in sorrow.

“I... don’t know...”

The group looks at each other as Pearl suddenly begins to panic.

“Pearl, what’s wrong?” Steven asks in concern.

“Ǐ̸͉.̵͓̉.̶̻̊.̷̹̎ ̴͈̎Ǐ̵̼ ̷͈̋c̶͉͝a̶̛͇n̸̩̈́'̶̪͑ṫ̸̪ ̶̰̐à̸̗c̵̳͘t̵̹̽ȉ̶̭ṿ̴̑a̷͂ͅt̷̟͝e̶͔̊ ̴͈̉ţ̵͂h̸̦̆e̵͙͗ ̵̺͑w̶͕̐a̴̪̕r̵̳̊p̶̛͙!̸͍̿” she responds in a panic.

Amethyst and Garnet look to each other in concern as they both attempt to do the same.

“I-I can’t either!” Garnet adds fearfully.

“¡ʞɹoʍ ʇ,uoʍ ʇI” comes Amethyst’s terrified voice.

Steven turns around and looks at them.

“Please calm down! Let me try!” he says as the group tries to relax. Steven activates the warp, returning them to the ruins of the Beachhouse.

“I̸̫͋ṫ̸̳ ̶̺͗w̴̖̓o̵̱̓r̸̺̈́k̷̟͑e̷͉̔ḑ̴̿!̶̨̈́” Pearl says relieved. But it is immediately followed by the realization. “̶͍͐S̴̨̓o̷̹͆.̴̯͆.̸̳̎.̷͉̾ ̶͍́ẅ̷̟́a̴̯̋s̴̖͋ ̴̜͝i̵̳͒ẗ̶̩́ ̵͓͝u̶̻͝s̵͔̀?̴̞̑”

Garnet looks at her four hands and wonders out loud.

“What else about us has changed?”

[lover-of-skellies]

I was looking at your angst Promt list and when I saw 'Locked up and left behind' I immediately thought of the star sanses and blue being left behind by them. You can if you want, you don't have.

Ayyye, I gotcha dude, no worries -finger guns-

This is a bit longer than I'd originally planned on, but hey :P hopefully you'll like it!

---

"WAIT, WAIT NO, PLEASE, YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE."

The youngest of the Star Sanses peeked out from between the bars of his confinement, cyan tinted tears pricking at his sockets as he stared at his... no, they weren't his friends. Not anymore. The solid black sockets and single gold eye that stared back at him only served as evidence. These weren't his friends anymore... these... these were something evil.

A thick, inky tendril shot between the bars of his confinement area and twisted itself around his neck vertebrae, the impact throwing him backward into the stone wall and earning a sharp, pained cry from him as he felt a small crack begin to form in the back of his skull.

The abomination that was once Dream simply tilted his head, a twisted grin on his face as he watched Blue begin to sob, his small frame now trembling. Inhaling deeply through his nasal cavity, the now Shattered Dream let out a sigh of pleasure, "Oh Blue... keep crying for me. It feels amazing."

From behind Dream, the third skeleton leaned his weight onto his oversized brush, his widened, empty sockets and fanged smirk giving him a somewhat manic look as he chuckled, watching the exchange between his teammates. His chuckling escalated into full blown laughter as Blue whined loudly, the gold tinged tendril around his neck tightening the smallest bit.

Reaching a certain point, his laughter then turned into a series of nearly bone rattling coughs, gaining the attention of Dream, who arched a brow bone, "Ink? What's the matter with you now?" Ink shook his head, trying his best to muffle his coughing. Seeing that his companion was unable to speak due to his current state, the goop covered guardian sighed again, this time shoving an entirely black fruit that resembled an apple in his direction, accompanying the action with a single order, "Eat it. It'll help with the transition."

Knowing better than to refuse the order, Ink snatched up the fruit and began to consume it. Shifting his focus back to Blue, Dream tugged him closer to the bars with his tentacle and held out a hand, offering the smaller skeleton a second black fruit, "I want you to take it, Blue. Now."

Blue stared at the fruit for a moment before nervously looking back to Dream and sniffling, "W-Why?... What is it? What's it gonna do to me, Dream?..." The guardian rolled his eyes, visibly starting to become agitated as he snapped, "It's a fruit. Take it, eat it, and shut up, or else we'll leave you here to die."

Blue's sockets widened, his eye lights constricted and now the tiniest of pin pricks. He was supposed to... eat the fruit? He wasn't sure what it was, but something told him it wouldn't be a good idea. He opened his mouth to form a response, but was cut off as Ink dropped his own half eaten fruit, pressing a hand over his mouth and gagging, the same goop that covered the guardian now beginning to ooze between his fingers.

Blue stared in horror; he wasn't sure what the fruit was doing to Ink, but he wanted no part of it. Though his soul was racing and thudding heavily in his chest, he reached through the bars and slapped the fruit out of Dreams hand, his sockets squeezed tightly shut as he shrieked, "LEAVE ME BEHIND THEN, I DON'T CARE. YOU'LL NEVER MAKE ME EAT WHATEVER THAT WEIRD FRUIT WAS."

Dream, momentarily startled at the sudden outburst, watched the fruit roll across the floor for a few seconds before his single golden iris suddenly snapped back to Blue, narrowing slightly in annoyance, "Pathetic. You know, maybe we're doing you a favor here, Blue. A weakling like you couldn't last more than a day out there with us... for precisely the same reason why you wouldn't last if you were in the guard." He paused, leaning closer to the bars and lowering his voice to a mumble, "Because you'd only get in the way, and you'd die."

Blue's sockets began to water up again, and he yelped as the same tendril from before lifted him up and carelessly tossed him backward.

Feeling impatient, a second tendril scooped up Ink, who'd been doubled over in pain. A third tendril emerged to gather up his oversized brush, and turning on his heels, Dream began to walk away, leaving Blue alone in his cell, laying on the cold floor and sobbing brokenly.