#whooo whoop

[thuggalotribune]

BALLAS ON A BOAT

Saturday December 16th, 2023

[salemsweats]

Silly guy

[trickcomic]

Chapter 1: Page 12

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Archive | Comic Fury (High Res)

[fyrewalks]

meta: bob + broken glasses

one.

bob is ten the first time someone breaks his glasses. it happens two weeks after his bubbe returns home to new jersey; two weeks since his mom has been out of bed or off the couch longer than a few hours. nearly three months since his dad's latest deployment and six since his older sister, stevie, died.

it happens on the playground, easy to assume it's some childish skirmish over a swing set - bob's shy even then, made worse by his grief, and prefers to stick to the outskirts and swings during outdoor play at day-camp. (summer day-camp instead of montana, instead of his mom accepting the good natured teasing about her being a city girl or the not so quiet arguments between his grandma and dad about who will take the floyd ranch someday.) none of the counselors hear the taunts. bob doesn't repeat them. the kids accuse him of being different; he assumes they're saying it because of his dead sister. (he won't realize the kind of different they mean for a few years.)

he hides his broken glasses in the back of one of his drawers. his mom doesn't notice, his dad's calls home are too infrequent, gracie's six and easy to distract. it's not till a few weeks of meal trains and hushed discussions about his mom and doctor's appointments among the aunties who come over to watch them that anyone notices he's supposed to be wearing them at all.

two.

the second time it happens, bob is a few months shy of fifteen, all awkward limbs and little self-confidence. it's his second cross-country meet and he doesn't want to be there. the floyds are back in virginia - after three different middle schools, there's only a few vaguely familiar faces here and none of them are on the team. it leaves bob feeling more out of place.

he came out as summer ended on a friday night, a rare shabbat dinner that's just gracie and their parents instead of the eclectic mix of friends from their synagogue and whoever on base that wants, or needs, a place to be on a friday night. his mom cries, though she tries not too, while it's his dad whose the first to hug him and reassure bob he's loved no matter what. he knows his parents talk about it later, that they confide in each other their fears about his future, but they brave his confession with watery smiles and the promise everything will be okay.

he doesn't come out at school. it's less a definitive choice and more that he doesn't need to. other kids simply just know. bob isn't sure what gives him away - if it's his slouchy posture, his voice, or something else entirely. most leave it alone, but there are taunts and curses in between classes; he's shoved into a locker, once. bob doesn't like it, but considers it tame. he's bounced between montana, virginia, and florida his entire life, usually living in the shadows of navy bases. he isn't ignorant. (new jersey, at least, only carries the weight of his dead sister.)

it's tame until it's not. until his second cross-country meet. bob's in the middle stretch, pace decent enough to keep up with some of the older kids, and he's actually starting to enjoy himself. and then there's a hand on his back and he's crashing to the ground, literally tasting dirt. bile rises in his throat as he watches his glasses get stomped on deliberately, he can't unhear the accompanying slur.

he makes it to the finish line with a limp, mud on his face, and broken glasses. when his mom fusses over him later, bob blames it on being clumsy. no sense in making her worry; he doesn't like it when she cries.

three.

bob's sixteen with a long summer of open blue sky awaiting him. he skips dinner with his grandma up at the big house in favor of the bunk house with the ranch hands hired for the season. someone hands him a beer with a wink and a sly 'don't tell your grandma'; it doesn't taste great, but after a day of fixing fences, he likes that it's ice cold. he likes that he belongs, he likes that he can imagine his dad at this age too - it's the first time he feels like a man.

most of the ranch hands know him, they've seen him grow up in bits in pieces. they finish dinner and bob's content to listen to the way conversation flows and settles around him until they drag him into it too. does he like school, what's florida like, how are his folks and sister back home. then - you kissing any girls, yet?

bob answers honestly, he hasn't kissed anyone. at first, he doesn't mind the laughter, but it turns bitter in the mouth of one of the new ranch hands. there's something ugly in his eyes.

a chair scrapes back and adrenaline blurs it all together. there's shouting and fists and someone pulling him out of the way. trying to retreat, bob catches an elbow in the face and his glasses end up under someone's boot.

the unmistakable sound of his grandma's shotgun ends the skirmish. his grandma stays behind to deal with the mess while an older ranch hand gets him fixed up in the big house. later, when bob still can't sleep, his grandma sits on the edge of his bed with a sigh. it's too dark to read her expression. she tells him that his dad will take it better coming from him rather than her and that if he wants to drink in her house, he better never get drunk or stupid; he can't throw a punch worth a damn.

four.

he's eighteen, and his mom won't stop crying. there shouldn't be tears, not with bob's new diploma and a mit acceptance letter pinned proudly to the fridge. at least, there shouldn't be so many tears; it is a bittersweet occasion, an unavoidable reminder of the dead sister forever frozen at fourteen.

grief isn't the reason for the tears, though. no, the real reason is the neat stack of paperwork tucked safely in bob's desk committing him to the nrotc and eight years of navy service after. it's a choice he refuses to budge on and it leads to a few tense weeks in the floyd household.

he knows somethings wrong the minute he walks in the kitchen two weeks after graduation, both parents seated at the small table, clearly waiting for him. gracie isn't home; she's got regionals coming up, they should be with her at practice. (bob's long since taken the backseat to her gymnastic aspirations and he's mostly been okay with her hogging their parents attention; he just hates that it's their focus on him that causes alarm bells to go off.)

it starts off simple enough - reminders of his parents sacrifices. his dad doing his best to ensure his children wouldn't be forced to choose between the life sentence of a ranch or the navy. his mom, happy with the life she chose, but still always wondering about the life she might have had if she hadn't dropped out of college to marry and raise children. it's the reason they both pushed so hard for academics and sports and extracurriculars. then, it's the pricey flight lessons touted as more of a financial burden then it really is for the floyds. if he wants to fly, isn't that enough for him?

bob might not get the whole picture, but his maternal grandparents paid for his truck. all cash. between all three grandparents, he knows his parents haven't hurt for much (so long as their pride hasn't stood in the way).

but god dammit, what about his own sacrifices? what about bob, ten and anxious and terrified, begging his mom to get out of bed? what about bob, stuck in the routine of waking up gracie and making sure she has breakfast and lunch even after his mom escapes the fog of depression? or his childhood? one marked by four elementary schools, three middle schools, and two high schools. no one should be surprised that he chose the navy when his dad's service defined his early life.

why is his choice to join the navy and fly any different than gracie's devotion to gymnastics? it's the same risk. gracie could break her neck too.

or, what about plain want? clear blue sky - bob saw so much of it on the ground, he wanted the 30,000 ft views too.

but these thoughts are kinder than the words actually said. bob drags up every awful detail of his mom's depression, how his dad's grief and ill timed deployment felt like neglect. it doesn't matter if his points about chores and helping with gracie were valid after that. the damage is done on his side.

there's more yelling and tears and then the final blow - his dad shouting that bob's gay and it makes him weak, the navy will chew him up and spit it him out. but his dad's temper runs fast and quick, it ends with a too quiet 'fine, if the navy's your choice, you got a day to get out of the house.' they won't burry another child.

bob, the ever dutiful son, listens. on the flight to montana, cramped in a back row, he looks at his glasses held loosely in his fist and thinks it might hurt less if they were broken.

four, five, or six?

three months after his parents kick him out, he goes from montana to boston. he starts at mit and he finds, surprisingly, with some encouragement from new friends that beer and whiskey and cigarettes make him braver than he's ever been.

and the thing is, he's got his dad's same quick temper; it's just he's never had much use for it, always too quiet and too shy to find anywhere to put it. but a crowded bar? a guy being a jerk and not listening? sure, that's as good a place as any.

turns out, his grandma is right - bob still doesn't know how to throw a punch. sometimes, he remembers how he got the bruises, crooked frames, and scratched lenses. sometimes, he doesn't. either way, bob tells himself he's got it under control. except - he misses classes, he can't wait tables hung over, and no one is exactly impressed with him at the nrotc.

in the end, it's a combination of things that get bob to quit drinking his second year of college. (although, he still occasionally sneaks cigarettes when stressed.) gracie crying, a few letters from his parents. more than a few genuine apologies. a concerned commanding officer, citing his dad's respectful career record and how bob won't measure up like this. a patient rabbi and a better group friends than his first roommate, the one who dragged bob out partying his first night in boston. trading bars and beers for the library, more classes to average out his abysmal gpa.

it changes somethings, a relationship with his parents that sometimes feels like walking on ice, deciding to focus on weapon systems than outright piloting, but not everything. bob recommits to his faith, goes back to pretending things don't bother him, and decides life's a lot easier when people think he's just some nerdy stick in the mud than someone who can't handle his liquor.

[professorllayton]

FINALLY FOUND SOME CHEW BONES THAT MY DARLING DOG ACTUALLY LIIIIKEEEESS TEEEEHHEHEHEHEEE!!!! HELL YEAH TO HER TEETH BEING ACTUALLY USED SLAAAAYY

[laskume-dragon]

Tag nine people you want to get to know better

Thanks @bjornolf-bjarki :D

Favorite color: i'm pretty sure its *looks at tumblr aesthetic, wallpaper and room decor* purple--

Currently reading: a natural History of Dragons by Marie Brennan; Grauwacht by Robert Corvus; the green Witch by Arin Murphy-Hiscock and some weird book for school ._. (yup..i read a lot at the same time hfjfj and its not even everything. Just the books i touched most recently)

Last Song: Run for your life by The Seige

Last movie: can't remember. Last thing i watched was Gravity Falls

Sweet/spicy/savory: all of them!!

Currently working on: Evolve (my Hellsing/ark fic); Jobapplications & some artwork for my brothers birthday

I tag: @sera-chylle @shevalras @anothersoulless @friedrichnapier @taxideermy @loadinghellsing @feralhousecat @diamond-star @corvusmorteraibun

[darksaiyangoku]

RWBY Christmas Tales

The Dessert Incident

Ruby: *squeals* I can't believe it! Our kids are gonna make the Christmas dinner this year! Mmmmm, I can already taste it! *spins around*

Jaune: I know, right? Finally, we get to put our feet up, relax and *bridal carries Ruby* have a little fun of our own. *kissss Ruby's cheek*

Ruby: Jaune, stop it! *giggles*

Jaune: *opens the door* Dante, Vergil, Blake! Merry- oh... oh god no.

What Jaune and Ruby saw was nothing short of a war zone. Blake was holding her brothers apart as they tried to attack each other with their swords.

Dante: You're such a jackass!

Vergil: At least I'm responsible. If I wasn't here, you'd have burned down the kitchen.

Dants: You ruined the dessert!

Vergil: You ruined my jacket!

Blake: *straining*

Jaune: Okay, enough! *drops Ruby*

Ruby: Ow!

Jaune: Whoops! Sorry, beautiful. *helps Ruby back up* What is going on with you two?

Ruby: What happened to the house?

Dante/Vergil: Dante/Vergil ruined everything!

Blake: *sighs* I'll explain, mom. See, all of us decided to divide the responsibilities of the Chrisfmas dinners. I was gonna do appetisers, Vergil was gonna do the dinner and Dante was gonna do the dessert. Things were going great... until Vergil decided to help Dante.

Dante: If by 'help', you mean 'wreck everything'.

Vergil: Dante, I swear to god!

Dante: I told you not to add raisins in the Christmas cookies.

Vergil: Well I like raisins! Besides, I wanted something different instead of chocolate chips all the time and raisins are healtnier too.

Dante: I don't care if they're healthy! They taste gross and absolutely do not belong in cookies!

Vergil: Do too!

Dante: Do not!

Jaune: Okay, okay. Look Dante, I think you should be more appreciative of Vergil trying to help you.

Dante: Hmph.

Jaune: And Vergil, you should've stuck to recipe. I know you like raisins, but everyone might not and you have to respect that.

Vergil: I guess. Still, he didn't need to set my jacket on fire.

Ruby: You what?!

Dante: *nervous laugh* Uhh, we can worry about that later. Right now, let's just clean up.

After the mess had been cleared up, the Rose-Arc family gathered together and sat down for a wonderful Christmas feast. Jaune and Ruby's stomachs growled with hunger as Blake took of the lid to reveal a crispy, roasted turkey.

Vergil: Little brother, would you like to do the honours?

Dante: By all means. *grabs Crocea Mors*

Blake: Whooo!!!! Go Dante!

Jaune: No! The family sword is not for carving turkey!

Ruby: *laughing*

[cloudycleric]

WHOWHO WHOOP WHO WHOOP WHOOO WHOOO IS IT WHOOO WHOOO

[phr0gg13]

A Manticore Crashed my 14th Birthday Party

(Part 1)

Luke Castellan x Daughter Of Hecate!

(Series Masterlist)

Heres part one of the chapter! I didnt realize that it was too long for tumblr… Whoops! (Part Two)

I hated school with a passion. My father had me sent away to a private school at the age of 12. He said I would academically excel there as well as not feel so isolated, that there would be more kids like me. Well… He was wrong. Completely and utterly so. In my two years at this school, I have been nothing but an outcast. My father has made it a tradition to write to me as often as possible and try to visit whenever his work allows him. He has even made sure to visit me on my birthday. Today was the day, November 16th, I finally turned 14, meaning I also began my freshman year. Whooo!! My father will be here sometime in the afternoon, and we will get milkshakes and catch up. He will also give me a gift, which is usually not all that expensive. We discussed it throughout letters, and I always thoroughly enjoy the presents. Though this year, I secretly wish for an MP3 player. I had told my dad that I yearn for my own music, and he told me that he would see what he could do.

I had gotten through the utterly boring classes today, and now it was later in the afternoon. My father would be here soon, and I was getting dressed in some comfy clothes. There was a knock at my door, and a voice came through it: “Ms. Cain, your father has arrived and is downstairs in the lobby waiting for you.” It was the headmistress of the girls' dormitory. I let out a small sigh as I ran my hands over my outfit; I was nervous for some reason. I didn't know why; I never am nervous to see my dad. I went to the door and opened it. “There you are! Come on, you do not want to leave your father waiting,” Ms. Lucia ushered me downstairs, and I saw my father. He was as cleaned up as he could be. He worked hard, long days at construction sites, but he was looking quite cleaned up. I quickly went up and hugged him. “Hey kiddo.” His gruff voice came out, and he held me tight. “Happy birthday, are you ready to go get a milkshake?” He smiled at me as he squatted down to my height a bit. I nodded my head, not being able to find my voice for some reason; this was weird. I was acting weird, and I didn't know why. He gave me a small smile, and we went to his beat-up truck. I rested my head against the window and closed my eyes. I focused on the vibrations of the truck window against my head as a way to ease my anxiety.

“You okay, Kiddo?” I heard my father ask with worry in his voice. “Yeah… I'm okay,” I responded quietly, meaning to be louder. My body seemed not to want to raise my voice. As we entered the old-fashioned diner, which seemed to be one of the more popular spots in this small town, the odd feeling I had before came back in full force. My father and I made our way to the booth; I sat down on one side while he sat on the other. He smiled at me and grabbed the menu. “Let me guess what you want.” He had a playful tone to his words as he dramatically rubbed his chin. “A hot sauce and mayo milkshake?” He said with a grin on his face. I giggled and shook my head. “I want a strawberry one! You should know this; I get it every time.” I rolled my eyes at his antics; I was starting to feel a bit better now that we were sitting. Eventually, a waitress came over and started to ask about our orders. My dad ordered for me, though I tuned out their conversation as the waitress started to flirt with him. Gross.

I turned my attention to the window and saw that the sky had changed drastically; it was dark and gloomy. I had even seen some lightning in the distance. I closed my eyes as I felt the feeling come back. Every cell in my body was telling me to run and hide. I didn’t understand; I was completely fine! That was until I heard screaming from outside. I whipped my head and looked to see a giant lion with wings? It had a scorpion tail too, and it had landed on someone's car. I looked over to my father, seeing the look on his face made me feel even worse. He was mortified; I had never seen him like this before. “Honey, we have to go. Now!” He shouted as he got out of the booth. He grabbed onto my arm and pulled me out of the booth. We started to run out of the diner to the truck. I was so confused. “Dad? What's going on? What is that?” He shook his head as he fiddled with his keys; the truck was giving him trouble starting. I thought he was gonna break his key with how hard he was turning it. I looked out the window and saw the lion was coming towards us. Eventually, my dad got the truck to start; he stepped on the gas as hard as he could, and we were off. I hugged myself tight as I tried to calm myself. “It's okay, kiddo… We are okay!” My dad's tone almost seemed like he was pleading with someone. He continued to speed away from the diner…

[nobodywhoishere]

last line game ✏

tagged by the lovely @snowangeldotmp3 (and also @fastcardotmp3 youve tagged me in this before i think?)

rules: in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you like)

anyways writers block is no longer kicking my ass so multiple wips!

nat something italian scatorccio character study whooo

The fucked up part of her sort of craved the way Travis believed in her then. Past a certain point the only good thing she had was a pair of eyes looking at her with love. If sometimes those eyes looked more like Lottie's rather than Travis's because he could never fucking figure out who he was or what he wanted, well, it didn't have to matter to Nat.

a chapter from a larger project feat. little sophomore jackie's first gay internal crisis

Jackie focuses on where streetlight orange meets blue night and on the warmth of the pavement seeping in through her shoes. She doesn't know where she's going until she remembers there has only ever really ever been one place she wants to be.

[REDACTED] au that might become something bigger at some point but for now is a oneshot i have planned involving none other than nancy wheeler and some haunting

"Nance, you're going to do it again." Nancy promptly rushes into an alley to catch her breath because fuck, it sounded so much like her and will this ever stop hurting?

not tagging by word count because i sort of bent the rules here already whoops

no pressure: @the-lonelyshepherd @ronanceautistic @staghunters and anyone else interested!

[logicroute]

hi so im normal abt shin tsukimi being nonbinary. most of this is just hcs but this is real to me. read it undercut :3 i also touched on my hispanic shin and him being gay aroacespec by accident. whoops

to me at least. shin hasn’t really ever cared abt his gender that much, it was never really a big part of his life growing up so he never put thought into it or really had a meaning for it in his mind.

he is still transgender to me, he started exploring himself at around.. 14? i would say, it wasn’t anything much, just dressing more GNC, having fun with combining both styles of masculine and feminine clothing and all of that. in a way wanting to seem confusing but not at the same time.

he likes exploring and experimenting with how gender feels for him while hes older, but ya know how it is. it just, doesnt really seem right to pick a side with something you dont really understand yourself.

so thats where the quoigender comes in. its also called WTFgender which i find amazing. quoigender pretty much means that you cant really put a definition on your gender. so i think over time shin starts like. feeling more connected to that term for himself..!!

to me he uses any prns and any terms because of his like.. somewhat lack of care on how people assign a gender to him in a way when he meets new people, like the way that people think of him hasnt reallu been a big thought to him. until the death game which he puts up the front of  someone that is threating to survive but he still doesnt really care abt prns in the death game. a really funny idea is that everyone just uses a completely different set of pronouns for him and everyone just understands that its abt shin cuz of the tone in the voice.

theres also the whole… not really having an idea who you are with the hiyori persona in the death game but whooo cares abt that rn. something something gender playing into how he copied how he remembered hiyori acting like.. so acting more dramatic and the works.. 

and i also hc him as hispanic which.. can also play into his gender in a way. to me his mom is hispanic for context. she herself never liked the idea of gender roles but she never gotten a chance to break out of them..until she moved to japan for school, met shins dad and all of that. so when she had shin she wanted to make sure that nothing was being overly expected from him that fits into any of the norms.. she is also somewhat breaking without knowing but its whimsical for her. i need to talk abt the tsukimis more they mean so much to me.

not to get too ibto his sexuality in the gender rant but. i thibk he knew he was gay for a while, hes alaways liked boys for his whole life pretty much, he hasnt felt attraction to girls at all besides like.. the planotic “ohh ur pretty:)” thing you know. but then also the aroace spectrum kicks in. 

at least to me. shin hasnt really felt romantic feelings for anyone reallly. like he couldnt really place how he feels for ppl on a romantic scale if rhay makes sense, but like he has felt them in rare occasions, but nothing really happens lmao. so the plain term of arospec usually works.

im aceflux shin number one believer. its just really dear to me for some reason. it doesnt really breach out of the demisexual area that much but its okay he gets to have some fun with labels.

also no cisgender person only wears winter clothing all year long. he is most likely nonbinary but he has a minimum wage shift in the hour and is kinda doomed in a death game later so he cant care abt that atm. 

in short uhhh shin tsukimi any pronouns quoigender/nonbinary aroace spec gay real forever. 

[forkanna]

NOTE: Well, I can't even say what happened, other than that my mental state has been trash. Not that I'm unhappy; I just have little creative drive of late. Trying to get back to work, though, and hopefully someone will enjoy the update.

CHAPTER THREE

Around the time Veronica was exiting her luxury vehicle, Betty was climbing out of her clunky old Beetle. She loved that car - and it wasn't just because it was still her first car, or that it was sunshine yellow like her personality, or that she had forged so many good memories inside its cramped confines.

She was also proud of how she had managed to keep it running for the past year, almost entirely on her own. While Veronica and Reggie had the money to take their cars into the shop when any little thing went wrong, or just get a new one, Betty was distinctly under the cut-off line for Middle Class; her parents told her when they helped her get the car that she would have to be the one to find the money for any repairs, because they could barely maintain the upkeep on their own Studebaker. Therefore, she had no choice but to take her passing interest in how cars worked and make it a life skill. Riverdale High did offer an auto shop class, and that went a long way toward teaching her what she needed to know - and her dad had taught her enough of the rest that she could manage to figure out everything else. By now, she had done almost as much work on Archie's old Mustang as she had on her own mode of transport, and kept both of them purring like kittens.

Not that she wanted to make it into a profession. No, Betty's heart would always belong to the written word. Still, maybe when she finished college and started her life as an aspiring author, she could work as a mechanic on the side to help keep the lights on.

Betty was startled out of her thoughts by seeing Archie make a spectacular play, spiking the ball in the end zone and hooting and hollering with his teammates. It may have just been practice, but Betty smiled as she leaned her elbows against the railing on top of the chain link fence, watching him like a hawk as he celebrated. He was honestly her oldest and dearest friend, and when he was happy, she was happy. Part of her missed cheering him on in a more official capacity - but she was fine with the way things had turned out.

Then she heard some hooping and hollering from behind her, and I found herself completely distracted. It wasn't so much that someone else was cheering, but the loud, brash tone of the one doing the celebrating.

"WHOOO! GO, ANDY!"

Cheryl.

Looking between Archie out on the field and the stands, she could see both of the redheads had eyes for no one but each other. Archie looked like such an All-American Boy Scout in his football uniform, grass stains covering the front of the jersey and sweat running down his temples, beaming up at her as if she were the light of his life. And Cheryl's little green dress left nothing to the imagination, hugging her voluptuous curves as she whooped and bounced up and down - and Betty found she had to turn away for a second.

Which only frustrated her further. She knew her parents had raised her conservatively, and some of her friends had always teased her a little about that. But was she really such a shrinking violet that she couldn't even handle the sight of a pair of breasts jiggling without needing to blush?

"What's your problem, Townie?"

Betty was shocked to find Cheryl was standing right next to her. She yelped and tried to jump backward - except there was no backward to jump to. Instead, she just felt the back pockets of her jeans cutting into her behind due to pressing right up against the fence. She was trapped.

"Huh?"

"You're acting like I'm Medusa," Cheryl shot at her with a confident grin. "Can't look at me without turning to stone, hmm? Not that I blame you; I am pretty stunning."

Betty's mouth flapped for a few seconds. It was Cheryl laughing at her that made her clear her throat and find her voice again. "I'm fine. I just had something in my eye."

"Like my gorgeous features?" When Betty started to shake her head, she rolled her eyes. "Give it up, Daisy Mae. I saw you checking me out before that, and you couldn't stop almost-glancing at me afterward."

"Wh- excuse me? Wait, what do you mean, 'checking you out'? In what way?"

Rolling her emerald eyes, Cheryl snapped, "What, is this a put on? What other way is there to check somebody out? You're playing for the softball team."

Betty wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but she definitely didn't like the way the rich girl said that. "I… well, yeah, I am. I'm their best pitcher."

"Oh my God." 

"What?"

"Nevermind. Don't even worry about it; it's not like I care anyway." She reached out and patted Betty's cheek, and didn't even react when the blonde flinched. "You just keep being oblivious, sugar. It'll catch up to you someday. For now, why don't you try acting like less of a square around me? You'd be surprised what a difference it makes."

Betty scowled at the antiquated insult. "Square?!"

"And don't interfere with me watching Andy practice anymore," she commanded as she turned and walked back up the bleachers, hips swishing all the while. "That's our time, for just the two of us. Go play in a sandbox somewhere, Li'l Orphan Annie."

Every part of Betty's inner being seemed to shrink two sizes. What was she supposed to do? Cheryl had just cut her to ribbons and she hadn't been able to do anything about it; she couldn't even form one rebuttal. Every single one of her responses had been completely pathetic.

"Hey!" One of the cheerleaders called out to her as she stomped away. She actually had to run after her before she got too far away to catch. "Betty, wait!"

Betty swallowed hard and looked over the fence at her, then sighed, "Oh, hi, Midge. What's, uh, what's up?"

"I was watching that happen," the cheerleader continued a little breathlessly, running her fingers through her dark pixie cut. "What did you say to her?"

"Nothing! I just… um…" Betty hated that she was still blushing. She hated that even now that her reaction had been called out, there seemed to be nothing she could do to bring herself under control.

"Just what?" When she got no answer, Midge sighed and reached over the fence to rest her hand on Betty's shoulder. "Listen. I know we haven't talked much since you quit the squad, and I'm always going out with Moose. But you know I'm here for you, right?"

Betty felt helpless to do anything but glance back over at where Cheryl was still smirking at her, and where Nancy had broken off from the rest of the squad to start toward them. This whole thing was getting more and more conspicuous. So she finally just whispered, "Yeah, thanks," and ran off as quickly as she could.

  ~ o ~

  Problem was, Betty didn't know where else to turn. She would have considered speaking to either of her former Squad mates - except that Cheryl had been there. Once upon a time, she would have turned to Archie, but everything was so complicated with that now. Her parents were out - they would never understand this. And Veronica…

She didn't even want to think about Veronica. That pampered little princess never had a problem like this, she was reasonably certain.

"Uhhh… back so soon?"

Betty hurriedly wiped her eyes when she realized the journalism classroom wasn't empty. Tomoko had been hunched so low over her keyboard that she couldn't even see her over the back of her chair. "Oh, I… hey."

"Burning the midnight oil, as well? I can relate. This story about school lunches might seem like a puff piece, but I think I found an angle that can… can make it- Betty, are you all right?"

What else could she do but break down and tell her everything? She might not have been terribly close with Tomoko but she found that all of her defenses have been so depleted by now that she couldn't fight it anymore. All of the tears and all of the conflict within her heart just burst forth, and all she could do was try to control how fast and hard it erupted.

The thing that shocked her was when she heard herself say words she didn't even know had been inside her: "It's been this way for two years!"

"Two years?" Tomoko asked in mild surprise as she handed her another kleenex. By this point, they were seated on the little couch in the corner of the classroom, and Tomoko had been petting her back to help soothe her. "But I thought you didn't know Cheryl until she moved here."

"No, I… I just meant…" What did she mean? Betty blew her nose and wiped her eyes to give herself time to reflect. "I meant I've b-been noticing these feelings trying to show up that long. But it's never been, like… I don't know. Cheryl saying that made me think about it, and now I don't like what I'm thinking."

Her fellow reporter nodded a few times, rubbing her free hand up and down along her own thigh through her leggings. Just a nervous habit while considering her words. "Liz… do you feel up to a critical opinion? Or do you prefer support and for me to keep my opinions to myself?"

Still thrown off by being called "Liz", Betty blinked a few times before she said, "Um… I guess that depends. Opinions about me, or about Cheryl? Because I don't think I'm-"

"Message received," she cut her off immediately, closing her deep brown eyes for a moment as she took a breath, then opened them again as her hand came to a stop on Betty's shoulder. "Cheryl really messed with you. That much is clear, even without you telling me details. Why don't you tell me what really bothered you?"

"I… the whole thing, Tomoko. What do you mean? She was being so cruel!"

"Ehhh…" When Betty looked thunderstruck, she held up her other hand to forestall her. "Listen, she was clearly provoking you on purpose, but what did she really say that was so unkind? That you like women?"

"Well… yeah!"

"And that would be… bad?"

"Well, not… I didn't mean…" Betty frowned down at her lap. "I know it sounds bad, but I promise, I'm not like that. I just don't think I could be… like that . Y'know?"

"Actually, I do know. And I know that attitude is very common, and it can make admitting something like this to yourself very difficult."

"I don't have anything against people like that, I promise. But me? I like boys! I've never had any desire to… to try anything different, or be any different. I really haven't."

Tomoko was still watching her like a hawk, and Betty found herself wishing that she wouldn't. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Well, you told me you didn't want to hear my opinions about you, so I'll leave it at that."

"…You think I really could be like that. Don't you?" Tomoko shrugged, and Betty shivered all over. "Oh my God. Just because I looked at Cheryl's boobs for more than one second?"

"No, because you had to look away. And because you can't even say the word , Liz - you keep saying ‘like that’. There's a lot of fear lurking there. Why would you be afraid if there was nothing to be afraid of?" She shrugged and withdrew, folding her hands neatly in her lap. "Not that you really need to be scared of this, since it's not something negative… but I get it. It's scary to be different, to have to accept that you aren't just a blonde, blue-eyed girl next door. Which you might be. But if you weren't, you would have to challenge a lot of your perceptions. Anyone would be at least a little bit nervous."

This was overwhelming for poor Elizabeth Cooper. She could feel herself breathing faster, more shallow, panic trying to settle into the middle of her chest. Tomoko reached out as if she were about to comfort her - but she shot to her feet, out of her friend's reach.

"I, uh… I just remembered, I need to get home. It will be dinner soon." She swallowed to coat her dry throat before she said, "It's been… interesting, I guess? I don't know. See you."

"Liz…" But Tomoko seemed to rethink what she had been about to say and simply said, "Okay. Just try not to be too hard on yourself. See you later."

"Yeah."

Only once she had achieved the safety of her little yellow Beetle did Betty break down again. She knew someone might see her crying but it was really the best she could do; she just kept it short before she started the engine and drove off, fighting to keep her brain from thinking too much. Right now, her thoughts were the enemy, and she didn't want to imagine what would happen if she lost this battle.

[bwobgames]

12 Detective Beebo Fun facts

there´s probably more but here's some

1.

When Beebo goes to open the doorknob, you can see his reflection 5 times. That's the amount of loops he will go through.

2. Also, those particular pictures were drawn in 2019. Including others that were not shown

Like this design of 2019 Beebo

3.

The reason i never made another pixelated room is because I drew the furniture using a weird perspective, so I needed guiding lines, and it was a complete drag to do, so I never did it again. Probably won't do it for the game either, too tedious.

4.

This one drawing of the first loop has Ángel separated from Vivi and Beebo through the framing of the window. Foreshadowing whooo

5.

The original sprites used to be longer.

You can also see 2 other characters that were taken out, the doctor girl and the jacket guy. The jacket guy became a modified version of Coli, and the doctor girl just disappeared for the sin of being a borderline self insert. Lmao.

Also! Ángel was gonna have light grey hair, but after actually drawing it I didn't like it so it went to dark gray

Here's the tinified sprites

6.

Heres some planning for the looks of the game from 2019. I like it honestly, its 2.5d, looks like a pop-up book. It just needs some work with the perspective.

7. The original design for beebo (silly triangle hat guy) was supposed to be a comedy character for a nonsensical game like jazzpunk. I even made a very bad 3d model for it.

That is also where "he has anime eyes" came from

I used to draw him all over my school notebooks just being silly, like going down the stairs head first.

8. There were many ideas on how things were gonna go. From vampires to weird magic systems to sci-fi. The thing that was gonna stay was the tíme loop, was would vary was the reason

9.

A lot of the time, Beebo talks about his fear of big houses and feelings of being trapped. I'm actually surprised that aspect got so unnoticed in theory crafting

10. Nina's dress changes color in every post, thats because I never saved it, and just guessed it everytime I colored it.

Speaking of colors, Most of the colors used in this comic are from the same palette as Character Pattern, another one of my games.

Also speaking of colors, I planned all characters to have a very minimalistic color palette for the monochrome sprite work, this caused me to mistake Vivis dress as red and her jacket as white, when originally her dress was black and her jacket was red. whoops.

11. The constant references to the cold are not just for the fact that its, indeed, cold. Its also beacuse most of the time everyone dies with heavy blood loss, which makes someone feel very cold

12. The pictures for the spooky Haunted house explanation look pretty normal without the heavy editing

They required a lot of shadows to make it less incredibly bright

except for this one

this one just looked like that. spooky.

I also had a cool picture of a shadow (me) in the mirror of a dark bathroom, sadly it wasnt dark enough because you could very clearly see the toilet paper. It got erased.

[giggly-squiggily]

Amazing, Showstopping, Glamorous Blue Lock Headcanons That Are Definitely True Ego Told Me So #2

Whoops I tripped and fell into the Blue Lock Dub we're back at it again WHOOO!

Now with shippy bits because I can :P

Rin likes to say words of gratitude in English to his teammates because none of them speak/understand him. He'll say something like: "I appreciate you. Thank you for making my time here at Blue Lock that much more fulfilling." And Isagi will just be all: "What? Whatcha say?" He always bullshits them after though. "I said you suck." "OI-"

Nagi and Chigiri like to quote dumb memes/vines/tiktoks at the most inconvenient times. They mainly does it to annoy Barou; It drives the resident King up a wall when it's 2 am and all he hears is: "FrEsh LeMonAID, FrEShly Squeezed~" There had to be a "No memes" ban placed after Barou threatened to strangle Chigiri with his hairdryer and shove Nagi's phone up his-

Gagamaru and Raichi have an ongoing slap war. Whenever one passes the other they make it a point to cuff the back of that person's head and RUN. Currently Gagamaru's got the lead by height alone, but Raichi gets creative in his return smacks. Junichi doesn't participate; he's witnessed one too many beds breaking when Raichi's retreat plan flopped and Gagamaru attacked back.

Reo's entire playlist post Nagi's betrayal consisted of "Kill Bill" by SZA on repeat. One time Chigiri and Kunigami heard Reo crooning in the shower "I might kill my Nagi~ Where to hide the body?~"

Sae likes massages but refuses having his feet touched. A lot of people assume it's because he has a superstition about "Massaging them removes the luck within" (Shidou's BS), but really he's just stupidly ticklish there that even the attempt to grab them will make him giggle like a child. (And yes- Shidou knows abou this. Yes- he has walked out of a tickle fight with a broken nose because of it.)

Aryu despises spicy food. He can't take the heat and it makes him all sweaty. "So not glam" he whined after accidentally ordering too hot a bowl of ramen. He also hates milk- so it's a constant cycle of eating the spicy ramen as not to waste it, and then chugging milk to ease the burn, and then eating more spicy ramen to get the taste of milk out of his mouth, etc. etc.

Isagi was over the moon when he found out Chigiri's favorite song was "Blue Bird" by Ikimono Gakari. Then he felt beyond betrayed when said redhead told him he'd never seen an episode of Naruto in his life and heard the song on his sister's playlist one day; hence why he likes it.

Bachira cannot take compliments. He get's all flustered and shy when even the smallest praise is passed his way. "Bachira, you did amazing last game!" Cue our monster dribbler covering his face and waving off the kind words with a "Staaaaaap~" Isagi finds it absolutely adorable and constantly finds things to compliment him on just to make the usually whimsical player stammer and blush.

Isagi is the only person who's effectively made Rin laugh. It wasn't a big one; just a small puff after Isagi made an off-hand remark about Ego giving "Big cheese stick energy" Isagi holds onto that memory like a trophy, forever proud that he was the first to make Rin smile before the younger boy looked away and refused to meet his gaze.

Kunigami does the thing where he'll go: "Chigiri, look at me?" And when said redhead does, he'll gently take his chin and kiss him. It never fails to fluster his boyfriend, even when he's prepared for it.

Niko once wore his bangs pushed back from his face. Everyone lost their shit because they'd never seen his eyes before and thought he was another person. (Also might have made some people heart-squeeze because he's adorable??? Have you seen his eyes- they're so big and green HELLO???)

Barou knows the Nyan Nyan Dance from Macross Frontier, along with various other anime dances. His two younger sisters are obsessed with them and begged him to teach them any new ones they discover. He absolutely refuses to share this knowledge with anyone and if someone were to suspect it; he'd threaten to kill them.

Rin openly despises Danganronpa because everyone keeps saying he's the "Blue Lock Shuichi Saihara"; but secretly he's thrilled at the comparison because he rather enjoyed Danganronpa. (Maki was his favorite). If asked though he'll say it's dumb.

Tokimitsu gives fabulous hugs- you just have to occasionally reassure him he's doing fine else he panics thinking he's hugging too tight or too loose. He doesn't really talk much, but the gesture says everything in itself.

[mad4turtles]

Okay, okay, I had to calm down after reading that last request you answered cause WHOOO- 😅

But for another idea, how about one with Casey ii and Leo? We didn't get too much of them interacting other than a tense moment or when a argument takes place and since you did marvelously with the other brothers.....

I cant think of a scenario for them but I know to definitely not doubt that magic writing you currently pocess ✨️

First of all, flattery will get you EVERYWHERE with me XD

Second of all, I'm sorry this took so long, but I really enjoyed the challenge! Here ya go!

---

It's April's idea to drive the whole clan up to her old family home in Southampton for the summer. The turtles were beside themselves with excitement, and with no leg to stand on, Splinter had agreed.

Plans were made, an ex-warring warrior scientist was kidnapped, a caravan was 'acquired' (and modified by their resident genius to fit Raph and Draxum), and they were off. Crammed in what had become a tiny house on wheels, drivers switched between pit stops. All nine of them.

Casey remembers hearing of April's old farmhouse in the rare moments of quiet in the main base. She'd sit down with him after a nightmare or a failed mission—there was plenty of both—and talk about the early days before the war, before the Krang, before mutants or Yokai had been more than a myth or a story in what she called a 'comic book.' She'd get a look on her face, worn with wrinkles and hardened by years of conflict that was softened by the stories of her early youth. Of her parents and the time they had before work took over. Streams and forests unspoiled by pollution (or blood or Krang fluids), singing birds, blue skies and trees that changed with the seasons. It sounded like a dream, a fantasy, and he'd said so aloud.

Commander O'Neil had smirked, a sad thing she rarely allowed, and threw an arm around his shoulders to bring him close. “One day, baby,” she'd said, kissing his cheek, “it won't be.”

As they pull up in the dirt driveway, Casey wishes she was here now to rub it in his face how she was right.

(Technically, she is here, whooping and hollering with the rest of the family as they pile out of the van with their luggage in tow. But it's not her at the same time, and now it never will be. 

He ignores the pang in his chest.)

The farmland itself is beautiful. Wide, spacious, green and free of prying eyes that would have the mutants and Yokai in hiding. The air and the skies are clear, the sun beaming down on them in glares of warm, unspoiled midday gold. He can hear the stream nearby over birdsong and Mikey's laughter as he and Donnie persuade Raph to spin them dizzy on the tire swing they discovered hanging on the branch of a sturdy tree.

Casey drops his bag on the grass. He shuts his eyes, breathes in deep and sighs.

He loves it.

(It terrifies him.)

Once they're settled in their rooms, April gathers everyone in the front yard to pick berries in the brush so Mikey can make pies for dessert tonight. Casey and Leo make up one team, leaving Mikey with a mildly reluctant Draxum as he tugs their stepfather by the hand. April steers Donnie away from poisonous berries, and Raph wrangles a dangerously competitive Cassandra—

“Come, Raphael! We shall acquire the ULTIMATE AMOUNT OF BERRIES! We will be the reigning champions of Berry Pickers in the history of the Hamato Clan!” 

“Cass, yer gonna rip off my arm!”

Splinter hurries to supervise and ensure the safety of the forest under Cassandra's... eagerness.

“God,” Leo says with feeling, watching them go. “I'm still not over her being your mom.”

Casey gulps. “How do you think I feel?”

Berry picking goes about as well as Casey expects. He and Leo fill their baskets, casual conversation flowing naturally—about Casey's online classes, adjusting to big city life, his new favourite food joints with the greasiest hot dogs known to man that he adores—and it's fun. Foraging for food isn't new to him, but the berries look delicious, far more than rats or leaves that reeked of rot and mould. Plus, the routine is comforting. A good distraction from—

From what? How good things are? How much fun you're having while everyone from your timeline is dead?

If Leo notices anything off once they rejoin the others, he says nothing. He gives Casey a searching look, but it's gone after the boy smiles and urges him along, losing themselves amid Cass and Raph's victory screeching, having 'bested' Donnie's team in berry picking with their baskets overflowing. Donnie quietly seethes.

Dinner is more the same—loud, chaotic, messy and everything that comes with the Hamato family. Casey remembers moments like this when he was small; back when the Resistance was stronger, more than just the fractions of the family left in the aftermath of hell unleashed. Master Michelangelo would gather them once a week for a meal between raids, missions and rescues, sit them down in a quiet corner of the base and just—be together.

In those small moments, Casey saw a glimpse of who the Hamato's used to be. Seeing them now, whole and everything they are, and will be, as this timeline thrives, Casey's chest aches with a whirlwind of emotions he can't pin down long enough to name.

That's not true. One is grief. 

He excuses himself after several helpings of Mikey and April's delicious pies, shutting himself in the room he's sharing with Raph and Leo. He flops onto his sleeping bag and stares at the ceiling fan. The sunset filters through the window in shades of vibrant red and gold, bathing the room in its warmth and Casey with it.

He's too angry to enjoy it, and that only pisses him off more.

Damn it, why can't he stop thinking? His future (past? Present? Freaking time travel) is gone. The Krang are gone, defeated, and the Key is safely hidden. Everything Casey had feared and despised is gone, replaced with the warmth, love and care of everyone he knew and everyone he never had the chance to meet. He has a family, a life, a second chance.

But he had a family before, too.

The future he came from may not exist now, but the people he'd known since birth were real. His memories, the scars from training accidents, missions and close calls, are real. His Master's dying words were real. 

And he misses them.

He adores his new family, these mismatched outsiders who have given him everything he never had and more. But he misses Master Michelangelo and Commander O'Neil. He misses the mother he barely knew but loved anyway. He misses—

“When you're done saving the world, do me a favour... grab a slice!”

He misses his dad.

The door creaks on rusty hinges as it swings open, Leo strutting inside like he owns the place (technically, he does, but only for a few weeks, and he has to share). Casey startles, wiping tears off his cheeks with a half-baked excuse on his lips as to why he's crying on the floor, but Leo doesn't give him a chance. The slider is on the floor with him, pulling Casey into a hug. One arm curls around his shoulders, the other cradling the back of his head and pushing his face into Leo's solid plastron. Casey lets him, confused, blinking hard—

“Breathe, Casey,” Leo says. “It's okay. You're okay.”

That's when Casey realizes he's hyperventilating. Crying and hyperventilating. Leo must have heard and come running.

Great.

But he breathes in time with Leo, the turtle's heartbeat strong and steady under his ear, and it helps. 

Just like always.

Because Sensei used to hold me just like this when I was little.

The floodgates burst, and Casey's sobbing in Leo's chest, clutching him for all he's worth, weeks and months and years of grief, fear, loss and guilt pouring out in heaving cries. 

Leo doesn't say a word. All he does is hold him tighter, both curled up on the withered floorboards of an old family home Casey had dreamed of seeing with the aunt who'd spun its tales, with the father and teacher he'd adored, now years younger. History repeats itself in the strangest ways.

(It's as he's calming down, feeling Leo's fingers card through his hair, that he realizes he's seen Leo do this with Mikey not long after the invasion when they were all still healing. He'd done it with all his brothers, with April, and he'd seen Splinter do it in the rare moments of vulnerability that Leo lets himself have.

It's a family thing, familiar and loving in every way Casey remembers. It's different. But it's not bad, doesn't invoke the same guilt that's been following Casey like a shadow since the night he arrived in this timeline.

They're still family. Casey's family.

This Leo isn't his sensei, his father, and he never will be. He's gone forever. But Casey has gained a brother in his younger self—four amazing big and little brothers, a sister in April, fathers in Splinter and Draxum, and... well, they'll talk about Cassandra.

It's a strange feeling. But a good one. A really good one.)

Even once he's cried himself out, Leo doesn't let go until after he uses his mask tails to dry Casey's cheeks—which nearly sets him off again, but now he's too tired to cry. Then they sit up, and Leo smiles at him. 

“I may not get what you're going through,” he says, bracing a hand on Casey's shoulder, “but I know what it's like to feel like you've lost everything while trying to save it. And no matter how good things are here and now, what you lived through won't go away. The memories of the people you left behind will still hurt. And that's okay. As long as you remember that you did everything you could.”

He lifts a hand to cradle the back of Casey's head in his palm, smiling bright and wide. “You saved us. You saved me. And no matter what, you're not alone. You'll never be alone.”

Casey's chin wobbles with his grin. “Right. Anata wa hitori janai.”

Leo's eyes go wide with surprise. Then his smile, touched, awed and proud, returns. “... yeah. You're Hamato, alright,” he says, bringing their foreheads together. 

Casey shuts his eyes and smiles through the last few tears.

Then when they part, Leo is grinning. 

Uh oh.

“Hey,” he says, and Casey feels fear. “Y'know what's a surefire way to cheer yourself up after a moment of emotional vulnerability?”

Casey blinks. “... that's very specific, but, no, what?”

Leo jumps to his feet, hands on his hips. “Help me grab all the pillows from the bedrooms, Jr. We're gonna start something.”

~0o0~

When they return downstairs, precariously balancing the biggest, softest pillows Casey has ever seen or felt in his life, the others are gathered in the comfortably cramped living room. They're settled on the couch, both armchairs and the floor, watching a movie with a dinosaur chasing a jeep full of people. It looks interesting--even Draxum seems invested--but then Leo grabs one pillow and taps Raph on the shoulder. 

The snapper turns, smiling automatically at his little brother. “Hey, Leo—”

WHAP!

Leo slaps Raph full in the face with the pillow, Raph's head snapping to the side. All heads whirl to stare as feathers burst from the case and drift lazily down.

Raph blinks into space, stunned. Leo bites his lip hard against laughter.

On the floor, Mikey giggles madly. Donnie's face flattens as he stands and grabs a pillow from where Casey had dropped them. Draxum pinches his brow. Splinter hurries the cutlery and china back into the kitchen. April scrambles for her phone.

Then Raph shakes with a dangerous chuckle. “Ohohoho, little brother,” he says lowly as he stands. Leo's giggling hard now as Raph makes a show of cracking his neck and rolling his enormous shoulders. “You wanna be startin' somethin'?”

Casey grabs one pillow and throws it to Mikey's grabby hands, holding another up to his chest as a shield.

Raph grins sharply, yanking the pillow from Leo's laugh-weakened grip. “Cos you know,” he says idly, “if you're gonna start somethin'. I'm gonna finish it. How am I gonna finish it, Leo?”

Draxum accepts the pillow April throws at him and holds it over his head, hunching low on the couch with a groan.

“I dunno,” Leo giggles. It's infectious as Casey snorts behind his pillow. Cassandra is standing on the arm of the couch with two pillows at the ready, grinning like a shark.

“Ask me, Leo. Ask me how I'm gonna finish it.”

Leo doubles over with breathless laughter. “How—snrk!—h-how're you gonna finish it—?”

“LIKE A BOSS!”

Raph charges, Mikey hollers “Pillow fight!” at the top of his lungs, and all hell breaks loose. Pillowy, feathery hell.

And Leo was right. It's freaking amazing.

It escalates until they're taking the fight outside, the sun fully set behind the trees and the stars glittering in the night sky as their laughter and shrieks fill the air.

In the middle of the chaos, Casey is laughing. Tears prick his eyes again from the ache in his gut (and face from April's eager swings) rather than his chest, where a new (old) warmth sits comfortably.

He leaps from the trees to ambush Raph with a bellowing cry—

“GOONGALAAAA!”

—and Raph catches him against his plastron, falling back to the grass and laughing his heart out as Casey pummels him with his pillow. “Okay, okay, I'm dead, I'm dead, staph, mercy little brother—!”

“Turtle pile on Raph!” Leo shouts, and that's how Casey ends up crushed between four turtles, April, Splinter and Draxum when Mikey yanks him by the arm to land on top of Cass, who wheezes under his weight.

(Casey understands, now, why Commander April had loved this place.

The clean streams, flowers, untouched grass and acres of unspoiled land are beautiful, Casey's dreams made real. But it's laying in the grass, sweating in the muggy summer heat with dirt and feathers on his face and hair, crushed under his brothers and sister(s?) and wheezing through heaving laughter...

That's what made it magical to her. It's magical to Casey.

He loves it.)

He meets Leo's eye in the tangle of bodies, and the slider winks at him. His heart swelling fit to burst, Casey winks back and says, “thanks, brother.”

Leo stares at him.

You're not my Sensei, but that's okay. You don't have to be. You can be someone just as inspiring, just as amazing. 

His crooked smile wobbles slightly even as he shoves Casey in the shoulder. “Anytime, bro.”

And just like that, Casey finally feels at home.

I'm home.

---

(Please send more rottmnt requests, I love writing these dudes!

Also reblogs are very much appreciated <3)

[firesofdainix]

October 22: Masters | "I wish you never told me about the prophecy."

When it’s MY prompt!!! WHOOO!!! (so is Day 20 but THIS is the one I’ve been waiting for). I’ve literally written half of this before this gets posted, and let me just say... I’m practically VIBRATING in my seat rn.

@morrotober

AO3 Version

*

An excerpt of my S5 rewrite in which Morro talks Wu into joining his expedition to destroy destiny instead of becoming the Green Ninja.

*

The Bounty was oddly silent without his ninjas' presence— whether it be loud whooping from each of them in the living room as they watch a game, or bickering about serious matters, it was always filled with life.

The ship rocks slowly as it passes through the ethereal blanket of the night, nearing a rather stormy region in the continent. There were the sounds of rickety old wood, the fire of the rocket boosters burning, and shuffling furniture as the Bounty swerves from left to right. But, it lacks the invigoration of the marks that the ninja have; Kai's fiery protection, Jay's electric energy, Nya's fluid hobbies, Zane's ice-cold calculative nature, Cole's sturdy dependency, and Lloyd's lively disposition. They were not here marking the Bounty in ways where they have made it clear this is now their home, but rather, leaving it cold to the touch.

Wu wanted to come with them— the ghosts have his own nephew, after all. Say what you will about Wu, but by his own father he wanted to be with his family to save Lloyd Garmadon.

You let Lloyd slip through your fingers once more, the teasing lilt of Garmadon's voice becomes angry, ravenous even. If he was still alive right now, he would have prevented this. What kind of sensei does that?

Wu cannot apologize. He has nothing to say sorry for.

Want to know why he stayed behind?

Because he knows his ninja could do it alone.

He's seen their determined gazes as they look at one another, devoted to saving Lloyd and stopping Morro's plan.

"Master Wu, you should stay and watch the Bounty," Nya tells him, donning her ninja gi as the others prepare. "They might target our own home."

He feebly tells yes because… who is he to deny their whims?

Once the door closes, and he has no staff to lean on as his aging body has to remain old, a shadow passes over his face.

A shadow of regret and anger.

Anger for himself, of course.

Because he has assigned the ninja to clean up the mess he’s inexplicably made.

Was he ever a good teacher to them?

Yes, the sound of a voice that is currently swimming around him tells him, but he doesn’t believe it one bit.

NO! A voice reminiscent of a howling wind threatens his ears, a ringing sound of a child crying following soon after.

He believes that voice over the former.

As the Bounty calmly rocks at a slow, sedated pace, thunder rumbling outside, Wu walks down the familiarized hallways, having to use the wooden walls as a pillar to substitute his missing staff, stolen by the boy who had it all, before the weapons took it all away like a tornado.

He still could not believe it— after years of searching for the clue to his father’s tomb, it had been right under his hands, and he just had not suspected, even when his own father sat him down on the porch of their monastery, handing him his beloved and prized staff, before bidding farewell and walking down the steps as Wu watches on with confusion and stupefaction.

(Perhaps he had not listened. Perhaps he just didn’t want to listen.)

A strong wind blows against the ship, and he staggers backward as the ship struggles against this torrential wind. His mind ponders if it was Morro, summoning the winds to torment him over his regrets and decisions, but he shakes his head. While Morro and Wu are currently at odds now, he is not quite focused on defeating him— rather, he was focused on outdoing Lloyd, taking the title of the Green Ninja.

Admittedly, he is thankful that Nya had pressed the autopilot button before she left; he doesn’t know the intricacies of working on a ship such as this.

Hobbling to the outside of the Bounty, his hat almost flies over his head once he fully walks outside, the winds a ghastly beast. He catches it in a reflexive manner, setting it on his head hard.

He stares at the wind with a slightly puzzled expression.

The wind is quite wild tonight. Ninjago City did not broadcast monsoons coming so soon; it was still in the middle of the dry season, after all.

The ship enters a rather cloudy and foggy section of the sky, the ground and the moon being covered by the deep blue-gray of the puffy clouds, perspiration flowing around him. Cold vapor touches his skin, like a cold child’s hand touching his warm face all those years ago.

How time flows past him, he cannot comprehend either.

Wu inclines his head upwards, somewhat disappointed that the clouds have blocked his view of the moon. One of his favorite things to do when he was alone was brew some calming tea, settle himself on the ship’s deck, and stare at the moonlight with a content expression.

Just like old times.

“Wow Master Wu! The night looks so pretty up in the mountains.”

Wu grits his teeth.

Just like old times.

Somehow, for some reason, the wind grows stronger than before, to the point he has to hone in his training to cling onto the ship before he is blown away.

“The wind is angry today,” he muses to himself, feeling slightly worried. “It is as if…”

Clouds start to gather in front of the hull.

Wu stares at it with wary eyes.

A green glow starts to emanate from it.

Wu gulps, his throat coarse; had a ghost followed him?

The cloud starts to settle on the main form, as it continues to move at an inhumane pace, floating over the ship’s hull as the color green starts to glow brighter contrasting the darkness surrounding them. Wu transitions into a fighting stance, narrowing his gaze as the cloud continues to shift back and forth, before the tails of a scarf emerge from the tails of the clouds first, bending over the hull whilst the winds blow wider, definitely trying to veer the ship off-course, now that Wu is completely deducing the situation.

And, seeing how only one Elemental Master of Wind exists at this point in time, and he has a certain fixation on scarves, Wu knows his guest by now.

It still does not make his heart settle down, however.

Because now, he is being confronted by Morro, alone and without any interference.

The wind starts to tame itself as if it has been pacified by the arrival of its master. Or rather, Morro just wants the dramatic flair every villain must have when they reveal themselves.

While he feels something akin to a dreadful excitement in his heart, his calloused and bony hands hold him together, regret pooling as Morro’s own form continues to be built up by the clouds, soft and hard edges uniting as one.

Then, green-gold eyes stare at him through the dark.

The cloud dissipates, and the ghost of his first student appears in front of him.

“Morro,” he says, brazen and brusque. First student or not, he is actively attacking both him and his students. He lets out a deep breath, “My ninja are seeking your headquarters. Should you be there to stop them rather than waste your time on me?”

Morro raises a hand; shaped like a claw, fingernails sharp enough to distract him. He has an idle expression on his face, but Wu knows it was simply fake. Morro has never been an idle boy. "Why can't we not talk to each other anymore?"

"Because," then Wu becomes speechless as he tries to remember what he has to say without sounding as if he was objecting, "You are now against us, are you not?"

Morro hums, like a whisper against a loud crack of thunder. He turns to face him once more, a sneer on his lips. “Perhaps I am. But I know you hesitate to fight me, your first student.” He leans closer, but they are still far apart, something sincere passing over his gaze before it flickers away. “Your son.”

Wu’s eyes grow wide. Morro’s lips curl into a smile.

His thoughts betray him; Morro has indirectly called him his father. He has recognized that, in the short time they’ve been together, they have envisioned each other as father and son.

Huh, this feels familiar; a father on one side, and a son on the other.

Green eyes stare towards the wasteland in which the red ones reside.

Ah, now he knows why.

“... Son?” He repeats, walking further into Morro’s trap. He knows it’s a trap. And yet, he doesn’t step backwards.

“I denied you the courteousness that you deserved to be given, master.” Morro turns to the side, as if he was hiding the laugh that threatens to fall from his mouth. “You are my father; not the bastard that smokes and hits me with a tray over my head.” Bitterness explodes from his speech. Wu was merely hypnotized with the way he has called him his father.

But, while he could feel the joy that is being called a father by the only student whom he had failed (You do not deserve being called a father, Garmadon’s spiteful voice returns with a vengeance), he immediately remembers what has transpired over the past few days.

His mind was at a large impasse.

Must he always choose?

If he chooses nurturing and to aid the ninja, casting Morro out of the newfound circle he has found himself in, Morro will fall, deep, deeper down to the abyss in which he has perished. (Was it now too late to save him?)

If he chooses Morro… What of the others?

Why must Destiny make him choose? Why could he not forge his own path? Why must he let one suffer so the others shall thrive?

“You cannot save me any longer, father,” Morro says, resentful. A tragedy embedded into the stone. “I have chosen to side with the people who are willing to let me obtain what I want.”

"I know you want to join me, deep down," Morro's voice was deep, a reverberating sound of his suffering because of the worst mistake Wu has possibly made that affected his own loved one, and his thinly disguised anger and resentment, stored in the years he's been out of Wu's life, a killer, a villain in the making.

A villain which Wu had created, all because he thought he was the hero that would save them all.

Did you want to kill me, brother? Is that it? Garmadon's voice, always harsh but blunt, comes back to haunt him on the fateful night in which Misako had an epiphany to get her and the object they were arguing over out of that accursed monastery, disappearing like the stars that had once lit Wu's life with happiness and content.

He didn't think that, in the very end, Wu will pay the price for the mistakes he'd caused.

Telling too much to a starry-eyed, ambitious child who wanted to seek validation from his own master. His words filled with the glory and excitement he's had over finding the one in the guide of the prodigious child that has too much, so much talent.

(And, in the very end, it wasn't him, and those eyes that shine like the sun give way to the dreading feeling of fucking up someone who has so much to live for.)

He already knows what he is after— the Realm Crystal, a priceless artifact coveted by many ambitious individuals; they kill themselves to find the Tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master to purloin it.

And, once again, it is his own father’s fault that the world has come to such a conclusion.

Blaming someone else for your own wrongdoings is the most immature thing you have done, Garmadon's soft voice, never having left him alone, says, as if floating above his head in a wisp of eternity. You should know better. You should be better.

Indeed he must be.

But he seems to never have gotten better.

Now, he is faced with one of his worst mistakes and biggest regrets in his life: the ghost of his first student, tainted by the influences of the Preeminent that rendered him into… what he is now. It takes Wu a long while to adjust, having to look at Morro through a lens where he was now the villain after years of viewing him as the child he had lost both to destiny's whims and his own foolishness. Yet, no matter how much their fates are tied together, they will always be at different sides fighting for a different cause. He was perched on the Bounty's hull, as if he was a bird crying out a war that will befall on them all, his claw-like hands scratching his own ship with force (soft hands help him with chores, the embrace they have together). His scarf flows wildly in the wind; a wild element, unbound by both the master who it serves and the storms that it always accompanies, soaring through the skies as if it was some sort of hummingbird. (A wind that was once warm and filled with the sounds of passion, ambition, and pride, souring to become what it feels now: as cold as the storms that rack the entire world, anger, envy and resentment flowing like a whirlwind in the making.)

He was not the Morro he remembered.

And yet, in his heart, he knows it is the boy whom he had attempted to raise to become the savior of the world.

His idea of saving the world, however, was not in a way Wu had taught him.

"This is not who I wish for you to become, Morro," he continues to speak when he has no right to even converse with the young man whom he had failed. His voice was no match for the howling of the wind, beastly and ghastly, like the shrieking of a banshee. He did not know if his voice is carried by the wind towards its destination; now that its master is back, they are now inclined to follow his every order.

He hopes that the sadness dripping in his voice would carry well to him.

Morro sneers, poison and conflict evident in his expression. Even after all these years, he could still read him like a book. "You made me like this, Master. You told me that destiny has spoken the day the Golden Weapons refuse to react to my presence, how I was nothing more but the Elemental Master of Wind but the Green Ninja." His green eyes, filled with a chafing torrent of feelings, makes him pause. His scarves fly around the wind like claws racing to tear him apart. "But now, I realize it is not you, nor the pathetic son of Garmadon who denied me of my destiny." As if on cue, thunder rolls from the distance.

Wu remains standing against the impeccable storm, hoping to knock some sense into his first student. If he can do the same with his own younger pupils, what is the difference between them and a man he's wronged? His beard flies and his conical hat threatens to be blown away as the Bounty's autopilot hits a rather bumptious section of the skies. "Why have you returned then, Morro? If you no longer desire the title of the Green Ninja, what is your motivation?"

He smirks, his grip on the hull becoming loose as the wind attacks the wood of the Bounty, ripping apart its rough surface like paper. He stands in the midst of the ship, a shadow in the limelight cast in the night sky. He was thin like a twig, and yet, he was just as strong as his pupils, possessing a strength he had once seen in those who started training with their own elements early. His strength is, indubitably, one of the sole reasons Wu has deduced him to be the Green Ninja, only for that ever-living hope to be turned down. The green glow emanating from his skin differentiates him with the other darker surroundings, scarves tailing around him like snakes coiled and ready to attack.

"Destiny is a malady that must be destroyed," he replies in a settled, motivated manner. The wind then picks up thanks to the revelation of his motivation.

Wu frowns at this statement. He should not have expected any less of a person who was so adamant about refusing to listen to destiny. "And… how shall that be possible? Destiny is not a person or a place to destroy nor conquer.”

“Oh, but I know who are the harbingers of Destiny,” Morro replies dubiously, staring at the skies above, towards the clouds which the Bounty can never reach. “I am going to save them all. Saving them from having to become the pawns of destiny.” His eyes stare back at Wu. “A Green Ninja will save his people from the Dark Lord. Not… save them from D Rate villains that would return to bite them in the ass. A Green Ninja must solve the problem, nip it in the bud.”

“And you presume that Green Ninja to be you.”

“Precisely,” Morro sounds a little too proud about this.

“So, you are still attempting to prove Destiny wrong, that you are the destined Green savior.”

Something dark grows upon Morro's face. "I have no love for the title any longer. I have a new dream; a better dream than the measly prophecy you deceived me to believe was mine."

Wu winces. "I… you were a prodigy among prodigies. It is not an excuse, but it is an explanation as to why I chose you." He shakes his head. "I apologize for the consequences of letting you need a destiny that is not yours. It wasn't designated for you."

It was the wrong thing to say, towards a ghost who lost everything because he had wanted to appease that word.

"Was it all just a matter of destiny?" He repeats in a barely hushed tone, as gales of wind start to blow against the Bounty, almost haphazardly taking it out from the sky. Wu's entire body buckles, as he holds on to his staff to form some kind of boundary against the impending storm that Morro is currently creating himself. In front of him, his first student snarls with years' worth of anger, slowly storming over his already tumultuous face. Thunder passes the two of them, and Wu remembers what element lightning bows to. Morro takes a dangerous step forward. "Was it my destiny that I was not chosen to be the Green Ninja? Was it my destiny that I decided that to prove I am worthy, I must find the Tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master? Was it my destiny that I be sent to the Cursed Realm after I use my last breath to curse my existence? Was it my destiny I must become the villain in your story so that you and I must be on different sides?! So my torment is nothing but the Writers of Destiny deciding to give me unfortunate happenstances in my life?!" His voice rises every question, every crime against him, and the wind continues to howl, like a thousand souls screaming at Wu about his wrongdoings.

"I did not mean it that way," Wu replies, holding his conical hat down so that the wild winds wouldn't fly it away. "Destiny simply cannot be fought against."

"So you're going to stand idly as I suffer because of your foolishness?!" He asks, walking towards him with a sweeping speed. "How can you be my loving father but also be a braindead sensei?! You are so ridiculous."

Wu sighs. "Even when old age offers wisdom, I still seem to have an impulsive side."

Morro stares. "You have to be joking."

"Why would I be?"

Morro opens his mouth, and he shakes his head, feeling annoyance grip his soul. "You may be old and senile, but you never change." Then, feeling as if he's getting quite off-topic, he scowls. "You are distracting me from the greater good I must commit."

Wu meets his eyes. "People forget that sometimes, the greater good will only be good to them, and not to others."

"I won't care," Morro replies harshly, tone sharp as a knife. "They'll be thanking me once they realize I've destroyed destiny. You will show gratitude to me as well." Morro's eyes turn back toward Wu. "Join me, father. Perhaps my Mistress will spare you when you show your loyalty to us prematurely."

Wu frowns. "What makes you think I will join you?"

Morro scoffs, raising his arms as if the answer was obvious. "How many times has Destiny screwed you and your family over? The Great Devourer biting Garmadon, his slow descent to evil which led to you forcing your hand, and your own nephew having to bear the brunt of the heavy title? Don't you feel… angry towards destiny? At yourself for listening to an ungrateful concept?"

Wu doesn't speak for a while. Morro was, as much as Wu hates to admit it, sounds so convincing he can feel himself swaying without any complaint towards his wind. It was noisy and hushed at the same time, whispering deceitful, deceptive promises into Wu's ear. Perhaps Morro learnt from the Preeminent, like a siren in the water that sings dreams until you are tired of listening from afar. And, like the novice sailor warned of their lovely voice, he makes the mistake of listening, feeling his senses go numb as the dreams he has gotten rid of return to haunt him.

Him and Morro being together again was his prime dream.

And this was an opportunity he could not fathom and believe would come by.

He feels as if he is currently in the temptation, taking the apple from the snake.

But once again, his mind returns to the ninja he has the opportunity to teach.

Lloyd, Nya, Kai, Zane, Cole, Jay.

Something heavy settles in his heart.

Morro is his student as well, but…

He feels his heart puncturing into tiny pieces.

Again, he has a new family now.

He did not know when Morro grew so close towards him; his face was leaning forward now, expecting his answer, hoping that his answer were words of affirmation. There was that hope in his eyes again— the hope that crackled and burned when it was clear to everyone else that Morro was not the destined Green Ninja. Wu almost chokes at the sight of it; by his father, this ghost was a child. A child he condemned to a life of misery and doom!

Wu swallows.

He was no good at this.

He cannot choose someone without consequence.

Wu lets out a deep breath.

Morro raises a brow, his face expectant. “Well?”

The old man lets the wind whoosh around them. It was so noisy he could not even hear his own thoughts.

“I am sorry Morro,” Wu says, gravelly and broken. The wind suddenly stops turning against the Bounty, as if it was just as shocked as their master, who was currently staring at him with a shell-shocked face. Even his scarves, alive like serpents, lay still on his feet. Golden eyes meet his green-gold ones, currently experiencing a rough inflammation. “I cannot join you. My ninja— they need me. To fight against you. I, as their master, cannot give up on them; the way I gave up on you.”

Morro stares at Wu in horror, completely in shock as if these turn of events were unprecedented. Well, if his own son did not expect this… were they even able to reform the bonds that strained them to the point of no return.

The ghost recovers immediately, however, like a whiplash of wind bending back to a wilder, more lightning-forged shape. How invisible, yet how formless, the wind is. There was still hurt and sadness in his eyes however, as if he was hoping that in some form and way, the two of them would not have to fight on different sides, never tearing apart into tiny little pieces. But, Morro cannot be saved by talking, as he’s already declared which side he is going to have to fight with; Wu cannot teach those who would not listen, after all.

Morro’s corporeal form shifts, liquid and random; to a helpless, young child almost in the brink of starving to death, a young man in nomadic clothes searching for an answer to all his problems, another young man that looked happier and lively, and, lastly, back to his ghostly form, his humanity whittling away ever so slowly when Wu tries to look at him coherently. It was as if he is going through all of the appearances that can warrant pity and the memories seeping through the cracks. Wu sees him hunching over, his face obscured by his unruly hair as he starts to laugh. It was a haunting laugh, too beautiful for a man that has seen it all, too terrifying for a young man, a harrowing take of regret.

"You're throwing me away!" He says between laughs. "You're throwing me away like I was just garbage!"

Wu watches on as his regrets, already being piled up into a mountain, become even higher.

Morro stops laughing, and the wind, for the first time, stops speaking; falling silent as they bow to their master. There was a burning sense of betrayal and hatred in his eyes, his own form of cyclone forming in his expression, wild and abandoned.

He grits his teeth out, shaking with intensity as a bitterness like never before explodes within his surroundings.

"I wish you never told me about the prophecy."