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#for some of you it's just 'have a break'
nocek · 9 months
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Is it a stupid idea? Yes. Did I have to go overboard and animate it? No.
But I had to and I'm not sorry ;P
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gabe-lovebot · 29 days
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councilor 3D model
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i learnt 3d modelling from the ground up to bring him to life. he's yours now. do whatever you want with him
[link]
please credit me if you make something using the model (or even ping/link me to it, i would love to see what you made!)
currently available as a .blend, .fbx and an SFM port.
#hello councilnation i'm finally releasing him to the wild#have fun playing toys with him#ultrakill#councilor#councilor ultrakill#3d stuff#obviously with the councilor having just 1 full body image of him means that some stuff i had to improvise on#so you get to enjoy my headcanons on how he looks#(like obviously the wings & halo)#(but also the chestplate design)#but did you know that the councilor's canon design has subtle engravings on his forearm armor pieces?#i only barely noticed them when painting textures and i was floored#i had to add them#to the sfm anon and whoever else wants to use this for sfm stuff-#i did my best with a port for sfm and i'm quite proud of the result#but please be aware i have never used it before so if you find that something doesn't work as it should please please let me know!!#gonna pour my heart out in tags as always so close your eyes if you don't wanna see me being sentimental but#i'm not kidding when i say i learnt 3d modelling from the ground up for this#i have meddled with blender before but never actually came close to finishing a project#and i don't know how i did it and how i kept going#(i do know) (it was my friend encouraging me every time i showed him progress)#this was like 1 entire month in the making#but i'm so fucking proud of this and how it turned out and people's tags in my act 2 render genuinely were such a huge confidence boost#so thank you guys for liking it <3#i'm still very much thinking of doing a version with just his bloodied head#but it might take a while because i want a break and i want to play warframe
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musubiki · 1 month
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danmarch 🐉💎
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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💙❤️Happy Holidays!❤️💙
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canisalbus · 4 months
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turtleblogatlast · 1 month
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Something I’ve been thinking about lately is that small moment in “Air Turtle” where immediately after the Daves lose yet another game, Leo says how sorry he is and how he’s doing his best as the mascot. This moment is so short but it’s honestly jam-packed with a whole heap of characterization.
His need to apologize for things clearly not his fault - especially when it feels like he messes up the job he was given despite doing the best he can (the phrase “it’s not about you” takes a new meaning when this is one of the lessons to be learned from that - that he is not always solely responsible for things going wrong), his need to save face and make a connection with an older adult man in his life (something he consistently does throughout the series - he’s got a few daddy issues, always collecting potential father figures, it’s no wonder he jumps at the bit to keep rapport), and the way he sounds and looks and the words he chooses really pushes how he is just a kid (“Mr. the Dunk, I’m so sorry”).
Like I know it’s a one off moment that doesn’t truly mean much, but when put against the rest of the series it works really well with the rest of Leo’s established character and helps in solidifying later concepts as well.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rise leo#rottmnt headcanons#am I looking too much into things? almost assuredly yes#I actually appreciate how tim immediately goes ‘it’s not your fault’ as well? like he could’ve just blamed this 15/16 year old but he didn’t#but yeah this moment got to me a little mainly because it made me realize that Leo…DOES take responsibility for things a lot#he messes up a ton yeah but he says sorry at a pretty consistent rate#and y’know thinking about it#THIS IS TINFOIL HAT TERRITORY BE WARNED#he’s mentioned being betrayed by his brothers before - I wonder if it was something as simple as taking the fall for like#breaking something of Splinters or whatever#point is it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to get the full blame for something only partially his fault#or not his fault at all in some cases#like in bug busters where Raph gets mad at Leo for not getting captured with them#(I understand Raph’s mindset here a ton - Raph’s the leader and he’s likely lashing out so I don’t blame the poor kid)#but this plus the moment at the beginning of the movie#where only Leo is reprimanded despite Mikey and Donnie having full autonomy to join the fun pizza stacking#make no mistake this is not at all a diss on everyone else!!! it’s just something I noticed#I think that “it’s not about you” doesn’t just pertain to being arrogant and wanting the spotlight#I think it’s also about how responsibility is meant to be shared#and like#Leo DOES mess up a lot! so he’s honestly probably used to having the blame because it is often at least somewhat warranted#he’s specifically described as being good at apologizing after all#tldr: Leo messes up a lot of the time so he is very used to blame and attention both good and bad#even when the full blame should not be solely on his shoulders
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melverie · 5 months
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Can I just say that I absolutely LOVE how ever since they all found out that MC is human and was brought here against their will, it was Lucifer who kept insisting that they shouldn't be the ones to trap MC in the Devildom. That whether they want to stay or not is a decision MC has to make themself and that the brothers should support them no matter what they end up choosing
And now that the moment is finally here, now that MC has confirmed that they indeed plan on heading home, and now that all of his brothers agreed on helping them get back, having forged a pact and lending their powers to do so—
Now that he knows that he's the final piece needed to send them back; that the lingering idea of the yet to be forged pact between them is what's stopping MC from potentially leaving their side for good, leaving his side for good—
Now that they have finally gotten to this point, he realizes something. And he's unable to live with it
And so, he goes back on his word.
He's taking that choice from them.
"I don't want to."
Lucifer's pride is what keeps his voice leveled and neutral, as if it were just another day. As if he everything was completely fine. As if he didn't feel this pain in his heart, almost as if someone had rammed a dagger through his chest over and over and over again
To most people, he'd appear to be in perfect control of his emotions—if only his gaze wouldn't completely obliterated that frail façade of his. The way his beautiful dark eyes shimmering with a hint of blood red silently plead, beg MC to stay...
Internally, he is breaking apart because he knows what he is doing isn't right. He knows that he shouldn't trap them like a bird in a cage, and yet he can't help himself. Not in this situation. Not when it comes to MC
'No'
He—Lucifer, Avatar of Pride himself—is the last thing trapping the very person that finally made him realize what his sister had meant forever ago
'I won't let you go'
How one day, someone would stumble their way into his life, and how he'd love them so wholeheartedly and so deeply that everything else would become trivial as long as he'd get to hold them in his arms
'I can't let you go'
Someone that he'd happily throw away everything for, not even considering any alternatives if only for the shred of a chance at just one last tomorrow with them
'Please stay with us. Please stay with me'
Everything.
'I cannot lose you, MC'
Even if they'll never forgive him for it.
"I'm not going to forge a pact with MC."
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drenched-in-sunlight · 3 months
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monster
Rusty and O’Keeffe talk.
- or, birds are meant for the sky, and not to be shot down by dumb, stupid boys.
* this is a character analysis of Rusty, or rather, the version of him that is in my head. Based on the premise of Rusty/621 and O’Keefe/Flatwell.
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- dragonfly signals the end of summer and the start of winter
- it also represents self-realization and divine revelation
This is like a fever dream (i drew these 19 pages in 3 days), but I’d love to hear what you think :)
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spacedace · 1 month
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Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.
Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.
(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)
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Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.
The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.
A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.
It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.
Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.
Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.
But they were still kids.
Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.
Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.
Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.
Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.
They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.
Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.
Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.
They all knew why.
The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.
That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.
Robin II was an Alley Kid.
A true child of Gotham.
Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.
Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.
He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.
But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.
Bad things happened to good kids all the time.
And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.
Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.
The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.
Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.
Or so the rumors said, at least.
That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.
Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.
And then the news came in.
There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.
Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.
Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.
Alone.
Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.
The Joker wasn’t most folks.
And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.
When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.
Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.
And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.
Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.
But the Bat would find him.
They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.
It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.
Days.
Weeks.
Months.
The Clown still lived.
The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.
No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.
That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.
They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.
And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.
Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.
Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.
Not Robin II either.
Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.
No.
It was a new Robin.
A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.
Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.
Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.
The Clown had killed Robin II.
Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.
Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.
The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.
But he never did.
Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.
Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.
And then the Bat stepped in.
Revived the fucking Clown.
A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.
The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.
He was a good kid.
He deserved better.
Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.
Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.
It was their turn.
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yuri-is-online · 1 month
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Can I request a kind of song fic? You know the song national anthem? The part where it says "red, white, blue is in the sky. Summers in the air, and baby heavens in your eyes". Can I have that with the first 3 dorms? Love your writing!
The familiar tone of cicadas and flushing greens bring about a stereotypical image of summer, and with it the reality of nearly a full year away from your world. No one has said it out loud yet, but it really does look like Twisted Wonderland is going to be your forever home, so it really is time you start thinking about what you want your future to look like...
And someone really seems to want a staring role in it.
I don't listen to Lana at all so I spent a brief moment wondering why someone was requesting I do a song fic based on the American National Anthem. Anyway I listened to the song a few times and came up with an idea, and then another, and another and I am so sorry this took forever. I hope you enjoy. notes: they/them used for Yuu, all scenarios are meant to take place over summer break, and contain a lot of summer themes. Going to the club and making out with Cater, possessive Leona, and mentioned vehicular manslaughter with Floyd. Other than that pretty tame. For other fic please look to my masterlist here.
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Heartslabyul
Riddle
Riddle doesn’t know much about happiness now that he thinks about it.
He assumes he was happy when he played with Trey and Chenya all those years ago, and his mother had always been so insistent that true happiness came from doing well in his school work, and Riddle can say he gets something like happiness from his grades.  But then if that is “happiness” then what is this?  It doesn’t feel like it deserves quite the same word as what he feels like when he gets a good grade, and he certainly doesn’t get the same feeling of “happiness” from Trey as he does from you.  There’s a sting of pain to it that compels him to smile, to stay as close to you as possible when you speak.  
“I’ll miss you when you’re gone.”
That was where the pain had to have come from, but you’re here with him now and he knows you won’t be going back to that great somewhere you had come from and being next to you still hurts.
“Here.”  You tap your metal sparkler ignites his and you smile, wide and free in an attempt to encourage him to enjoy himself.  You must have noticed how tense he is, something that doesn’t change as he tries to force his focus on the sparkler.  It’s simple, short, putting out a bunch of yellow sparks that he swears it shouldn’t have the strength to.  It’s a lot like him, he supposes, he holds it out and up further and watches it spark down, the burnt edges sagging under their own weight as it rages against the night sky and tries to rival the stars.  “Are you going to draw anything?”
“Huh?”  He’s supposed to be having fun.  Are you disappointed in him?  No, you seem to have expected this, you're reaching for new sparklers and fumbling looking for something.
“If you twirl the sparkler through the air it’ll leave light behind.  It looks like drawing shapes.”  You take the risk of nodding towards Ace and Deuce, who he thinks are trying to draw their card suits from how Ace is pointing and Deuce’s face and laughing at the brief flicker of a spade he thinks he sees.  “It won’t stay for long but it’s still fun.”  A lighter, he recognizes the click before he turns back around to you and sees you fumbling with it.  Your hands must be cold, he can’t be happy with that but the strange feeling surges and compels him forward with the gentlest of fires he’s ever conjured.
“You’re the expert, so I’ll trust your advice.”  You jump slightly with the sparks and laughter, saying something he doesn’t hear as he takes his sparkler and joins you in drawing little hearts in the air.  It has to be a silly thing he’s said for you to laugh so much, but he means it so.  If he lets you point out the fun things, he thinks as you toss your second set of spent sparklers into the bucket of water and hold out the next for him to light, he can busy himself with the practical.  And maybe together you can both learn to enjoy that thing called happiness you both don’t know much about.
Trey
“Don’t you think you are being unfair?”  The words come out even though it has got to be pointless to say it; Trey has to know why else would his smile be so “strained,” why else would he be so determined to keep from making eye contact?  And furthermore he has to know you know, that’s why he is standing so close to you despite this new no eye contact rule.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  He continues looping icing in detailed patterns across a particularly complicated cake that you have to stop and stare at in wonder, could you ever get that good?  Trey must have a great deal of patience to do such technical work, shame he has also decided to use that skill to test yours.  You huff and look at your own work, Trey has to know you’ve been looking at him, people can feel the weight of other’s eyes right?  Let’s see how he functions without your attention.
Fine, you assume he’ll be fine, he’s always so unbothered by anything you do.  Cater has always insisted otherwise, but you swear he’s uncaring too. 
“Maybe you should intern at a cake shop.”  You do your best to mimic his voice and he chokes on his laugh, it takes a great deal of strength and perhaps patience that rivals Trey’s own to not turn and look.  His laugh is so genuine you could mistake it for joy.  “That’s what you said.”
“I did, didn't I?  Good advice that.”  His voice is a bit closer now, you try not to think about how that’s possible, you were already working so close to one another how could he get even closer without touching you?  Why do you want him to touch you… 
“Why didn’t you just invite me here?”  That has got to sound more pathetic than it does biting, it certainly feels that way.  “I applied to three separate places, and before I even completed the first line on your little questionnaire I got a call back from them congratulating me on getting hired here.”  Trey doesn’t so much as flinch, you see him in the corner of your eye, pretending to adjust his glasses and inspect your work.
“Maybe I wanted some plausible deniability.”  He’s so sincere you finally look at him and only sort of regret it when you see his triumphant smile.  “But someone got a bit too excited about a friend from NRC finally visiting and chased everyone else off.”  You snort.
“I can’t imagine Cater’s never wanted to come here, what with how he talked it up so much.”
“He has mentioned it once or twice.”  Trey adjusts a strawberry on a cupcake next to you, out of nerves more than need as he wonders over how to word what he wants to stay next.  “But I am glad you decided to come.  I was worried you would say no.”  You snort and Trey laughs slightly as he watches you squirm in indignance and tries not to focus on your lower lip’s quiver.
“Why on earth would I say no?  I’ve been curious about this place since forever.”  There’s flour on your apron he wants to smear on your face as an excuse to touch you and ignore the aching annoyance in his chest.  I don’t want you to be curious about the shop, everyone is.  I want you to be curious about me.
“Well there are more interesting ways to spend your summer than next to an oven.”  He says it nonchalantly as his thumb lingers on your nose just a bit longer than it should and your annoyance fades in place of something he doesn’t know but wants to oh so badly.
“Well maybe I just didn’t have anything better to do.”  He loves how pretend annoyed you get with him, the way your nose twitches and your eyes dart to look anywhere but him.  “And maybe I’ll not have anything better to do this winter or next summer either.”  He loves the security he has to indulge in those little things, even if you can’t ever go back to your old home.
“Oh?  That’s a real shame.”  He finally moves his thumb down your cheek and curls his fingers just under your chin to force you to look at him, to beg you to see a new possibility in his eyes.  “I can fix that.”
Cater
Cater inviting you places wasn’t a new thing, but you had really expected it to become an old one once he hit his fourth year and didn’t constantly see you irl and have to pretend he was as invested in your friendship as you were.  Was that a cruel thing to think?  Sure.  Did you hate yourself for it?  Absolutely.  Was it partially a product of your overwhelming fear of the consequences of opening up to someone with abandonment issues when you were all but guaranteed to permanently abandon him in a way that was so much worse than any of his previous friends?
Well now you were just being way too serious for the type of trip you were currently on.  You’ve never seen so many flashing lights outside of a nightmare but Cater certainly looks like he’s having the time of his life on the dance floor with Lilia and Kalim while you sit next to Trey being “boring” in the corner.  Not that you shouldn’t be at the club, you've just got a lot on your mind and no place to think it. 
“You don’t have to sit here with me if you want to.”  You apologize and Trey laughs, surprisingly not at all awkward.
“I’d make a total fool of myself, and I don’t want to end up on magicam being called someone’s dad.  Again.”  He swirls his drink in his hand and you look down at yours; you’re at a beach if you didn’t remember because of the stray sand in your shoes you would know by the little umbrella in your cup and the cheekily unbuttoned hawaiian shirt that displays the beads around Cater’s neck as he makes sure to fill your entire vision and steal your breath.
“Yuuuuu, c’mon dance with me.”  He grabs both your hands in his, intertwining your fingers and pulling out to the floor with the force of his voice as much as his grip.  “Can’t let you stay in the corner allll night, I’d be a bad senior!”  You think you hear Kalim and Lilia say something to Trey, but Cater’s so close to you, you can’t really hear anything, not even the music or the last call from the bar that sends you and your friends into the street stumbling back towards the hotel Kalim had insisted on booking.  “They’re certainly having fun.”  Cater hasn’t  let go of your hand, thumb circling your palm before finally resting nearby your pulse point.  “Sort of a shame to call it quits now.”  So he says but you can see the night’s been getting to him.  
“If you need a break I don’t think anyone will blame you.”  You squeeze his hand and a little of Cay Cay’s smile returns to Cater’s face as he squeezes back.  “Do you want me to let you sleep when we get back to the rooms?”  
He doesn’t respond immediately.  Those serious thoughts from before bring you back to reality and you finally see how far behind you’ve lagged from the rest of your group.  
“I want to hear your voice.”  The dull fear of abandonment snakes through you both and coaxes out Cater’s words he’d probably wouldn’t have ever said if you weren’t staying and he was completely sober.  It hitches in your breath as he looks at you, Cater’s real unguarded smile on his face as he lets the boardwalk lights shade him in their perfectly imperfect artificial shine.  “I want to hear you say we’re besties out loud again, I want it to be real.  Because I’m mad I screwed things up before thinking you’d be gone when you’re so desperately real.”  You wave the others on ahead, they shake their heads with knowing looks as you stop and lean into Cater, pressing your foreheads together and staring deep into each other’s eyes searching for something neither wants to admit was always there.  “You don’t deserve to be stuck here.”
“You don’t deserve to be stuck in your own head.”  He flinches and you reach to touch his cheek, could you kiss him here?  Would that be moving too fast?  “I’ll be just fine, Cater.”  
“But I want to keep you stuck here with me.”  He mumbles, and makes the move to kiss for you.  Your arms move around his neck and your hands thread through his hair, pulling him close as he never dared to be.
You’ve got all sorts of things you want to say out loud, just for him to hear.
Ace
“It’s so hot.”  Whines Grim, his bright smirk completely betraying his intent as you try not to sigh too loudly as you look over the prices at this ice cream stand Ace had convinced you to check out.  “I reeeeeally wish we had an ice cream sundae right now, don’t you hench human?”  
“You already had half a watermelon earlier,” you mutter “if I get you a whole sundae you might get sick.”  He won’t.  Grim almost never gets sick.  You’ve seen him eat and rank literal dirt.  But still you already are going to be carrying back the groceries Ace’s mom asked for and didn’t need something difficult to carry.  Thankfully there always seems to be something for cats in the Queendom of Roses because the seller helpfully pipes up that he has a tuna flavored push pop that Grim immediately begs for instead.
You consider getting the same one for Ace, but his childish joy when you pass him a cherry popsicle before opening your own is almost worth the missed joke.  “Aww nice, about time you paid me back for everything I do for you.”  Almost.  You roll your eyes and take your share of the grocery bags, half heartedly fighting for Ace to let you take more of them.  He won’t let you, nodding towards Grim in way of an excuse as if the little monster ever lets you take his paw.  He’s been doing a lot of things like that while you’ve been staying with his family, it’s actually been sort of nice.  There has been a sort of domestic give and take between you two for a long time now that you think about it, probably since the first time he tried to sneak his way into your bed, that has translated into something like a routine.  His family has been nice enough not to say anything about it but you know they see it too.  “Hey you have work tomorrow right?”
“Yeah.”  You try to blink your way back to a more normal state of mind.  “Do you want me to bring you back anything?”
“Nah I’ll just text you if I think of something when I’m on my way to pick you up.”  Ace says it so nonchalantly you have to wonder what old Ace would say.  The one who made fun of you for not having magic and ditched a girlfriend without saying anything for being boring, or did you never actually know that guy and got lucky enough to meet the ace of hearts instead?  
“Ya don’t always gotta walk them.”  Grim snorts, unimpressed as always in a way that never fails to make you smile.  “Yuu isn’t gonna disappear!  Headmage said they were here to stay.”  Ace rolls his eyes and you laugh.  For some reason he never fails to take bait from Grim.
“That’s not what it’s about, dummy, walking alone is dangerous.”
“Yeah Grim,” you teasingly scratch his little head “besides the only one who isn’t going to be around forever is Ace.”  
“Do you really think I won’t be around forever?”  Ace actually looks offended, sounds it too and you find yourself indignant.
“You’ve got to have a life eventually.”  You shrug.  “Deuce and me, school, that doesn’t last forever.”   “You can be a part of that life too you know?!”  It’s not the closest to a confession you’ve ever gotten from Ace, but it’s certainly the loudest.  “Look, I get you’ve got a lot going on in your mind right now, and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.  I’ll sit outside that door waiting for you to be ready, and I’ll still be there even if that day never comes.  If you’re really in trouble I’ll bust down that door, just because you’re forced to be here doesn’t mean you’re alone.”  You wait.  You wait for the back track, the joke, the step back into the comfort of the friend zone but it doesn’t come.  He looks you in your eyes and keeps walking forward towards home.  “You have me, you know?”  You’ve always had me.
Deuce
Sometimes you forget how abnormal Deuce is.  Probably because it’s a normal sort of abnormality, if any such thing exists, that doesn’t involve magic or monsters and you would have been able to wrap your mind around no matter what time and place you had met in.  But that doesn’t mean Deuce is not capable of doing or saying things that surprise you.
“Let’s make a pillow fort.”  He says, the familiarity of his joy the only thing that’s keeping you from screaming about his words.  “I’ve never made one before, it’ll be fun!”
“Oh I refuse to believe that.”  You laugh but refuse to protest, Ace isn’t here to bring down the mood and there’s no way Grim would deny something that he thinks is guaranteed to involve popcorn from the few times you’ve camped out in the Ramshackle Lounge and watched TV together.  And to be fair that’s also your plan for tonight, Deuce has a bunch of movies he’s been determined to show you since you agreed to stay over for the Summer.
“Well maybe back when I was a kid with my mom.”  He certainly has enough blankets for it, but then what self respecting house doesn’t have a few extras?  “I’ve never had a friend stay over before…”  If you were in a different mood, if his flushed face wasn’t so cute, you might tease about how you had been here before with Epel, Ortho, and Silver but there’s a tone to the way he says friend.  It’s the way he makes sure to lie as close to you as possible in your little fort and watches you as much as the movie that tells you that he feels, even if he doesn’t think, that this is somehow different.  “Have you?”  He asks it late, as the credits roll on your third or fourth movie and Grim snores.  “I thought maybe we could do something normal for once, but I forgot to ask.”  You laugh and roll your head onto his shoulder and allow yourself to really think about things.
“Thank you.”  It’s the first thought you have, surprising you both.  But should it?  There’s something warm and comforting about being with Deuce.  Natural even.  “I can’t say I’m happy but I feel closer to home than I have in a while.”  Deuce squeezes your hand and rests his head on top of yours.
“I’m glad.  I- know I shouldn’t be but I am sort of happy you’re still here.”  He wants to say he’s happy you are staying, but he knows he can’t.  It would be too cruel and Deuce knows he can’t really understand the depth of what you’ve lost or make up for it with sleep overs or movie nights.  But he does so want to try.  “I promise I’ll do my best to make your time here worth it, I meant what I said during Starsending.  I want you to be there when I get my badge, I want to make you proud of me too.”  
“I’d say I’ll be the loudest in the room but I’ve met your mom.”  You sleepily quip and he laughs.  “And I’m already proud of you, Deucey.”  His half open mouth freezes, his thanks stuck in the softness of your voice as he wills himself to sleep to sear the sound into his brain.
“Sweet dreams, Yuu.”  He’ll make this a summer worth having, he swears it.
Savanaclaw
Leona
“You cannot have driven me out here just to nap.”  Leona’s head is heavy and warm in your lap in stark contrast to the cool greenery that shades you from the rest of the palace.
“Can’t I?”  He opens his eyes to look up at you with a gleam that’s just so smug it makes your heart flutter in what you have to work very hard to convince yourself is annoyance.  “Because I could have sworn I just did.”
You aren’t sure why Leona invited you.  That one time you had visited the Savannah before had been because Grim demanded, not because he wanted you there.  Or at least that’s what you had thought but this time you had received an invitation, and though it had been worded more like a demand (must be a cat thing) it had been surprisingly thoughtful in its accommodations.  Grim certainly had been happy enough to accept on your behalf even before Crowley had agreed to let you go.
“I’m just surprised you would want anyone with you to nap at all.”  You had been afraid to touch him when you saw him, but you swear he wants you to play with his hair with how he purposely spreads it out, like he’s displaying for you.  “I thought you’d be happy to be rid of me.”
“Maybe I would have been.”  His bluntness is only dulled by its predictability, there’s something almost relieving about it if you’re honest.  Everyone has been so insistent on saying they are happy you have stayed and just as eager to avoid talking about the specifics that worry you.  Not Leona, he keeps his green eyes focused on you, striking right at the heart of things.  “But you aren’t half as annoying as everyone else, even if you could stand to fight for yourself a bit more.  Why do you think I invited you here anyway?”
“...so your family wouldn’t bother you about your duties?”  He laughs, loud and free and so forceful he shakes your entire body with its pride.
“Well you’re half right.”  He reaches up and pulls you down, rolling to the side so you’re lying in the bit of ground he’s warmed and caged in the safety of his arms with nowhere to run from the obvious truth.  “You’re here because I want you to be.”  The way he says it, the touch of his forehead against yours and the lull of his heartbeat, it’s like he’s daring you to think of your entire existence in Twisted Wonderland in terms of him and him alone.  And he knows it, he has to he’s too smart to word his sayings in a way that would misconstrue his meaning.  “What’s that shit you herbivores are always yammering on about?  ‘Finding your family?’  Well I found you so you’re going to stay right?”
“Are you offering me citizenship, your majesty?”  Because you have to make this a bit of a joke otherwise you’ll let him in on just how much power over you he really has.
“I’m offering you a home.”  He’s surprisingly serious.  “It’s dark, a bit shit, but you already like those sorts of places if your dorm is anything to go by.  And you’re so annoyingly sunny I’m sure it’ll perk right up when you settle yourself in.”  Just like he does as you move to hide your face in his chest, your breaths matching in the safe lull of slumber under the jungle’s starry sky.
Ruggie
“Man, I love Summer!  People are just so much freer with their cash, y’know shishishishi.”  Ruggie cackles as he settles himself into a booth, still somehow full of energy despite the day you’ve both had while you slump across from him.  “Peak tourism season means loads of opportunities for work!”
“I know Leona said this place was popular but I guess I didn’t realize just how much.”  Ruggie had been so proud to show you this barbeque place after your first night working at the resort with him, and you had been more than happy to know it on nights like this when you had worked overtime meeting some really pushy customers' needs for what felt like way too little money.  Even though this gig paid pretty well some people just weren’t worth shit, something Ruggie knows all too well.
“Yeah, nothing on Sage’s Island ever gets this busy.  You holding up ok?”  Ruggie’s always like this while he’s on the job, you try to tell yourself he doesn’t mean too much by it, that he’s just checking up on you from a place of mutual understanding but it still feels good.  Good enough that the smile you manage is genuine.
“Surprisingly, yeah.”  You could really do with some more sleep than you are going to get when you return to Grim tonight, but then you always could.  “What about you?  You always look twice as busy as me and that’s saying something.”
“Aww, you worried about little old me?  Kiiinda weird Yuu!  I’m the senior here, I'm more used to this.”  He’s the same smug Ruggie, brimming with enough confidence and infectious determination that perks you up just a bit.  Or maybe it’s the fact your food’s come and you are determined to snatch up the utensils and cook before Ruggie can and use it as an excuse to keep all the best cuts for himself.  He doesn’t jump to fight you tonight though, instead he looks contemplative.  “Hey, are you sure you’re ok with how you spent your Summer?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”  The meat sizzles on the grill, dampening the seriousness of the conversation with its pops, and Ruggie tries to focus on it but it’s clear he has been thinking about this for a while.
“Well, my invitation was kinda late.  I was really surprised you didn’t want to spend your Summer hanging out with your friends.”  You don’t say anything immediately, wondering how best to respond to someone who, admittedly, has never really admitted to being your friend despite you both regularly flirting with that and a much deeper concept.  
“I mean I do.”  It’s best to be honest with him, he won’t accept anything else even if it hurts to see you refuse to look at him as you flip the meat to cook its other side and continue thinking out loud.  “But I’m going to be stuck here forever, I want to get a head start on some security.  I can’t live in Ramshackle forever.  And besides…”  It’s best to be honest with him, you reassure yourself as you take a deep breath and give him the cut you know he’ll like best and stare deep into his eyes.  “I was happy to hear from you and get a chance to see you again sooner.”  His ears twitch and his eyes widen, words fumble out of his mouth without any real meaning as you both silently agree to table the conversation and eat your meal.  The best meals aren’t rushed, and the best connections allow themselves the time they need to grow.  You know you’ll both be ok, you promise yourself you will make sure of it.
Jack
“Jack, what is this thing again?”  You ask slightly exasperated, not with the product or with him, just yourself for still not remembering the types of snack foods available in a basic convenience store after a whole school year in this world.  For once, Jack doesn’t complain or pretend he doesn’t want to help, just dutifully walks over and looks at the package before putting it back on the shelf.
“It’s a type of chip, you liked this flavor better.”  He adds it to his basket and you sigh, mutter an apology Jack doesn’t acknowledge verbally, instead touching your thigh gently with his tail.  “Is there anything else you want to bring back to Sage’s Island with you?  If you don’t remember until you get back…”  I won’t send it to you.  That’s what he wants to say, but he cuts himself off before he can.  He can see your mind auto filling it in as you think, and he curses himself silently.  What a fool he’d been, “I won’t need to do that I’ll just know” he hadn’t counted on lying to himself about how he felt.  His mother had, she’d even laughed about it when he had tried to stumble around asking to let you visit.
“A soulmate is something you work for, Jack.  It’s not given to you, you have to earn it.”
Jack likes to think he works hard.  His grades are good, he’s in great shape, his unique magic is truly a gift and he isn’t taking it for granted but you.  You’ve got two separate drinks held up to the light, neither of them are exclusive to the Shaftlands.  You could get them at Sam’s any time but you are squinting as if you have truly never seen them before and he guesses that’s because it’s true.  Why is it so hard to just speak to you?  Is it because you're human?
“If you want something limited, those are over here.”  He takes what you were looking at anyway.  “My sister really likes this one.”  I think you will too, it’s a lot like what you get from the vending machines.  You nod and add it to the basket, turning towards the canned goods and insisting on getting some “fancy” tuna for Grim with a smile that stirs his soul and reassures him of what Jack knows is true even if he can’t speak about it.
“You think he’d notice even if it was different?”  You are shaking your head as you look at the can, making jokes but not bothering to pretend you don’t care.  It’s maddening, how bright you shine for those you care about and how little he can do to give that shine back to you.
“You can’t tell him how much it costs, otherwise he will insist it is.”  That works, you laugh and his tail goes crazy, unable to hide how important your laughter is to him.  I love you.  That’s what he wants to say.  “You should come back next summer.”  But he doesn’t, he rubs his neck and looks at the shelves and thinks it so loud he swears his heart is halfway out of his chest.  There’s a soft look in your eyes that he wants to think says you hear it, but he knows that he can’t take it as an excuse.  Next summer I’ll say it.  I’ll say it every day that you’re here, I promise.  Your smile is everything he needs.
“I look forward to it.”
Octavinelle
Azul
There’s a picture on your phone you don’t think you were meant to see, but magicam lets you delete photos and Azul hasn’t done that yet.  It’s been an hour, the little opened notification sits there taunting you both but still he doesn’t do anything.  Not send a follow up message or delete the photo or anything and FINALLY you’ve had enough so you do something beyond reckless.
You call him.  And he answers.
“Prefect!  Always a pleasure to hear from you.”  Azul sounds so infuriatingly put together you want to die.  You bet he’s sat in some sort of fancy office, leaning back with a smug look on his face while you hug a pillow close to your chest, still in your pajamas seething with nerves over his little mistake.  “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Did you mean to send me a picture of your menu for orientation?”  You cringe at how upset you sound, because you really aren’t exactly.  It’s silly to hope Azul would talk to you over the summer at all, and if he did of course it would be about business.  That’s what talking with Azul is always about.  “Oh and hello I guess.”  But it still pays to be polite if for no other reason than the melodic laughter that you get to hear at what you're sure Azul sees as a cute mistake.
“I would have called you if I hadn’t.”  He sounds like he is reassuring a child, but still pauses to keep you off your game before he continues.  “I was expecting you to give your opinions on it, you have to have some don’t you?”  
“Not for free.”  You snort and he laughs again, slightly more awkwardly this time and you wish you could say that you didn’t feel bad, that you were as cold and calculated as the sea but neither of you are really.  It isn’t wrong to want something is it?  Azul is pro-greed, so surely he would understand you teasing him a bit to keep him in your life for just a bit longer.  “Do you need my opinion for something?”
“Just to hear it.”  Azul has a way of being so damnably dismissive about things it drives you insane.  Just once you want to hear him say- “Besides, it’s been a while since we talked and I thought it would be a good ice breaker.”  You choke on your own thoughts and almost break your jaw trying to keep him from hearing.  “You’ll be there I trust?”
“Orientation?”  Your throat hurts and it shows in your voice, that stupid octopus has got to be so smug right now it would be so insufferable to look at.  You definitely aren’t thinking about it and it definitely isn’t making your struggle to breathe worse.  “Or the Lounge?  Because it’s not like I’ll have anything to do really if you want help or something… I am sort of curious about those house themed drinks, that's a stupid good idea for an orientation by the way.”
“I knew you’d get it!”  Azul sounds so excited it’s almost pure.  “You’ll have to come by beforehand so I can show you how to make them, it took so much time to get the correct flavor pallet for the Savanaclaw and Ignihyde ones you have no idea-”  
And just like that he has you, he has you!  You’re listening and talking to him through all of his explanations, probably sitting somewhere under a tree well put together with Grim on your lap and… smiling he hopes?  While he is curled into a small ball in his room trying to pretend he knew this would work out exactly like he wanted the whole time.
You’ll be there.  When the bell strikes and the mirror opens its gaze on NRC once again he won’t have to be nostalgic for flames and mayhem because you will be there.  And this time he swears he’ll catch you for good.
Jade
It’s the last day of school and yet you have nothing to pack and nothing to do.  The usual excitement that accompanies the final freedom of summer is sort of lost in that void of being unable to go home, and as ashamed as you are to admit it you think you’ll go crazy if you don’t have anywhere to go next summer.  You already felt so overwhelmingly lonely when you first got the news, and you have heard these things get better but it doesn’t feel like it will.  Even the knock at your door fills you with dread, you don’t want to ruin Ace and Deuce’s excitement with your bad mood.  But that’s not what you see when you open your door.
“Hello prefect.”  Jade Leech is tall, so tall he fills up the frame with his stiff figure that you always have noticed for how proper it is but today he seems even more rigid than usual.  Guarded is the word you would use if you could ever picture him being afraid of you.  “May I come in?”  You nod and shut the door behind you both, your idle curiosity drowning out the danger signs as neither of you move or speak.  Jade’s hands stay folded in front of him, yours stay at your sides as you wait.  Wait wait wait for what you don’t know, hadn’t the twins told you they visited their parents over this break?  His mother sounded lovely, why would he want to keep her waiting?  “I was wondering…”  He closes his eyes and brings his hand up to his chin as if he is deep in thought but it reads more like it is taking a lot out of him to say what he wants to “Would you be interested in climbing Mount Moln with me sometime?”  Your breath catches in your throat, the memories of your trip to Harveston still somewhat fresh and inviting in their domesticity.  You hadn’t thought he would remember that little conversation you’d had, but he does.  His wide smile when he opens his eyes to see your fluster screams it’s haunted his dreams as much as it has yours.  “I do seem to recall you expressed a desire to climb it, and since you will be staying with us for the foreseeable future I thought I would take my chance on the proposal.”  Did he have to word it like that?  It’s doing things to your heart.
“I did say that, didn't I?”  You try to center yourself by closing your eyes, it’s always a bad thing to appear desperate around him but your mind insists on remembering.  The feel of the snow, the smell of the woods and the bonfires, and of Jade whether he would believe you or not.  Of the excitement in his voice when he named all the plants he knew, of the funny look on his face when his sled misbehaved, so passive as if it was happening to someone else and not him.  And of the shiver of excitement at his ideas on how to sabotage the other team, whispered quietly in your ear so as not to alert Epel in an effort to convince you of his position.  Or maybe now that you look at him he just wanted the excuse to be close.  “Yes.  Yes.  I would like that very much.”  Jade’s smile stretches to something as dangerous as it is thrilling as he takes his long desired excuse and closes the gap. “I will see you next week then.  Make sure to pack your things.”  You splutter and he takes a deep breath to savor the look as he traces your cheek and takes your weak protests in stride.  He never did say you would be going to Mount Moln this summer, you need to train after all.  Jade Leech intends to take his time with you, assuming you’ll let him of course.
Floyd
“Hehe Floyd and shrimpy, drivin to the beeeeach.  What’ll they do?”  
“Stay in their lane and watch the road.”  Crewel has to have added a “fuck” in there that he didn’t voice if his death grip on the car’s grab handle is anything to go by, and if you are honest you wish he had, it would make this whole experience much more bearable.  You have opted to hold Grim instead, prayer was also an option but that wouldn’t keep Grim from trying to harass Floyd.  He’s laughing now, saying something to Professor Crewel you can’t quite place, maybe adding a new verse to his little song that admittedly sounds kind of catchy.  Floyd has a very nice voice you swear he only ever uses to make fun of people, not that you could see him ever doing anything with it since that would take too much repetitive work.  “Pull off the exit here and make sure to park WITHIN the lines this time.”  Crewel snaps and you find yourself finally at a merciful stop, and unable to free yourself and Grim from your seatbelts fast enough under the guise of “getting your things” from the trunk.  
You aren’t fast enough to avoid Floyd.  He’s there as soon as you open the trunk, tell tale smirk on his face.
“Well shrimpy?  I’m waitin’”  He’s giggling, the only thing that’s keeping him from kicking his feet is their need to be on solid ground to keep him upright.
“You suck.”  You say completely deadpan without a hint of irony.  “Congratulations I didn’t know anybody could do it that bad.  Why did you want to try learning to drive again?  They don’t have cars under the sea do they?”  Floyd seems amused by your attempt to steam past your little insults, choosing to ignore them for now and shrug as he takes the umbrellas out of the car and closes it.  
“It seemed fun.  Beakerfish is always goin on about ‘em and Pops says they get stupid expensive.  Why’s that huh?  You humans sure do like buying shit just to break it.”  He doesn’t move immediately, like he’s waiting for something and determined to block your way until he gets it.  So you take a deep breath and lie to yourself that it’s just this one answer.
“Floyd, most people don’t wreck their cars on purpose.”  It should be the most obvious thing in the world, but still he doesn’t move.  His smile gets wider and his eyes blaze with determined focus, for some reason he gets closer to you, one hand resting above you on the car to loosely cage you against it.  He has to know what he’s doing here too, Floyd’s a lot but he’s not stupid. “Aww really, shrimpy?  There’s so many movies and games ‘bout it you’d think that’s the whole point of havin’ em.”  He giggles exactly like he does before moving in with a squeeze, bending to whisper in your ear as if Crewel isn’t just on the other side of the vehicle still holding that damn crop and just looking for an excuse to strike.  “That’s not all they do in the movies though, huh Yuu?  Maybe I wanna take you someplace nice,quiet, and all alone for once~”  And just like he’s gone, back to bothering your professor who you know is chastising himself for agreeing to chaperone this trip while you try desperately to catch your breath.
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puppyeared · 1 year
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I just skimmed through the art part of your blog and holy bajeebus your LMK art is so beautiful and the headcanon ideas you come up with are so good I wanna steal em-
Kinda wanna see like a part 2 of the little angst you did between MK and Macaque a while ago. It's so interesting and I wanna see Macaque's reaction in your art style. (You don't have to of course, it's just a suggestion [idk if i spelled that right])
Thanks for reading and hope you have a good day/night!
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Hope this is to your liking ^^
Part one here
#I’m sure there are some character nuances im forgetting but well 🤷🏽#I want their misunderstanding or whatever they have going on between then come to a head. literally just going ‘wait what’#for me I think it’s entirely possible that there was an actual fight and maybe tension leading up to that point#cause I feel like macaque is not just bitter about thinking he died to wukong but maybe some stuff that built up to that#maybe the fight was just the breaking point. maybe they’re idiots who don’t talk about it because they think they’re on the same page idk#chipper-smol wrote a cool theory abt them using macaques ‘you’re nothing’ line in s4ep1. from what I understand it could be a direct parall#parallel to when he said that to MK right before MK regained his nerve and hit macaque in the eye.. since flying bark foreshadowed monkey mk#waaaay back in season 1 (where his shadow is his monkey form in the opening) i think that could be deliberate#and they could have gotten billy to voice an entirely different line for that scene. but they reused his line from s3#in a very specific scene with wukongs narrative foil. hm#that aside I would have liked to hear billy voice the ‘you abandoned me’ line that would have killed me. but that’s just me lol#also looking at this I should have shaded the last frame to make it look more dramatic and serious but I ran out of time :(#if anything I want to see MK try and help them get back together. poor kid tries so hard to understand people so I think it would be cool to#see that happen. that’s what I like about him.. he asked macaque why he was working for LBD instead of accusing him of dooming everyone bc#he wants to and he tried to comfort spider queen by admitting he was scared of LBD too 😭😭#my art#myart#Lego Monkie kid#lmk#Monkie kid#lmk spoilers#Lego Monkie kid spoilers#lmk macaque#six eared macaque#lmk sun wukong#lmk swk#lmk MK#lmk xiaotian#lmk season 4#Lego Monkie kid s4
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echosong971 · 6 months
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might make a more dramatic sketch of him losing a legion arm but for now have this
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ganondoodle · 7 months
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rough beast ganondorf design + sketches + notes design combines the typical boar form (dark beast + cloud form from botw), the oni one (demon king gan) hint at the draconic one to come but keep part of his humanity with his clothing being mostly intact
as the battle with Demon King Ganondorf comes to an end, the sages previously knocked out start to wake up again, he is cornered and hurt and as fear of being imprisoned, tortured and exploited overwhelms him he transforms into the Beast form, breaking the arena you were fighting him in and him going for Zelda as she is the biggest threat (he remembers her destroying dark beast gan and she reminds him of sonia, who is the one you sealed his human body back in the day)
you and zelda flee through the cracks of the earth as more earthquakes happen with a beast at your heels thats now truly only out to kill as fast as possible as he burrows after you (first sketch)
the path takes you both just below the surface and as you are trapped in a dead end zelda shields herself and link with her light shield ability, which protects you both from immediate damage but cant soften the impact from gan charging at you, the impact of which breaks you all three to the surface and the battle takes place in the same spot as botws dark beast fight-
fight is very challenging as gan is smaller than the dark best version, jumping and charging at you while still able to cast spells, now truly throwing everything he can at you in the hopes of ending you both
fight ends with you shooting an arrow at zelda, her deflecting it at the right angle and it shooting off the enigma stone on gans forehead; he falls seemingly defeated and as zelda runs to take the stone away gan through sheer panic lunges for the stone triggering his dragon transformation and making way for the final fight
(summary of the end: in the final fight gan snatches up both link and zelda once he transformed into the black dragon and takes flight toward the sky, zelda falls from between his teeth and knowing that she cant get to link and help him in any way from the ground she, while falling, takes out the enigma stone she has kept in a save container in her backpack all this time and swallows it for her own transformation, in her white dragon form she takes active action and charges at gans head so link is freed, then supports him in the fight itself; at the end link plunges into dragon-gans mouth to reach the stone on the inside where he makes use of the 'medicine' previously made using the moonbloom taked from kogas secret lab, link and the stone are spit out and as gan reverses into a human and falls link is caught by zelda and he uses the second charge of it on her to bring her back as well; as all three fall from the skies as the sages have made their way through the tunnel that beast gan made earlier, they help link and zelda getting to the ground safely while the yiga do the same for gan - final end end isnt determined yet but this is waht i got so far and even if i have written this once before i felt it was fitting to do it again and no you cant tell me this is too much of a wishfulfillment thing bc it literally is just that as i cant actualyl change whats in the game, so even if im trying to make it all fit well together i can still do what i want nhakjdbgshdbhsjka)
(totk rewritten project)
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theminecraftbee · 2 months
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Joel sits awkwardly at a family dinner table that isn’t for him.
It’s nice and all, he reckons, for Impulse’s family to invite him over after he leaves the hospital. Even before—everything—Joel’s family hadn’t really been the “big meal around a big table” type, so he’s getting some new experiences here too. And it’s nice and all, that they want to thank him for his role in finding Skizz.
But like. It’s not like he or Impulse or Skizz could explain how it happened, when asked. “Magic brain ghosts” and “evil butterflies” and “Joel still isn’t certain all of that was real and is trying to pretend it wasn’t” puts a damper on that. Also, adults are kind of shit at talking around the fact Joel’s whole family is dead, so he gets the sense he’s sort of harshing the vibes, you know?
Still. It’s a nice gesture. He guesses. It’s free food at least, which is decent, and as close as Impulse and Skizz are, every time one of Impulse’s family says something stupid, Skizz taps Joel’s leg with his foot or steals a roll or something, and it makes Joel feel…
He’d have been sad if Skizz had died, probably. Like, he wouldn’t know. He didn’t come here to make friends, he came here to get a degree and get out. Also, that’s stupid, because it’s not like Joel would have known he was missing a really awkward congratulatory family dinner in which Skizz kept on trying to sneakily steal beans. Probably would have just moved right on. He’s not… friendly.
But.
They stand outside afterwards, waving by to Impulse, promising to walk together so that neither of them Vanish. They’re quiet.
“Thanks, man. That meant a lot to them,” Skizz says.
“Yeah, well, I can do stupid things for free food,” Joel says.
Skizz laughs. “It was nice having you there, too. Man, they’re even worse with you! It’s like not knowing you means they’re even more awkward about family tragedy.”
“Trust me, most adults are way worse. You should see my social worker,” Joel says.
“Didn’t he ditch you, dude?”
“Haha, yeah, he did,” Joel says.
They stare up at the streetlamps together.
“I was really ready to go for a bit there,” Skizz says. Joel’s hackles raise. Oh no. Emotions. Bad. Go away. “It was like—man, it felt like the whole world was empty. But when you showed up, it’s like I remembered… I’d miss dinners, dude.”
“I have no idea why, that kinda sucked,” Joel says, baffled and sarcastic, because he’s a moron who can’t handle emotional conversations, this is why everyone avoided him at the funeral, stupid.
Skizz breaks out laughing.
“You’re great, man! I’m glad we met. Uh, my place is only a block away, and I won’t go following any stupid butterflies. See you at school?”
“Yeah man. See you,” Joel says—
I am thou.
Thou art I.
Thou hath formed a new bond.
With the power of the Chariot Arcana, you shall build the chains with which to hold on to reality.
RANK 1!
“What the hell?” Joel says, tripping over his feet. “What? What? Where did—what the fuck that wasn’t Pygmalion oh god do I have more than one voice in my head—”
“Dude, are you okay?”
Skizz’s almost frustratingly strong and comforting arms grab Joel.
“Tell me you heard that,” Joel says desperately.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about. I could take you back to the hospital—no?”
“I am either crazy or am going to end up in a government lab?” Joel says, voice getting high and squeaky.
“We can ask Mr. Hills about it? He came to talk to me after I woke up in the hospital, apparently he like, knows stuff,” Skizz says.
“I don’t wanna,” Joel says.
“Tough luck, buddy, you just almost fell over and cracked your head open!”
Suddenly, Joel remembers a long-nosed man and a blonde in a very blue boat. He remembers a cryptic conversation about bonds and power and their importance. He takes a deep breath. “Can you cover your ears for a moment?” he says.
“Yeah, sure thing, why—”
Joel, as loudly as he can, screams. He hears several birds fly away. He pants.
“…Joel,” Skizz says.
“Yeah thanks man don’t worry about it let’s never speak of this again I’m sure it’s nothing. I definitely didn’t have a weird dream about this and should go to bed.”
“Yeah, okay, whatever you say,” Skizz says cheerfully before laughing, which Joel continues grumbling about all the way back to his apartment.
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lazylittledragon · 8 months
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don't you love when you Just stopped feeling guilty about eating the things you like and then one of your parents drops the "i'm concerned about your diet"
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poethebeloved · 10 months
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the issue with discussions of "lore" is that people are thinking about/defining "lore" completely wrong. people beg for lore thinking that there must be universe-altering events constantly happening, and without that the story is not progressing. but large events like q!cellbit's kidnapping or q!roier and everyone going to rescue bobby are only one aspect of "lore" right?
to me, "lore" is anything that tells us something about the way the universe works or who the characters are that was not already known. q!foolish being batman? LORE!!! richarlyson hating baths? LORE!!!
people refuse to take these silly one-off events/comments and dismiss them in favor of major lore events, but that small stuff is necessary for the big stuff to pan out. I mean, without small things like richarlyson telling q!roier that q!cellbit easily falls for flirting, would we have built up to the wedding? without Tallulah/everyone on the server teasing q!quackity about his crush on q!wilbur, would we have had the "wilbur party" explosion?
at the end of the day, 99% of what the creators are doing is contributing to the lore (of at least their character if not the whole server) because they are roleplaying characters and the things they say are part of their character and become their lore. stop hating on creators for "not doing lore" when they are actively taking care of their egg or creating builds or doing silly schemes. because that is still lore that can and often will culminate in these larger narratively satisfying events!
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