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#but mascot suit make way more sense

bogleech · 9 months

Note

well, you made a fighting roster for one of your favorite things, bugs, so why not do your second favorite? HALLOWEEN.....but you don't have to if you want.

I actually did that of my own accord with concept sketches once but it was two years ago so a lot of people haven't seen it.

It started when I made up a Darkstalkers fan character; a "scream queen" (type of horror movie actress in the 50's) and Bug Eyed Monster duo, with some more move ideas:

But then I decided to just make a dozen monster fighter characters of my own like it was its own distinct game and not Darkstalkers:

Mermaid who was partially eaten by people who thought it would make them immortal, instead it killed them because she was poisonous but she doesn't know that so her ghost is stuck on a revenge killing spree that can never be satisfied

Cartoon werewolf in a zoot suit and punk rock vampire with boombox coffin, I didn't come up with storyline for them, I just needed a werewolf and a vampire

Frankenstein's daughter who put her brain into her own monster in order to defend humanity against her dad's creations and other supernatural threats, I decided on this partly because I'm not really into superheroes but they're one of the top most common Halloween costumes so I tried to make a Halloweeny one that I'd like

Nurse who accidentally transfused herself with cursed mummy blood. I made this one because there's a picture I drew when I was real little of a bleeding mummy with the words "MUMMY BLOOD" on it that child-me thought was the scariest picture ever, and also because I love the (mostly Japanese) trope of medical themed mummies. Also based on the fact that "sexy nurses" are a top selling Halloween costume and then that easily ties into a Silent Hill reference. This all felt creepypasta-like so she's also like a slendersman

Old fashioned Halloween mascot pumpkin man with a vegetable ghost gang, actually the ultimate villain of the setting and a monster that eats children

"Bogeyman" fighter inspired by edgy 90's comic books, a ragdoll scarecrow grim reaper clown. She's a manifestation of the fears of children, but in the sense that she exists to destroy whatever threatens them so her main goal is to kill all other monsters and especially the pumpkin guy

Entire zombie outbreak as one fighter, represented by a cute little fungus mascot, but every fighting move is performed by zombies coming and going from the ground

shapeshifting space alien disguised as a generic housewife, the human disguise would animate like a doll being played with by invisible hands

Ideas for extra-weird, secret unlockable fighters:

Photorealistic giant insect

Vincent Price parody and all his moves are obvious special effects performed by a film crew in the background the whole time

Mysterious entity in a "morph suit" because that's become such a staple of Halloween costumes. Changes into all manner of colors and printed textures for different moves or is the token "mimic" character.

Completely normal middle aged office worker who was on his way to work when he was accidentally caught in the monster brawl, battles on the power of pure blind panic. The tournament put his name down as "I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE"

#art

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k-looking-glass-house · 9 months

Text

Sam Fairy Gala~ Flower and moonlight

Gah I'm a bit shy to share my "crazy" lore" about twisted wonderland, but you already know that I love making outfits.... Kinda the reason my mascot/"oc" can sew and create outfit.... I also have an obsession with the NRC staff.....hnnnnnnnn *help them*

Anyway in my lore Sam was an NRC student for only his 3rd years (around 17/18 y.o), getting his mage certificate and taking shortly after the shop! He already has his familiar K and tried all sort of way to get very rare items during his scholarship!

Mister Crewel was the almost futur NRC alchemy teacher, he tried an only girls school before thinking it would be only cutie, soft stuff and talk.... While it was only cat fight to panthers/lioness fight and love letters, with some crybabies moments (that's what he said!). He returned to his former school making Trein already tired about the situation! He tried each time to put every puppies in good stylish outfit!

Mister Crewel took a soft spot about Sam (knowing since his teenage days about Sam's grandfather and the shop) and vice versa. They help each other to get items they want (actually they kept from spilling:blackmailing the fact that they both smoke behind Mystery S shop, catching the other by surprise from time to time)~ And so Mister Crewel helped Sam getting some fairy powder, while K would help with sewing the fairies's dresses and they would both promote his fashion collection during the next Fairy Gala~

In the end the fairy gala is a success, K is revealed to eat blot (canon to her disney counterpart), Mister Crewel has fairy blood and can't stand alcohol and Sam believe in fairy tale and has one of the pure heart a fairy could sense (the Fairy Queen said so).

You can see more of it ....somewhere on my tumblr ah ah

Sam (NRC student)~ SR Moonlight De Vil suit

Summon Line: "Even shadows appear under the moon light, gnee hihihi" Groooovy!!: ....Finally....FINALLY HA HA HA!! I got the fairy powder! Home: I am ready, so are my friends on the other side gnee hihi~ Home Idle 1: I must say that when Mister Crewel told me that he could help....I didn't believe it at first! Looks like everyone has their secret! Home Idle 2: Fairies are truly something, my sisters* were right about them, back in our childhood stories! Home Idle 3: This night is truly something, between Mister Crewel "STAY!" and K making him berseck....*sigh* I must stay strong and not get eaten by shadows~ Home Idle - Login: Glitters! Jewel! Silk!! IN STOCK NOW! That's what I would say if I was a seller! Home Idle - Groovy: Thank you Ko-yousei-chan! Yes I'll give you Mister Crewel personal jewel designer contact~ Gnee hihi! Home Tap 1: Mister Crewel is part of the De Vil fashion's house, that's truly something, no wonder he has such style! Home Tap 2: If you want to attract fairies, be kind, be nice, be polite and pour a lot of glittery things! ....Also being handsome help! Home Tap 3: I don't need a bell to talk to fairies, we learned it with grandma it's important to talk to any kind of friends gnee hihi!! How? It's a secret, I'm not going to tell you! Home Tap 4: Arwwghhrr K please stop eating the flower, we'll get scold again by "KURUELLA"! Also stop eating the remain blot TOO!! Home Tap 5: I'll be sure to make good use of that fairy powder! Home Tap - Groovy: Ha ha ha! Somehow it was a good night! We had a lot of fun! Right everyone?!

.....we don't even see the lotus pattern huh....

-Credit-

Sam fairy gala (young version) concept done by me

The lanther bell was ref from "Handbook of ornament; a grammar of art, industrial and architectural designing in all its branches, for practical as well as theoretical use" (1900)

#twisted wonderland #twst #sam twisted wonderland #twst sam #k imeart

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oftenwantedafton · 3 months

Text

Night Shift - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader + Mike Schmidt

Finale

Rating - Explicit

Minor violence, no warning for this chapter

Also available on AO3

You stare open mouthed at the empty steel cabinet before you. Whatever it was that had terrified William so badly is now free.

You gradually become aware of footsteps nearby: loud, metallic, something with tremendous weight making contact with the concrete flooring. You don’t want to know what’s making that sound; you have to see exactly what it is, for Mike’s sake.

It’s more difficult to navigate the maze of corridors without the older man’s guidance. You’re relying more on following the auditory trail of disturbing sounds than visual memory.

The noises are getting louder. You’re getting closer. You’re finally starting to recognize where you are now.

Something towers ahead of you. One of the animatronics? It certainly looks like it. The rabbit, maybe. Except it’s the wrong color. A sort of sickly yellow instead of blue. Part of one ear torn off. Dark openings where pieces of the mascot had been destroyed, exposing the innards that were never meant to be seen by human eyes.

You duck back around the corner before the suited figure sees you. It’s standing outside the security office, observing the interior of the room. Your heart is pounding so loudly it’s a wonder it can’t be heard. You risk another glance. Still standing there, watching. You think you see something silver glinting in one hand. Is it a knife?

The rabbit takes a step forward. You ease into the hallway. It doesn’t seem to notice you. It takes another step and you continue to creep forward, keeping yourself pressed against the wall, tucked into the shadows. The figure has to duck to enter the office and you take the opportunity to close the remaining distance in time to see it lunge towards Mike who’s fallen asleep, head pillowed on his arms.

One swift tug and he’s wide awake, pinned against the wall, the gray hooded sweatshirt beneath the security guard vest bunched in a steel encased hand, heels kicking futilely as he is raised to eye level with the seven foot tall mascot.

You had to help him, but how?

“Sleeping on the job? You really are useless, aren’t you?” The synthetic voice is vaguely masculine. The yellow rabbit pulls your friend away from the wall and then slams him back again, Mike wincing in pain when his head connects with the concrete. “What your ex girlfriend ever saw in you I’ll never know.” He relaxes his grip and the security guard drops to the floor, groaning.

You freeze. How did he know about you?

“How…how do you know…” Mike asks, echoing your thoughts.

“I know everything that happens here. I own this place, after all.”

“You’re the owner?”

“I am. I’ve heard a lot about you, Mike Schmidt.” The contempt is clear even through the modulated voice. “None of it good, I’m afraid. Your former girlfriend on the other hand, quite a different story. Did you know she came to the office right after you had your first little ménage a trois? Desperate for more.”

William had told the owner? After everything you’d done, and he’d promised not to, and…You feel a wave of nausea roll over you at the betrayal.

“Steve’s full of shit if he told you that. She never would have—”

“—But she did. Dressed up and everything. So upset when she got turned down. Then she made plans to meet at the movies. What? Did you think that was a coincidence?” The encased man chuckles as Mike stares at him, open mouthed. “It was all over for the two of you the second Steve Raglan walked into this room that night.”

There’s no way he could know about it unless William had told him. What other intimate details did he reveal? Why would he share that with the owner? It made no sense.

The rabbit’s lit eyes flick towards the Nebraska poster taped to the wall and he rips through it, the image of the forest shredding, the pieces cascading down in a gentle rain of fluttering paper. “Maybe I should have taken you instead of your brother that day at the park. Just put you out of your misery right then and there. You’ve made an absolute mess of your life. Can’t hold down a job. Can’t keep a girl. Your sister will probably thank me for this one day.”

“You…you took Garrett?” Mike gasps, his eyes anguished.

“I wouldn’t say take. He came along pretty willingly. They all did.” He shoves Mike when the fallen man tries to stand, the heavy costumed foot pushing him back down to the floor. “But if it’s any consolation, he died with more dignity than the others. At least he was quiet about it. Didn’t struggle. Just like going to sleep.” The butcher knife—that was exactly what it was, thick and long and viciously sharp—rolls in his palm, the steel encased fingers deftly moving the handle back and forth. Another chuckle emerges from the depths of the suit. He’s enjoying this. Toying with the fallen man. Gloating. Prolonging the moment and savoring it. How long had he been planning this? Why was tonight the one when he’d finally decided to confront him?

Mike struggles to rise again but the rabbit’s foot returns with a vengeance, this time kicking his chest, driving the air loose.

You wince, clamping a hand over your mouth to stifle any sound. There’s no way you were going to be able to confront this guy head on. The element of surprise was about all you had going for you. But what were you going to use as a weapon? What could possibly stand up to this suit, damaged as it was?

“Stop resisting, Mike. You’re fighting a losing battle. Take a page out of your brother’s book and bow out gracefully.”

“Why him? Why take him? He was innocent, he did nothing to you.”

“Of course he didn’t. I never said he did. I don’t need a reason. I’ve never needed a reason.”

No. No, no, no. It couldn’t be him inside of there.

You recall standing before William, the words mirrored.

Do I need a reason? Have I ever needed a reason?

There are things in my past.

You’re going to hate me one day.

Suffice to say I have my reasons to use an alias.

Now you know my best kept secret.

He never told the owner anything. He didn’t have to. He is the owner.

“William.” The name escapes before you can stop it as you enter the doorway.

The yellow rabbit’s head turns towards you sharply. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

You can hear it now, underneath the voice modulator: the cadence of his words, the inflections and nuances. It’s him. Your eyes dart to Mike who’s staring at you wide eyed.

“Why are you here?” The voice is no longer arrogant and cruel. It sounds weak, tired. Dissappointed.

“It’s Mike’s birthday. I was just bringing him…William….”

He reaches for the headpiece, fingers tucking beneath the jaw to lift it free. It falls to the floor with a loud clank.

“What the fuck…” Mike stares at the profile of the figure in front of him. “Raglan?”

William’s hair is plastered wetly to his forehead, the pale eyes that are fever bright softening when they see you. “Sweetheart…I didn’t want you involved in this.”

“William, please listen to me. You have to stop…”

Cold metal fingers dart out and swiftly seize your throat, shoving you back through the doorway and against the wall. He’s not squeezing, just holding you in place. “Oh, honey. I tried so hard to keep you away from this. I tried to give you what you needed. Tried to be what you wanted.”

Your fingers futilely prying at the steel hand trapping you grow still. Twin tracks of tears spill down your cheeks. “You did give me what I needed. You are what I want,” you whisper.

He groans and it’s an echo of the wounded sound he’d made that night when he’d come to pick you up when your car had broken down. Regret. Longing. A life full of so much destruction, a darkness he can’t seem to escape. His mouth crushes yours.

You know you’re supposed to be terrified of him. Repulsed by him. He’d killed Mike’s brother; killed others too from the sound of it.

Still your body melts against him. Moth to flame. You can’t help it. You cannot choose to only love part of him. The ugly darkness is not separate from the good you’ve seen in him. Brought out of him.

You hear the knife clatter to the floor.

You taste William Afton’s surrender.

#william afton x reader #william afton x you #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #william afton #fnaf movie #fnaf fanfic #mike schmidt

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fandomwritingbit · 5 months

Note

Could you do one with William afton's wife walks in on him putting the bead boy in the Freddy suit and he knows she would tell but he doesn't really want to kill her but she would try to take they're daughter away from him

Hiya, finally got around to doing this one lol. I broke two of my fingers at work so this was a mare to type lmao. Hope you enjoy!

Red-handed.

William x wife reader

Warnings: child murder, threat, violence, reader makes a bad decision.

Something felt off the second you entered the building. The air is heavy with knowledge you don't have a clue about, but it still chills you, making you pull your cardigan tighter around your shoulders. Your husband should be here somewhere, no doubt sorting something out that happened earlier in the day; he often made use of late hours for work, leaving you home alone and frankly bored. But tonight was different, call it a sixth sense, but sat at home watching it get later and later you just knew something was wrong. So here you are, looking for your partner and silently begging for him to be alright.

If something happened to him you don't know what you'd do.

This place is full of potential accidents, those mascot death traps being at the top of the list. Since you met William all those years ago, the thought of his creations being his downfall nestled in the back of your mind. You thank the stars every day that your children aren't as scared of the animatronics as you are.

Your footsteps are the only thing you can hear in the building, the usually lively corridors hushed with the silence of after hours. It's creepy as all Hell, but the knowledge of your husband being here somewhere was a great comfort. You try ringing him. Again. Your phone is ringing but his is deadly quiet. It must have run out of battery because you can't hear it in the building.

Eventually you've made your way to the back offices, calling for William as you peek in his office, then Henry's, both are empty. But a coat hook proves to you he's here, his jacket hung up on it from the end of the hallway looking almost like a figure standing there.

You're starting to feel a little bit pointless, looking from room to room, including the showroom for William, each coming to no avail. There's only one place you haven't been, and his words replay in your mind as you recall a previous conversation. "Don't come in here without me. It's not safe." You asked him why at the time and he frowned. "It's full of endoskeletons and unfinished characters." He answered bluntly, before adding, "Not to mention it's practically made of asbestos."

And you listened. Until now. It's a push come to shove situation, you have no choice but to look in there, though you still feel a tingle of guilt as you approach the door. The ‘parts and service’ sign amplifies your apprehension. Reaching out for the handle, you hesitate as your fingertips brush against it, thinking about how William was going to react when he found out you've gone in here. But you push through, the worry of his well being outweighing any doubt.

The very second you open the door you’re greeted with the overwhelming stench of iron, familiar enough to you that you gasp. Blood, undoubtedly, the metallic smell invading your mind and stimulating an animalistic impulse to bolt, to get as far away from this scene as possible. You carry on, entering the room but unable to see anything due to large shelves blocking your view.

“William?” You speak, hardly audible. “William?!” You manage more firmly this time. There’s no response, but a sudden metal clanking sound rang out, making you flinch. It's enough to see you turn the corner in a panic, spurred by fear that your husband could be hurt. When you do you freeze, as if life was taken from your body and you suddenly became inanimate. It is subconscious, forcing you to look at the gruesome scene in front of you. You would look away if you could, you don't want to see the blood on the floor leading up his leg, coating his hands and the small, unmoving body within them. It’s like your mind needs you to know exactly how real this is. And you resent it.

A hoarse breathy sound leaves you as your husband glares at you, a cruel expression warping his features that you’ve never seen before. You want to ask what happened, but you don’t need to. Your eyes flicking around the room reveals it all. A knife dripping with red, the child dead and suspended above the open mascot suit.

“W-what…?” You start shakily. William grunts with the effort of lifting the corpse, steadying the suit with one hand as the other slowly drops the child inside, letting you watch in horror as he lowers them until it’s secure enough for him to let go. You continue staring, no legitimate train of thought in your mind, before he sighs, finally turning his attention to you.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, the question sharp, tinted with accusation like you had done something equal to him just by being here.

“I-I came to ch-check on you. I thought something had hap- something has happened. What is this, William?” As your speaking the gravity of this catches up to you, your husband has hurt- killed this child. And there’s no remorse in his face, just a cold realism. In the pit of your stomach you know that this wasn’t an accident and it terrifies you.

An almost amused expression crosses his face as he scoffs, but it’s still mean. “What have you done?” You’re suddenly incensed, a rage like you’ve never felt coursing through your veins. “What have you done?” You ask again, scowling. You’ve known this man for what felt like your whole life and now you hate him, he fucking disgusts you.

“Easy.” He raises his hands like he’s trying to defend himself, trying to justify the unjustifiable. “We can-” He steps towards you slightly and you immediately recoil.

He stiffened, his expression completely changing, as the grave and serious feeling finally reached him. He looks at you with an unnameable emotion, “Don’t you fucking dare flinch away from me.” It’s said so harshly, so venomously that a pang of fear spreads through your chest. All of a sudden you’re aware of what William is capable of and whilst it still repels you, the violent reality chills your blood. You’re alone, with him. With that.

He watches the cogs turn in your head. He always knew you’d find out who he is eventually. It's inevitable, if not exactly like this then through a firm knock on the door concealing two uniformed officers. What’s the saying? ‘All things done in darkness will come to light.’ Well, here’s the fucking light, and it’s looking at him like he’s a monster. And it equally pisses him off and excites him.

“Come here.” It’s an order.

“No, William… I…” There are tears in your eyes at the emotional whiplash you’re experiencing. When he again steps towards you, you jump back, bumping into the shelving behind you, odd objects clattering on the floor. “Dont! Don’t touch me.” You hiss, panic making you raise your hands to strike at him, him touching you seems like the worst thing imaginable. You hit him in the chest, then again in the face before he stops you, grabbing your wrists and banging them above your head. The force of it again shakes the shelves, proving your terror right.

“Don’t be fucking scared of me. I’ve never hurt you before, have I? Why would I start now?” He speaks through his teeth and it’s soberingly firm.

“Get off me.” You struggle against him, thrashing as much as his brutal grip will allow.

“You,” He lowers his head so he’s speaking directly in your face. “You are the mother of my children, I’m not going to lay a finger on you… Unless you make me.”

Instantly you go still, his threat thinly veiled but clear as crystal in the damp and bloody room. There’s a man you recognise. A man who likes to bargain. Only this isn’t business, it’s life or death, his life for yours.

“There you go. You need to get your head on straight, this is nothing to you.” And despite the poisonous hatred you feel you find yourself nodding, you have more than yourself to worry about and you’re as obligated to him as he is for you. For better or worse.

#fnaf #william afton #william afton x reader #william afton x you #fnaf smut #fnaf movie

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swampgh0stt · 4 months

Text

That's not Child's Play

art by: @stardustrobin

Vanessa doesn’t trust the plush Spring Bonnie that T’aaku found. He isn’t willing to throw it out. Spring Bonnie comes to life and attacks Vanessa.

Something new sat in the nursery, staring with blank purple eyes. Settled beside the baby crib, the plush seemed like a sentry over the young infant Deishu. But Vanessa thought it more horrifying than anything else, and she couldn’t wrap her head around why T’aaku would have added this to the nursery… or when. She didn’t remember it when they first moved in together, and she had helped set it up when he came to live in her home. Yet, there the golden rabbit plush was, as if it had always been there.

“T’aaku?” Vanessa called, never taking her eyes off the plush golden Bonnie. They had been through entirely too much to not question this strange appearance. “Can you come here?”

He didn’t leave her waiting for long, hurrying into the nursery in case something was wrong. “Yeah?” His voice was soft, dripping with his own anxiety. “What’s wrong?” The blonde pointed to the plush rabbit, his yellow eyes following until they fell on the strange plush. Then his heart ached, tightening in his chest.

Golden Bonnie. --William’s mascot. He had only ever known the man as the costumed character, having pulled William out of the secret room while he was trapped in the springlocked suit. The imagery of the golden rabbit was so heavily tied to everything T’aaku knew of his ex-lover, how could it be anything or anyone else? And then he felt guilty for not moving it sooner, now seeing the confused and terrified look in Vanessa’s green eyes. “Oh, that…” The mechanic swallowed down the lump forming in his throat. “Yeah, I… I don’t know where it came from. I think Aniu may have got it for him?”

But that didn’t make sense either. Aniu had made it her mission to bring justice to the children who lost their lives, to prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that William Afton was the murderer never charged.

“Deishu really likes him,” T’aaku tried to add as he slipped past her and closer to the crib. He took the golden Bonnie plush gently in hand, his gaze softened as he looked it over.

Vanessa struggled to find the words. She didn’t blame T’aaku for any lingering affection (even if she didn’t quite understand it), but… “It’s creepy,” she admitted. “I don’t like it.” Her lover shrunk back like a kicked dog, falling quiet for the moment. He didn’t see the harm in keeping a toy around.

“It’s not real, Vanessa…” Rarely was there a moment he would try to argue with her. Oftentimes, they agreed on… well, everything. Having spent so much time together, Vanessa and T’aaku found themselves in sync with each other.

Was he really going to get upset over a stuffed animal? Then she paused, her green eyes shifting down. Was she really going to get upset over a stuffed animal? She clenched her hands, feeling something bitter bubbling in her gut as her eyes narrowed. Unable to explain, Vanessa was forced to resign, even if there was something off about the plush. Clearly, T’aaku didn’t feel the same way. And wouldn’t he know? His goggles were special, even if he never told her how or why. He would be able to see if there was something truly wrong with it. “Nevermind,” she mumbled, retreating from the nursery.

That would not be the end of it.

Vanessa swore the plush began moving around on its own. She would remember seeing it in one spot, only to find it in a completely different area of the house later. T’aaku was soft on the plush, wanting its company and somehow finding comfort in it. Vanessa didn’t understand, but she wasn’t going to give him much pushback for it either. Feelings were complicated. Despite how she felt about William, and the hell he put them both through-- she understood that her partner’s feelings (while messy) were genuine. And to his credit, T’aaku never argued in defense of their tormenter. At the end of the day, the mechanic had still come through for her-- saved her from William’s hold on her mind. He stood his ground and worked hard to take down the Monster in the pizzaplex. Together, they trapped the Mimic animatronic below, and brought MXES out to tackle the electronic beast William had become.

She trusted her partner. And so, she kept her mouth shut about the oddities surrounding the Golden Bonnie plush. In the wake of her freedom, Vanessa knew she was prone to hallucinations and wrote off what she saw as nothing more than that: hallucinations. Her mind playing tricks on her.

It was nothing to worry T’aaku over. Until that day--

Sharp pain shot through her whole body from the force of something metal penetrating her side. Vanessa immediately recoiled and fell to the floor, putting pressure on the open wound that took her by surprise. Blood seeped out, staining her white tank top. Her body trembled, overcome by agony and shock. What just happened?

And then she was answered with a sneer. Her green eyes shifted up, finding the now animated plush of Golden Bonnie, his little paws bloodied. How he managed to shove a small pipe through her was beyond the blonde, who crawled back to create some distance between them. “Does it hurt?” William’s deep voice purred out from the plushie. “I guarantee it doesn’t hurt as badly as what you did to me.”

“Fuck you-” Vanessa breathed out, but the pain in her voice made the statement lose its edge. It betrayed her, showing how truly scared she was in the moment. Her body pressed against the wall, one of her arms slapping against it for support-- to keep her weight off the protrusion in her side. Her voice might have failed her, too weak to call for help, but the scraping and scrambling done in her weakened state was enough.

T’aaku’s white German Shepherd-- Shane, had heard the subtle sounds of distress. His sensitive nose immediately caught on the smell of blood, and he was off hunting down the source. Nose to the ground, the massive canine padded around the home until he found the threshold to the room Vanessa was trapped in.

--the room where the living plush stood, taunting her.

Shane’s fur bristled along his shoulders and neck as he let out a vicious bark, loud enough to catch T’aaku’s attention outside. Then, the canine lunged for the plushie, his metallic fangs ripping through cloth and stuffing with ease. There was nowhere to run. And no matter what William did, what scheming he came up with-- this damn dog was always there to ruin his plans.

#fnaf vanessa #fnaf vanny #william afton #springtrap #glitchtrap #spring bonnie #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf oc

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pyritesdumpster · 3 months

Text

“WHO ARE YOU?!?”

(TW:BLOOD)

(AgaXSB Crossover)

Mike was anchored down in a office, but it wasn’t the office, his office that he grown a accustomed to over the years in fact it wasn’t even the correct building sure everywhere he looked the name Fazbear was plastered on every surface imaginable - except for the stained bat that was slanted on a wall.. but this wasn’t the pizzeria. Its was a mall known as the “Mega Pizzaplex”,

“It definitely lives up to being mega…” mike grumbled flickering through the numerous security cameras, that laid about on the small desk, to see if he spots any near by roaming animatronics.

The animatronics here too are stark contrast to the ones back the the pizzeria, they had much more polished and bulkier builds as well being higher aggressive to the point of hunting you down like prey, compared to the bots mike was originally going to watch over, who have a plushie exterior & behavior more decently… but here he in some— Freddy Faz-hell! (Im sorry, i can already sense the second hand embarrassment from y’all, it’s beautiful)

As much as he wanted to stay here in play it safe, it wasn’t much of an option. He had obtained a substantial injury to the left arm from earlier that definitely needed to be bandage and if the animatronics were capable of smelling he would rather not leave behind a trail. The injury itself felt like it was eating away on mike blood and skin, it stings similar to a wasp.

“The doors of the office are temporarily powered, leaving was bound to happen either way.” Mike tried make it seem like it wasn’t big deal to himself, the batteries on the walls taunted him as the bars on them slowly disappeared.

Mike let out defeated groan, scanning the camera once more to locate a near by first aid station. He pulled a folded up map from his back pocket, he had received from a Map-bot, he briefly thought back to the interaction between the both of them but snap back to the task at hand. He unfolded and flatten the map on the cluttered desk before grabbing a near by pencil, scribbling out what path he will take to get the first aid.

He scanned the map over a couple times on what to do, not bothered to check cameras (dummy). He quietly walked up to left door tucking the map away in his front pocket this time before grabbing his bat with his good arm. Pressing the button to release the door, he stepped out and started walking down the hallway but before he could past the office window a voice boomed behind him.

“Who are you?!?”

Mike turned back to look, swinging his bat into both hands despite the injured protests, he could feel a rush of adrenaline pumping in. Towering over him was the face of the company , Freddy Fazbear’s himself (more accurately a variant of the bear), while being all decked out in bling and sparkling clothing the main mascot was weirdly missing his signature top hat & bowtie. The bear’s glowing face made mike feel like deer in headlights, a very pathetic deer.

“No don’t get distracted” Mike tried to knock some sense into himself, he gripped the bat harder . “What am i thinking? I can’t go up against a bear even if it’s a robotic bear!” Panic began setting in.

What will mike do? What can he do?…

(Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes writing is not my strong suit, ALSO SORRY IT OKE SO LONG!!!! yall have free permission to beat me especially cuz its so ass)

Bonus+ (full body of the both of them)

#ask goldie anything #grawolfquinn #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #glamrock freddy #AGAXSB au #i have not slept #also also really sorry if mike sounds ooc

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jellycreamjammedart · 9 months

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Lost and Found (Super)Stars

[THATS IT YALL THE BRAINROT AND HEADCANONS FINALLY KICKED ME IN THE ASS AND NOW I WANNA MAKE IT AN STORY]

PT. 1 (index/parts) (Tag: desktop/mobile)

FNAF Security Breach Ruin, post-"betrayal" elevator ending hurt/comfort, Found Family, something I like to call "Hopeful Horror"

Summary: Having had her kindness stomped on then spat back at her, betrayed by who she thought was her friend, and now stuck at the ruined remains of Freddy Fazbear's PizzaPlex, Cassie tries to find the slightest bit of meaning and worth in all of this.

"Cassie?"

Roxanne Wolf uneasily called out to the silence that was following the very nasty, loud metallic sound of heavy free-falling and crushing. The kind of noise that makes one feel the vibrations of it through the air and reverberate over the walls. When it comes to that, the dead silence that came afterwards was anything but reassuring. The wolf's endoskeleton ears pinned back against her exposed metal skull.

'Please let her have left this accursed place,' she thought to herself.

Even without her eyes, the view before her sends an sinking feeling into her non-existent stomach.

The elevator shaft that was supposed to lead her twice number 1 back to freedom was squashed to around half its former height, almost like a harmonica. The damned creature she fought not long ago was motionless on the floor, likely knocked back by the crash-land of the elevator; interestingly, it was missing an arm now.

No matter. Roxy walked past the rogue endo, bee-lining to the elevator, internally begging for it to be empty. With what remains of her sharp claws, as well as robot strength, she slashed and forced open the elevator doors, and her ears drop at the sight before her.

"Cassie!?"

Roxy doesn't hesitate to gather the unresponsive child into her metal arms, a million thoughts racing through her head, most of them along the lines of what happened and how could this happen?

How could this happen!? How could she have let this happen to her twice number 1!?

She shifts the girl into one arm, her other hand brushing the curling hair off Cassie's face; her metallic spine shudders uncomfortably at the feel of something wet upon doing so.

Any laments are momentarily halted when Roxy feels some ominous rumbling, like land shifting. But not under them. Somewhere above. Something is tunneling around through the earth above their heads.

It's become a lot more urgent the moment a large boulder results from that, and lands right onto the squashed elevator shaft, crushing it completely (as well as the endo arm that was in there.) If she had taken Cassie out just a little later...

Roxy shifts the child again, holding her in both arms with her head resting over her shoulder, before she twisted on her heels and bolted down the hall, knowing the sign of a boulder means, usually, more boulders. She leaps over the endoskeleton, seemingly just now starting to recover its senses. More boulders fall over the elevator shaft, rendering it and even the possibility of scaling it up null.

Roxy can hear that creature screeching after her, almost as if frustrated at having its planned way out buried under boulders and rubble, but the wolf ignored it, refusing to look back let alone slow down even the slightest bit. Especially when she can still hear some rumbling above them. She dashes through the doorway right before boulders fall, partially blocking it, which buys them time as the rogue endo has now to plow its way through it. Roxy rushes through the raw tunnels, feeling like the world was crashing down over her and her precious winner, even though it was probably only a few more isolated boulders crashing onto some of the dead-ends.

Upon reaching that mossy room full of creepy mascot suits, Roxy can hear the rumbling of earth calming down a little. She wouldn't have stopped at all, but a certain other sound caught her attentive ears.

"... Roxy...?"

"Cassie??" Roxy skids to a halt upon hearing the girl's hoarse voice, carefully setting her on the ground but still holding onto her shoulders. "Cassie? Cassie, are you okay??" If she had lungs, her torn up torso would be raising and lowering rapidly in anticipation of the answer.

Cassie's eyes do drift to her favorite bandmate's endoskeleton face. She's conscious but still dazed, a trickle of blood leaking down the side of her forehead from under her hair; no wonder she's dazed, she must have hit her head back at the elevator. That definitely will need some looking at. "Roxy, you... You actually came back for me, even after... after what I..." She trails off, seemingly struggling to get her bearings, and yet understood perfectly how far Roxy had just gone for her. Something catches the corner of her eye, and she slowly bends down to pick up the Freddy-talk that had been used to play her like a fiddle, staring down at it.

Roxy would've said that of course she came back; she didn't exactly understand why Cassie had tried to deactivate her, but could see crystal clear the pain and grief in the girl's face every second of it, it was like Cassie was murdering her and hating every moment of it. But before the wolf could say anything, a sound once again catches her ears. "CASSIE, WATCH OUT!"

She basically tackles herself and Cassie through the formerly barricaded door and into the next room, the girl held securely into her arms, turning so that her robotic body scraped by the floor rather than the kid's. She had pushed them both just before a boulder in the other room would've crashed onto them both.

They both sit up and stare at the fresh debris right next room.

"... that was a close one." Roxy exhaled stunned, while Cassie scrambled onto her feet and nearly stumbled over to the old computer off to the side. "Cassie? What are you doing?"

Cassie groans to herself still a little dizzy; of course the computer is lifeless and useless. ... in the Real World, at least.

She wipes the blood off her forehead with her sleeve, then reaches for an ominous-looking rabbit mask from under her red sweater, putting it over her face.

Now she can see the power on button highlighted, in the Augmented Reality, which she presses, bringing in a message onto the screen:

WARNING: SECURITY PROTOCOLS DEACTIVATED. TURN SYSTEM ON ANYWAY?

[YES] [NO]

Cassie presses YES, prompting a BOOTING UP... message to pop up on the computer screen, the sound akin to the humming of a CPU starting to run in the large server right behind her.

To Be Continued...

#fnaf sb ruin spoilers #fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf sb ruin #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddys #five nights at freddy's security breach #five nights at freddys security breach #five nights at freddy's security breach ruin #five nights at freddys security breach ruin #cassie #roxanne wolf #mimic #the mimic #jellycream art #lost and found superstars #i fought the post elevator ending found family brainrot and lost royally #this might be a little short but remember its just the beginning

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fire-of-the-sun · 10 months

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Speculation on Lotor's Armor

It's time for more unnecessary speculation about Lotor because I miss him. Last time we addressed Lotor's appearance, we talked about what was up with his incredible hair (here), now I'd like to discuss his iconic armor, the potential history behind it and how it services his character.

Even just at first glance in his introductory scene, Lotor clearly stands apart from his fellow Galra and not just due to his features. Even before we see his face, his unique stature and attire speaks volumes about the character we're about to meet as the colors and overall style bears no resemblance to anything we see a typical Galra wear - nor anyone else for that matter - singling Lotor out as a unique and unpredictable individual. So, why does he choose to dress so differently?

One interesting and inescapable truth about Lotor's armor is that it perfectly matches the color scheme of his cat, Kova, to such a specific degree that it can be no accident, so it only makes sense that Lotor himself decided to create or commission a suit to match. But why? Well, given the childhood that Lotor had to endure, it's not hard to imagine the inspiration was simply due to his allegiance to the fellow quintessence-touched creature. A way to honor it as the only true friend and companion he's ever had and the only thing that's ever truly been his or, at least, the one thing he chose for himself. Kova no doubt played a huge role in his lonely life and was probably the only decent thing in it as, for someone who had no real or meaningful connections, this relationship would naturally become incredibly important to him - important enough to showcase visually. In this way, perhaps the decision isn't just a matter of honoring a friend, but also perpetuating his own individuality as defined by his relationship with his cat as something that belongs solely to him.

However, if we dig deeper into this, things get more interesting.

When I was originally writing this meta, I was looking for clues in Lotor's main design that could legitimize the idea that he would have tailored it to honor his Altean side (as he clearly isn't dressed like a Galra), as I think that would make a lot of sense for his character. Unfortunately, there's nothing incredibly obvious in his clothing that matches the aesthetic of the Alteans we see in the show as the style and color palette just don't align. This makes sense, I suppose, given that Lotor would never know exactly how they dressed even if he wanted to emulate them. And then I thought harder about Kova...

Given that he was originally Honerva's pet and she's Altean and therefore is from there as well, one could argue that designing his appearance after Kova was, intentionally or not, reflective of Altean culture to some degree. And if Lotor devised that Kova was originally Honerva's, his signature look could also be a way to remember his mother as well as her culture, both of which he deeply admires and are intrinsically part of himself. At this time, he believes all Alteans to be extinct, making him (and Kova) the sole keepers of their legacy and he chooses to wear that proudly. Ultimately, Kova isn't just his best friend, he's also a connection to his mother and Altea and all the things he holds dear and thus becomes his own personal mascot of sorts.

This decision is also deliciously ironic given that his chosen appearance is simultaneously an unintentional extension of Haggar as well, whom he despises but cannot fully escape. Just as Honerva and Haggar are two halves of the same person and Kova, therefore, belonged to both, the style Lotor chooses is also inextricably a reflection of Haggar just as much as it is Honerva and what they represent to him: corruption as well as purity - which is an interesting contrast in regard to Lotor's character.

Speaking of contrast, it's worth noting that there is, of course, a distinct and purposefully clashing styles between the Galra and Alteans. The former made up of sharp edges and intimidating reds and blacks while the latter is defined by soft shades of blue, gold and pure white. Both designs are successful in respectively encapsulating a race who's known only war and another that promotes peace. With a parent from each, Lotor naturally stands somewhere in between these opposing views both in his internal struggles as well as an outward appearance that doesn't conform perfectly to either. Lotor's style, therefore, is an interesting amalgamation of his roots, an echo of their inherent conflict, and a bold statement to all who see him who he is and where he stands.

So, we have an idea of the inspiration behind the armor, but when did he implement it?

We see in some flashbacks that young Lotor did wear Galran styled clothing. Though he cannot change the reality of his mixed blood, he can try to speak, act and dress as a Galra - all actions that a young prince would be expected to uphold but also probably pushed himself to practice and perfect in order to assimilate himself better into their society and appeal to his father. However, there's a huge unexplored time gap between what we see of Lotor's childhood and him as an adult who has already adopted his very divergent final look with no real explanation. That's why I mainly want to address the flashback in 8x02, as it's the youngest adult version we see of Lotor and marks an influential event that I feel could have had a grander effect with a few tweaks to his design.

At the beginning of the flashback, we see Lotor and Kova together - the proximity affording the audience a strategic reminder of their unmistakably similar color schemes and of their bond. Now, perhaps his appearance remains unchanged here simply to make it easier for the artists and animators so they could avoid designing a new look for him for only one scene, but I personally find it a wasted opportunity to benefit the story further by showing Lotor at a very different point in his life and a different appearance would certainly help reflect that.

Personally, I would have liked to have seen him in more traditional Galran clothing here and maybe even sporting slightly shorter hair - even if only for the selfish desire to see Lotor look somewhat different at some point during the course of the entire show. The hair would help to indicate that he's a little younger here (though we don't actually know how long ago it was) and the traditional armor would supplement the story visually by showing him still bearing some ties to his Galran heritage at this point as he continues to try to prove himself to his father that he is an effective and worthy son. He does want to change things though and help his father see there are other, more merciful ways of reaching their goals and by appearing as a Galra in the best way he can, he could perhaps make his sentiments more palatable.

Of course, things go horribly wrong and this flashback details one of the biggest shifts in Lotor's life. In the span of one scene, he transforms from dutiful Galran prince trying to please his father to exile who has severed all ties to the Galra, all hopes of appealing to Zarkon and is now determined to bring him down. Until this point, Lotor has struggled and failed to be the prince his father and the rest of his people would approve of and changing his entire appearance after his exile would really punctuate his literal and symbolic divergence from the Galra by creating a look and identity all his own with no aesthetic connection to them. Lotor, at last, is taking control over his own life and no longer living in his abuser's shadow. Naturally, the change is openly rebellious - an unmistakable rejection of a culture that rejected him and a slap in the face to all who see him. He's charted his own course and pledged allegiance fully to himself and what he believes in. Lotor's generals are also tasked to wear the same style clothing as him - a clear sign to all who see them to whom they serve.

Of course, there could be other explanations that accommodate the writers need for him to maintain this look:

Perhaps Lotor just changed his look as an angsty teen who wanted to rebel perhaps. My issue with this idea though is that I don't think Zarkon would have approved of him dressing as anything less than a Galran prince is expected to and, as we see of Lotor even as an adult in the flashback, he's still trying to present himself the best he can to his father, and I don't think he'd take the risk of angering him just to feel more independent as Zarkon will use any excuse to punish him. I like to think that Lotor's outburst against his tactics in this flashback is the first real time he's ever rebelled against his father, hence the surprise and severe punishment. Lotor would never want to willingly incur his wrath unless over such an important thing as the lives of others - another reason why I think changing into his final look after his exile is the best narrative choice. Only after being formally expelled from the empire, I imagine, Zarkon would no longer care about seeing Lotor maintain a Galran appearance and would no longer protest to seeing him dressed differently.

Or, maybe he only recently adopted the new look while staying on Ven'tar's planet with Kova for a year. Perhaps, in his first real venture outside of Zarkon's shadow and Galran culture, he became more independent, more self-assured and wanted to adjust his attire to reflect that growth. To make something of himself on his own and define himself as an individual who is open to clothing untethered to just one culture. Maybe this decision was also partially bolstered by his inclination to make the people he's leading feel more comfortable around him as well by presenting himself as different than the other Galra they know and fear. Of course, during his conversation with Zarkon, we also learn that Lotor now knows about his Altean roots and that potentially recent discovery could also have played a role in his desire to alter his appearance (using Kova as his muse) as his time away gave room for him to begin to distance himself from the Galra and begin his exploration into his Altean heritage. Again, though, I don't think Zarkon would naturally approve of seeing him in foreign attire (especially inspired by Altea). He doesn't care about Lotor but he does care about maintaining his image as a Galra prince and projecting the strength and authority that title brings over others as demonstrated in this scene.

Ultimately, regardless of the exact origins, this visual separation from the Galra serves to aid Lotor in his quest to transform the universe by presenting himself as someone who stands apart from the rest of his race and their ruthless ways. He's independent with a unique appearance to match his unique manner of leadership and ideas for the future. Presenting a wholly personal choice of style that acts as a natural extension of himself and a love for his Altean heritage as inspired from the only friend he ever really had.

So, there you have it! That's my unnecessarily long take on why Lotor dresses to match his cat.

#vld #voltron #lotor #prince lotor #kova #zarkon #honerva #haggar #v:ld #voltron: legendary defender #lotor meta #vld meta #voltron meta #vld lotor #lotor vld

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artzychic27 · 5 months

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You got to admit that Marc and Nath have always had Adrien’s back in a way others haven’t. Like, them automatically sensing he was genderqueer/genderfluid? (Marinette probably dictate she was supposed to be the princess in their comic but they took one look at Adrien, and said “yeah no they’d wear a dress. There’s something gay going on there.” And take creative liberties because we all know Marc and Nath have good taste.) and to top it off on the Boys Only Party they literally kissed Adrien on his cheeks. That party was extremely gay and like I feel like Nath and Marc both said to Nino “we know he’s your baby chick but it’s obvious he’s not straight or Cis. We can break it to him gently or do it the fun way.” And Nino is saluting them like “I leave it to you. Don’t break the baby chick.”

Basically I’m just imagining Nath and Marc making plans with the Science kids to kidnap and adopt Adrien. He really needs it. I mean, a queer magical catboyTM who was literally born out of magic? He’s the perfect mascot for the Science Squad. From what I’ve seen they’ve all had some weird experiences with magic. Adrien literally is the definition of “weird experience with magic.”

Marc: *Pulls Adrien out of the body bag* Sorry, but we didn't know if you'd go with us willingly.

Adrien: But, I would have!

Nathaniel: See? I told you.

Marc: You suggested using chloroform!

Adrien: Guys! What's going on?

Jean: Why tell you... When I can sing to you?! *A spotlight shines on him, dressed in a sequin suit* Maestro! *Piano music plays* Weeeelll~

*After a lavish musical number written and choreographed by Jean*

Jean: And that's how they do it, from England to Pompei! My dear, sweet sunshine child, you're totally... GAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY! Yeah! *Confetti rains down*

Adrien: *Clapping* Oh, my gosh! That was amazing!

Jean: Thank you! Thank you! Yes, I know! So, did you get the message?

Adrien: ... The what?

Cosette: How can someone so cute be so oblivious?

Zoé: It's one of life's mysteries.

Nathaniel: Alright, I'll just come out and say it. In fact, this is so serious, that I'm gonna drop the shy voice. *Lower voice* You're obviously queer and genderfluid.

Adrien: ... What?

Aurore: Way to lay it on gently, Nath.

Adrien: But, I'm not. It's normal for guys to enjoy being girls for a bit... Right?

Science Kids/Nathaniel: *Raised eyebrows*

Simon: Sure. And, you're probably gay or bi.

Adrien: What? No, I'm not. I like girls.

Denise: Nothing about the way you look at Luka is straight, penqueño sol.

Reshma: And, what is it about Marinette that you truly like?

Adrien: ...

Reshma: What about Kagami?

Adrien: ...

Lacey: Yep, he's gay.

Mireille: Knew it. Now, he's obviously not a disaster gay. And, I don't think he's functional, either.

Cosette: More like a cross between distinguished and disaster, really.

Reshma: We'll settle that later. Adrien, we're going dress shopping. I'll pay so your dad doesn't see the charge.

Adrien: ... Can I get something in floral print?

Ismael: As long as it's tasteful and accentuates your shape. *The others look at him strangely* What? I hang out with Reshma, so I pick up fashion terms!

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #nathaniel kurtzberg #marc anciel #zoé lee #aurore béaureal #mireille caquet #jean duparc #adrien agreste #mlb ocs #science kids

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night-dark-woods · 4 months

Text

Yet she had also decided that she felt a strange kinship and sympathy for it, this cornered, desperate god, making infinite sacrifices out of its people.

I'm on a "rereading Forsaken loretabs" kick and I'm rotating this line in my head. Mara constantly sacrificing herself and her people to protect the solar system as a whole. Her sense of duty. Determined and deadset on saving everyone and the thing is she does she DOES save everyone!!! But does that make it worth it does that make it right!!!

What got me started again was the last line on the loretab of this year's Dawning ship (Hiera Hodos - which also... thats the Sacred Way from Athens to Eleusis, as in the Eleusinian Mysteries that Mara's throneworld is named for...):

And Mara walks alone, between the City and the dark outside.

Which made me think about this part of the Savin loretab (Title is also from this loretab):

Perhaps the Earth would be better off if the Traveler vanished or was destroyed, she thought. Even in the Reef, she felt as if she were living next to a torch held up in a dark wilderness, calling out across the galaxy to hungry things with too many eyes.

And so now I'm down the "Mara and her god complex" rabbithole again. Under a readmore because it's long:

If you have grace, then see our sorrows, but swallow back your tears. We were made to pay this price. I led us to our fate. (Archiloquy)

She feels this absolute guilt from the very beginning because she saw deeper meaning in a freak accident:

Because I asked us to leave, Mara thinks. Because something came out of deep space and killed the man next to me, and I saw the omen, and I said we should go. And now I feel like a coward. (Cosmogyre II)

And then you combine that personal guilt with her mother and Alis Li telling her she's responsible for what others think of her and that she is capable of more than those around her:

"It is one thing to have a particular power over people, Mara. But it is another to deny that you are using it." ... "Mara, you are an Auturge, a volunteer. I cannot order you to stop, and your work is exemplary. Are you putting anyone else in danger with your… art projects?" "No," Mara says. "Just myself." "False!" Li barks. "That is a selfish answer. You are now a symbol to my crew, a house god. If you were to die, they would lose something important, something Human that they have created out of loneliness and void. It would be an unforgettable reminder of the hostile nothingness that surrounds us. When you endanger yourself, you endanger that symbol. You are part of this mission's behavioral armor, Mara." Mara is thunderstruck. She's never thought about it this way. "All I did was take some captures. I didn't ask to be anyone's… mascot." "You presented yourself as a conduit to secret knowledge," Captain Li counters. "People made something out of you, Mara. Please take this from a starship captain: What people make of you, what they create of you—even without your consent—becomes a kind of responsibility. If the Mara they see when they look at you is good for them, then you have some duty to be that Mara." (Brephos III)

And you put all of that on the shoulders of an already self-important and borderline suicidal 19 year old who is convinced she's seeing secret meanings in things (and she is!!! Is the thing!!!) You cannot tell me she's not, given that her favorite enrichment activity is going on EVAs and taking off her suit in order to experience this:

The void boiled the water off her skin. Her body swelled with unchecked pressure until her undersuit forced it to stop. Alarmed cytogel crawled down her throat, hissing emergency oxygen: not enough. Her skin blued with cyanosis. She was bathed in the most profound emptiness. She recorded all of it at the neural level. The exquisite darkness. The sense of fatal independence from all things. There are those who will give anything to feel that void. (Brephos II)

And then after they are in the Distributary she keeps her idea of the duty of the Awoken to herself for so so so fucking long and plays such a long game and sacrifices her own people in that game to keep the Awoken from being truly comfortable in the Distributary:

"I have worked for many hundreds of years to arrange this outcome," Mara says, forthrightly, but without the courage to look Alis Li right in the eyes. "I have nurtured and tended the Eccaleist belief so that there will always be Awoken who feel uncomfortable in paradise. Guilty for the gift of existence in the Distributary. People who'll come with me." (Nigh I)

And all for the sake of her eventual goal of returning to the real world and saving the solar system that she is absolutely completely incapable of abandoning, regardless of the cost:

"Do you understand what you've done? Have you reckoned the full cost?" She has convinced tens of thousands of Awoken to abandon their immortality. She has deprived the Distributary an infinite quantity of joy, companionship, labor, and discovery: all the works that might be accomplished by all the people who will join her in her mission to another world. When she lies awake at night, seized by anxiety, she tries to tally up the loss in her head, but it is too huge, and it becomes a formless thing that stalks her down the pathways of her bones like the creak of a gravity wave. "Some infinities are larger than others," she tells her old captain. "I believe… we are here for a reason, and this is the way to fulfill that purpose." "And how much would you sacrifice? Your mother? Your brother? Are the Awoken real to you at all?" Alis leans across her pinned hand, viper-fierce, striking. "Do you think my people were made to die for you? "Not for me. For our purpose. For our fate." (Nigh II)

And she is so so so deeply aware of that cost, in Fideicide II Alis Li knows that "Mara knows the unthinkable value of even a single Awoken life," and she is so deeply deeply guilty about that. Like when she does tell Alis (and Sjur, eventually) we get to see her the most fucking vulnerable we ever do and GOD.

"No," Mara says, with her heart in her throat, with trepidation bubbling in her gut. You cannot keep a secret buried like a vintage for so many centuries, and then unbottle it without any ceremony. "The boon I ask is your forgiveness." Then she explains the truth. She tells Alis Li what she did: about the choice Alis Li would have made, if Mara had not made her own first. It's only an extension of what Alis has already deduced. When she's finished, her ancient captain's jaw trembles. Her hands shake. A keen slips between her clamped teeth. The oldest woman in the world conjures up all the grief she has ever felt, and still it is not enough to match Mara's crime. "You're the devil," Alis Li whispers. "I remember… in one of the old tongues, Mara means death. Oh, that's too perfect. That's too much." She laughs for a while. Mara closes her eyes and waits. "You realize," Alis Li says, breathing hard, "that this is the worst thing ever done. Worse than stealing a few thousand people from heaven. Worse than that thing we fled, before we were Awoken—" "Please," Mara begs. "Please don't say that." Alis Li rises from her chair. "I'll support your fleet," she says. "I'll use every favor and connection I have to get your Hulls completed and through the gateway—and I will do it so that I can hasten your departure from this world. I will do it out of hate for you; I will do it so that every good and great thing we achieve here will ever after be denied to you, you snake. No forgiveness. Do you understand me? It is unforgivable. Go. Go!" "I'd be very glad if you didn't tell my mother," Mara says. (Nigh II)

The last line there fucking kills me. "I'd be very glad if you didn't tell my mother." God. And then when she is brave enough to tell Sjur, to try again after last time backfired so fucking spectacularly, Sjur forgives her:

"I was first," Mara says. And she explains the missing half, the first half of the sentence: I made the rules and initial conditions that deceived her into believing she herself had decided It ends like that, where the rest picks up. Sjur Eido looks at her in expressionless silence. Sjur Eido's hands stroke the seam between Mara's skinsuit and the glassy petals of her helmet. Long ago, this woman betrayed her oath and went to serve the Diasyrm, a woman who cried out in anguish at the curse of physicality and the possibility of suffering. Long ago, this woman threw away her whole life to punish the highest crime she could imagine: the denial of transcendent divinity to those who might have claimed it. "You're the devil," Sjur says. "You're the lone power who made death. You allowed the possibility of evil. You might be responsible for more preventable suffering than anything that has ever existed." Mara cannot shake her head or even nod. "Well," Sjur says, "if you hadn't, none of us would be here. I guess I don't see what else you could've done, if you cared about those we left behind. If you wanted us to be able to go back and help in the fight." She leans forward and very gently kisses the inside of her helmet, where it meets Mara's: in her mind, in that place that is bound to all other Awoken, Mara feels the touch of gentle lips. (Tyrannocide III)

And like, those chapters also make me lose my mind because of the twofold meaning of the title- Tyrannocide because she is killing Oryx, yes, but also because she herself is dying. The self-appointed (and only ever real) Queen of the Awoken:

We are risen from man and fallen from heaven. We are made again in the fall. What was once us will not ever again be us. I am the uncrowned ever-Queen and my only diadem will be the event horizon of the universe, which is my dominion. By falling, I will rise. (Palingenesis II)

"Mara, with all my respect, all my genuine gratitude for bringing us here," Esila sighs, "who died and made you Queen?" Mara says nothing. But she thinks: Everyone, Esila. All of us died and made me Queen. (Revanche II)

On the day the Fallen struck, Mara was proclaimed Queen. It happened swiftly, though after no little debate among the people, for everyone was afraid of a monarch who could speak to their thoughts. Yet they feared more to deny her power and sovereignty, for they had come between worlds in her name. To refuse her would be to refuse their choice. (Revanche V)

And the thing is that she is their queen in such a real and tangible way like she made them she made their fate she can sense every single one of them and feels their deaths and at the same time as she is sacrificing them for The Greater Good she would do anything to save them:

Mara crawls through compartments choked with vaporized coolant. She keeps low and clutches the breather to her face. All she can think of is Kelda Wadj's last message and the data attached. "Mara. The paracausal effects are strongest around you. Whatever's happened to us, you are the locus. I cannot overstate how subtle and how important this discovery might be. Mara, when we use radioactive decay as a trigger for simulated bombs—bombs that could harm Awoken—the trigger atoms are a thousandfold less likely to decay near you. People are literally safer when you are around." She has to get into the riot. She has to protect her people. A horrible groan vibrates through the habitat structure, and then, with an apocalyptic shudder, something tears off the Reef. A ship. A ship is leaving. Mara has failed. ... She rolls onto her back and stares up into the swirling vortices of coolant, seeing faces, futures, the lives she has just lost, the lives she might yet lose. She brought her people here to die in the sense that she brought them into mortality—but she never wanted it to happen quickly. (Revanche IV)

And she keeps losing people and losing people and losing people. So many of the Distributary Awoken defect and go to Earth:

Nasan purses her lips. "I want them to understand that you are—that you—that you are good. That you aren't what they think." Seeing Sjur bristle, she holds up her hand. To her relief, Mara makes a slight warding gesture as well. "And if they know that and still wish to live apart from us on Earth, that's fine. That's their choice." "I don't need them to understand that," Mara says softly. There is the faintest husk of grief in her steady voice. (Chords of Meaning)

And then she loses Nasan too and she comes back as Orin and the Traveler has taken yet another of her people from her (and brought them back wrong!):

"Woof," Sjur Eido says when she sees Orin for the first time, "Mara's gonna hate this." She crosses the detainment cell to get a better look at Gol. "Figured this might happen eventually, but I'd always hoped��" She pulls at the nape of her neck, then gives a little half-shrug: well, what can you do. (Queenslaw)

And then she loses Sjur when she is taken/killed by the Nine:

"This was on her body, Your Grace." A strange coin lay at the center of Abra's outstretched palm. Mara took it between thumb and forefinger and held up it to the cosmos with dainty contempt. Weregild, she thought. Powerful grief filled her chest, as thick and caustic and heavy as unset concrete. (Oathkeeper)

And she turns to Orin for assistance with that and then because of that (!!!) loses Orin again as well:

On the day that Sjur Eido dies, she receives a call from Mara Sov. "I would ask for my boon," the queen says with shaking voice. It is the first time she dares to trust a Guardian. It will not be the last. (Debt)

On the day she leaves to find the Nine, the Techeuns name her Orin the Lost. (Synesthesia)

And then she answers the question Alis Li asked her so long ago about whether she is willing to sacrifice her brother (a resounding, grieving, determined yes):

Mara will begin the end of that Queen's brother today. She knows what that means for the fate of her own. An eye for an eye. She must think now of the fate of entire cosmos—and of her tender, half-assembled answer to the cold sword logic of the Hive. She must not grieve. She must not fear. (Tyrannocide IV)

And then at the Battle of Saturn all of this loss she has been dreading and yet causing for millenia finally comes to fruition and she then will have a good long time just sitting with that in Oryx's throne world:

This is the moment of absolute sacrifice, the incarnation of Awoken doom: to give up their lives in defense of the world they once abandoned. The sense of their great dying rips at Mara like a sob. (Tyrannocide V)

It's just like. Such a classic and compelling and well-executed examination of do the ends justify the means? (Seth Dickinson at it again! In so many ways Baru is Mara is Baru is Mara!!!) Every one of her actions led to this point, to defeating Oryx, and was that not worth it? And yet how could it ever be worth it?

I think especially the outside perspectives from Earthborn Awoken & Guardians are really interesting on that front because while they still have the connection to Mara - "However, there was always in their souls an itch, a vector pointing to a distant place in the Asteroid Belt, where their Queen still dwelt." (Revanche V) - they did not choose to follow her and they do not have the same loyalty:

Zavala:

"She was a charlatan," Zavala says, quietly. "Fighting a war that existed only in her mind. Dragging you all behind her. Any of you who will admit that are welcome in my City. But I will not take in whatever conspiracies she left unfinished. If you come to us, you come to join the City." (Refusal)

Arach Jalaal:

She speaks. "Earthborn. Did you mourn for her?" He thinks she will know if he lies. "I respected her, yes, but I despised the way she seemed… entitled… to us all. I never regret choosing the path I did. I was Awoken to continue the search we started long ago. The quest for worlds worthy of our lives." (Fleet)

Master Rahool:

We long feared that if it were intercepted by her Majesty your Queen, it would be denied or manipulated to serve some need of her own. (Of Earth and the Reef)

Mara is just such an incredibly compelling and complex and interesting character and she is so stubborn and full of herself and self-righteous and she saved the solar system and she doomed her people to mortality and she's always right because she has to be and because she makes it so and she keeps secrets from everyone and has lost more people than many people ever meet and she has felt every single one of their deaths. She is everything to me.

#my posts #loreposting #hi. im sooo stable and normal about this character.#im sure there are more things i missed that would fit really well in here but ive been at it for like. 4 hours lol.#i also have a separate sticky note with a truly unhinged number of petra and sjur lore tabs. god.#do i dare put this in the main tag. i dont have a separate tag so i think i have to for organizational purposes.#destiny #mara sov

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cookies-over-yonder · 6 months

Text

trick or treat!

CO-WRITTEN BY @silverlistenstothings

Part 23 of The Mortifying Ordeal of Being Roommates

The teens go trick or treating!

✧*.♡.*✧

DnDads Halloween Week Day 7: Trick or Treating!

ao3

Taylor and Hermie are both sitting in the living room when the doorbell rings. Taylor instantly tries to get up to answer it, but he still has a bag of candy in his lap and ends up knocking his cane to the floor in his effort to grab it. Hermie stands up instead, returning his cane to its place against the couch as they do.

“I’ve got it,” Hermie says, sauntering over to the door with all the confidence they don’t really feel.

It’s not like the Cast’s arrival was a surprise; Taylor had been planning this all month. Hermie was even part of the group chat where it all went down, even if they very rarely decided to speak in it. It’s just that they aren’t necessarily looking forward to seeing them all at once. They still have a lot of mixed feelings about the lot of them, and with all five of them in the same place at the same time, Hermie was even more likely to be pushed to the side. For all the extra pressure of a one-on-one interaction, they greatly prefer it to being ignored.

Regardless of their feelings, Hermie’s fate has been sealed for some time now, and they open the door with minimal hesitation.

Scary had given both Normal and Link a ride, meaning all three of them were waiting on the porch. Scary is dressed up in a black and red modern bastardization of Victorian fashion, all corsets and lace and a cape drawn around her shoulders. She's got glittering black lipstick, and red face paint at the edges of her mouth dripping down to her chin. She's wearing bluish blush on her cheeks to make her skin look ashen, but the bright red eyeshadow definitely makes her look a little more alive.

“Hermie, you look great!” Normal exclaims, drawing their attention.

All and all, Normal doesn’t look all that different than usual in his Teeny mascot suit, but upon closer inspection, Hermie notices several patches of discoloured fabric. It looks like sections of the costume were cut out and replaced, stitches hidden and then gone over with dark, thick thread to create an exaggerated Frankenstein patchwork. The added colours clash in a way that manages to look purposeful, and it’s a perfect Halloween addition to the already-horrific Teeny.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” Hermie admits, reluctantly impressed by the handiwork.

“Oh! Really? You think so? Hero helped me pick out fabric, but I did all the design and sewing myself!” Normal brags, bouncing on his feet. He excitedly shakes out the floppy mascot hand that isn’t holding Teeny’s head against his hip.

“Can we come in?” Link interrupts, which Hermie is actually very grateful for, for once. He's wearing a hoodie and sweatpants in stark contrast to the others, but Hermie has been hearing all month about the costume Taylor's planned for the two of them, so they know what's coming.

“Scary’s the vampire here, you don’t have to ask permission,” Hermie says, stepping aside to allow them to pass.

“Link!” Taylor cheers from the couch, and Link lights up immediately at the sound of his voice.

“Taylor!” Link greets, matching his affection, if not necessarily his enthusiasm.

“Gross,” Hermie mumbles, rolling their eyes as they return to the couch.

“I guess we’re too old for it, but I still kinda wish we were going trick-or-treating,” Taylor sulks, continuing to mournfully sort through the bag of candy, snagging what he wants to keep and dumping the rest into a seasonally-appropriate bowl. Hermie leans over his shoulder, picking out some sour candies and stashing them in their own pockets.

"I've actually never been trick-or-treating," Link says, and considering his parents, Hermie supposes that makes sense.

"Me neither," they chime in absentmindedly.

It wasn’t a big concern for them after a couple of years of begging their parents and getting nothing but dismissive scoffs and annoyed looks for it. Once they were old enough to go out on their own, they figured they were too old for trick-or-treating anyways. Besides, in all the shows and movies they had their parents or friends accompanying them, and Hermie going out completely alone just seemed pathetic… and a bit scary, at the time. Which made it even more pathetic.

" What!? " Taylor shouts, startling everyone, it seems. "Okay, new plan, we are going trick-or-treating now ."

“What?” Scary groans, and Hermie is inclined to agree.

“It’s not a big deal,” Hermie sighs. Really, they should have expected this reaction. “You said it yourself; we’re too old for it now.”

“Well, it’s different now! We’re only getting older and you have to go trick-or-treating at least once!” Taylor insists.

“I really don’t think I do, actually,” Hermie says.

“I think it’d be fun! Nobody actually cares about how old we are, you know?” Normal joins in, smiling.

“I do,” Scary argues. “So fucking lame.”

“I don’t know, it kinda does sound fun…” Link says, and Hermie knows it’s over.

Hermie and Scary can both whine as much as they’d like, but they don’t stand a chance against the combined force of Taylor, Normal, and Link’s pleading. Hermie probably couldn’t say no to any of them individually, or anyone in general, because they’re pathetic.

“Hermie!” Taylor demands when there’s no further complaints. “Go retrieve the trick-or-treating thingies!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about or where they are,” Hermie sighs.

“The bags! I should have enough for everyone, but they won’t match our costumes…”

“Still don’t know where those are, and also I don’t want to.” Hermie slumps further into the couch, waving a hand dismissively.

Taylor mumbles a couple of displeased nonsense noises, but stands up and heads towards the basement.

“Everyone get your costumes ready! We’re doing this!” Taylor announces, pointing towards the others in the living room as he takes one backwards step down the stairs.

“Turn around, idiot!” Hermie calls.

Taylor makes a loud mocking noise, but obediently turns around anyways as he descends the stairs.

“Do we have to do this?” Scary sighs once Taylor is out of sight.

“I’d really rather not,” Hermie agrees, even as they straighten out the lapels of their suit and shift away the worst of their inhuman features.

“It’ll be fun! And we don’t have to stay out for long if it isn’t,” Normal says, returning the modified head of Teeny to its rightful place upon his shoulders.

Hermie feels like they should continue to protest, something about Taylor’s stubborn streak and how likely it is that he’ll refuse to turn back before he’s satisfied, but they know it’s an argument they’ll end up losing, assuming anyone even pays attention to them for that long.

Taylor scurries back up the stairs, several Halloween-themed bags in hand. He throws them down over the coffee table, radiating pride.

“Take your pick! Except for you, Link, I need to do your makeup!”

Taylor grabs Link’s hand with the one not holding his cane and drags him upstairs towards their bathroom. Hermie sighs, letting Normal and Scary take their pick of bags before grabbing the one they figure Link would go for, just to be a jerk.

Taylor and Link return after a while with makeup on and the last pieces of their costumes in place. Hermie’s head itches just looking at Taylor’s wig, but they aren’t at all surprised by his commitment to the costume.

Taylor's wearing a long yellow raincoat with matching boots. His wig is a deep royal blue, gelled to hell and back to where it looks like pieces of rope or string, and he's wearing the dragonfly hairclip Hermie had seen him making a few days ago. His nails are a pale blue—Hermie painted them last night when his hands were trembling again.

His eyes have little crosses in them, and while the button contacts do complete the look, Hermie wonders how obscured his vision might be.He's wearing blue eyeshadow and black lipstick, which isn’t exactly canon-compliant, but it does look good and match the costume well enough.

Link's wearing a long black coat and skeleton gloves. He's not wearing any fancy button contacts, but the dark eyeshadow circles under his eyes seem to be enough to tie together the costume.

“Ready? I’m ready! Let’s go!” Taylor cheers without waiting for a response, grabbing the last pair of bags off the table and dragging Link towards the entrance.

“I was not planning on walking around in these heels,” Scary grumbles, but she follows anyway.

“I would offer to swap shoes, but…” Normal trails off, frowning at Scary’s heels. They’re only three or so inches, but Hermie is inclined to agree.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Scary agrees. “It’s whatever.”

“Just let us know if you want to turn around, okay?” Normal offers, and Scary mumbles an agreement.

The sun has only just set, but the street lights and ambient light pollution makes it easy enough to see by, even if not for Hermie’s infernal night vision. It’s just on the edge of being cold. Unfortunately everyone is wearing long sleeves at least, so that’s one less excuse to go home early.

The first house they visit is barely decorated. A few pumpkins on the porch and some ghost string lights indicate that they are indeed celebrating the holiday, and the group walks up to the door, with Taylor in the lead. He rings the door, practically bouncing with excitement as he waits for someone to answer.

It isn’t long before an older man opens the door with a bowl of candy in hand. He seems a little surprised by the sight of them, but extends the bowl without comment when Taylor says the line and the others echo it half-heartedly. Hermie lingers at the back of the group, refusing to partake. They do, however, sneak their hand into Normal’s bag and snag his bounty as they turn to leave.

The next house is far more festive. There seems to be a graveyard theme with plastic bones scattered around at random and an out-of-place skull sitting on the porch. The motion sensors in the glowing eyes are so clearly visible that it’s hard to imagine anyone actually getting startled by it ‘suddenly’ moving.

… except Hermie doesn’t have to imagine it, because Taylor ends up getting startled right in front of them. It’s not much more than a hitch of the breath and a bit of a jump, but it clearly got him.

Link squeezes his hand comfortingly, offering Taylor a concerned smile. Hermie is about to step up to Taylor’s other side to bump their shoulders together and offer some light teasing, but Normal slides into place beside him instead. Hermie is all at once reminded of their place within this group, which is to say, they don’t have a place within it at all.

When it’s just Hermie and Taylor, it’s easy enough to trick themself into thinking that Taylor actually likes them, but now they’re reminded once more of how easy they are to replace. Taylor only spends time with them because they just so happen to be there, and now that the others are around, his preferences are clear.

And it’s not just Taylor either. They wouldn’t expect Scary or Link to be all that happy to see them, but now that he’s gotten over his initial excitement, it’s clear Normal couldn’t care less about them either.

Oh, how they’ve missed this. They wonder if anyone would notice if Hermie just turned around and went back to the house. As Taylor turns up the sidewalk towards the next house, they’re almost tempted to try.

And then one of the yard decorations lurches to life, mechanical arms flailing with a whirr far louder than the groans coming from the speaker hidden somewhere in its chest. Normal jumps, ducking behind Link and Taylor, but Taylor shrieks , lifting his cane as if about to strike as he curls into Link’s side.

Taylor is shaking as they leave that house, leaning into Link’s and clutching his arm even as he continues to joke around. If Hermie were a better person, they’d step in and turn this whole party around because Taylor clearly isn’t having much fun, but…

“Hey, are you okay?” Link murmurs, voice soft and gentle and soothing in a way Hermie has never been able to replicate.

“Yeah, of course!” Taylor says, leaning a bit too hard into foolhardy confidence.

“You’re shaking,” Scary points out.

“It’s cold!”

“Not particularly,” Hermie mumbles, but it goes unheard or ignored.

“We can head back if you want,” Link offers. If he’s seen through Taylor’s lie, he offers no sign of it one way or another.

“No way!” Taylor insists, tugging Link away from the house and back down the street. “We haven’t even gotten to the house with the full-sized candy bars!”

There’s another few houses that are devoid of jumpscares, and some of Taylor’s nervousness almost seems to be fading.

Almost . Even if Taylor isn’t visibly shaking anymore, Hermie can still see the tension in the set of his shoulders. He’s glancing around the streets at the other trick-or-treaters like any one of them could prove to be a threat. Considering they’re all very clearly children, Hermie likes their odds in the case of an attack. Not that there’s one coming, because they’re a bunch of children.

Somewhere around four houses later, they come upon one with a pair of trees on either side of the path towards the entryway. Fake spiderwebs hang between the trees, a fuzzy black spider sitting in pride of place among the webs. There’s a few more plastic spiders scattered across the trees and lawn, with one sitting right beside the porch. The glow behind its red plastic eyes gives it away even from a distance, but Taylor still shrieks as it ‘suddenly’ scuttles to life.

From further down the path, Hermie can see that it’s attached to a semicircle base that means it’s only moving a few inches one way or another, but from up close it must seem like it’s coming right towards you. Taylor, of course, does not react well to that perceived threat, and slams the base of his cane straight through its wire carapace before stumbling back a few steps.

Hermie takes place beside it, kicking at its shattered remains. One leg still twitches through its mechanical death-throes until Hermie pins it underfoot and puts the poor thing out of its misery.

“Sick,” Scary comments absently, trying to sound aloof even as she steps towards Taylor, visibly concerned.

“Oh gosh, we’re gonna get in so much trouble,” Normal says, but his concern seems to be directed more towards Taylor than the owners of what is now a pile of spider-shaped scrap metal. “But hey, are you okay?”

Taylor wheezes on a response, and ends up nodding his head when the words don’t manage to make it past his throat.

“We can head back now,” Link says, gently insistent.

“No um—“ Taylor takes in a sharp breath, letting it out a bit steadier. “Nonono, it’s fine I’m fine it’s totally fine.”

Nobody who’s actually fine ever says they’re fine that many times in a row at that speed, but Hermie supposes, as usual, they have no room to judge.

Taylor continues onwards to the next house. Link glances over his shoulder towards Hermie, but Hermie looks away before anything can be communicated.

They should stop. They should grab Taylor’s other hand and drag him home. They should sit down in the middle of the sidewalk and refuse to move any further. They should do something , anything, to get Taylor to turn around, or at least to stop rushing ahead before he can catch his breath.

They don’t. Taylor leads the way up the sidewalk of the next house, and then the one after that. As they approach the third house, a rickety scarecrow decoration lurches from the lawn, scattering dead leaves across their feet. It actually was a well-hidden mechanism this time around, enough that even Hermie flinches, but Taylor…

"Fuck!" Taylor screams—immediately drawing in the disapproving looks of every parent in sight—and stumbles backward, only to fall into Link's arms, eyes wide and wild before he draws his hands up to his face. His breathing starts to become audibly shallow and strained, much to everyone's concern.

“Whoa, Taylor, you okay!?” Normal says, rushing to Taylor’s other side. His hands flutter anxiously, but all it does is make Taylor curl further into his hands. Scary stares at Taylor for a moment longer, before straightening up and glancing around; checking for threats, Hermie supposes. One of her signature scowls scares a curious child away from investigating the group of teens further.

"Taylor, hey, hey, hey," Link turns Taylor so he's facing him, and carefully pries his hands away from his eyes, holding them tightly. "Breathe."

Taylor's eyes are shut tight, and his words are weak yet clipped. "I'm— I'm good ," he says between small gasps.

He's trembling violently now, a somewhat familiar sight to Hermie but no less alarming for it. It still feels strange to see Taylor falling into this kind of panic, especially out here on stage, but they don’t have time to dwell on it.

“I really don’t think you’re—“ Normal starts, only for Taylor to cut him off.

“I’m good!” he snaps.

“Well, I’m not,” Hermie interjects, really leaning into the natural whine of their voice, “you have wildly overhyped this whole ‘trick-or-treating’ experience, and I’m tired, it’s cold out, and I’d like to go back to the house.”

“But we—“ Taylor stutters. “You haven’t been having fun?”

Trying to change the topic. Classic Taylor.

“It’s been fine. I forgot how wonderful it is to be ignored by all of you at once.”

Maybe a bit too harsh. Hermie hadn’t really been trying to incorporate themself, all too content to stew in their self-righteous anger rather than do anything about it. And it’s that same stewing that got them into this situation in the first place. They should have turned this metaphorical car around a long time ago.

“Hey, can you not be a dick right now?” Scary snaps, stepping between Hermie and Taylor as if she expected them to take a lunge at him.

Hermie could continue to be a dick— they’re very good at it— but that isn’t really their goal right now. They hold their hands up placatingly, meeting Scary’s eye and hoping she gets the point.

“Since you asked so nicely…” Hermie says, trailing off deliberately. “I still want to go back to the house, though.”

Scary blinks, posture loosening a bit. Good. They don’t particularly care what Scary thinks of them at this point— she’s already seen the worst of them, and for all the fun they’ve had together, they know it’s hopeless— it’s good to have her on their side.

“I’m with you there, actually,” Scary says, shrugging as she turns back to Taylor.

“No! No, we should keep going! Let’s keep going!” Taylor says frantically. It could almost be mistaken for excitement.

“I think Hermie has a point, actually—“ Link starts, sputtering to a stop when Taylor pulls himself out of his grip as if burnt.

“No! I’m having fun, aren’t you guys having fun?” Taylor insists, turning on his heel and marching down the street away from them.

“Well, yeah, I just…” Normal tries, voice fading out as Taylor storms off.

“I’ll go get him,” Link offers, turning to follow Taylor.

“Forget it,” Hermie scoffs, glaring at Taylor’s retreating back. “If he wants to work himself into a panic attack, he can go ahead. See if I care.”

“You don’t mean that,” Normal says, sounding hurt on Taylor’s behalf. “Besides, it’s not really that bad, is it?”

“Don’t act like you know anything about what I do and don’t mean,” Hermie snaps, fighting down the urge to lean into their more demonic traits in their anger. “You’re the last one I want to hear that shit from.”

Normal steps back as if struck, opening his mouth to respond before Scary beats him to it.

“Just fucking go if you’re gonna be such a dick!” Scary snaps, stepping between Normal and Hermie. “If you hate us so much, why are you even here?”

Hermie snarls, refusing to be cowed. She does make a good point, but—

Someone screams. No, not just someone, Hermie knows exactly who that is. The defensive anger and spite drains out of them in an instant as they brush past Scary and Normal and head in the direction of the shout.

Taylor had turned the corner, apparently, down a dead end street that’s mostly yard and unnecessarily large houses. As soon as Hermie turns the corner to follow, they see the source of the issue.

Their first thought is that this is stupid , which they immediately feel bad about. It’s a fairly elaborate decoration of wires and lights that turn on and off in a set sequence that plays out a simple scene. A brown horse rears up, and its rider’s head tumbles from his shoulders. It’s the sort of thing Hermie wouldn’t have looked twice at, except maybe to point out how poorly the darkness hides the unlit sections of the decoration.

It’s not doing much to hide Taylor either, who stands before the decoration with Link at his shoulder. He’s nearly frozen except for the way he’s shaking, and Hermie can see the way his shoulders hitch with each ragged breath even from here.

He's got his hands clasped around his neck, and Link is saying something to him too soft for Hermie to hear, and it doesn't seem to have any effect, since Taylor is crumbling to the ground and curling in on himself in a second. Link sits with him, and Hermie recalls a certain time they left Link alone with an anxious Taylor.

Just as Hermie's about to approach, two sets of footsteps catch up to and rush past them.

" Taylor! " Normal shouts with worry, but his intentions ultimately backfire once more when Taylor flinches at the sound. "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

Taylor opens his mouth to respond and a few squeaky sounds escape him, nothing more.

Hermie steps closer, attempting to shoot Normal a stop overwhelming him look, but it goes unnoticed. Of course.

"Taylor, hey, it's okay, just take a deep breath," Link says, hands hovering cautiously in front of Taylor, whose breathing is only getting more strained and quick with time.

His eyes are wide and his gaze is fixed on the dead, yellowish grass beneath him.

Hermie has only really seen Taylor's anxiety spike at the house, and they're almost certain Taylor isn't familiar with it affecting him in public at all. And that's only making it worse.

Taylor draws his knees to his chest and buries his head in them with his hands still on his neck, and Hermie can hear the painfully familiar sound of strangled sobs between uncontrollable gasps. Focused on Taylor as they are, they don’t even notice the stranger approaching until their hand is on Hermie’s shoulder.

“Do you— is he okay?” the stranger asks. She’s an adult, an equally concerned-looking child in full costume trailing behind her but keeping their distance. If only their mother had the same common sense.

“He’s fine,” Hermie snaps, shrugging off her hand. “I mean— he’s not, obviously, but I can handle this.”

“Wh— Hermie, has this happened before? Is— is Taylor okay?” Normal fusses, glancing back and forth between Taylor and Hermie.

“Yes, no, and you’re not helping,” Hermie says, probably a bit more sharply than necessary. “Back off.”

Hermie pays no further mind to Normal, instead kneeling down in front of Taylor. The amount of heat radiating off him would be enough cause for concern on its own. Hermie is almost worried about the grass below him catching fire, but that’s a situation that they’ll deal with when and if it comes up.

For now, they cast a quick glare towards Link. He seems reluctant to back off, but eventually he does, standing back up and squeezing himself between Taylor and Normal.

With that dealt with and Scary intercepting the woman from earlier, Hermie can focus their full attention on Taylor. Despite how much they want to flinch away from the heat, they reach out to put their hands on either of Taylor’s arms. Taylor shudders a bit at first, before curling forward to rest his head against Hermie’s shoulder. He whines, and Hermie can feel hot tears hitting their shoulder, and Taylor's fully hyperventilating now, and falling apart in their arms. Hermie doesn’t feel equipped to hold him together, but they don’t have any choice but to try anyway.

(A small voice in the back of their mind tells them that they do have a choice, that they don’t have to be here, that Link and the others could handle this and it wouldn’t matter to them even if they didn’t, but they refuse to acknowledge it.)

“Hey, hey, Taylor,” Hermie says softly. Their voice never sounds like their own when they talk like this, but it helps to calm Taylor and that’s all that matters at the moment. “Can you hear me, Tay?”

Taylor nods feebly against their chest, and then shakes his head. A bit of a confusing response, but it is a response, so that’s a good sign if nothing else. They wrap their arms around Taylor properly, running one hand along his back while the other grabs one of the hands Taylor has still clawing at his own neck.

Taylor squeezes their hand hard , and Hermie fights down a flinch. His nail length fluctuates with the way Hermie's seen him biting at them in the past, but right now they're long, and they might be piercing Hermie's skin, but that's no cause for concern when there's a bigger problem at hand.

"I'm right here, okay? Just focus on me," they say, and Taylor nods a second time, somehow smaller and weaker than before. “Do you remember how to— nevermind, just breathe with me, okay? In, two, three, four, five…”

Hermie squeezes Taylor’s hand feebly, taking in an exaggeratedly deep breath in time with their counting. Taylor tries to follow, but he ends up sucking in a breath for barely a second and holding it for another before letting it out, and he whines again, and there's a slight chance the grass may have caught fire now with the heat and the light in Hermie's peripheral, but Scary stomps it out in a second.

"You're okay, just keep breathing," Hermie hums in that same unfamiliar softness, bringing their free hand to take Taylor's other hand away from his neck. With the sharpness of his nails right now, it's no surprise when Hermie feels a little blood trickling down the back of his neck—they'll handle that later.

The hand wraps around and claws at their back, hugging Hermie tight and quite possibly staining their costume with blood.

If this weren't Halloween, there'd surely be even more panic in this yard from the unwanted witnesses.

"You're safe," Hermie says, though the increasing noise of worried adults makes them cringe. The relief came too soon, it seems.

"We've got it under control," Scary tells them, "Just—give us space. Now ."

Her voice is cutting and harsh, and the concerned chatter dies down immediately. Taylor flinches a little at the sound of her voice, and Hermie gently shushes him, running their hand along his back.

“You’re alright, it’s okay, I’ve got you,” Hermie soothes. “Keep breathing, you’re okay…”

Hermie keeps counting and breathing and soothing until at last, Taylor's breathing slows. His grip loosens ever so slightly, and with the pressure fading it leaves room for pain. Taylor’s got a hell of a grip, but it’s nothing Hermie can’t handle.

"Any better?" they ask, gently carding their fingers through Taylor's… wig. Right. Hermie nearly forgot about that.

God they hate the texture of synthetic hair. Luckily, It doesn’t seem to be doing much for Taylor either, so they lower their hand to rest it on his shoulder.

"Uhh…mhm…" Taylor nods.

"We're gonna go back now, okay?" they say, and Taylor lifts his head the tiniest bit. His face is red and puffy beneath his running makeup, and his eyes are half lidded and teary.

"Ss.. suh…sorr…" he mumbles and scrunches his face up with a little squeak.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay, Taylor," Hermie hugs him tighter, sparing a glance to Link who's already knelt down beside them ready to pick Taylor up. "Let's go home."

"Taylor, I'm gonna pick you up, okay?" Link says, putting a hand on Taylor's back. Hermie sees his eyes widen when his gaze flickers to Taylor's neck, but he schools his expression fairly quickly.

"Mmhmm…" Taylor mumbles, pulling away from Hermie and turning to Link.

Link scoops him up, and Hermie feels a tug at their arm. They glance down and see Taylor's tail wrapped around their wrist.

Well. They suppose they'll be attached to Taylor the whole way home then. At least they have enough wiggle room to retrieve Taylor’s cane.

Taylor curls up in Link's arms, pressing his face into Link's chest and whining quietly. Hermie follows close behind, closer than they would if they had their choice of position. As if their proximity to Link wasn’t enough, Normal squeezes in next to their other side, placing a hand on their shoulder.

“Hey— um, are you okay?” Normal asks quietly, leaned in close enough that Hermie can feel his breath on their ear.

“What? Of course,” Hermie says.

“There’s blood…”

“Not mine,” Hermie scoffs, even if they’re not entirely sure whether or not that’s the truth. Taylor had one hell of a grip on them.

“Oh… then Taylor…?”

“I’ve got him,” Link cuts in, a soft murmur half-buried in Taylor’s hair. Taylor hums an agreement.

“Okay! Good! Good…” Normal trails off, brows furrowed.

Hermie glances at him, and it’s immediately obvious what’s bothering him; he didn’t end up helping at all. In fact, he was only making things worse until Link intercepted him. The part of Hermie that’s still all mushy from their comforting role wants to offer Normal some sort of reassurance, but they bite it back.

“You were… that was nice. What you did. With Taylor,” Normal says, running his hand along the back of his neck.

“Especially after you said you wouldn’t care if he worked himself up into a panic attack,” Scary mumbles.

“Shut up,” Hermie snips half heartedly, glancing at Taylor. Taylor doesn’t seem to have heard her, which is relief.

Most of the walk home is spent in silence, only occasionally interrupted by Taylor’s soft whines and Link’s soothing hums. Normal and Scary trail behind the three of them, exchanging hushed words that Hermie doesn’t care to make sense of.

Once they reach the front porch, Taylor's tail unwraps from Hermie's wrist in favour of Link's leg, so Hermie doesn't have much trouble fishing the house key out of their pocket and unlocking the door. They swing it open, bowing with a wide sweeping motion towards the open doorway.

“Thanks,” Link says softly, meeting Hermie’s eye when they look up. They can tell he’s talking about more than just the door. Theatrics unacknowledged and under-appreciated as usual, Hermie straightens up.

“Whatever,” they say, with a shrug. Link nods, and carries Taylor inside.

"Are your pyjamas in your room?" Hermie hears Link ask, and the rest of their conversation is too distant to make out.

Scary follows, glaring over her shoulder like she’s worried a mob of concerned parents are going to follow them in. Luckily, none of the thinning crowd of parents and trick-or-treaters seem to care about them at all. Normal trails after her, meeting Hermie’s eyes for a brief moment and offering them a shy smile. Hermie rolls their eyes and shuts the door behind them.

Link has disappeared upstairs with Taylor, with Normal and Scary left lingering in the living area. Hermie brushes past them into the kitchen, retrieving a pot from the cupboard and a jug of apple cider from the fridge. They quickly scan the label to double (triple) check for any allergens or anything else against the dietary restrictions of the group, but nothing has shown up since the last time they checked.

“Normal,” they call, and they barely have to raise their voice before Normal is all-but-sprinting into the kitchen.

“Hey Hermie, what’s up?”

They pour the cider into the pot and place it on the stove, cranking up the heat.

“Make sure this doesn’t explode while I get changed,” Hermie instructs, and they don’t elaborate before leaving the kitchen for their room.

“Yeah! Yeah, I can definitely do that!” Normal calls, and then quieter, “um, Scary?”

“It’s apple cider, doofus, it’s not gonna explode,” Scary says as Hermie heads upstairs. “Hermie was just trying to make you feel…”

And Hermie does not hear the conclusion of that sentence before they slam their door shut. That’s for the best, they decide; they don’t need to hear Scary dissect their character motivations.

Because there weren’t any motivations beyond ‘I don’t want to burn the house down right now and I always exercise utmost kitchen safety’.

It had nothing to do with giving Normal a task so he wouldn’t feel so useless. He was useless and Hermie couldn’t care less about how he felt.

Whatever. Hermie strips out of their costume and their horns and tail fall back into place. Taylor’s claws have left crescent-moon cuts along the back of their hand, but they’re hardly even bleeding, so Hermie licks away the blood and calls it there. They change into their pyjamas, and keep an ear out for Link and Taylor leaving the other room before sneaking in and depositing Taylor’s cane on the hook beside his bed. They figure they’ll probably sleep in the basement tonight anyways, and if absolutely necessary Hermie can run back upstairs to retrieve it themself.

Hermie allows themself a brief moment of peace backstage. God , they’re tired. They hadn’t realised until they had taken their bow. Almost every part of them is pulling them back towards their room, to lay down in bed and never interact with anyone ever again, but somehow, the voice of Normal calling them from downstairs is louder.

They take a deep breath, and return to the stage.

“What is it, Normal?” Hermie asks as they descend the stairs.

“Um, is it supposed to be boiling?” Normal asks, pointing at the pot. Scary is conspicuously absent.

“No, not really,” Hermie sighs, picking up the pace a bit. “Did you turn up the heat?”

“Um… n— yeah… I did,” Normal admits, and when Hermie doesn’t immediately respond, he continues. “It just— it wasn’t getting hot!”

“Because it’s a lot of liquid, it’ll take time for it all to heat up!” Hermie nudges Normal out of the way as they turn the heat off. “Go get a hot pad, they’re over in the drawer by the oven.”

Normal dutifully retrieves a hot pad, and places it on the counter by the stove. Hermie brings the sleeve of their pyjama shirt up over their hand to lift the pot and place it on the hot pad. Now that there’s no risk of it boiling over, Hermie breathes out a sigh and starts retrieving the necessary mugs from the cabinet.

“So… um… you said that that had happened before?” Normal says, quiet and cautious as if he thinks that speaking too loudly of it will make it happen again.

“I was talking about the other thing,” Hermie denies without even thinking about it.

“… no you weren’t,” Normal says slowly. “You said yes to my first question and no to the second one. And besides, you were… you were really good with him, like you knew what to do!”

“I’m fantastic at all theatrical arts, including improv.”

“Hermie!” Normal snaps. “I'm worried, so can you stop being all— like that and just give it to me straight?”

“Doing things straight isn’t really my area of expertise,” Hermie quips, because Normal really walked right into that one.

“Hermie!”

“Fine, god, yes, Taylor has had a panic attack before!” Hermie sighs, aggravated. “Despite what you seem to like to think, you’re not the only one who was traumatised by all that shit!”

“I don’t—“ Normal shouts, before lowering his voice. “I don’t think that!”

“You thought it all just bounced off him, didn’t you? You all did.”

“Well, can you blame me?”

Hermie could. They were pretty damn good at blaming people for all sorts of things that weren’t actually their fault, but… god, they really just don’t have the energy.

“I guess not,” Hermie sighs. “He’s a pretty good actor if you don’t know his tells.”

“And you do…” Normal trails off.

“Of course I do,” Hermie agrees. “Like recognizes like, and I live with the guy.”

“Right, that makes sense…” Normal is quiet for a few moments while Hermie sets up the mugs across the counter and starts dividing the cider between them.

“Do you think— like, is he okay? Just in general?”

“Are any of us?” Hermie shrugs, and Normal chuckles sadly.

“I guess that’s a good point…” Normal agrees. “… are you doing okay? As okay as any of us could be doing, I mean. Cm You never really respond to my texts, and I ask Taylor, but...”

“Unreliable narrator,” Hermie agrees, filling in the blanks. They do not continue.

“Yeah… so…?”

“So what?”

“Hermie! Come on!”

Hermie laughs tiredly, “does it matter?”

“Of course it does, Hermie! I’m worried about you!”

“Don’t be,” Hermie snaps, but there’s no real fire behind it. “I’m alive, despite my own and the universe’s best efforts.”

“You make it really hard not to be worried about you when you say stuff like that!” Normal says, taking a step towards Hermie. Hermie cuts him off by shoving a mug of cider into his hands.

“Everyone else has managed. All of this,” Hermie gestures at themself, “is self contained. If you don’t like the performance, the exit is to your left.”

“I… jeez, Hermie—“

“Come on,” Hermie says, shoving another couple of mugs into his hands. Normal takes them, but the worried expression doesn’t leave his face. Hermie ignores it, and leads the way down to the basement.

Link has already settled into place in the middle of the couch, with Taylor half on his lap and curled up against him. They're both in pyjamas, but Taylor's still got a full face of tear-smudged makeup on. Hermie sighs and rolls their eyes, setting down the mugs on the table. With their hands free, they unzip Taylor's go-bag and fish through it. Vaguely they register the noise of Scary descending the stairs to join them, but Hermie ignores it.

They find the makeup wipes without much issue, pull a few out of the pack, sit beside Taylor and try to lift him up from where he's lying in Link's lap.

Taylor whines and turns away from Hermie, burying his face in Link's pyjama pants. Hermie thinks they can hear a small and muffled "nooo."

"Let me take your makeup off. Then you can lie back down without it getting everywhere."

Taylor whines again, and Link assists Hermie by gently lifting him up and tilting him toward them.

They take his glasses off and Link holds onto them, and then they wipe the makeup off as gently as possible while still getting all of it off. It's not unlike Taylor to forget or forgo this step when he's too drained or achey—at least he didn't leave his contacts in. Hermie probably has Link to thank for that.

Taylor's face scrunches up as Hermie wipes the makeup off. Probably because the wipes are cold and wet and not the most comfortable thing when you're warm and cozy, but it's better than staining everything and fucking up your skin. Not that Hermie would care about the last part in particular, but still.

“There you go,” Hermie mumbles as they wipe off the last of it.

They bump their head gently against Taylor’s before pulling back… or at least attempting to. While Hermie was distracted, Taylor’s tail returned to its position around their wrist.

“My spot is over there,” Hermie whines, tugging gently at Taylor’s tail but not making any real attempt to pull free. As they glance mournfully at their spot, they realise Scary and Normal are staring at them, looking two parts confused and one part surprised. Normal’s face flushes when they meet his eyes, and Hermie quickly looks away.

Taylor whines something along the lines of ‘punishment for getting my face wet when I was comfy’, but none of it is actually words. Unwilling to make a further scene of it, they sigh and settle down beside Taylor, letting him bury his feet beneath their thighs.

Normal and Scary linger in front of the couch for a while, before Scary elbows Normal and moves over to sit on Link’s other side, which leaves Normal to squeeze in between Hermie and the armrest. He’s being very careful not to touch them, and Hermie stretches just a bit to knock their legs together. His tension was palpable, and Hermie is very glad to feel it loosen as soon as they make contact.

For their own sake, of course.

“Oh!” Link says softly from Hermie’s other side. “Do you have any more makeup wipes?”

Hermie produces the last one from their pocket, and holds it out for Link.

“You sure you don’t want me to do it?” Hermie teases, and Link immediately grimaces as he takes the wipe.

“Yeah, no, I’m good. That’s weird.”

Hermie snorts and leaves it there. They retrieve the remote from its place on the back of the couch. Usually, they’d hand it to Taylor and let him take over, but considering the way he’s still barely even looking at the screen, he doesn’t really seem up to it.

“Any suggestions?” Hermie says as they turn on the TV. Everyone replies with a chorus of vague, noncommittal mumbles. “Great.”

They open up Netflix and scroll through the list they prepared for the night, but most of their selections are actual horror movies, which don’t seem appropriate after the night’s events. Once they eliminate anything actually scary, they don’t have too much left to choose from, but The Nightmare Before Christmas seems like a safe bet. Hermie isn’t entirely sure if Taylor had inherited his father and sort-of-grandfather’s Christmas spirit, but it’s a fun movie either way. Nobody complains when they select it, so they hit play and settle in.

The movie plays with little chatter from everyone. Taylor is curled up against Link's chest, and Hermie thinks he might be asleep.

But then they hear his breath hitch, and they look over immediately to see Link shifting Taylor to face him rather than stay buried in his pyjama shirt.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly, bringing his thumb to wipe a tear off Taylor's cheek.

"'M sorry…" Taylor mumbles to Link.

"For what?"

As an answer, Taylor only whines, and his breathing picks up again, and more tears start sliding down his cheeks.

Scary's torn her gaze from the TV, and she's got it locked on Link hugging Taylor—the sympathy in her eyes is something Hermie's only caught glimpses of before.

Normal is looking directly at Hermie, concerned and expectant. They don’t love being relied upon, but at least it’s better than Normal rushing in himself and overwhelming Taylor again. They hold up a hand in a stay there gesture, before returning their attention to Taylor.

Link is shushing and soothing Taylor as his sobs get louder, with one hand on his back and another in his hair, and Taylor mumbles something into his chest that's barely coherent, but Hermie pieces it together.

"...ruined Halloween…" he slurred between sobs.

So that's what he's sorry for.

Link's mouth is slightly agape, and judging by the look on his face, Hermie is almost certain he has no idea what Taylor just said.

"You didn't ruin Halloween," Hermie reassures, hoping they sound more sympathetic than exhausted. They certainly feel exhausted.

Link glances up at Hermie, apparently surprised by their translation, before he nods quickly and squeezes Taylor gently.

“Yeah! It’s fine! It may not have gone super great, but you still gave me the chance to go trick-or-treating!”

“‘s even worse!” Taylor sobs. “It was your first and maybe only time trick-or-treating and it was awful!”

“I wouldn’t have done it at all if not for you!” Link tries, sending Hermie a frantic look.

Hermie grimaces, but leans over to press their side against Taylor’s. It also means they’re snuggled up against Link’s arms, which Hermie is sure both of them could do without, but for now they’re willing to call truce for the sake of Taylor.

“Exactly. Besides, it’s not like you went out there with the intention of…” having a severe panic attack and almost starting a small suburban lawn fire, “all that. It’s not your fault.”

“‘s stupid,” Taylor sniffles, tugging Hermie a bit closer with his tail. There’s not much force behind it, but Hermie takes the hint and turns towards Taylor, wrapping him fully in a hug.

“No it’s not,” Link says.

“Hey, maybe, but the world's stupid and things happen,” Hermie says at the same time.

“I shouldn’t have…” Taylor mumbles, weak and muffled.

“None of us should have,” Hermie agrees, and hopes Taylor can make sense of the implication.

Of course Taylor shouldn’t have had a panic attack over a series of cheap Halloween decorations, but he did, and it was the result of some eldritch generational trauma that none of them ever should have had to deal with in the first place.

Taylor mumbles noncommittally, snuggling further into Link and Hermie’s embrace. Hermie settles more comfortably against the two of them, resigning themself to staying there for the rest of the night, potentially.

After the first movie reaches its conclusion, Scary has leaned against Link’s other arm. It isn’t until Hermie is half asleep an hour or two later that Normal finally works up the courage to cuddle in against them. Despite how tempted they are to tease, Taylor’s breathing has finally steadied out beneath them and they aren’t about to risk waking him. They keep their eyes shut, and adjust their own position so Normal can fit more comfortably against them.

They’re all bound to wake up sore and awkward tomorrow morning, but for now they’re cosy and comfortable, so Hermie, at least, is content to leave that problem for tomorrow.

#dndads halloween week 2023 #dndads #the mortifying ordeal of being roommates #fic #cookies writes and cookies wrongs #angst #hurt/comfort

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cat-shouty-13 · 24 days

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I may be cringe but I am free

Magical girl benbaro au !

I love them and I love magical girls so I make content that appeals to me only :)

Lepus (the genus for hares)

Albert is just a cute design, he's fluffy and has bells that jingle. His glasses are purposely over sized here as a sort of mask/identity hider

Fun fact: in doing this design I realized that Juliet sleeves are my one true love and I will put them on more people <3

Reaper (I hope the name reason is obvious)

The skirt is just Cure Finale's skirt but it's a great design and I think it suits him. The torso draping's are meant to look like ribs. He still has his boots because I like them and also because it would feel wrong if he didn't have them. His mask has little fang-like protrusions because vampire

Lore Time !

So ! Albert and Barok both have little mascot creatures called Standards (like the flag) Albert's is a hare called Helle and Barok's is a skeleton/reaper called Angel.

People who transform and use the Standards magic are called Champions, so Albert is the current Hare Champion and Barok is the current Skeleton Champion.

When transformed, Champions can give people a kind of magical stupidity, this just prevents people who know them from recognizing them. It manifests in a Champion just looking like a completely different person (this different person is actually just the human form of their Standard)

For example Reaper looks and sounds like a tall, slender woman with straight, black hair to everyone else but himself and other Champions. To himself and other Champion he looks and sounds like himself (the way he looks in the above designs). His mask is purely so that other Champions don't see his scar and have the chance to work out that he is Barok van Zieks dispite the magical stupidity.

Their weapons are a scythe for Reaper (very creative I know) and a pair of pistols for Lepus (like the dualies from splatoon).

Lepus can control electricity to a degree and can also teleport to any place he's been before or any place within sight (super high voltage instantaneous kinesis is real now). Reaper can control blood but he has to have an access point, if that makes sense. Essentially, if someone has an open wound he could just take that blood and use it in the same way most magical girls with water powers use water.

I do have more lore but I feel like I should put that in a separate post

Anyway ! Yippee magical girls !

#albert harebrayne #barok van zieks #benbaro #the great ace attorney #magical girl au

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why-is-thinking-so-hard · 1 month

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now we actually start

⚠️spoilers for mean girls obviously⚠️

it gets long again, but I swear there is actual superhero cadina au info, I actually got into the au not just how I came up with the au.

also a word of warning, when I was trying to figure non spidey au cady's backstory and powers, I made a joke about cady being bitten by a radioactive lion and my friend went crazy for it so we ran with it. I know its absolutely wild, but I think I made it actually work so bear with me.

general cady superhero non-spidey cadina au details

yes, cady was bitten by a radioactive lion so she has lion powers and shit; super strength/1000psi bite force, super agility/36 foot horizontal leap, yell real loud/roar, night vision, super senses, 46 mph top speed, claws because who doesn't love a woman with claws; these aren't really powers, but her head hair gets a lot more volume after the bite which is cool but on the downside the rest of her body hair starts getting kinda thick- its not super super thick, its just thicker than it was-, she needs more sleep, she has this need to consume a lot of raw meat and also hunt live animals

cady was bitten by the lion in Kenya before the move stateside, actually it was what prompted the move. I have this idea that the lion was some military experiment that her dad worked on and got killed while working on it(not by the lion, by one of his coworkers, im actually quite attached to the lion and the idea of the lion escaping capture and living a normal lion life). This is what prompts cady's mom to move them and cady to use her powers(once she discovers them) to help people like her father would've wanted and also get revenge on the people that killed him while she's at it.

janis and Damian find out about cady's powers because the school janitor dragged her, mouse in her mouth, to them and asked, "is she one of yours?" this is also two days after they meet so they were very close to saying no

when she starts out with the hero thing, she cuts holes in a bandana and wears some very basic clothes, but once janis finds out, she sets out to make cady a suit. janis even does research about body armor to make it protective. the suit itself is (once again, @tatsuyam , not a fursuit) more like a supersuit so its built for movement and fighting, but it has touches of janis' art and is inspired by Kenya and lions. in the way that it has ears and a tail. because her hero name is lioness. what with her powers being lion based and all. in the words of edna mode, "no capes."

Damian helps cady come up with all the snappy one liners a hero needs and also overcome anxiety that comes with saving the general populace and having to talk to them and having to act confident, he helps her come up with her persona, her act if you will

there's a rumor around the school that the person in the mascot suit is lioness but cady hates it because she refuses to go near that thing after janis told her nobody washes it and then regina told her about the time she and Shane fucked in that thing

I will get into regina once I figure out what powers she would have

#mean girls #mean girls 2024 #cadina #superhero cadina au #mostly superhero cady heron #but hey I actually got into the au

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idsfantasy · 2 months

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William the Nurse? Fallfest Theory Part 2

So, after my last Ask, I’ve been thinking about the Carnival Nurse. It’s interesting that she only appears in one game mode, the Patch Up for Helpy. Furthermore, it’s interesting that the animatronics in this game mode are Lefty, Scrapbaby, and Pig Patch (and Helpy, but he’s not directly important).

TLDR: What if William Afton was a medical professional from the UK, who came to the US seeking a new entertainment profession, and the Pig Patch mini game in Help Wanted 2 is a symbolic retelling of his medical experiments of children at the Fallfest Carnival?

**For a theory refresher**:

- Fallfest was being run by Mrs. Afton’s family (before she was an Afton, so I refer to her as Clara for convenience) for generations, possibly since the 1930’s with the Fredbear singing show, with her also doing ballet tight-rope performances.

- Henry Emily was working as an engineer for the carnival attractions, likely creating Carny and Mystic Hippo, alongside the musical melodies and Fazband.

- William Afton was a British man who immigrated to the US to pursue the entertainment industry (hence why all his children grew up with British accents). He would help Henry create the characters of the musical melodies, mascot outfits, pring Bonnie and Fredbear, and the Fazbear characters (who we see eventually play at Fallfest 1983 according to the HW2 crane game).

Back to Carnival Nurse. It’s interesting that she is... well, a *carnival nurse*, in the Pizzeria Simulator location. In a game mode that has carnival themed characters (Lefty is just reskinned Carnie, Pig Patch is a musical melody member of the Carnival, and Scrapbaby is a clown, and we know that William Afton built two businesses based on circuses).

[Side note: FuhNaff pointed out that the Silver Eyes novels had mentioned William and Henry having books on the Circus]

It’s also interesting that we don’t actually *know* what William Afton was doing in the UK before he moved to the US. I say he came to the US because he wanted to enter the entertainment industry… but what if that wasn’t what he was doing before?

Gibi postulates that William Afton only thought about the mysteries of the human body after studying yoga gurus that were mentioned in FNAF 1 in hidden sounds, which is where he learned about the idea of combining metal and flesh for remnant.

I don’t disagree… but I think William has ALWAYS been interested in the human body. What if he was a medical professional in the Uk and used his talents here?

Because, beyond working as a Mascot performer and businessman with Henry and Clara, William could possibly have been a nurse or doctor AT the Fallfest Carnival.

It makes a certain amount of sense for how he became a genius with experimenting on children, not just in stuffing them into suits, but in creating technology that targets their minds (nightmare experiments) and in trying to recreate human physiology (Sister Location faces we see in the main room).

We always assumed his experiments started with his own kids, but what if he actually took an interest in the kids whom Helpy represents? The injured ones who were sent to his medical tent.

The carnival nurse voice lines are very interesting, because they are all easy ways for William to pick up unsuspecting children to experiment on.

What is even more damning is that these injured children actually stop being “injured” at some point: general neglect, parental neglect, and “unclassified trauma”.

What does **THAT** mean? Unclassified trauma???

What I think it means is that William slowly went from treating injured children to grabbing and sedating any child who was vulnerable with the 1970’s equivalent of the gas mask we see in Help Wanted 2, possibly just outright grabbing a kid who was alone in the case of “unclassified trauma”. Possibly as his Spring Bonnie mascot character…

As I’m typing this, a dark realization occurs.

Helpy, screaming as he makes too much noise, attracts “unwanted attention”.

What if, symbolically, this is meant to express how much work William was doing to avoid having his various carnival colleagues from noticing that his medical treatments were… morally unorthodox (aka cruel and unusual).

I don’t expect this to be 100% accurate, but it could possibly answer a lot of potential Fallfest questions.

It would rely on a lot of information we don't have yet but it's an interesting idea

#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #help wanted 2 #fnaf help wanted 2 #william afton #henry emily #fnaf helpy #helpy #answered asks

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therobotmonster · 10 months

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Power Armor Stuff it seems weird Fallout 4 didn't have

I'm feeling ramble-y.

Junk/Salvage Armor Types for the Minutemen, Railroad, Children of Atom, and Atom Cats. With the role power armor plays, variants of the "Raider" type for other factions with slightly different stats but very different aesthetics would have seemed a no-brainer. (That and making all the paint jobs work on all the models so you can mix-and-match your look, but hey.)

Minuteman armor would be junk-y but cleaner than raider armor and with revolutionary touches to the plating. The face-shield of the helmet would be repurposed from a destroyed minuteman statue, and the helmet would have a tri-corn hat design. It would have the option for a backpack mod for the chest for extra storage, since transporting supplies is part of the whole "help-the-commonwealth" ethos.

Railroad Armor would be locomotive themed and designed around fighting robots and synths. Special options for a stealth chest mod that would give a big bonus against robots/synths with a lesser one to other enemy types. Railroad paint job provides protection against energy weapons, etc.

Children of Atom armor would be like raider armor but made of higher-tech parts, while being more ramshackle, with glowing green chunks of exposed power source visible in the armor. Rad-emitter mod. Has almost no radiation shielding.

Atom Cat Armor would be made of car parts. Exhaust pipes, bumper-shoulders, basically think an Autobot not designed to transform and made out of a muscle car. The Atom cat paint deco should be as shiny and clean as imaginable without looking completely out of place.

And while not faction-based, a raider armor type that clads their armor in repurposed super-mutant armor is just... so obvious.

As for DLC Power Armor:

How is it that the Rust Devils don't have an armor type built from robot parts? How does the faction of robot-obsessed weirdos not have robot power armor?

And imagine how cool it would be if the custom power armor for Nuka world was an anamatronic park mascot armor? Cartoony Nuka-Bear Head, the kids would love it.

You could put the Children of Atom armor in Far Harbor, but the lack of a diving suit armor is striking.

Some of these could just be specific parts, like helmets, but the power armor just seemed undercooked for how big of a mechanic it was.

And speaking of power armor, there should have been a power armor factory in/outside of Boston.

Or, if not a factory, a military depot specifically for power armor, or an armor-developing vault. This would be a higher-tier area, one you'd hear about in rumors. This is the first Fallout with a heavy power armor focus, and the first with salvaged/junk armor, so tying that to a regional abundance of armor makes sense and would put the concept front-facing in the story as well as the gameplay.

When you get there there's actually not much in the way of power armor left because you've been beaten to the punch... which is why every Tom, Dick, and Immorten Joe has power armor by the time you're high level. The Commonwealth has been raiding this place a bit at a time since the war, and the use and maintenance of power armor is now a part of the post-war society.

This could be its own area, or it could be a better use of Fort Strong (More power armor in the basement would be a big temptation for the Brotherhood, maybe unlock a new brotherhood armor style post-mission).

#power armor #fallout 4 #my druthers

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