#Eventually I always come back to Scooby Doo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oliverreedmasterass · 8 months

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Can you write like an aftermath of them playing MSG and just reeling from how amazing it was. And that they got to play their dream venue.

ADDISONNNNN this one got me emotional, damn! But here ya go!

Ready for the Garden

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: language, just a lot of emotions

The last notes of “Farewell For Now” surged from Jake’s guitar and, after basking in the feedback for long enough, his hands fell limply to his sides. Out of breath and plastered in sweat, he gazed out at the packed stadium in front of him. Madison Square Garden. Fucking Madison Square Garden. The crowd roared with cheers, many people holding hearts up to him from the pit. The past two hours felt surreal, like Jake had just blacked out and, at the last second, regained consciousness. He continued to stand on his side of the stage as Josh, Sam, and Danny prepared to make their grand exit, and stared down at the Gibson SG that hung from his shoulder, looking spent.

Jake first touched a guitar when he barely knew how to walk. Kelly was always getting scolded by Karen for leaving his musical instruments laying around the house, but he protested in the years to come that it was the best decision he had ever made. While Josh was busy with his wooden blocks and playing in their large backyard, Jake frequently found himself kneeling in front of his dad’s acoustic guitar, flicking the strings with his small hands. The twangy sound of the guitar vibrating always brought a joyful grin to Jake’s face, and he basked in the excitement of making special noise that he could control. As Jake grew older, he learned that he could place his fingers on the frets to make new sounds and, eventually, he graduated to holding the guitar upright in his lap, of course when Kelly gave him the greenlight.

Jake looked up from his guitar and returned his gaze back to the crowd. The people seemed to extend on forever, nearly reaching the rafters. Hanging off in the distance were the banners commemorating iconic performances over the years: Billy Joel, Harry Styles, and Phish, for some reason. Jake wondered if his band’s name would ever be up there one day. It didn’t need to be, he was living out his dream just stepping foot in the place, but he could still dream. He looked back down at his black boots and blew out an astonished breath. He was on the stage of one of the most famous arenas of all time. The history that was packed into the place was hardly fathomable.

Jake sat in front of the TV with the remote in his hand, trying to figure out which concert video he wanted to watch for the evening. His parents had an impressive collection of performances on VHS for him and his siblings to choose from, setting his family apart from all his friends who typically watched Disney classics and Scooby Doo cartoons. As Jake turned the remote in his hands, he realized that it was silly of him to be dwelling so much. There was one concert that he never grew tired of, no matter how many times he watched it.

“You’re watching The Song Remains the Same again?” Sam called to him from the kitchen as Jake hit “play” on the remote. “Didn’t you watch that last week?”

“It’s the way their music fills the stadium,” Jake tried to explain to Sam in words that he would understand. “It’s like magic. I want to play there one day and experience it for myself.”

“That would be neat,” Sam breathed out. Jake smiled that he and his younger brother were both on the same page, and patted the seat next to him. Sam bound over with a bowl of popcorn for them to share so they could witness the magic on screen.

He spent so many years dreaming of headlining a show at Madison Square Garden, and now it had finally happened. Jake was in the likes of The Who, The Rolling Stones, George Harrison, just about every legendary performer ever known to lead the charts over the years. Jake suddenly felt lonely in his spot on the stage, and remembered that he couldn’t stand out there forever, as much as he wanted to. He turned away from the crowd and, the second he could no longer see his dream in front of him, a sense of finality hit. Tears started to form in Jake’s eyes as he jogged up the steps to the main platform where Josh was waiting for him. The concert had come and gone faster than the blink of an eye. Jake yearned to play one more song but, at the same time, he was so overwhelmed with emotions, he just wanted to flop into a heap on the floor in their green room. Josh rushed to his side the second he noticed a tear splatter onto his jacket collar and laid a warm hand on his shoulder.

Jake still had no idea how he had managed to convince Josh to join his band. Granted, Josh did have an impressive set of pipes on him and he wasn’t shy to use them in his theater performances, but rock n’ roll had always been Jake’s thing. Following one of their long and arduous practice sessions after school, Josh stood over Jake as he carefully packed his guitar back into its case.

“Did you hear about that Eric Clapton contest?” Josh asked. Jake looked back at Josh and arched an eyebrow. Anything about any member of Cream immediately had his attention. “The winner gets to play on stage with him. You just have to submit audio of yourself playing and encourage people to vote for you. And, get this, it’s at Madison Square Garden.”

Jake was on his feet now. Everything Josh had just mapped out sounded like a goddamn dream, but the last part about playing on stage at Madison Square Garden made it seem too good to be true. Jake would give anything to show off his chops in front of a flabbergasted crowd, shredding like his life depended on it. Jake pictured himself, just 17 years old, on stage at the Garden. Butterflies flocked to his stomach and he reached for his guitar to get to recording. Josh was tickled by his immediate action, and headed for his room.

“I’ll write a tweet about this on the band account,” he said over his shoulder with a laugh.

“Are you okay?” Josh whispered into Jake’s ear. More tears were dropping from his eyes, but he didn’t want to wipe them away because it would be a dead giveaway to the crowd that he was up on stage, bawling like a child. The grin he gave Josh in return was much more accurate to how he was really feeling, and Josh seemed to take comfort in his response. “We did it,” he whispered to Jake, wrapping his arm around him. “We actually did it.”

“What the fuck,” was all Jake could choke out.

Sam joined them, his face bright and filled with delight.

“That was something else, wasn’t it?” he called over the sound of the crowd.

“You could say that,” Josh chuckled at his younger brother.

“I don’t remember the last time I was that terrified to play in front of a crowd,” Sam continued.

“I’m fucking terrified to go out there,” Sam squeaked as he peered out the curtain at the half-filled Fischer Hall.

“Sam, language!” Josh scolded him. “You’re, like, 13, you shouldn’t be talking like that.”

“I’m old enough to drop f bombs!” Sam protested. “Jake was saying all kinds of shit when he was my age!”

“That is true,” Jake pointed out.

Danny nodded knowingly. “I learned most of what I know from you.”

“How many people are out there, like a thousand?” Sam continued to worry from the wing of the small stage. Danny stood on his toes to look over Sam and then shook his head.

“I’d say twenty. Tops.”

“Can we postpone this? I think I have a stomach ache,” Sam tried.

“No,” Jake, Josh, and Danny were all fast to reply.

Jake wouldn’t admit it, but he was feeling just as nervous as Sam, if not more. It was their first actual gig at an actual place where playing music was at least semi-acceptable. This was no garage, backyard, or sidewalk show. This was the start of their career, and Jake could feel the weight on his shoulders. He and Josh were set to head to college in the fall, but Jake secretly hoped deep down that his band would do the unthinkable and take off. It was the one thing Jake had that felt right; school was always secondary in his life to music, so it seemed like the wrong thing to pursue. This concert was their chance to showcase their talent, get the recognition they deserved, and finally be put on the map.

“We’re gonna be fine,” Josh assured Sam.

Jake nervously wrung his hands, took in a deep breath, released, and then stepped out into the lights.

With his brothers by his side, Jake carefully made his way down the steps off the stage after giving a grand bow, and let the floodgates open the second he was out of the public eye. A few roadies looked at him with concern, but Danny, who Jake had lost on stage when he was caught in his head, hurried to him and smothered him in a massive hug.

“Jake!” he called out. “Your dream came true!”

Jake could only manage to make short hyperventilating noises as the drummer continued to smother him in his big, sweaty arms. His dream really did come true. Memories of the evening flashed through his mind, from his knotted stomach seconds before the curtain fell, to playing “Highway Tune” and musing at how far they had come, to hearing people begging for more leading up to their encore, to the stadium filling with a stunning glow of colors during “Light My Love.” It felt like something out of a fairytale. Jake leaned in deeper to Danny’s hug and, within seconds, Josh and Sam had joined the embrace so they could all revel in the moment.

Jake felt the smother of his brothers and shook his head in awe. Nine years ago, they formed Greta Van Fleet, now they were at the Garden. Their hard work had paid off. All of the things they had missed out on or given up to chase their dreams stung a little less. They had made it. They had actually made it.

Jake surprised himself when he was the first to break free from the group hug.

“Where do we go from here?” he found himself asking. They all looked around at each other in giddy eagerness.

“Pompeii,” Sam decided. “Like Pink Floyd.”

“I think a rooftop performance would be pretty cool,” Danny offered.

“You’re all thinking too small,” Josh waved them off. “I say we aim for the moon.”

That got everyone laughing.

“What do you think, Jakey?” Sam looked across at his older brother.

“It doesn’t matter to me,” Jake shrugged with a twinkle in his eye. “As long as I’m with you guys.”

#greta van fleet #gvf #gvf fic #gvf fanfic #gvf fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfiction #greta van fleet fanfic #greta van fleet fic #fic request #starcatcher #madison square garden #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner

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peachiime · 7 months

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why do you dislike the photography club?

honestly? it's because they're annoying. as game mechanics, they're a fun concept and would have been really great obstacles if they weren't executed the way they were (by that i mean with those lame ass AIs)

but as characters... uuuuuuuuuuuuuuughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

honestly, this whole game already feels like one big fat joke (and i know it started out as one! but then it eventually evolved into a serious game but kept all of the ridiculous elements and now its just underdeveloped!) but holy fucking shit THE SCOOBY DOO GANG???????? ARE YOU SERIOUS?????????????

devon couldn't even be bothered to make his own characters this time around. every time i hear about sukubi dubidu i want to rip out my eyes. i can't help but ask this fandom WHY they still decide to take that group seriously because i seriously cannot.

i've always had a problem with how dandelion just rips off characters and designs and aspects of his story and assets within the game from other sources, but this is just. it. this is where it crosses the line because these "characters" of his are so SHODDY. so LOW EFFORT. ITS SO PAINFUL. literally just give them actual names and different hairstyles and nobody would fucking know. just let them be as generic as every other npc in this godforsaken game.

i honestly contemplated bringing them back and reworking them for aaa like i did with ryuji and piichi, but it's really not worth it because i can't come up with any more personalities or designs. 100 people is enough thank you very much. besides i think theyre impossible to salvage atp

and i think the next question is why does ANYBODY like them???

#i feel very passionately about this topic my apologies #yandere simulator #yandere sim #yansim #not aaa related #my asks!!!

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cinamun · 1 year

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Well friends,

While things are happening in the background (TFA resumes shortly), we might as well dive into a chapter recap. At 21 chapters in, there is A LOT to account for. But this chapter was all about Hope (literally and figuratively).

Shall we?

And so it began.

Hope moved from the safety and comfort of her family to the foot of Mount Komorebi. She had always felt especially connected to that place and if you've read up to this point, you'll know why.

Appropriately titled "A New Journey", this chapter shows us all of the ups and downs of exploring new relationships, new surroundings and what happens to loved ones you leave behind in the process.

This chapter also introduced a new character. A popular Komorebian native, also an influencer and gym rat, Mr. Kenji Thomas:

He would be the spark that lit a match of doubt under Hope. Doubt that she would need to work her hardest to overcome while her beau, Jayce, was battling his own struggles and slowly drifting away from UBrite.

But then, one day, it happened.

Sure, it wasn't the literal second she turned 18, but it happened nonetheless. On a cold winter's night between terms at the base of Mount Komorebi, in a small village geared towards students studying abroad, in a teeny tiny apartment, Hope trusted Jayce with what is arguably the most valuable part of her and he did not disappoint.

That night would set off a chain of events that would eventually lead to their first place together, an epic proposal, wedding and honeymoon.

But not without them both first graduating from college.

Dira and DJ grew up into teenagers and became literal twins of their parents. Dira learned the hard way what it meant to be attracted to toxic muscle head men with big wheels. Sometimes you catch them getting brains in the bathroom behind your back.

DJ is learning now that size matters as his high school sweetheart refuses to go near him after a botched first-attempt at woo-hoo.

Dira seems to be getting closer to the nerdiest kid at CDHS and all of this while the most popular PR Firm in all the worlds deals with cleaning up the biggest scandal in recent memory, friends drift away and simulated life moves on for Indya and Darren Drake, the founders of all of this who now find themselves raising yet another young mind after a certain relative was profiled, yet again, by 12 and their cronies.

What began as a new journey, ended as a new journey. The start, a journey toward new beginnings and freedom. The end, a journey toward recovery and healing after the unthinkable occured just feet from Hope and Jayce's very first place.

and here we are... preparing for the aftermath after a series of very unfortunate events took place within the span of 10 minutes.

What a lot to unpack and probably the longest chapter yet. And while there is certainly more to come as the stage crew sets up for chapter 22, thank you thank you thank you, I get inspired by you and keep writing because of you, don't forget this gift for you and that's on scooby dooby doo, where are you.

-Cin

#story stuff #SPOILERS INSIDE!

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multifandomenjoyerr · 7 months

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hihi!! i was wondering if you could do some caretaker headcannons for kel from omori!! specifically for a puppy little, thank you thank you thank you!!

🍊

🍊 Caretaker Kel headcanons 🍊

🦕| ^^ CTKR!Kel flag 👉👈

⚠️| petnames, physical touch, leashes (even if completely sfw, I don't wanna make anyone unintentionally uncomfy)

🍊 ; loves to give you all of his attention! He loves to spoil you, baby you at times, and make sure he has everything for you to regress. He can also be pretty touchy since it's his love language. But if it's something that makes you uncomfortable he tries to tone it down the best of his ability

🍊 ; he carries around a separate bag other than his own, filled with things like toys, stuffed animals, little gear (if you like to use gear), stim toys If needed, and other things you may want/need

🍊 ; if you start crying, he goes through many stages within minutes. being surprise, fear/nervousness, comfort mode, crying (if fails to make you feel better), then goes back to comfort mode. He often is a crybaby when it comes to other people's emotions, especially negative ones

🍊 ; millions of petnames to go around! Which some being: pup/puppy/puppers and an ongoing one being "pubby" as a running gag. But he thought it was adorable, so he kept it on his list

🍊 ; he loves his pup! so if you're as active as he is, he will play with you with many of the toys he has collected overtime! Such as a tug toy, tennis balls and a small bell

🍊 ; and if you like to chase things, he will even kick his basketball around, letting you chase it and give it back to him.

🍊 ; has a puppy leash and a baby carrier. he gets worried alot, and doesn't want to have to get anxious when it comes to him taking you places. So, he usually has a leash so if you wanna do your zoomies, you are free to do so. If you're tired, or just don't wanna walk, he will keep you in his baby carrier

🍊 ; if you babble at all, he will always listen to your words. "Uhuh", "mhm..", "mm", "oh?", "Yeah?" He will just agree with you on everything you feel the need to say

🍊 ; it took him 6 months, but he saved up all his savings to get you a human sized doggy bed! In which he placed right beside his bed, so you can sleep near him at all times

🍊 ; he is protective over you because of his friends. He is used to being the middle child, and the more responsible one in his friend group. In so, he can be protective at all times. Not ever overprotective, but he has his moments in where he can be overboard at times with his paranoia

🍊 ; I have a headcanon he cried once because he made your stuffie "cry" and he was kicked out of the future stuffie playdates. He begged for forgiveness from your stuffie for hours, and he never really got over it (even if he eventually is allowed back into the playdates)

🍊 ; spoon cuddler. He loves cuddling you while you're laying down. Literally everytime you lay down he is ready to cuddle you and just.. take a nap with you

🍊 ; another random Headcanon, but once when he was waiting for a bus (and you were on the leash) he fell asleep standing up. He didn't even realize he was even asleep, and had a rude awakening. When your zoomies started to kick in, you ran. and since he has a tight grip on your leash, he might've took a tumble when you took off

🍊 ; he's okay though. even if he was very startled for awhile until he was fully awake that day

🍊 ; gets you endless snacks to mimic dog treats. Such as Scooby Doo crackers, gummy bones, yogurt melts, and pop tarts

#sfw agere #agerespace #safe agere #sfw interaction only #agere blog #headcanon #fandom agere #age regression #agere headcanons #omori kel #omori agere #Grey's Headcanons #sfw blog

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redisaid · 10 months

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The World Will Only Darken Without Candlelight - Chapter 1

The Fox and the Bird

Zelda thinks she’s in for a disappointing summer after she learns that she’s failed to get the highly competitive internship she wanted. That means she has to come back home…back to her father’s renaissance faire to be Princess Zelda for yet another year in a row. Only this year isn’t like all the rest, especially not with this weird new knight who's always following her around.

It’s a bird. It’s a plane. It’s a Hallmark Channel movie. It’s an episode of Scooby Doo. It’s a modern retelling of Breath of the Wild, but one where everyone works at a kinda shitty renaissance faire.

AKA, in which I fuck up again and start writing a new longfic for a fandom I don't normally write for. Oh, and it's another crackpot modern AU. This will also eventually be Zelink, because I can’t help myself after ToTK.

7040 Words

Read it on Ao3!

Shall we stay inside our shells, As the reaper takes his prey? The world will only darken without candlelight. With you I think I’ll try to get to the other side.

“Purah please. If you’re going to ask me all these questions, can you at least turn the music down?”

Red eyes peered at Zelda over the red rims of her ridiculous glasses. And not at the road. Definitely not at the road.

“Please?” she continued to plead. “And watch the road?”

“University made you so boring,” Purah sighed as she relented, fulfilling both requests by turning down the throbbing bass of her beloved EDM down and looking back to the road just in time to honk at the car in front of her that she’d almost rear-ended.

“I’ve always been rather boring, thank you,” Zelda said in her defense. “And while I appreciate you coming to pick me up, I was hoping to make it home alive.”

“Uh, bad news about that,” Purah said, biting her lip hard enough that Zelda could see it beyond the red streak in her otherwise snow white hair.

“Don’t tell me--”

“--Too late for that,” Purah conceded. “Daddy dearest wants me to bring you straight to rehearsal.”

Zelda groaned, then immediately let out a yelp of surprise as she held onto the handle above Purah’s passenger seat for dear life. Purah was swerving across three lanes of the highway to make the correct exit to get to the castle, and she was making it everyone’s problem.

The castle where Zelda’s father played King over his renaissance festival every summer, and she had been his little Princess Zelda for as long as she could remember. The ruined castle he’d somehow managed to purchase from the historical society decades ago, and had made it his life’s goal to turn into a venue for the ultimate renaissance faire. The best in Central Hyrule, so the newspaper ads always claimed. Really, it was always a sort of thrown together thing, with far more dramatics than polish.

Still, it was good fun, but definitely not how she planned to spend this summer in particular. Not how she had planned to spend any more of her summers ever again, if she could help it.

“He can’t just give me one afternoon?” she asked, even as Purah and her erratic driving had already made the decision for her.

Purah responded to that with as much of a shrug as she could manage while driving. “Apparently not. You know how he gets during the week before.”

“You know he told me he was going to pick me up from the airport? I bet he never had any intention of doing so,” Zelda noted, hugging the backpack that there wasn’t any room for in the trunk close to her chest.

“I, well, uh, I can’t say for certain,” Purah offered to that with a shrug. “He seemed in a hurry when he asked me, so at least I don’t think he planned that. He’s all in a tizzy about this new version of the Champions’ Tournament they’re doing.”

“Urbosa told me about that,” Zelda chimed in. “She said dad hired some new kid who’s really good. But that’s odd Purah, don’t you think? He doesn’t hire new people, especially not to be knights.”

“I mean, he is really good, that new guy,” Purah confirmed and began swinging an invisible sword across the dashboard. “Weird, but good.”

“Purah, no offense meant, but anyone who wants to work at a renaissance faire is weird.”

Purah, with her red-streak in her white hair, obnoxious glasses, little red hatchback that had more bumper stickers than bumper and a trunk so full of cables and costume parts that there was barely room for Zelda’s suitcases in it, just shrugged off this offense.

She’d worked for the faire since before she probably legally should have. This year would no doubt be the same as any other, with her taking charge of getting all the technology up and running--from speakers and lights down to the registers up at the ticket stands and food stalls--but also somehow finding time to create and manage an inventory of increasingly elaborate costumes for the cast. In fact, there had been no room in the backseat for Zelda’s suitcases either, because there was an entire Lynel costume in various states of completion stored there.

Purah shrugged, then offered a biting response, “Not as weird as people born into renaissance faire royalty.”

“Like I’d choose this,” Zelda sighed.

“Speaking of choices, I don’t get it,” Purah said as she turned onto one of Castle Town’s main thoroughfares, honking through her pause at the unfortunate soul who was going too slow in front of her. “I’m assuming you’re here because you didn’t get that internship. Besides me, of course, and maybe Robbie, you’re literally the smartest person I know. Why didn’t they give it to you?”

“I…don’t really know.”

It was an honest statement, maybe the most honest Zelda had been with both Purah and herself since getting into this car.

The director of the internship program had all but assured her that this last round of reviews was a formality. She was a shoe-in, what with her impressive academic credentials and the fact that she aced both rounds of interviews. But the email had come a week before the end of this last semester, saying she had been rejected in favor of more qualified candidates.

Who in all of Hyrule was more qualified than her? She’d worked her entire life to get into this field, with the goal of working for this very program. She’d studied and studied, filled her first three years at Hateno University with an insane course load that would make just about any other student break down into tears. Nevermind that she’d let those tears get the best of her sometimes, but never where anyone could see.

Though she certainly wasn’t proud to admit it, more than a few of those tears were shed that day she got the email. Zelda honestly didn’t remember much of that afternoon. She didn’t want to. She only knew that she managed to call her father in the evening, and he’d booked her a flight home.

Home. Was Castle Town really home anymore? Did she want it to be?

She shook her head to herself, lest she start spiraling in Purah’s car. The passenger’s seat of a cluttered hybrid, with still thrumming bass vibrating her bones, was not exactly the best place for a mental breakdown.

Plus, Zelda had promised herself she wasn’t going to do this. She was just going to have a normal summer. Well, as normal a summer as she could have, working at the renaissance faire yet again.

“You not having anything else to say about it speaks volumes, chatterbox,” Purah noted. “I’m sure your dad didn’t tell you this, so someone’s gotta. You know that you not getting this internship isn’t the end of the world, right? You’re still here. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

She reached out to squeeze Zelda’s arm, mostly missing and squeezing her backpack instead, with only two fingers making actual contact with the skin just beneath the sleeve of her blue and white blouse.

“I appreciate it Purah, but I’m fine,” Zelda assured her, back to lying again.

“You’re not fine. You’re almost as quiet as the new guy. And he doesn’t talk,” Purah told her.

“At all?”

Purah shook her head. “Nope. Or at least I’ve never heard him talk. Presumably he can. I know your dad interviewed him somehow. But that’s the whole schtick they’re using for him: The Silent Knight. He either just isn’t chatty to an extreme degree or very committed to the character.”

Zelda sighed, finding herself looking out the window as the city made way, buildings and busy streets alike seeming to step aside, opening up to a view of the ruined castle on the hill.

“It sounds like he fits right in with the rest of the Champions.”

“Revali hates him,” Purah stated.

“Revali hates everyone,” was Zelda’s immediate response.

“That’s very true. But Revali especially hates him because he’s this year’s winner,” Purah pointed out.

“You’re telling me that my father hired some new guy for the Champions’ Tournament, and that he’s making him the winner this year? Purah, you’ve got to be joking,” Zelda said, finally letting go of her vice grip on her backpack to turn fully toward Purah, or as much her seatbelt would allow.

While there had always been a bit of a revolving door of cast members in the Champions’ Tournament--the nightly knight show of jousting and stage combat that had been both the centerpiece and grand finale of every faire day--the honor of “winning” the scripted tournament was passed between her father’s four long-time knights. Mipha would win on feats of grace and compassion or from her deft skills with the spear. Cocky Revali would be handed a scenario where only his superior aim and archery knowledge could pull ahead of the other competitors. Daruk would impress the crowds with his raw strength. Urbosa arguably had the most skill with one on one sword and shield combat of all of them, and would get to show off for her win with a dramatic duel.

But never in the history of the faire had anyone else been allowed to win the scripted tournament.

“Look, I’m as surprised as you are, but I think it’ll be a fun change of pace. Maybe that old coot realized he’s gotta make some changes to keep people coming back year after year,” Purah offered with a shrug.

“That doesn’t sound like my father,” Zelda said, turning back to the view of the castle as the colorful banners and bunting that decorated the ruins joined the picture.

They always dressed the place up nice. She had to admit that. Nevermind that it should have remained in the hands of the historical society to be studied, and not made a spectacle of. But Zelda couldn’t really blame her father, or any of the others who made this faire possible every year. She supposed that was a good enough use of the ruins anyway--celebrating the past, when they were once grand and glorious and not crumbling away brick by brick, year by year.

“I guess he knew this kid’s dad?” Purah continued on. “That probably has something to do with it. He apparently was a knight way back. Maybe you’d remember him?”

“We’ve had so many knights, or at least so many strangers I’ve found passed out on my living room couch one morning and had dad explain to me that they were working for him now,” Zelda told her. “I doubt I’d remember which one of those he was.”

“You should write a book about it. Or get therapy. One or the other,” Purah offered.

“Believe me, I’ve thought about both.”

“There she is. I’ve been missing old sassy Princess Zelda,” Purah said with a grin.

Zelda didn’t bother to stifle the groan that followed. “Please don’t start with the princess stuff. I’m not ready for it.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that,” Purah told her as she pointed to the road, and the fact that they were about to turn into the staff parking lot. “Because we’re here.”

“Shit.”

Zelda was really hoping for at least a day or two of some sort of reprieve. Some time to rot in her childhood bedroom. Well, that was still full of princess-themed decorations and accessories as well, so perhaps it wouldn’t have helped. Maybe she should have just stayed in Hateno--found a summer sublease or something, gotten a shitty summer job that didn’t involve wearing a tiara every day.

But Purah was right. It was too late. She was already here.

“Time to put on your crown, princess,” Purah said with far too much excitement as she turned off into the gravel parking lot at the back of the ruined castle.

---

“Oh good, you’re here.”

These were the first words the man known as “King” Rhoam Bosphoramus Hyrule had to say to his daughter. His daughter, who had just faced the biggest disappointment in her twenty-one years of life. His one and only daughter, who had come home in hopes of finding some comfort.

“You were going to pick me up,” Zelda reminded him.

“Sorry, princess. Things are very busy here,” Rhoam said as he gestured to the dusty tournament grounds. “I don’t know if Purah told you, but your old man had the bright idea to change the Champions’ Tournament around, so we’ve been stuck in rehearsal for the last week. But things are looking better. Even better now that you’re here to learn your part.”

“Don’t tell me you changed that too?” Zelda wondered.

She’d been doing the same bit since she was a teenager. She could probably recite it verbatim right there and now. In fact, she thought about texting her roommate back at Hateno University to ask if she did the entire scene in her sleep. There was a decent chance she did.

“Just a little,” Rhoam assured her with a wave of his massive hands. Zelda wasn’t sure how she turned out as small as she was, with this giant of a man being her father. “You still do the whole giving them the blessing thing, presenting them with their cloth. We made Link’s a tunic, so I don’t know how we’re gonna have him put it on without there being a big awkward pause for him to do so, but we’ll figure it out.”

“Who is Link?” Zelda asked, though she could already guess it was the new knight, she still wanted her father’s version of the answer.

“Oh right, you haven’t met Link. Well, I don’t know if you remember, but you did when you were little. His dad was one of our knights back in--”

“Father, there were so many of them. I can guarantee you that I don’t remember,” Zelda cut him off, lest he go on an entire journey through the last twenty years of the faire’s history.

“Eh, you were little,” Rhoam offered as an excuse. He scanned the tournament grounds over Zelda’s head, looking for something. “As was he. But he remembers you. Where is that boy anyway? Daruk! Where is Link? We’re starting up again in a minute!”

The massive boulder of a Goron on the field shrugged his answer and kept hammering at an actual boulder, no doubt practicing the same old trick he always did, where he’d break the rock to the raucous cheers of the crowd.

“He’ll turn up,” Rhoam said, turning back to his daughter. “He’s a good lad. Very responsible, at least when he isn’t wandering off to Hylia knows where.”

Zelda found herself scanning the grounds for anyone unfamiliar, but she knew most of the faces scurrying around the arena. Mipha was over watering the horses. Revali was very loudly explaining how great he was to some poor stagehand who also looked vaguely familiar. Urbosa was absent at the moment, and honestly had been the first person Zelda looked for. Purah had joined her sister, the slightly more serious Impa, who acted as the stage manager for most of the faire’s various performances.

“I’m sure he’s great,” Zelda offered. “I was hoping to talk to you before we went straight into the faire, though.”

“About the internship?” Rhoam questioned.

“I don’t know, dad. Maybe you could tell me that it’s going to be fine? That I’ll have another chance in the fall? That just doing my best is good enough?” Zelda asked of him, finding her hands balling into fists she went on.

Truth be told, he’d only offered her his disappointment so far. Just general displeasure and a plane ticket home.

His exact words on that fateful phone call had been, “Well, at least I can have you work the faire again.”

“I…I thought for sure you were getting it,” Rhoam offered. “Your mother was in the same program. Did you tell them that?”

“I’m not her!” Zelda nearly shouted, only holding back due to the openness of the royal box on the grandstand where they stood and the fact that there were at least a dozen people and five horses on the grounds. Zelda swallowed the last word like a bitter pill. This was the same battle she’d been fighting since she was six years old. Since her mother died. “Even if I was, I doubt that would change anything. I didn’t make it. I did everything I could and it wasn’t enough.”

“Well, you’ll just have to apply again in the fall,” Rhoam said, sticking to his guns. “I know you have it in you, princess. I was hoping you wouldn’t have to miss a regular semester for it, but hey, shit happens.”

“Shit does indeed happen,” Zelda told him, knuckles so tight now they were going numb. “I don’t know why I bothered asking what you thought. You’ve already made yourself clear.”

“I’m just worried about your career options, not to mention medical school,” Rhoam told her. “Money doesn’t grow on trees, Zelda. You need to be good scholarship material.”

“Money grows on trees when it’s for the--”

“--Now don’t start with that.”

A shout from the field stopped them from fully getting into it, thankfully.

“Hey little guy! The King wants you!” Daruk yelled at someone.

Zelda turned to find that who she presumed to be this Link character, was indeed a little guy. A Hylian like her, as small as her, maybe even a bit shorter, waved back at Daruk and started jogging up the grandstand stairs. His dirty blonde hair was pulled back into a wolf tail, and his mud-stained blue t-shirt and ripped jeans spoke of a morning spent practicing. He looked the part of a knight, and certainly of someone who worked at a renaissance faire, but in a very much bite-sized package.

“That’s Link,” Rhoam offered instead of an apology.

“He’s…short,” Zelda noted.

“He makes up for it,” Rhoam assured her. “Link, over here!”

Upon closer inspection, once he reached them, Zelda confirmed that Link was indeed a few inches shorter than her. Not absolutely miniscule, but still not exactly the picture of a tall, handsome knight. He had a certain curiosity sparkling in his blue eyes, and overall wasn’t bad to look at. Just…short.

And, just as Purah had warned her, he greeted them with only a wave.

“Link, this is Zelda. You probably don’t recognize her. You had to be, oh, maybe five? Six? I don’t know. It was a long ass time ago,” Rhoam said as his introduction. “But you said you remembered her.”

Zelda didn’t remember him. Her summers were so full of people. Long time employees acting as surrogate parents, guests fawning over the cute little princess, random vendors giving her ice cream and lemonade just to try to get her to smile again.

The tiniest of smiles lifted the corner of Link’s lips before he seemed to suppress it. His face turned to a stony neutral expression again before he turned to Rhoam and nodded.

“You’ll have to forgive the lad, Zelda. He isn’t much of a talker. But we’re playing that up in the show. He’s going to be the Silent Knight. Good stage name, right?” Rhoam went on.

“Fantastic,” Zelda responded, with purposeful flatness that she hoped her father understood to be a complete lack of enthusiasm for this entire thing.

And for the fact that he thought it was a good idea to have Purah bring her straight to a fucking rehearsal.

“Well, since you’re both here, and I see Urbosa over there, I think we have everyone we need to start again,” Rhoam said as he looked over the tournament grounds again before leaning over the railing to shout, his deep voice echoing over the dusty summer afternoon. “Impa! Get me a script for Zelda. Also say hi to her. And everybody else, places for the Champion’s Blessing scene! We’re doing this again from the top.”

And there it was again. The faire once again won out over her and her needs. Zelda knew it would happen. It did every summer. But still, it would be nice to hear from someone besides Purah that the world wasn’t ending.

It still felt like it was.

Rhoam walked off without another word to start doing what he did best, both directing and making himself the star of the show. Link, at least, offered her a wave goodbye as he turned to head toward the stairs again.

“Hey you! Catch!” came a call from below Zelda.

Which was followed by the fluttering of paper, as a script-shaped missile began flying from Impa’s hand straight toward Zelda’s head.

Only for a hand to reach out and catch it before it could make impact, reacting much faster than Zelda could ever hope to.

Link had turned back around in time to catch the rolled up script, and was presenting it to Zelda as if it were some sort of sacred artifact. He even had his head bowed a little.

As weird as that was, Zelda was grateful not to be smacked in the face with her father’s terrible writing, at least in the literal sense. No one could save her from the figurative smack now.

“Thank you,” she offered. “Oh…wait, um. Hold on, I think I remember.”

She signed for thank you, as no one had taken the time to explain to her why Link didn’t talk. She was left to assume. So she assumed that maybe he was hard of hearing? It was a decent enough guess.

But wait, her father had spoken to him. Link had responded to that. Was he reading lips or did he hear him? Oh well. Either way, she’d already made the sign. No taking it back now.

He lifted his head and smiled his little almost-smile again, but did not sign back. Instead, he offered the script more insistently.

“Right,” Zelda said, trying to summon all of her years of practicing her princessy grace to not inject any further awkwardness into the act of taking the script from his hand.

“Thanks for not letting me bean her, Link,” Impa said as she came up the rest of the stairs to meet them. “Rhoam would have had a fit if I gave her a black eye, even if it was with his shitty writing.”

Link nodded to that and then promptly jogged down the grandstand again. He was rather fast for as short as he was, Zelda had to admit.

“I promise he’s cool,” Impa offered as she followed Zelda’s eyes to him. “Well, as cool as someone who doesn’t talk can be. Anyway, how are you?”

“I could be better,” Zelda admitted.

Purah’s older sister was far more emotionally in tune than her, and had known Zelda longer. There was no point in attempting to hide anything from her. She’d been working as the faire’s stage manager since she was still in high school, after all. And now she was what, twenty-three? Twenty-four?

Zelda could hardly believe her own age, let alone Impa’s. She still felt like the same little girl she so often saw herself as in her dreams, riding on Urbosa’s hip and dripping her ice cream all over the colorful silk of the Gerudo woman’s belly dancer costume.

“Purah told me all about it. I’m sorry things worked out like that, but I’m glad you’re here. Me and the rest of the crew will make sure you still have an amazing summer, even if it’s not the one you wanted to have,” Impa assured her, reaching out to pull her into a quick hug.

“Thanks, Impa.”

At least that much she knew would be true. Her father couldn’t be counted on for much, but Zelda hadn’t given her faire family enough credit. They would definitely make this fun, even on the hottest, most crowded, and most miserable of days. They always did.

Still, it wasn’t what she wanted. Or what her father wanted for her. And, in a rare moment of honesty with herself, Zelda thought for just that moment, that perhaps it was getting harder and harder to reconcile those two things.

“People! I said places! Where is everyone?” Rhoam shouted from the field, as if on cue.

---

And so Zelda found herself in her usual spot, on the circle of stone tiles that had been arranged into a mosaic portraying the Triforce and the old royal seal of Hyrule’s ancient monarchy within it. Her father was nothing if not a stickler for having at least some historical accuracy at the faire, and had gone to great lengths to research and restore what he could of the original grounds. This mosaic and its imagery were among those projects.

Zelda blamed that for her true passion. As great as studying for medical school was, and wanting to follow in her mother’s footsteps as a research doctor, her medical textbooks didn’t quite hold her attention like archeology could. The history, the artifacts, the ruins like those she’d grown up around--Hyrule was full of these little windows into the past, just waiting to reveal answers to questions long forgotten. It was fascinating.

Fascinating enough that she’d managed to make it her minor, even though very few classes overlapped nicely with her pre-med track.

Fascinating enough that, at times, she could almost forgive her father for getting lost in the fantasy version of it.

So she did her best to put on her most regal Princess Zelda face as she read from the script, adding a new blessing for Link to his new storyline.

“Hero of Hyrule, chosen by the sword that seals the darkness. You have shown unflinching bravery and skill in the face of darkness and adversity, and have proven yourself worthy of the blessing of the Goddess Hylia. Whether skyward bound, adrift in time, or steeped in the glowing embers of twilight--Dad, really? This is so verbose.”

“We’re well past the review or rewrite stage on this, princess. The faire opens this weekend,” Rhoam shouted down from the royal box, where he’d taken up residence again once the scene started.

Zelda rolled her eyes and continued on, “The sacred blade is forever bound to the soul of the Hero. We pray for your protection…and we hope that--that you two will grow stronger together, as one.” She had to look up again from that one, addressing her father in confusion, “Wait, him and the sword or…?”

“Pretty sure it’s the sword?” Daruk answered, scratching his head. “Honestly I was lost when Impa was reading this part for you too, kiddo. You reading it doesn't make it make any more sense to me.”

“Yes, it’s the sword! This is all based on the legends of the Hero and the Master Sword. Come on people, you’re supposed to be acting out history. You should know it!” Rhoam complained from above.

“Ancient legends aren’t exactly historical, Rhoam,” Urbosa reminded him, then nodded toward Zelda. “Continue on anyway. We need to get you some sunscreen after this, little bird. The heat is vicious today, even for me.”

Of course she was worried about sunscreen. The Gerudo woman had been the closest thing Zelda had to a mother after her own mother died, but that didn’t mean she had to act like it.

Though yes, the summer sun was quite hot already. It made her dread sweating in the heavy fabric of her usual princess costume all the more, but thankfully, for today, everyone was still in casual clothes.

“Right,” Zelda said, taking a deep breath and reaching out again to hover her hand over Link’s shoulder.

The Silent Knight, for his part, was dutifully bowed and on one knee before her, and hadn’t so much as flinched for all of the disruptions. He was so still that not even a single new wrinkle had been added to his dirty shirt this entire time. Was he wearing cowboy boots under those jeans? Of course he was. Of course…

Zelda shifted her focus back the script in her hand and continued on with the increasingly flowery speech, but was finding herself losing steam over the words. Honestly, she just wanted to go home. She wanted a shower. She wanted to order a pizza from her favorite place in town, eat too much of it to the point of mild regret, and then pass out. She’d been up since six in the morning to make that flight. All for her father to just throw her back into this world without so much as a hug?

Really, why did she bother to come back here?

“Gee, this is uplifting,” she heard Daruk whisper under his breath as she droned on.

“Wasn’t this your idea?” Revali snapped back at him with far less subtlety, but still quiet enough not to stop the scene again. His deep blue Rito feathers spread wide from his wings as he went on, “You’re the one who told Rhoam to add all this pomp and ceremony and nonsense to this scene! And if you ask me, the whole thing does seem to be overkill. Really, who in our audience is going to care all that much about this boy?”

“Oh, give it a rest,” Urbosa quietly scolded him as she pushed her long red ponytail off of her shoulder. “That boy has been getting more attention from her father than she ever does. Well, at least she’ll find out soon enough.”

Great. Another thing to look forward to dealing with this summer. And for the other knights to be worried about her for it. Zelda really wanted that shower and pizza more than anything else right now.

But when the words on the page ran out, and her name no longer appeared on the script, Zelda couldn’t help but look down at him. At this Link.

He was just a kid. Well, not really. He had to be at least as old as her, if she was supposed to remember him that is. But he was scrawny and small. Honestly barely believable for winning a tournament over the likes of the other Champions. Sure, the audience loves an underdog, she could almost hear her father saying as much now--but really, this kid?

Zelda, of course, knew the legends her father was referencing in that lengthy speech of hers. They were where her name came from, after all. They were her favorite bedtime stories, back when she was young. Back when things were still okay, before her mother died.

But they were just stories. Stories that were mostly the same, but slightly different in each iteration. There was always a Hero, some bright young man with unmatched courage. He always found or was given some sort of magical sword. It talked to him in some of the stories, shot magical beams of light in others, or sometimes just emitted a soft glow in the presence of evil. And he always saved a princess named Zelda from some evil monster or corrupt king. Every time.

Only Zelda was pretty sure she didn’t want or need saving. Much less from some odd young man who didn’t even have the courage to say hello to her.

Some hero he made.

---

The following day--exactly one late night hot shower and an amount of pizza that Zelda wasn’t proud of later--the temperature was even hotter and the sun somehow even brighter. Her father, in all his kingly compassion and good judgment, had decided that this was the perfect day to impose a full dress rehearsal and costume review on the entire staff.

“No different from last year,” Purah informed her as she inspected her from the blessed air conditioning of the ladies’ dressing rooms. “You haven’t changed a bit, and the dress is still in good shape. Thanks for making my job easy.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing,” Zelda noted as she adjusted the flowing bell sleeves of her princess dress, trying to think of any other reason to delay stepping out into the heat in this ridiculous thing.

But it was no use. She’d be wearing this dress all summer, regardless of the temperature. Purah had made her another outfit a few years back with some leggings instead of the heavy skirts. It was a little better, but she could only get away with that one on days where her father was too distracted to disapprove. He didn’t think it was “princessy” enough, and wouldn’t take her insisting that the leggings were historically accurate fashion for Hylian nobility of the time period for an answer.

“I still have the pants version, you know. I don’t see why daddy dearest doesn’t let you at least do walkarounds in that,” Purah noted with a little frown as she looked Zelda up and down one last time.

She herself was in her full Sheikah getup, honoring her people’s heritage with a sort of pale gray robe that covered most of the red leggings and bodysuit she wore underneath. Unlike her older sister, she didn’t opt for the Sheikah eye symbol painted on her face, but she also had less of a chance of being seen “on stage”.

Honestly, it was all so ridiculous. Her father treated the entire faire as a theater production, or a theme park that warranted a much more expensive ticket price than they could ever hope to ask for. Referring to employee only areas as backstage, calling said employees cast or actors, forcing even the third party vendors to dress up in period clothes--it was all just overkill for what amounted to a pretty average regional renaissance festival.

But there was no telling that to the King.

“Remind me in a few weeks and I’ll see if I can get away with it,” Zelda said. She peered in the mirror of a nearby vanity and adjusted her tiara a bit. “For now, I think I’m stuck in this thing.”

“Sure thing,” Purah nodded, but then moved to step in front of her before she could leave. “Check it there a second. I’m putting us on TikTok this year, and I want to show the people your fit.”

“Purah, I understood about half of the words that left your mouth just now,” Zelda informed her.

Purah, however, was too busy pulling out her phone and grinning at the screen. “Look princessy.”

“That’s been my job since I was six years old.”

“Okay good, so do it.”

Zelda let out a brief sigh, but did her best to pose for whatever Purah was asking of her.

“Now turn or spin or something,” Purah said. “And don’t tell me you don’t know what TikTok is. You’re my age.”

“I’m usually too busy studying to mess around with social media,” Zelda said, repeating an excuse she told her fellow students so often that it was nearly as ingrained into her head as her speech for the Champions’ Tournament.

“That’s a lie. I follow you on Insta, you know. You take really pretty pictures. Boring, but pretty. Now spin,” Purah demanded.

Zelda knew she wasn’t getting out of here without a spin, so she spun. The action made her smile, remembering how she’d spin around with all the little girls who would come to the faire in their princess dresses. They were so excited to see her year after year, even after they grew out of those little dress-up princess costumes themselves.

Still, Zelda could always make guests like them smile. And maybe that was worth sweating in royal blue velvet all day.

“I still have the faire’s Instagram account,” Zelda realized as she finished her spin. “I should probably start posting on it.”

“I’m surprised you dad didn’t ask you to,” Purah noted, tapping on her phone with a little grin that told Zelda she must be satisfied with the footage.

“He still thinks the key to success is advertising in the newspapers, so I don’t think he knows enough to ask. Better it stays that way,” Zelda concluded. “Now, do I have permission to leave?”

Purah was still too busy smirking at her phone. “I’m gonna add so many sparkles to you.”

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Zelda responded and walked around Purah with no further resistance.

She gathered her own phone from her locker on the way out. Of course, there were no phones allowed on stage when there were guests at the faire, but the rule would not be enforced for the next few dress rehearsal days. It would be a great time for getting enough shots to fill up all the social media accounts for the rest of the summer. That meant a lot of pictures to be taken on top of all of the other wrangling her father expected her to do. But luckily for her, photography was Zelda’s second passion after archeology.

And doubly-lucky, her dress had pockets.

She loved a dress with pockets.

“I’ll head for Goron City first,” she announced to herself as she exited the dressing rooms. “Daruk will no doubt need some help getting his booth in order.”

She had a bad habit of talking to herself. She liked talking. It helped her organize her thoughts. And it wasn’t problematic if no one was around to hear her.

It was only when she’d rambled her way through the end of that second sentence that she noticed her footsteps were echoing. But that wasn’t possible? The crunch of the gravel was definitely bouncing off something. But there were only cloth tents, the gravel pathway, and the trailer that made up the dressing room behind her. Nothing to echo off of, unless…

Zelda stopped and turned, only to find that Link had stopped with her, and remained about five steps back from her.

He was decked out in his Champion’s garb. Her father had decided to scrap the gifting of the cloth to the Champions from the main show and just have them wear the tokens of Princess Zelda’s favor with their regular Champion costumes. Pretty much the entirety of Link’s costume was that token--a tunic of a slightly brighter shade of her royal blue, embroidered in white with his symbol, which was that of the legendary sword.

All very extra, as Purah might say.

The causal knightley look was completed with various belts and pouches. Of course, attached to one that was slung from shoulder to waist on him was a massive purple and gold scabbard, in which his prop sword sat--peace-knotted of course.

It would only come out of that scabbard for the tournament, of course. Zelda had yet to see what he could do with, as the previous afternoon’s rehearsal focused entirely on the opening ceremonies and not on any of the actual stage combat, but apparently even Urbosa was impressed with him, so he had to be decent.

“Hello Link,” she said as she looked him over. “Your costume fits you well. I see Purah’s been hard at work.”

He nodded to this, blue eyes earnest and expression neutral. Not even offering a hint of his opinion on the matter.

Well, that was going to take some getting used to. Especially if he kept just…staring at her like that.

“I suppose I’ll see you at show rehearsal in a bit. I’m going to check on some things and take some pictures for the faire’s Instagram,” Zelda explained, pulling her phone out of her pocket to wiggle it in evidence and waiting for him to give her some sort of sign that she could politely exit this one-sided conversation.

Link nodded again.

The awkwardness of his silence might kill her, if the summer heat and her own anxieties didn’t beat him to it.

Zelda decided that was enough and she could leave, only to hear the dual crunching of gravel yet again.

She stopped.

Link stopped with her.

“Are you…following me?” she asked, barely turning her head enough to be able to see him from the corner of her eye.

Link’s expression changed, only for the briefest of moments again. A look of concern passed his face for half a second, bending his eyebrows slightly downward and scrunching his nose, but it all smoothed back to neutral again.

He nodded.

Zelda turned to face him, not bothering to conceal her annoyance this time. “Let me guess, my father asked you to keep an eye on me? To make sure that I was doing what he asked?”

Link seemed to think about this one for a moment before he nodded again.

Zelda sighed. She wasn’t getting paid enough for this. Actually she wasn’t really getting paid at all. Her father had decided that instead of giving her wages for her work at the faire, that he’d put them into a bank account he would use to help with her tuition. And while she appreciated that, and had been able to save herself from taking much in the way of student loans for it, it wasn’t all that satisfying to have nothing in her own bank account to show for all this work.

She found herself pinching the bridge of her nose. This wouldn’t be the first time her father had assigned one of his employees to keep tabs on her. That had actually been Impa’s first job, but she’d been reassigned to stage management after Zelda became too good at evading her.

But Link. Link didn’t talk. Link couldn’t be distracted with a conversation. Link was new to the faire and didn’t have a friend she could foist him off on.

She was quite possibly stuck with him for at least the rest of rehearsal week.

“Well, come on then,” Zelda said, turning back to head for Daruk’s blacksmith shop. It was set up on the northeastern side of the grounds.

She didn’t look back.

Link, as he would continue to do without fail for the rest of the day, followed without complaint.

#zelda #breath of the wild #zelink #fanfic #the world will only darken without candlelight #i will come to regret how long that title is for sure #are we going to retell every single memory and then have link speedrun botw at the end?#you betcha

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princess-of-the-corner · 5 months

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Building off your pitch for a Scooby-Doo origin.

Daphne at a stuffy high society gala meets Shaggy, he doesn't give a last name and he's dressed terribly. Daphne already wants to be best friends with him. Shaggy is just glad she isn't put off by his lack of social awareness. Ghost attacks and causes chaos, Shaggy is terrified and Daphne is just excited that something cool is happening for once. They want to investigate but lack resources so they go into town to look for help. They meet paranormal expert Velma who wants to investigate to try and prove ghosts are real and trap maker Fred. He just likes traps, Daphne is sold on the new additions. Shaggy refuses to go unless he brings his dog, Daphne let's Scooby-Doo come with. They sneak in, clues are found, and eventually catch the ghost. The ghost is actually a guest who wanted to steal the *generic value object* from the ballroom or something. The mystery gang is formed, paint the van, and ride off into the sunset.

Also if Daphne and Shaggy are rich kids it would be hilarious if Shaggy was actually in a higher social tier than Daphne. Like the Blakes are millionaires but the Rogers are billionaires.

Oh so like.

I think it depends on the continuity because it shifts a little but the Vibes for me in most continuities are Old Money vs New Money

So like Shaggy's family has had money for generations, as implied by that Boo Brothers thing I mentioned where the inherited estate is a southern plantation. Yes I am aware of the implications there and so is Shaggy and he does not like that at all which is one reason he avoids the family money as much as he can.

Daphne on the other hand always seems to have some rich businessman for a father, so it vibes more that he made his own money rather than inherited it. Occasionally continuity will imply older money like in the Loch Ness Monster movie there's a family castle back in Scotland, but it's like. Not always a thing.

And while to /us/ it doesn't really matter they're both rich, to rich people there's a Difference™ and it causes Drama™.

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canidkid · 1 year

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i saw that you have brett hand agere headcanons and as a trauma kin seeking comfort i’m going to have to ask you to share [pretty please?] /lh

Auuughh this took a bit I'm sorry!!

BUT WITH PLEASURE!! 🌠

BRETT HAND AGERE HEADCANONS ⭐🌈🐛🩹 !!

CW: panic attack mention, vent reg mention

**He first noticed it during the comedown periods after panic attacks. He'd get all floaty and ditzy for a bit. Brought it up with his therapist. They recommended looking into age regression and to see if he could potentially use it beneficially. - Sure, why not. Initially just got himself some adult coloring books and markers and started watching kids shows while he found his way back into a stable headspace. - It, eventually, did escalate. Namely with his regression being triggered at cognito, being the first time that had ever happened with someone else (Andre and Reagan) present.

He no longer struggles as much with accepting that side of himself. It's just the way he is. He's an adult, who sometimes just isn't. And that's okay. - **It's become more peaceful as well, no longer being exclusively triggered by panic attacks but also now being somewhat voluntary to de-escalate in certain situations.

His age range is both broad and hard to pinpoint! So he'll be sitting with a pacifier and a plushie...watching or doing something entirely not toddler appropriate!

He likes chewlery, teethers & pacifiers at any age! Though, he does have a general preference for chewlery!

Is really into just watching people, especially Reagan!! (she's still nervous about having the kid in her lab though, she doesn't like children, they are sticky…)

Definitely a little displaced in time, prefers 80s nostalgia over his actual 90s childhood

Loves to learn, anything and everything, bothering people with 2nd grade level fun facts is considered an activity for him

Fidgety. Never stops moving. His energy levels seem to somehow increase !? Loves outdoor play when he succeeds in pestering someone long enough to actually play with him!

Tends to float more around middle-space, at about 10-12!

"do you have games on your phone?" energy

Scooby Doo, Blue's Clues, Ghostbusters and Sesame Street are common background noise in the Hand Bachelor pad !

Not mega picky with food! But...if you really can't get him to eat something...ketchup or sprinkles will help 9/10 times..little weirdo /lh

Collects doggie toys!! Especially plushies!

The one thing he kept from his actual childhood is a yellow puppy luvvie,, it's still in pretty good shape and he's often toting it with him around the house!

Overall I think he's really just the sweetest little kid. He needs a fair amount of reassurance from those watching him that he, in fact, is not being too much or annoying. And they, IN FACT, are doing this because they love him and want to see him happy!!

**He does have his moments, not surprisingly. He's not always a happy camper when small, especially if negatively triggered. Sometimes it's a bit of a gamble if he'll come up from an episode and stay in his adult headspace, slip under and relax, or if you're gonna have an especially teary and clingy kiddo.

The gang loves him. Reagan would commit unspeakable atrocities for this kid. Gigi just wants to shower him in prezzies from rich auntie! Andre and Myc are..questionable babysitters...but nothing has happened yet! (because no one lets them babysit.) And Glenn has to be verbally whacked on occasion - no, Mr Dolphman, Brett does not want to learn how to [insert strange dolphin surgery veteran activity] !!!

I don't want this post to be too long but tbh I could go on!!! ⭐🌈

I hope these are good and enough for now >:]]

#sfw agere #agedre #agere #safe agere #fandom agere #pet regression #sfw petre #age regression #agere headcanons #agere hcs #inside job agere

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cup-of-dew · 1 year

Text

Been thinking about how I personally would do a Scooby-Doo series and like, I have alot of ideas for Shaggy's backstory, but idk if it's too stereotypical or basic.

The series would take place in highschool (cuz that's the target audience and also I'm in highschool) and I imagine the tone would be kinda semi serious? Like, there are stakes, and some of the topics are geared towards older ppl, but I don't imagine there being graphic violence, cursing or anything like that.

Back to shaggy tho

I kinda imagine him as the laid back type on the surface, like he's really chill, has the same type of voice, wears tank tops, shorts, and the same worn-out beanie he's had for years.

Idk if he'd be vegan or not but I do imagine him to be an animal lover, and I like to think he spends alot of time outside.

Something in me sees him as having a single mom who works a dead end job, wondering if her paycheck will keep them afloat till the next. I feel like he's kinda drifting through school, a D or C student, not really knowing where he'll end up, but feeling horrible about it cuz he really wants to give his mom a better life one day.

Sometimes he comes back from school to see his mom on her third bottle, too tipsy to stand, and he'd carry her to the couch and put her to sleep, and when he'd wake up the next morning, she'd have gone to work with a hangover.

It's gone on like that since Shaggy was really young, maybe twelve, and it's only gotten worse, as the bills keep rising and necessities become more expensive. Even if he knew what he wanted to do, they'd never be able to afford college, and his grades weren't good enough for scholarships.

Eventually, shaggy learned how to cook for himself and his mom. It started off simple, frying an egg, boiling rice, making spaghetti.

His first A was in home ec.

With the other members of the gang, I imagine he met Freddie when they were about 8 and became fast friends. Fred's always been the type to head straight into the unknown without a thought, running through bushes as a child, picking up bugs he didn't recognize and climbing trees to see how far he could go. Shaggy's the more withdrawn (?) type, preferring to lay down and watch clouds. I imagine that Fred always tries to encourage shaggy to be braver, and take more risks, while Shaggy acts as his common sense, albeit a bit more worried than necessary.

Shaggy finds Scooby as a stray pup when he's about 11, and nurses him back to health. They've been inseparable since.

I don't know if I want Scooby to actually talk. I like the idea that shaggy (and Fred too) have known him since early childhood and more or less understand him, and the rest of the gang eventually learn too, but alternatively, talking dog.

#scooby doo fanart #shaggy and scooby #scooby gang #shaggy x fred #yes this is me shipping childhood friends to lovers shaggy and fred #would shaggy be his realy name ?#prolly not but norville is weird no i need suggestions #my writing #writers on tumblr #long reads #rewrite #story i will never write #story ideas

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gaycavendish · 6 months

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Ok ok ONE more question abt Time Travelers Trio. Are Cavendish and Dakota still time Travelers as well at this point, or have they like retired or smth? Just curious as to what's up with them? :^D

finally going to answer this question! i have thought long and hard about it and come up with two answers: the short one and the deranged rambling one!

the short, less satisfying answer being: i think it could go either way! i really truly could see them either scrambling their way back into time traveling or finding jobs in the 21st century. Although.. i find the latter choice not quite as entertaining. So i prefer to think on the idea of them returning to time travel!

Now, The long answer:

(TLDR for it first: I think they may continue time traveling. Eventually Cavendish & Dakota start their own, rival to the time bureau, Time Traveling Agency. Whether the trio will be part of this agency is undecided but a probable yes.)

ok, so, theyre banned from time travel, full stop... But i mean, they know the guy who INVENTED it. its a silly solution, really & truly very goofy (although i think in line with the silliness of dwampyverse overall) but .. They could ask doof to make a rule that theyre allowed to continue time traveling. Total oversight by block to trap them in the century where doof invents time travel. Of course block wouldn't just Let this happen, or anything, but cartoon shenanigans ensue and im sure you can picture something sufficiently entertaining and set to the scooby-doo-door-chase song here.

The interest for me in this theory lies also in what dakota and cavendish would do up until the point where they return to time traveling! Trying to imagine them working regular jobs for like, a 10-15 year period.. i simply cannot.! The one ive found myself having the most fun thinking about is the idea of them helping out with the creation of the time machine, as well as coaching the trio on it a bit once they start testing doof's prototypes (although, theyre not the best people to ask for time traveling help i imagine HAHA). But in any case.. i also think they would change what they do with their time traveling quite a bit. I mean, neither of them WANT to do the pistachio stuff.. It's shown you can travel through time AND space, although they never leave the planet on screen (for pistachio purposes i would think). If they were in charge of their own missions, i quite think they would be doing much more exciting things! and. hopefully dying less...! CAVENDISH...

OK I SWEAR IM GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS. Because at this point i feel they are getting old and perhaps wishing to do something less dangerous.. Ok get ready for this.. This has been my favorite thing to think about today... What if they started their OWN time travel agency! A Ha! I might find this more exciting than other people, but nonetheless, i think its fitting. I mean, Block is a terrible boss. The bureau of time travel was never very kind to cav and dakota, and given that they have the resources (Doofenschmirtz! Love That Guy!) why not, right? plus, this gives the opportunity for some Secret Agency vs Secret Agency goodness. Which I always love. I only thought of this concept recently, but It's definitely my favorite of the bunch, so probably what I'll go with! Just left to decide whether the trio are part of this agency or not (probably yes).

#tttau #hi guys. feeling super normal #Can you tell ive been reading frankenstein with the commas in this... im sorry if so HLEP...#milo murphy's law #au #asks #Feel free to ask more questions!! I love to think about this au ^_^

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schmergo · 2 years

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I've posted about this before, but I just want to spread my conspiracy theory far and wide: I think Fred from Scooby-Doo is a narc and I stand by it.

So, Scooby-Doo was originally supposed to be about a teenage rock band that solved mysteries between gigs, hence the Mystery Machine. Obviously the show moved away from that. But I always thought Fred seemed way too old and way too square to be part of a groovy, psychadelic rock group (even nerdy Velma gives off a strong counter-culture vibe).

Hence, my theory: Fred is an undercover cop posing as a teen, tasked with curbing drug sales in the local hippie music scene. He auditions to join a hippie band and is like, "Hey, I have my own van and everything" and they're like, "You're in!"

When his fellow bandmates later find him arresting someone in an alley, they’re like, “Are you a cop, man?”

And he goes, “What? No! I— I just solve mysteries! I’m like Batman or something!”

Which backfires because his friends are like, “Cool, cool, can we come along?”

But at some point, Fred realizes, "Why did I take on this job in the first place? Was it to bust goofy but lovable teenagers like Shaggy for enjoying the hippie subculture? Or to solve mysteries and catch bad guys? I wanted to HELP this town, dang it! The corruption here is off the charts, the urban blight is ridiculous-- how many abandoned theme parks and theatres and homes can one city have?-- and all of the legends of ghosts and monsters can be traced back to greedy rich people trying to scare people away from their property. Do they ever face consequences for their terrorizing the people? Of course not, they're rich! Meanwhile, there's little to no outlet for youth to have wholesome fun around here because all of the arts, culture, and recreational sites have become dilapidated abandoned ruins. Is it any wonder that the teens in this town have turned to recreational substances? Why are we punishing them rather than the adults who failed them?"

So of course they all end up becoming true BFFs along the way and Fred eventually quits his job to become a full-time private detective specializing in monster costume based crimes with the rest of the gang.

#scooby-doo #cartoons #tv #scooby doo

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riddle-me-ri · 1 year

Text

Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow x Reader - Haunted Past, Haunting the Present

What happens when on an ordinary Halloween night with your beloved rogue…an old possessive and aggressive flame comes back to haunt you and your new partner?

A/N: so believe it or not this idea is based on an old original Halloween story I’ve been working on and off with for the past three years rip, and I decided to try and do this one shot with just Scarecrow cause it’s his holiday lol and I wanted to practice writing for him more. This is still just my general version for now, a strange concoction of BTAS and Happy Halloween Scooby Doo! cause I adore those two. And I do have a drawing with him planned out, but not sure if I’ll have the energy to finish it in time for Halloween rip

HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Have fun but PLEASE stay safe while doing so!!

Trigger Warnings: mentions of an abusive past relationship, stalking, violence, and some language. Please if any of this may seem slightly triggering to you, please avoid! I do plan to write an alternative less triggering version of this story soon! Just hang tight!

Word Count: 2.0 k

Needless to say Halloween was you and Jonathan's holiday. Most couples went all out on Valentine's Day or Christmas, but not you two.

Your house was filled with hay bales, fake cobwebs, various jack-o-lanterns all over, and skeletons on the front porch swing.

The whole nine yards.

You still giggled at the little almost life sized scarecrow figure you found that stood at the bottom of your doorsteps. It took a minute for Jonathan to roll his eyes back into his eye sockets, but you could tell he grew fond of it, eventually.

Every night you two cuddled up and watched horror movies. You never got enough of Jonathan's smartass commentary, or how he'd go out of his way to be the one to scare you next.

The following days, the two of you tried to restrain yourselves from adding more décor both inside and outside your home. As hard as it was at first, Jonathan found it easier to not pull any Scarecrow like antics when he found himself genuinely enjoying the festivities with you.

As thrilling as it was to watch and test others' fears and tolerances against it…it didn't compare to the warm swelling in his chest when he heard you laugh or squeal whenever he spooked you around the house.

While he's Fear Incarnate, you love and trust him enough to cling to him when you are at your most frightened.

Much like tonight.

It was finally Halloween night.

You were dressed up and handing candy out to the kids. Meanwhile, Jonathan was mirroring his scarecrow twin on the other side of the steps. Every now and then he'd jump out and scare a group of kids, or he would tap a child on the shoulder and return back to his post like nothing happened.

It was hard to keep a straight face whenever he heard you giggle or when you cheered him on.

"Good job, Jonny!"

"Damn, Jonny, you scared me and I knew you were there!"

"I think you're having too much fun there, Mr. Crane."

Jonathan bloomed with pride. This night couldn't get any better.

It didn't.

As the number of children started to dwindle, Jonathan decided it was time to pack up the suit for tonight. He hopped off his post but not before regarding his other partner in crime.

"Good work tonight, my friend." He patted the hay stuffed shoulder of the fake scarecrow before heading inside.

When he first walked in he headed toward the left where the kitchen was. He removed his hat and mask and took a refreshing breath of air.

"Gotcha!" You jumped out and wrapped your arms around Jonathan's waist. He may deny it all he wants but you felt that sharp intake of breath he took.

Jonathan did jump a little bit from the shock, but he immediately relaxed into your embrace, chuckling. "Seems you finally got me."

You squeezed him with your arms. "I've always got you, but I will scare you properly one of these days! Mark my words, Jonathan Crane!" You kissed his cheek before releasing him from your arms.

"Where are you going?" Jonathan watched as you headed outside.

"I forgot to grab the mail." You were already out of your costume and in a Gotham University hoodie of Jonathan's and some sweatpants.

"Darling, it's really late. I'm sure that can wait…"

"Jonny, I'll be fine." You assured. "Besides, I need you to hop in the shower…" You hummed.

"Um, why?" He quirked his eyebrow.

"So I can come in and join you." You winked at him, before turning the doorknob to head outside.

Jonathan nearly tripped going up the flight of stairs as fast as possible to the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~

You were snickering to yourself as you were pretty sure Jon missed a step or two running up the stairs.

The night was still, the fog had gotten denser. If not for the decorations and littered candy wrappers all over. You wouldn't think it was Halloween.

You shivered, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. It was quiet, the whistle of a soft breeze being all you heard.

You made it to your mailbox at the other side of the sidewalk and found yourself quickly shuffling the envelopes into your arm. The squeak of the old rusted metal door to your mailbox seemed to echo down to the end of the street.

When your feet pressed down on the wood of your footsteps you felt much safer.

Until you felt a rough hand land on your shoulder. You knew it wasn't Jonny's, this hand was cold and calloused.

You jumped out of your skin, falling on the steps. and dropped all the envelopes to the ground.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy it's just me, baby.."

"What the fuck are you doing here?!"

You couldn't tell if you were frightened or enraged. How? What? When? Why?

What the hell is your ex partner doing here?

"Hey, is that anyway to treat your significant other? You really thought you got away, huh?" They asked. They held their hand out for you to take.

"Get the fuck away from me! We're not together anymore!"

"Aww, that's cute, that's real cute, baby. But it's okay, there's no hard feelings." They reached out and grabbed your wrist and started pulling you towards them.

"LET GO OF ME! LET GO!" You immediately went into fight mode as you scratched and yanked your hand away from theirs and scrambled to the door.

You could hear their feet stomping up the steps behind you. You slammed the door shut, quickly trying to lock up the door with all the locks.

It didn't take long for your ex to start beating down the door. Calling you out, cursing you out, threatening you.

"JONATHAN!" You began running up the stairs and headed to the bathroom.

"Y/N? Darling, what's wrong?" Jonathan was already running down the stairs and met you halfway. He was wearing a plain shirt and boxers, he had yet to get into the shower, waiting for you.

"I-It..I-I don't even know HOW b-but…"

All his years of studying and being enthralled by the fear in people's eyes.

He loathed this.

He didn't ever want to see that level of fear in your eyes. He didn't want to see you quivering, whimpering, crying.

"Y/N…Y/N, darling breathe please…please breathe. You're okay. I'm here, you're safe, sweetheart." He began walking you the rest of the way up the stairs and to your bedroom.

"I-it's my ex…I-I don't even know how they found me…Jonathan I'm so sorry.."

"Is. Is this the ex you told me about? Who hurt you?" He asked sternly, as he set you down on the edge of the bed.

All you could muster was a nod. "I-Im so sorry, Jon I have no idea how-"

"This isn't your fault, darl-"

CRACK

You screamed and Jonathan's blood ran cold. A medium sized rock had been thrown through your bedroom window.

"J-jonathan…I-I'm scared."

Jon's eyes widened. Any other time someone told him that he'd be grinning with pride, elated to achieve this terror.

Now that it wasn't him causing it, but it was happening from an outside factor towards someone he cared more than anyone or anything in the world.

Jonathan saw red.

"I know, my love." He held you in his arms, rubbing his hands up and down your back. He kissed your cheek and your forehead. "Stay here, lock the door behind me. And no matter what you hear, stay here. Understand?"

"B-but Jonathan…"

"I would say call the police but I don't trust the GCPD as far as I can throw them."

"Jonathan, w-what are you going to do?"

Jonathan looked over his shoulder at you as he opened the door to leave your shared bedroom. You were still shaking in the fetal position on the bed.

"I'm going to show them true terror."

~~~~~

"Y/N!!! Don't make me throw another damn rock! You can't hide from me forever!" You ex hollered to the new hole in your bedroom window.

"Come on, you stupid bitch! How long did you think you could stay away from me?! You can't fucking live without me!"

"I beg to differ…"

"Hey whoa!" They jumped back and looked behind them. They started chuckling.

"Really? You're gonna try and scare me, Y/N? Please, I thought you were more mature than that."

They opened their mouth to say some more degrading things, but the words were caught in his throat. Almost quite literally by the scythe to their throat.

"Trust me…you know nothing about true fear…" The Scarecrow growled into your ex partner's ear.

"Hey, hey, who the hell are you? Cut this shit out, man! This ain't got nothin' to do with you!"

Scarecrow brought the blade closer to their skin. "Oh, but it does…and as to my identity…"

Scarecrow swiped his other hand up to the other side of the ex partner's neck and injected them with his signature fear elixir straight into their jugular.

"I'm your worst nightmare…"

~~~~~~

You were pacing back and forth upstairs. Constantly looking through the hole in your window, but due to the fog you barely made out the two figures outside your home. You couldn't tell who made it out, but you were hoping Jon was okay.

You had no doubt Jon took on his Scarecrow persona to encounter your ex, and you couldn't deny the satisfaction it brought. Knowing that your ex was finally feeling the fear they instilled in you for so long all that time ago.

Some time had passed, almost an hour or two, the fog had cleared some but you didn't see either your ex or Jon outside. Just when you were about to head outside…

You heard the door to the bedroom open.

To anyone else if they saw a tall lanky scarecrow with a burlap mask in their room they would be screeching in fright.

For you, though, you immediately ran into his arms, letting out tears of relief.

"You're okay, I'm so glad you're okay…" You sniffled, as you rubbed your face into his chest.

"Of course I am, my love. Why wouldn't I be? Surely you didn't doubt me?" Jon teased as he slipped the mask off and tossed it to the floor.

"No, no I just…I tried to look, but I couldn't see what was going on…" You explained. "A-and you were both gone."

Jon shushed you softly, he began rubbing your back like he did before. Squeezing and holding you tight. "I'm here now, it's okay, they're gone…"

For a second you think to ask him where he took them, but you didn't want to know. If Jon said they're gone, then they're gone.

Good riddance.

"Thank you, Jonny…" You whispered.

"Anything for you, my love." He kissed the crown of your head.

You squeezed your arms back around him, not wanting to let him go. Sensing this, Jon lifted you up off your feet. You let out a fit of squeals and giggles as you cling to him for dear life.

He lightly tossed you onto the bed, as you giggled and got comfortable under the quilt and sheets. Jonathan began slipping out of the rest of his costume. Going back to his plain shirt and boxer shorts.

When he looked back to you, he couldn't help but chuckle as you reached out for him with adorable grabby hands.

He pulled the covers back and as soon as his body made contact with the mattress you immediately entangled your limbs with his.

You wrapped your arm around his abdomen and your legs wrapped around one of his long ones. "Took you long enough." You muttered, as you laid your head on his chest.

Jonathan chuckled some more as he began placing his arms where they belonged around you. You resonated in his touch; warm and loving.

You propped your head up for a minute and stared into his soft brown eyes. You leaned in and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips

"I love you, my scarecrow…" You whispered almost breathlessly, you laid your head back down and started to doze off.

Jon kissed the top of your head. "And I love you, my sweet raven."

#ahaha I liked this at 4 am this morning #now posting it..ahhh...kinda unsure #rip #hope you guys like it though!#jonathan crane x reader #the scarecrow x reader #dc the scarecrow x reader #ri writes #happy halloween!!#have fun and be safe #love you guyss

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the-fluff-piece · 10 months

Note

Hi! I've been following you for a while and I love your vibe! So.. I had a request that I'm not sure if you'd accept but... Can you write something with prompet 5 law but like, a brother sister thing? Like as if the reader is like law's sister and loves him so much but like chill about it. Either way love your blog!

I talked to the requesting person about details and turns out it should a brother instead of a sister, so don't be confused why reader is male! Also, I want everyone to be fucking proud of me I didn't give reader the name order so that they call themselves law and order, it was hard but I managed to keep it down

This is part of the now closed Follower milestone event

Here's

The mystery of the wailing in whale wood

(Say that ten times really fast, I dare you)

Law and his crew live un whale Wood for a short while before moving on. Everything is fine and he is healing, but at night, the crew and the minks hear a terrible, spooky wailing - is it the white banshee of Zhou???

Brother detective duo shenanigans with a heartwarming ending about friendship (now play the scooby doo music in your head)

Sleep. Law loved sleeping. After the stressful and draining time on the sunny, he felt comfortable to be back with the people he had known for years. He lay in his bunk and stared holes into the bottom of the bed above him - y/n had been always been his bunk buddy, it was a comforting routine. Now sleep. Quiet, relaxing slee-

"Captain, the banshee is back!" Penguin barged in.

Sigh.

Law rose once again to deal with this nuisance.

"Y/n! Get up, we are going to solve this problem!" Law said as he knocked on the upper bunk bed to wake his brother.

You

Law had gotten it in his head to investigate the wailing banshee. It was annoying and no one has been hurt, yet, but Law just was like that. Even if he didn't want to admit it, he had a good heart.

You got up from your comfy bed and jumped down, slipping into your coat as Law got into his. Penguin was a bit shivering, he has always been very afraid of the concept of ghosts and monsters, what a pirate! Good thing you were there to support your captain. Together, you started towards the area where the supposed ghost had been heard.

On the way deeper into the woods, Law felt compelled to recite the facts once more while nervously tipping against the hilt of his sword: "So it started around the time you guys got here" - "correct!" You answer - "and it happened almost every night except the full moon?" - "exactly" - "and the locals tell us that it's an old legend that the ghost of a mink haunts these woods?" - "pretty much, harbinger of doom, announcing bad things to come. After what they have been through not good for morale" you concluded Law's thought. "We should do something, quick" He answered and the both of you made your way to into the woods once again.

"We both know this is not supernatural, right?" Law asked, once again. He tended to use you as a sparring partner for his thoughts, bombarding you with his musings over and over.

"Right" you answered. "There must be tracks, and we are going to find them. Eventually."

You and Law put your heads together. His grumpy eyes stare into yours as you inform each other in short words about the plan - it's always the same plan, night after night.

"We spread out and try to find a clue, we keep in touch with portable den-den mushi. As soon as any of us finds it" Law said, "- we give the signal." You ended. Law nodded. He moved much faster than you and could teleport himself all over the place thanks to his powers, but he was pretty useless in finding small clues and tracking, so it was on you to find the next lead and you both knew it.

Without a further word you two spread out to the sound of distant howling. The wailing "ghost" had a high pitched voice, that was surprisingly loud and carried almost through the whole woods. It sounded like it was lamenting something, but you couldn't make out words. You had already searched in different areas - sooner or later you would find something that would.lead to the true culprit.

You moved slowly, searching for clues on the forest floor. The daily flood the elephant caused didn't make your job much easier, you could only find fresh tracks. As you combed the forest floor, the blue flickering of Law's power reassured you of his presence nearby.

As you crouch led along the soft earth, something white catched your eye - a small tuft of white hair hanging on a tree. The ghost was described as white, finally! You examined the hair - no, fur? white and pretty short, it reminded you of a certain someone. As your eyes searched the forest floor, you began to consider a new possibility.

A scream ripped you out of your thoughts. Law!

You run towards your brother who was staring in horror - at a beetle. You knew that he didn't like nature, but it still baffled you how a man with so much power and resolve was scared of small insects.

"The beetle won't hurt you" You informed him while carefully taking the hand-sized animal out of his sight, setting it down beneath a thick Bush.

Law swallowed audibly and sayd "I know" while blushing in shame. If you weren't in an investigation, you would tease him a bit more. Later.

For now, you were leaving it at that and picked up your last trail, waving for Law to follow you. Just as you thought, big prints could be seen on the ground. This would become interesting.

"I found something, look!" You pointed to the trail. Law nodded, still flustered. He didn't see shit but didn't want to admit it.

Together, you silently moved through the dark forest, slowly approaching the ungodly sounds coming from the darkness, until finally, you could make out words the high pitched voice was screeching: "you can see the new genesis beyond the world..."

"What does it mean?" Law asked seriously as you crept closer to not alert the ghost.

"I think I know..." You told him.

A white figure shined in the moonlight. It was big and round and seemed to be dancing.

You heard it's distressing voice, like nails on a board: "Let's go! New wooorld!" It howled.

Dumbfounded and absolutely unable to process what you two were seeing, you just stood there.

Bepo was dancing in a small clearing in the woods, wearing his pink Uta merchandise shirt, holding a twig in his paw like a microfine and sung, as you now realised. Or rather, tried to sing. Hypnotized, both of you watched his fluffy behind dance around as he shook his rear to the beat.

"The new genesis is this fut-" He froze. In slow motion, his head turned towards his new audience and reveales a pink blush across his face and that he adorned his fur with glitter.

"Ahhhhhyaaaahhhhhhyyyyyyy!" He screamed so loud and highly pitched that your ears threaten to shut down.

"Nooooo it was supposed to be a surprise!" He laments as he unsuccessfully tried to cover up the scene and keep secret whatever was happening.

After all hearts had recovered from the mutual shock, the three of you sat down on the soft forest floor and tried to make sense of this.

Law was already blushing and working hard to keep it together in the face of Bepos cuteness, but his voice was strong as he asked: "Bepo, why are haunting the woods at night?"

"I never meant to scare people! I swear! I never even heard of the story! I just went with it because I needed my privacy to...to..."

"TO?" You and Law asked in unison.

"To practice singing so I could sing for Law now that he is back!" The confession broke out of the white polar bear as he nervously fumbled with his paws.

"Sing...for Law?" You ask as you and your brother looked at each other, puzzled.

"Since he has been so strong fighting a warlord of the sea and all...and now everything here is in ruins...and I thought..." He seemed to realise that his idea didn't make sense to anyone outside of his head and his face turned sad.

You knew your brother, he was fond of his friends and supported them whenever he could. As you looked over, you already saw a soft smile spread across his face.

"I really liked your singing at night" Law stated grumpily and looked away.

"Please continue!" He said.

You knew that he was really touched by his friends idea, even though he was not so much into Uta's songs as the bear. It counted that his friend wanted to make him feel appreciated. You loved your brother very much, and it was awesome to see him form strong and deep connections, even after all you had lost and had to endure.

With a beaming, round bearface, Bepo got into position and coughed. While tapping his foot for rhythm, he started singing in a loud, high voice one of Uta's popular songs. He was no singer by any means, but you could hear his passion in every note. Plus, this waa one of the rare occasions that makes your brother smile, so it was worth it to sit there through the whole night, listening to Bepo's performance together.

When it got late and Bepo's voice sore, you decided to go back to catch some sleep.

"Just tell no one it was me, OK?" Bepo asked of you two before returning.

"I didn't want to scare them..."He looked guilty.

"I will tell them the truth." Law says to a shocked Bepo. "That something absolutely unbelievable and magical happened here tonight" He sayd he waves at you to walk at his side back to camp.

#well fuck how do i tag this #one piece fanfiction #trafalgar law fanfiction #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar one piece #one piece bepo #law loves bepo unconditionally #bepo #heart pirates #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law #law/reader #law/ reader #law & reader #odp follower event

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