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#and he learned from his mistake

little-pondhead · 6 days

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Your Ancient History, Written In Wax

Danny knew he should have put better security around the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep. It wasn’t even Vlad who opened it this time! The fruitloop was too busy doing his actual mayor duties because for some godforsaken reason, the man got re-elected.

No, it wasn’t Vlad. And it wasn’t Fright Knight, either. Nor the Observants. Who opened the Sarcophagus, then? Danny didn’t have time to find out as Pariah Dark promptly tore open a hole in reality and hunting Danny down.

The battle was longer this time. He didn’t have the Ecto-Skeleton, as that was the first thing Pariah had destroyed. The halfa had grown a lot over the past few years, and learned some new tricks, but apparently sleeping in a magic ghost box meant that Pariah had absorbed a lot of power. The bigger ghost acted like a one-man army!

Amity Park was caught in the middle of the battle, but the residents made sure it went no further than that. Vlad and the Fentons made a barrier around the town to keep the destruction from leaking. Sam, Tucker, and Dani did crowd control while Danny faced the king head-on.

Their battle shook the Zone and pulled them wildly between the mortal plane and the afterlife. Sometimes, residents noticed a blow from Pariah transported them to the age of the dinosaurs, and Phantom’s Wail brought them to an unknown future. Then they were in a desert. Then a blazing forest. Then underwater. It went on like that, but no one dared step foot outside of Amity. They couldn’t risk being left behind.

It took ages to beat him, but eventually, Danny stood above the old ghost king, encasing his symbols of power in ice so they couldn’t be used again. He refused to claim the title for himself. Tired as he was, Danny handed the objects off to Clockwork for safe keeping and started repairing the damage Pariah had done to the town. The tear he’d made was too big to fix, for now, so no one bothered. They just welcomed their new ghostly neighbors with open arms and worked together to restore Amity Park.

Finally, the day came to bring down the barrier. People were gathered around the giant device the Fentons had built to sustain it. Danny had brought Clockwork to Amity, to double check that they had returned to the right time and dimension.

Clockwork assured everyone that they were in the right spot, and only a small amount of time had passed, so the Fentons gave the signal to drop the shield.

Very quickly did they discover that something was wrong. The air smelled different. The noise of the nearby city, Elmerton, was louder and more chaotic. Something was there that wasn’t before, and it put everyone on edge.

Clockwork smiled, made a remark about the town fitting in better than before, and disappearing before Danny could catch him.

Frantic, Danny had a few of his ghost buds stay behind to protect the town while he investigated.

He flew far and wide, steadily growing horrified at the changes the world had undergone. Heroes, villains, rampant crime and alien invasions. The Earth was unrecognizable. There were people moving around the stars like it was second nature and others raising dead gods like the apocalypse was coming. Magic and ectoplasm was everywhere, rather than following the ley lines like they were supposed to.

Danny returned to Amity.

The fight with Pariah had taken them through space and time. Somewhere along the way, they had changed the course of history so badly that this now felt like an alien world.

How was he supposed to fix this?

In the Watchtower, The Flash was wrapping up monitor duty while Impulse buzzed around him, a little more jittery than usual. The boy was talking a mile a minute, when alarms started blaring an alarming green. Flash had never seen this alarm before, and its crackling whine was grating on his ears.

Flash returned to the monitor, frantically clicking around to find the issue, but nothing was popping up. No major disasters, no invasions, no declarations of war. Nothing! What was causing the alarm?

Impulse swore and zipped to a window, pressing his face against it and staring down at Earth. “Fuck! It’s today isn’t it? I forgot!”

“What’s today?” Flash asked. He shot off a text to Batman, asking if it was an error. The big Bat said it wasn’t, and that he would be there soon.

“The arrival of Amity Park. I learned about this in school; the alarm always gives me headaches.”

Flash turned to his grandson, getting his attention. “Bart,” he stressed. “What are you talking about?”

Impulse barely glanced over his shoulder. Now that Flash was facing him, he could see a strong glow coming from Earth. “The first villain, first anti-villain, and the first hero,” he said anxiously. “They all protect the town of the original metas. They’re all here.”

“Here? Now??”

“Yeah? They weren’t before, but they are now. The first hero said there was time stuff involved, which was what inspired me to start practicing time travel in the first place.”

“I’m not following.”

“It’s okay. We should probably go welcome them before they tear apart Illinois, though. The history I remember says that some of them freaked and destroyed a chunk of the Midwest during a fight with each other.”

“WHAT?”

#dpxdc #pondhead blurbs #liminal amity park #I’ve seen stuff like this in the mhaxdp fandom and I eat it up every time #basically the fight with Pariah caused the town to jump through time a little #and while they THOUGHT they were keeping everything in #shit leaked out and tainted those points in time #so technically #historically and genetically speaking #Amity Park is the origin point for the meta gene and Danny made history as the first hero #because Clockwork is a little shit #everyone embodies a basic ability and it has grown from there #the flash family are direct descendants of Dani (speed force Dani for the win)#Dash is the reason super strength exists #so on and so forth #go buck wild #bart learned about it briefly in history class in the 30th century #practically hero worships them #booster gold knows about them too but in contrast to Bart’s excitement #booster is fucking terrified because there was a period where Amity Park rebelled against the US government #and he’s from that specific time #he learned to fear phantom because he lived during that part while Bart is from farther in the future when those issues got resolved #guess who’s chosen to welcome the town? >:)#if you’re wondering what happened to the GIW #they turned into the branch Amanda Waller runs #Danny is the first hero #Vlad the first villain #and Dani the first anti hero #there’s an arc where Danny is trying to fix things but clockwork won’t let him into the timestream and all the heroes are horrified #because yeah Danny is the OG but if he goes back in time to fix his ‘mistake’ what will happen to them?

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from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 7 months

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I think what I like best about Éomer and why he’s my favorite LOTR character is that he’s so thoroughly relatable. He’s not an ennobled elf with thousands of years of wisdom. He doesn’t come from an exalted bloodline with the intellectual and cultural inheritance of Numenor behind him. He’s not a sweet, gold-hearted little naif with unlimited stores of optimism. (There’s nothing wrong with anyone who meets those definitions–I just don’t personally see myself in them!) He’s a real, living, breathing human who has limitations and makes mistakes and gets cranky but is always trying to do the right thing. And that really speaks to me.

Even better, he usually succeeds despite his limitations (he is never taken in by Grima or Saruman, he helps Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli even though doing so forces him to break Rohan law, etc.) because he’s an excellent judge of character, always has good intentions, and *most importantly to me* he learns and grows from his mistakes. Éomer has no problem taking in new info, admitting that he was wrong, and then course correcting as needed (he literally says the words “I would gladly learn better” at one point!). It happens over and over, after his prejudices against the elves are called out, during his interactions with Ghan Buri Ghan, once Gandalf wizard-splains the concept of patriarchy to him, etc. He doesn’t get defensive or try to justify bad beliefs and practices. He is open-minded and humble enough to update his understanding of the world and then try to do better. Why wouldn’t I love that?

Oh, and he’s hot. Just, like, scaldingly hot.

#eomer #eomer eadig #lotr #lord of the rings #he’s the best #I love a man who can admit when he’s wrong and learn from his mistakes

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youjustwaitsunshine · 1 month

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anyways i genuinely and deeply believe that seb is one of the best, well-rounded, most talented racing drivers currently active and i think no matter where he was racing, he'd adapt within less than one season. he's incredibly versatile, everyone who has worked with him praises his quick understanding, intelligence and detailed feedback. he's a genius on track and seizes every opportunity he can and any team across all of motorsport recognizes his talent. so many other drivers know him to be courteous and friendly and so many racing series want to win him (and the fanbase and recognition that comes with him) to drive for them. It's clear that once a team is genuinely happy to have him and listens to him, he's a major force that very few other drivers could come up against.

#he's so completely charming #he's always kind to his fans. every time ive met him he's spent all the time he could and then some with fans and never seemed annoyed #he's so smart. on track like that pitlane overtake. off track on bbc question time #his racecraft is amazing remember when some car was crashed in/near monaco pit entry and he just whipped the car round into the pits?#or monaco 2021 #he cares so much and wants to know so much and just in general is so curious and interested..#and another thing is how he grows from his mistakes and how he keeps learning #and he has his faults! hes a little bitch sometimes. he used to be super annoying towards female interviewers!#but he did grow from that and hes a much better much more conscious person now #and even in 2021/22 some stuff he said was badly worded and embarrassing to hear but he also learned from that and said it differently after #i jsut love seb so so much #embarrassing that hes been my beloved since 2010. or well if you only count the current hyperfixation flareup when i got properly back into #f1; then since 2019 #like i swearrr i have not hyperfixated on anyone/anything as hard as this man

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acourtofthought · 7 months

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242 Reasons Why Lucien is the GOAT of the ACOTAR Series

“I’m Lucien. Courtier and emissary.” He gestured to me with a flourish. “Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold.”

Lucien smirked. “Apologies, Feyre.”

I finally found Lucien astride a black gelding, grinning down at me with too-white teeth.

“I admire your balls, Feyre—I really do. Or maybe it’s stupidity

“A valiant effort,” Lucien said with a smirk.

Lucien snorted but didn’t say anything else

“I might die of surprise,” Lucien said behind me. “You made a joke, Feyre.”

A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle’s contents and chuckling with a muttered “Brushed.”

Lucien remained sitting on the blanket and lifted the bottle of wine in salute. He took a slug from it as he sprawled on his back and gazed at the green canopy.

He sighed, looking skyward before he studied me warily, that metal eye narrowing with unnerving focus.

I wondered—wondered if being emissary also meant being spymaster.

“I didn’t keep my mouth shut when I should have, and was punished for it.”

“Well, thank the Cauldron that you didn’t. Cleaning up that mess would have ruined the rest of my day.”

He winced. “Shit, Feyre—I’m not that old.”

Lucien huffed a laugh. “Not as good as Tam, but I know how to handle my weapons.”

“Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress?

Lucien sighed as he looked me over. “Do you ever stop being so serious and dull?”. “Do you ever stop being such a prick?” I snapped back. But Lucien grinned at me. “Much better.”

The face of Tamlin’s emissary—more court-trained and calculating than I’d seen him yet.

In lieu of a pretty breakfast table by the window, a worn worktable dominated the space, covered in various weapons.

It was there he sat, wearing only a white shirt and trousers, his red hair unbound and gleaming like liquid fire. Tamlin’s court-trained emissary, but a warrior in his own right.

“I had to go sort out some hotheads on the northern border—official emissary business,” he said, setting down the hunting knife he’d been cleaning, a long, vicious blade.

Lucien leaned back in his chair, smiling with feline delight.

Lucien never cared about it, never expected to be crowned High Lord, so he spent his youth doing everything a High Lord’s son probably shouldn’t: wandering the courts, making friends with the sons of other High Lords”—

he’d already made many friends across the courts and had always been good at talking to people.

Lucien told her to go back to the shit-hole she’d crawled out of. She took his eye as punishment.

The metal eye narrowed on me while the other remained wary, unimpressed. “Yes?”

The look he gave me was more contemplative than any he’d given me before. “I know far too many High Fae and lesser faeries who wouldn’t have seen it that way—or bothered.”

He reached for something at his side and tossed it to me. I had to fight to stay in the saddle as I fumbled for it—a jeweled hunting knife. / I’d never held one so finely crafted, so perfectly balanced.

“Burn in Hell,” Lucien replied for Tamlin.

“Idiot!” he yelled at me, then glanced behind him toward where the other faeries stared. “Useless human fool.” Without further word, he slung me over his shoulder as if I were a sack of potatoes.

I found that he was running—fast. Faster than anything should be able to move.

I could have sworn that Lucien was sleeping upright, fork in hand.

Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright.

“Faerie pig!” I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair.

“Well, I’m late for something incredibly important,” Lucien said, and before I could call him on his outright lie or beg him to stay, the fox-masked faerie vanished.

Lucien, claiming that he had miserable emissary business to attend to,

Lucien, mercifully, appeared like Lucien. I didn’t ask whether that was because Tamlin had informed him to put up a better glamour or because he didn’t bother trying to be something he wasn’t.

“I see,” I lied, not quite seeing at all. Lucien chuckled, sensing it

He used the dagger to clean his nails. “I’ve been busy. So have you, I take it.”

Lucien climbed the statue to remove the head.

“Cauldron boil me,” Lucien whistled as I came down the stairs. “She looks positively Fae.”

“Unfortunately for you and your neck,” Lucien countered, “tonight’s just a party.” “Do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?” Lucien winked at me.

“So there’s singing and dancing and excessive drinking,” Lucien chimed in, falling into step beside me. “And dallying,” he added with a wicked grin.

“Remember the last time you ignored my warning?” He poked me in the neck, and I batted his hand away.

“I also remember you telling me how witchberries were harmless, and the next thing I knew, I was half-delirious and falling all over myself,” I said, recalling the afternoon from a few weeks ago. I’d had hallucinations for hours afterward, and Lucien had laughed himself sick—enough so that Tamlin had chucked him into the reflection pool.

His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge.

“Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered,

“Idiot,” he said when he looked at my face. “Drunken idiot.”

I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me. “I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said

Lucien lead me to the window, where he pushed me against the velvet drapes. / The tang of magic shoved itself up my nostrils. Though his sword was pointed at the floor, Lucien’s grip tightened on it until his knuckles turned white. Magic—a glamour. To conceal me, to make me a part of Lucien—invisible, hidden by the faerie’s magic and scent.

Lucien pointed his sword at Rhysand. “Watch your filthy mouth.”

Lucien spat at Rhysand’s feet and shoved his sword between us.

“You draw blood from me, Lucien, and you’ll learn how quickly Amarantha’s whore can make the entire Autumn Court bleed. Especially its darling Lady.” The color leeched from Lucien’s face, but he held his ground.

Lucien stared him down for a moment, spat on the ground, and stormed up the stairs.

“Well, at least we don’t have to lie to you anymore. Let’s clean you up a bit.”

“Fixed—as pert and pretty as before.” He smirked at me.

“Her name, Emissary?” Amarantha asked of Lucien. But Lucien only glanced at Tamlin before closing his eyes and squaring his shoulders.

“I thought you would have learned your lesson, Lucien. Though this time your silence will damn you as much as your tongue.” Lucien kept his eyes shut. Ready—he was ready for Rhysand to wipe out everything he was, to turn his mind, his self, into dust.

Then, shattering the silence like a shooting star, a voice—Lucien’s—bellowed across the chamber. “TO YOUR LEFT!”

She listened, of course—but only after she made Tamlin bestow Lucien’s punishment. Twenty lashes.”

He unclasped his cloak and set it around my shoulders.

“It’s why I couldn’t come sooner,” he said, his throat bobbing. “She used her—used our powers to keep my back from healing. I haven’t been able to move until today.”

The brutally scarred face beneath was still handsome—his features sharp and elegant.

“Tam!” Lucien cried over the chaos. A sword hurtled through the air, a shooting star of steel.

Lucien hunted down five naga yesterday.”

Lucien had gifted both to me—the dagger during the months before Amarantha, the belt in the weeks after her downfall, when I’d carried the dagger, along with many others, everywhere I went. You might as well look good if you’re going to arm yourself to the teeth, he’d said.

Last week, I’d finally asked him if she’d set her sights on him, and Lucien had merely given me a look, snarling softly, before stalking off

the right hand of a High Lord and another High Lord’s son.

“I didn’t lie,” Lucien said tightly. “I technically did fall off my horse.” He patted his mount’s flank. “After one of them tackled me off her.”

I am the first one the others look to—I set the example.

“I was forced to watch as my father butchered the female I loved. My brothers forced me to watch.”

“Please,” Lucien said, bowing his head gracefully. “The effort to rebuild is our burden to share. It would be our honor.”

He assured me that he hated the gatherings as much as I did, and that Lucien was the only one who really enjoyed himself,

Lucien intervened calmly, “I already have my sources looking into it.”

Lucien sighed a bit and said to Tamlin, “If we perhaps trained her in secret—”

Lucien muttered something that sounded like a plea to the Cauldron.

Lucien took a deep breath that sounded a lot like: “Here we go.”

Lucien cleared his throat. “She meant no harm, Tam.”/ Lucien held his gaze. “Worse things have happened, worse things can happen. Just relax.”

Thoughts slammed into me, images and memories, a pattern of thinking and feeling that was old, and clever, and sad, so endlessly sad and guilt-ridden, hopeless—

“How long have the claws been appearing?” he said softly. "There's only so much I can do,” he said hoarsely. “But I’ll ask him tonight. About the training. The powers will manifest whether we train you or not, no matter who is around. I’ll ask him tonight,” he repeated.

They will hunt her, and kill her, Ianthe had hissed at Lucien. Lucien had growled back, They’ll do it anyway, so what’s the difference?

We are not assassins, Lucien had cut in. Rhys is what he is, but who would take his place—. Lucien had gone on, his tone pleading, Tamlin. Tam. Just let her train, let her master this—if the other High Lords do come for her, let her stand a chance...

His red hair was tied back, and there wasn’t a hint of finery on him: just armored leather, swords, knives

Lucien, beside Tamlin, again put a hand on his sword. “Stop this.”

“That is enough.” Lucien surged for Elain, for the Cauldron.

Lucien snarled at the king over the bite of the magic at his throat, “Don’t just leave her on the damned floor—” There was a flare of light, and a scrape, and then Lucien was stalking toward Elain, freed of his restraints.

As Lucien took off his jacket, kneeling before Elain.

“She is no such thing,” she said, and shoved him again. Lucien didn’t move an inch.

Perhaps you’ll get a handsome Fae lord as your mate, too.”

Lucien’s answering growl was nothing short of feral.

Lucien spun toward me, and that metal eye whirred and narrowed. Centuries of cultivated reason clicked into place.

But Lucien was watching me warily. Too warily.

His gaze on me. Face hard. As if he’d seen through every lie. As if he knew of the second tattoo beneath my glove, and the glamour I now kept on it. As if he knew that they had let a fox into a chicken coop—and he could do nothing. Not unless he never wanted to see his mate—Elain—again.

It was Lucien who answered, studying my painting as if it held the proof I knew he was searching for.

Lucien remained leaning against the door across from mine. His room. I didn’t doubt he’d ensured I now stayed across from him. Didn’t doubt that the metal eye he possessed was always turned toward my own chambers, even while he slept.

“She’s going to spin a story that you’ll want to hear,” Lucien warned. / Lucien halted me with a hand around my elbow. “You’re smarter than that.” I studied the broad, tan hand wrapped around my elbow.

Lucien breathed, “Where is he keeping her?” / “Tell me anyway. List all of them.”. “You’ll die the moment you set foot in his territory.” “I survived well enough when I found you.”

Lucien only nodded. But I felt his gaze on my back, fixed right on my spine, as I headed downstairs

Lucien answered, “If you expect our gratitude, you’ll be waiting a while, Ianthe.”

Lucien seemed to be trying very, very hard not to roll his eyes.

I could practically feel the snide remark simmering in Lucien.

“My emissary knows the wall as well as any sentry.”

“I have an old friend at the Dawn Court. She’s skilled at tinkering—blending magic and machinery. Tamlin got her to craft it for me at great risk.”

I was fairly certain that only centuries of training kept Lucien from leaping over the table to rip out Jurian’s throat.

“The gap in the wall is right up here,” Lucien was saying, sounding about as thrilled as me to be in such company.

Brannagh studied how closely I stood to Lucien; how he shifted slightly to shield me, too.

Lucien sat against a nearby tree, folding one booted ankle over another. “Whatever you’re planning, it’ll land us knee-deep in shit.”

“I would have been a part of the human-Fae alliance.”

“I did it for you, too, you know.” Cold, hard words. “I went with him to get you back.”

But the only trace of you was that ring, melted between the stones of the parlor. I got rid of it a moment before Tam arrived home to see it.”

“This situation is terrible,” I said, and it was the truth. A low snort.

And despite Jurian, despite the sneering royals, a corner of Lucien’s mouth tugged upward.

I gave Lucien a subtle, pleading look, and he barely hid his smirk as he sauntered over to me. Our dispersing party watched as he braced my waist in his broad hands and easily hefted me off the horse.

Ever the courtier, he bowed back.

He flat-out refused to participate. I replaced him in the Rite, but …” I went in his stead, and I did my duty to the court.

I could feel Ianthe scrambling to regain control, to find some way to spin it. Perhaps Lucien could, too. For he took my hand, and then knelt upon one knee in the grass, pressing my fingers to his brow.

I kept close to Lucien, who was inclined to indulge me.

Lucien answered on the second knock. “I heard you—what’s wrong.” He scanned me, russet eye wide as he noted my disheveled hair, my sweaty nightgown. / I swallowed, a silent question on my face, and he nodded, retreating into the room to let me inside. Bare from the waist up, he’d managed to haul on a pair of pants before opening the door, and hastily buttoned them as I strode past.

“What did you dream of tonight?” he asked quietly./ Lucien rose, stalking to me. / Lucien paused half a foot from me. He didn’t so much as object as I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face against his warm, bare chest. / Lucien loosed a heavy sigh and slid an arm around my waist, the other threading through my hair to cradle my head. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.” He held me, stroking soothing lines down my back

His red hair gleamed in the faint firelight.

His silence was heavy—sad. I hated the lie, hated it for how filthy it felt to wield it. “I’m sorry,” he said

It’s why we avoid bargains unless it’s necessary: even the scholars at the Day Court don’t know how it works. Believe me, I’ve asked.” “For me—you asked them for me.”. “Yes. I went last winter to inquire about breaking your bargain with Rhys.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I—we didn’t want to give you false hope. And we didn’t dare let Rhysand get wind of what we were doing, in case he found a way to interfere. To stop it.”

“You didn’t stop him.” “I tried. I begged him for mercy. He didn’t listen. He couldn’t listen.”

“Even if they’re now our allies,” I mumbled, “I still hate them.” A snort. “Me too.”

“Autumn Court males have fire in their blood—and they fuck like it, too.”

Then at us, their eyes widening further as they noted Lucien’s cruel beauty.

Lucien stared him down. “We accept no tribute from the human lands. Least of all children.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied, well aware that Lucien carefully watched from the shade of a nearby oak.

Lucien had gone to the stream to get more water

Lucien woke me the next morning with a hand over my mouth, warning gleaming in his russet eye. I smelled it a moment later: the coppery tang of blood. / Lucien slid from the tent, limbs loose and ready to shift into a defensive position. He’d been trained, he once told me—at the Autumn Court and at this one. Like Rhys, he usually opted for words to win his battles, but I’d seen him and Tamlin in the practice ring. He knew how to handle a weapon. How to kill, if need be.

Lucien laid his own cloak across the remains of the two young women.

“They are our allies,” he growled at me, at Lucien, both of us seated in armchairs flanking the mantel. / “And you should have left it alone for me to deal with.” Tamlin heaved a jagged breath. “Not retaliated like children.” He threw a glare in Lucien’s direction. “I expected better from you.” / “You sent the Bogge after them!” Tamlin roared. /Lucien had tracked it down—and we’d lured it, carefully, over hours, back to that camp. Right to where Dagdan and Brannagh had been gloating over their kill. / Lucien cleared his throat. Stood as well. “Tam—those humans were barely more than children. Feyre gave the royals an order to stand down. They ignored it. If we let Hybern walk all over us, we stand to lose more than their alliance. The Bogge reminded them that we aren’t without our claws, too.”

He exploded. Furniture splintered and went flying, windows cracked and shattered. / My knees slammed into the carpeted floor, and Tamlin was instantly in front of me, hands shaking— The doors burst open. “What have you done,” Lucien breathed, and Tamlin’s face was the picture of devastation as Lucien shoved him aside. He let Lucien shove him aside and help me stand. / “Let’s get you cleaned up,” Lucien said, an arm around my shoulders as he eased me from the room.

the broad panes of his chest, his stomach.

But Lucien was there. Her focus wholly on me, on taking from me the beauty I’d burned from her, Brannagh did not see him winnow until it was too late. Until Lucien’s sword refracted the light of the sun leaking through the canopy. And then met flesh and bone.

“I’m going with you,” he said again, face splattered with blood as bright as his hair. “I’m getting my mate back.”

“I know a place,” Lucien said, walking toward the cave that would take us to his home.

I let Lucien lead the way,

“It doesn’t lead anywhere. It curves away in the back—it’ll keep us out of sight.” I let him go inside first nonetheless.

Flint struck, and I found myself gazing at a makeshift camp of sorts. The candle Lucien had ignited sat on a natural stone ledge, and on the floor nearby lay three bedrolls and old blankets, crusted with leaves and cobwebs. A little fire pit lay in the sloped center of the space, the ceiling above it charred. No one had been here in months. Years. “I used to stay here while hunting. Before—I left,” he said,

“It’s too risky to eat,” I admitted, evading his question. Lucien was having none of it. “I knew. I knew you were lying the moment you unleashed that light in Hybern. My friend at the Dawn Court has the same power—her light is identical. And it does not do whatever horseshit you lied about it doing.”

His eye seemed to simmer. As if being in his own lands set that molten ore inside him rising to the surface, even with the damper on his power. “Glad to see the mask is off, at least.”

“You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned? Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply for fear of what it might do to her?”

His woods, by blood and law. He was a son of this forest, and here … He looked crafted from it. For it. Even that gold eye.

he waded into the stream, boots off and pants rolled to his knees, and caught one with his bare hands. He’d tied his hair up, a few strands of it falling into his face as he swooped down again and threw a second trout onto the sandy bank where I’d been trying to find a substitute for fishing twine. / Lucien picked them up by their tails, as if he’d done it a thousand times. He might very well have, right here in this stream. “I’ll clean them while you start the fire.” I

“As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn’t particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting … I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.” He eased to his feet with a groan, his unbound hair glimmering as the midday sun overhead set the blood and wine hues aglow. “I’d say that sounds more High-Lord-like than the life of an idle, unwanted son.” A long, steely look. “Did you think it was mere hatred that prompted my brothers to do their best to break and kill me?”

of all the sounds that Lucien so carefully sorted through while he kept watch.

he removed his cloak and added it over my blanket.

“Father,” the one now holding a knife to my throat said to Lucien, “is rather put out that you didn’t stop by to say hello.” “We’re on an errand and can’t be delayed,” Lucien answered smoothly, mastering himself.

he saw the sweat beading on my temple, my upper lip, as my blood heated. A slight bob of his chin was his only sign of understanding.

“Run,” I gasped out, but Lucien was already at my side, a steadying hand under my arm as I burned that flame hotter and hotter. It wouldn’t keep them contained for long, and I could indeed feel someone’s power rising to challenge mine. But there was another force to wield. Lucien understood the same moment I did. Sweat simmered on Lucien’s brow as a pulse of flame-licked power slammed into the stones just above us. Dust and debris rained down. I threw any trickle of magic into Lucien’s next blow. His next. / Lucien and I brought down the cave ceiling.

I’d been wearing my cloak, but … he’d indeed given me his. He shivered against the cold as we dragged and clawed our way up the mountain slope, and did not dare stop.

“Tell me about her—about Elain,” Lucien said quietly.

“And then I’ll ask your mate how he survived it—knowing you were engaged to someone else. Sharing another male’s bed.”

“You left us.” Us. Not Tamlin. Us. The words echoed into the dark,

"You fit into the Spring Court as little as I did, Lucien. You enjoyed its pleasures and diversions. But don’t pretend you weren’t made for something more than that.”

“Run,” Lucien breathed. / “Faster,” Lucien ordered. “Don’t look!” he barked as I began to turn my head to see if they’d followed. He lashed out a hand to grip my elbow, steadying me before I could even register that I’d stumbled. / “Zag,” Lucien panted. “We need to—” He shoved me aside, and I staggered, arms wheeling. Just as an arrow ricocheted off the ice where I’d been standing. “Faster,” Lucien snapped, and I didn’t hesitate.

Behind him, cut off by his brothers, Lucien had drawn his own knife and now sized up the other two.

I think Lucien shouted my name.

“Which one?” I asked carefully. Mor swept her attention over Lucien once more. I almost pitied Lucien for the weight in her gaze, the utter judgment. The stare of the Morrigan—whose gift was pure truth. Whatever she beheld in Lucien was enough for her to say, “The town house. You have someone waiting there for you.”

Lucien survey our surroundings.

But their watchful silence was indication enough: let him decide his own fate. At last, Lucien looked at me. At us. He said, “There are children laughing in the streets.” I blinked. He said it with such … quiet surprise. As if he hadn’t heard the sound in a long, long time.

“I see you brought home a new pet,” she said, nose crinkling with distaste. / Before I could introduce him, Lucien bowed at the waist. Deeply / Amren smiled slightly. “Already trained, I see.”

Lucien, to his credit, didn’t back away a step. From Rhys, or me, or the Illyrians. The Clever Fox Stares Down Winged Death. The painting flashed into my mind.

Lucien only shifted on his feet. Wary. Considering. I counted the heartbeats, debating how much I’d interfere if he said something truly stupid, when he at last murmured, “There is a longer story to be told, it seems.” Smart answer.

Lucien weighed my offer—and the three males monitoring his every blink and breath. He only nodded. Another wise decision.

“And you love him. And he—he truly does love you.” Lucien dragged a hand through his red hair. “And all these people I have spent my centuries hating, even fearing … They are your family.”

And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”

But Lucien was standing in the doorway. And from the devastation on his face, I knew he’d heard every word. Seen and heard and felt the hollowness and despair radiating from her.

“I would never hurt her.” A bleak sort of honesty in his words.

We were almost to the door, Cassian already in the hall, when Lucien said to me, “Thank you.” I didn’t dare ask him for what.

"set up the handsome one as High Lord of Autumn"

“What did you do with yourself this afternoon?” “Slept,” he said. “Washed. Sat on my ass.”

His face was indeed controlled, but—a hint of surprise twinkled there. Wariness, too, but … surprise.

Lucien, standing near the windows and watching the sun set over Velaris, was wearing a fine green jacket embroidered with gold, his cream-colored pants showing off muscled thighs, and his knee-high black boots polished enough that the chandeliers of faelight reflected off them. He’d always had a casual grace about him, but here, tonight, with his hair tied back and jacket buttoned to his neck, he truly looked the part of a High Lord’s son. Handsome, powerful, a bit rakish—but well-mannered and elegant.

Lucien considered. “Can I offer my unsolicited advice?” / Lucien studied my mate, then me. “I assume Feyre is going.” / “Are you planning to hide her powers?” / Lucien studied me again, and it was an effort not to squirm. “My father would likely join with Hybern if he thought he stood a chance of getting his power back that way—by killing you.” / Lucien jerked his chin to Azriel. “That’s the information you need to gather. What my father knows—if my brothers realized what she was doing. You need to start from there, and build your plan for this meeting accordingly.”

Rhys swirled his wine once, set it down, and said to Lucien, “You and Azriel should talk. Tomorrow.” Lucien glanced toward the shadowsinger—who only nodded at him. “I’m at your disposal.”

He added to Lucien, who did not balk from those writhing shadows, “After lunch, we’ll meet.

“You trust Lucien.” Rhys angled his head at the not-quite question. “I trust in the fact that we currently have possession of the one thing he wants above all else. And as long as that remains, he’ll try to stay on our good side. But if that changes … His talent was wasted in the Spring Court. There was a reason he had that fox mask, you know.”

“He’s not a bad person—he’s not evil.” “He certainly isn’t.”

Too thin. She must not be eating at all. How can she even stand? The thoughts flowed through his head, one after another. His heart was a raging, thunderous beat, and he didn’t dare move from his position a mere five feet away. She hadn’t yet turned toward him, but the ravages of her fasting were evident enough. Touch her, smell her, taste her— The instincts were a running river. He fisted his hands at his sides.

Azriel seemed like a decent enough male

He tried to sound casual—comfortable. Even as his heart raced and raced, so swift he thought he might vomit on the very expensive, very old carpet. From Sangravah, if the patterns and rich dyes were any indication. Rhysand was many things, but he certainly had good taste. This entire place had been decorated with thought and elegance, with a penchant for comfort over stuffiness.

An ache like a blow to the chest went through him, but he crossed the rug. Forced his hands to be steady while he poured himself a cup of tea and sat in the chair opposite Nesta’s vacated one. “There’s a plate of biscuits. Would you like one?”

he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen.

Her eyes were the brown of a fawn’s coat.

“I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.” And a whole lot of nothing. He’d told the shadowsinger all he knew—of his surviving brothers, of his father. His mother … he’d kept some details, irrelevant and utterly personal, to himself. Everything else—his father’s closest allies, the most conniving courtiers and lords … He’d handed it over. Granted, it was dated by a few centuries, but in his time as emissary, from the information he’d gathered, not much had changed. They’d all acted the same Under the Mountain, anyway. And after what had happened with his brothers a few days ago … There was no tinge of guilt when he told Azriel what he knew. None of what he felt when he looked toward the south—toward both of the courts he’d called home.

He fought against the bristling rage, the irrational urge to find the male who’d claimed her and shred him apart. The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.”

He paused right between them and said to me, to Nesta, “She needs fresh air.” / “We’ll judge what she needs.” I could have sworn his ruby hair gleamed like molten metal as his temper rose. But it faded, his russet eye fixing on me. “Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two.” Then he walked away.

“Mother above,” Lucien said, dragging a hand through his hair.

Lucien had offered to make himself useful while we were gone by reading through some of the texts now piled on the tables throughout the sitting room.

But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.”

It wasn’t just about what he thought—it was the … feeling. I sensed no ill will, no conniving. Only concern for her. And … sorrow. Longing

Cassian had come off the roof at some point to join Lucien in the sitting room, the books from the wall spread on the low-lying table between them

It felt like days ago. I rested my head against the embroidered back of the chair and watched Lucien take a seat on the rolled arm of the nearest couch. “Long day?” I grunted my response.

He weighed my tone, and crossed his arms. “Let me do something. About Elain. I heard—from my room. Everything that happened just now. It wouldn’t hurt to have a healer look her over. Externally and internally.” I was tired enough that I could barely summon the breath to ask, “Do you think the Cauldron made her insane?” “I think she went through something terrible,” Lucien countered carefully. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have your best healer do a thorough examination.”

“Please tell me,” Lucien said when I crossed the threshold into the foyer. “What the healer says. And if—if you need me for anything.”

Madja didn’t deign to answer Nesta until we were at the bottom of the steps. Lucien was already waiting in the sitting room, Mor still lingering in the dining room. Both of them rose to their feet.

Lucien muttered something about not needing to be monitored, and we all looked at him with raised brows. He just lifted his hands, claimed he wanted to freshen up, and headed down the hall.

The sound seemed to startle Elain, who swiftly set down her teacup. She rose to her feet, and Lucien shot to his. “I’m sorry,” he blurted. “What—what was that?” “It—it was a tug. On the bond.” / Then Nesta was standing in the threshold. “What did you do.” The words were as sharp as a blade. Lucien looked to her, then over to me. A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Nothing,” he said, and again faced his mate. “I’m sorry—if that unsettled you.” Elain sidled toward Nesta, who seemed to be at a near-simmer. “It felt … strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.” Lucien exposed his palms to her. “I’m sorry.”

“And I got to Elain’s end of it when she ran off.” “Did you sense anything?” “No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …” A blush stained his cheek.

Lucien’s attention slid behind me, to the various letters on different styles and makes of paper. That golden eye narrowed. As Tamlin’s emissary, he no doubt recognized them. “Let me guess: they said yes, but picking the location is now going to be the headache.” Mor frowned. “Any suggestions?” Lucien tied back his hair with a strap of brown leather. “Do you have a map?”

Lucien had indeed given us an initial location, and several more when those were struck down. But that was to be expected, Lucien had said, as if he’d arranged such things countless times. Rhys had only nodded in agreement—and approval.

Especially since Lucien had left before breakfast for a library across the city to look up anything in regard to fixing the wall, a task I’d been more than willing to hand over. I might have felt guilty for never giving him a proper tour of Velaris, but … he seemed eager. More than eager—he seemed to be itching to head into the city on his own.

Lucien, stationed by the front window, turned from watching the street. Monitoring it. A sword and dagger hung from his belt. No humor, no warmth graced his face—only fierce, grim determination.

“I’ll go.” Lucien was staring at Elain as he spoke. We all looked at him. Lucien shifted his focus to Rhys, to me. “I’ll go,” he repeated, rising to his feet. “To find this sixth queen.” / “What makes you think you could find her?” Rhys asked. Not rudely, but—from a commander’s perspective. Sizing up the skills Lucien offered against the risks, the potential benefits. “This eye …” Lucien gestured to the metal contraption. “It can see things that others … can’t. Spells, glamours … Perhaps it can help me find her. And break her curse.” He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here. I’ll fight if you need me to, but …” He offered me a grim smile. “I do not belong in the Autumn Court. And I’m willing to bet I’m no longer welcome at h—the Spring Court.” Home, he had almost said. “But I cannot sit here and do nothing. Those queens with their armies—there is a threat in that regard, too. So use me. Send me. I will find Vassa, see if she can … bring help.” / “You will be going into the human territory,” Rhys warned. “I can’t spare a force to guard you—” “I don’t need one. I travel faster on my own.” His chin lifted. “I will find her. And if there’s an army to bring back, or at least some way for her own story to sway the human forces … I’ll find a way to do that, too.” My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, “It will be—very dangerous.” A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.”

Lucien had indeed been studying all those maps lately. Perhaps at the quiet behest of whatever force had guided us all. My mate added, “Thank you.” Lucien shrugged. And it was that gesture alone that made me say at last, “Are you sure?” He only glanced at Elain, whose face was again a calm void while she traced a finger over the embroidery on the couch cushions. “Yes. Let me help in whatever way I can.”

I asked Lucien, “When do you want to leave?” “Tomorrow.” I hadn’t heard him sound so assertive in … a long time. “I’ll prepare for the rest of today, and leave after breakfast tomorrow morning.” He added to Rhys, “If that works for you.”

Cassian had given him free rein yesterday afternoon to loot his personal cache of weapons, though my friend had been economical about which ones he’d selected. The blade, plus a short sword, plus an assortment of daggers. A quiver of arrows and an unstrung bow were tied to his pack.

“You know precisely where you want Rhys to take you?” I asked at last. Lucien nodded, glancing to where my mate now waited by the front door. He’d bring Lucien to the edge of the human continent—to wherever Lucien had decided would be the best landing spot. No farther, Azriel had insisted. His reports indicated it was too watched, too dangerous. Even for one of our own. Even for the most powerful High Lord in history.

“It was time,” Lucien said quietly, giving me a squeeze. “For me to do something.”

Rhys extended a hand to Lucien. Lucien studied it—then my mate’s face. I could nearly see all the hateful words they’d spoken. Dangling between them, between that outstretched hand and Lucien’s own. But Lucien took Rhys’s hand. That silent offer of not only transportation.

Their gazes locked and held. / Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye—the longing and sadness.

“I—heard the rumors and assumed Lucien Vanserra would be residing there after … what happened.” She still didn’t look at Tamlin, who remained silent and brooding. “I managed to contact him a few days ago—asked him to send samples. He did—and did not tell you,” she added quickly to Rhysand, “because he did not want to raise your hopes. Not until I’d found a solution.” No wonder he’d been so eager to head alone into Velaris that day he’d gone to help us research. I shot a look at Rhys. Seems like Lucien can still play the fox. Rhys didn’t look at me, though his lips twitched as he replied, Indeed.

The Lady of Autumn’s favorite son—not only from Lucien’s goodness. But because he was the child she’d dreamed of having … with the male she undoubtedly loved.

His power is flame, though. They’ve mused Beron’s title could go to him. His mother’s family is strong—that was why Beron wanted a bride from their line. The gift could be hers.

Other than the fact that Lucien might be Helion’s sole heir.

“Lucien,” I breathed. “Who?” Drakon’s brows narrowed. “Oh, the male with the eye. No. He met up with them later on—told them where to go. To come now, actually. So pushy, you Prythian males.

Lucien, haggard and bloody, panting for breath. As if he’d run from the shore. His gaze settled on Elain, and he sagged a little.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, coming toward us. Spying the blood speckling Elain’s hands.

“Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but … yes, I’m in one piece.” A faint smile bloomed on Elain’s lips. But Lucien noticed that scorched patch of grass behind us and said, “I heard—what happened. I’m sorry for your loss. All of you.”

“I’ve got one hell of a story to tell you,” he said, squeezing me tightly. “And don’t be surprised if Vassa corners you as soon as the ships are sorted. And the sun sets.” “Is she really—” “Yes. But your father, ever the negotiator …” / “The human queens are still out there,” I said. Maybe I’d hunt them down. “Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.” “You sound like an acolyte.” Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” He cut me a wry look. “You’ll get along just fine.” I nudged him in the ribs. But Lucien again looked at that singed grass, and his blood-splattered face turned solemn. “He was a good man,” he said. “He loved you all very much.”

Elain fell into step beside me, peering at Lucien. He noticed it. “I heard you made the killing blow,” he said.

I said to him, “So where now? Off with Vassa?” I wondered if he’d heard of Tamlin’s role—the help he’d given us. A look at my friend showed me he had. Someone, perhaps my mate, had informed him. Lucien shrugged. “First—here. To help. Then …” Another glance at Elain. “Who knows?” I nudged Elain, who blinked at me, then blurted, “You could come to Velaris.” He saw all of it, but nodded graciously. “It would be my pleasure.”

Tamlin just shook his head, loathing simmering in his green eyes, and walked past. Not a word. I looked at Lucien in time to see the guilt, the devastation, flicker in that russet eye.

But Lucien remained standing with us as Tamlin found his place in the sitting room to our right. Did not glance at his friend even once. Lucien wasn’t foolish enough to beg for forgiveness.

I didn’t dare look through the ruined doorway to where Lucien now stood in the sitting room, close to Elain’s side

Lucien had remained behind to help with any of the human wounded still needing Fae healing

Another tidbit that Lucien had told us.

Send Lucien then. As our human emissary.

"Where's our dear friend Lucien?" "Off hunting for dinner."

"You brought presents". "It's Solstice tradition here, but isn't it?"

An uncontrollable instinct - for a male to eliminate any threat. But he remained sitting. Even as his fingers dug into the arms of his chair

Somehow in living with Jurian and Vassa in the manor, he'd run into Elain's former betrothed. And managed to leave the human lord breathing.

The corded muscle of his forearm shifted beneath the fine silk of his sapphire jacket.

"He is a good male", I repeated.

He raised his fist to the door, but the wooden slab pulled away before he could touch it. Lucien’s scarred, handsome face appeared, his golden eye whirring. “I thought I sensed someone else arriving.”

The male had grown up alongside Eris. Had dealt with Eris’s and Beron’s cruelty. Had his lover slaughtered by his own father. But Lucien had learned to keep his cool.

He had to give Lucien credit: the male was somehow able to move between his three roles—an emissary for the Night Court, ally to Jurian and Vassa, and liaison to Tamlin—and still dress immaculately.

“Easy,” Lucien said. Cassian snarled. “Easy,” Lucien repeated, and flame sizzled in his russet eye. The flame, the surprising dominance within it, hit Cassian like a stone to the head, knocking him from his need to kill and kill and kill whatever might threaten—

“No. But we need to summon Lucien,” Azriel said, just a shade tightly, as if he didn’t like it one bit. “We need to tell him the news, and permanently station him at the Spring Court to contain any damage and to be our eyes and ears.”

Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing.

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blueskittlesart · 8 months

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do you have any thoughts on zelda not staying as a dragon? me personally I like it and am very cool with it mostly because I think zelda should get to be happy forever (and because I'm smart enough to know she changed back because of recall and not some ambiguous power of love lmao) but a lot of people seem to dislike that it made the draconification inconsequential?

i think there's like. some valid concerns surrounding inconsequentiality/"curing" the physical problems characters have as a way of giving them a "happy ending" but I think those concerns don't necessarily apply to totk in the way people seem to be applying them, especially irt zelda's draconification and link's arm.

most of the time when the criticism of this "magic cure" trope is applied to media, it's because the trope is used as a cure-all to erase a character's suffering or trauma and make them "normal" again, and often ignores the character development or themes of the story in favor of giving the character a happy ending. I don't think that applies to totk, though, because the "curing" link and zelda experience is both within the realm of possibility given the worldbuilding present in the game (recall could easily have done it, as you mentioned) AND thematically consistent with the rest of the game. One of if not the most important central themes of totk is the idea of failure and second chances. we see a hyrule that has been given a second chance after link's initial failure with the calamity brought it to the brink of destruction. we see characters who were deeply unhappy and entrenched in the shame of their precalamity mistakes like purah and zelda become active, beloved members of their communities. we see the people of lurelin village take back and rebuild their destroyed home. we watch this kingdom and its people make an unprecedented comeback after a century of struggle and ruin.

Similarly, totk's gameplay is LINK's second chance, his comeback from the initial mistake of losing zelda, of specifically being unable to reach her with his injured hand when they fell. The consequences of that--the master sword's corruption, the loss of his arm, and zelda's draconification, are all supposed to SEEM irreversible, because that's how LINK initially sees them. he believes that he doomed both himself and zelda all because of that SINGLE moment in which he wasn't enough, a viewpoint which is obviously left over from the pressure he experienced to perform to an impossible standard of perfection pre-calamity. The story of totk is about deconstructing that belief and proving it wrong. the mistake he made caused harm, but it's never too late to repair things. he can fix the regional phenomena ganondorf causes and rebuild those communities. he can revitalize the master sword. he can GET ZELDA BACK, with his own arm, uninjured and able to reach her this time. no matter how impossible those things may initially seem, no matter the perceived finality of his mistakes and their consequences, there is always hope. there is always a second chance. no one person's single mistake can doom an entire kingdom for eternity. the fate of hyrule was NEVER resting on link's shoulders alone. he was never their final hope. there was always going to be an after. the whole POINT of the draconification and the loss of link's arm is that they AREN'T final. they ARE inconsequential, because they were born of one mistake and ONE MISTAKE IS NOT THE END ALL.

#like. think about the message the game sends if zelda stays a dragon. we are saying that link CAN'T come back from this mistake.#that one single split-second moment in which he made the wrong move because he had no way of knowing what to do #means that the one person who understands and supports him above all else. the one person who shares his experience and his trauma #the woman he LOVES. is gone forever with no hope of return ever and it's 100% his fault.#that's not true to the themes of botw OR totk. these games are about growth and healing and second chances.#this game was link learning that he gets a second chance. that no move he makes is the final be-all-end-all fuckup.#it removes the pressure and that's the POINT. for a character like link whose life has been DEFINED by pressure #who was taught from a horrifically young age that any wrong move on his part would KILL EVERYONE HE KNEW AND LOVED #this is such an important lesson to learn. removing that pressure/showing him that it was never actually real in the first place #is a crucial step towards healing for him.#asks #zelda analysis #totk spoilers #like i like the idea of lasting consequences dont get me wrong. <draconic features zelda enjoyer #but like. making link keep the fucking rauru arm rubs me the wrong way. the whole point is that he caught her with his own hand in the end #ugh. anyway. you get the idea

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petrichormeraki · 8 months

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I love how spiteful Danny is. Also contrary to most I think it makes a lot of sense that he uses his powers for spiteful reasons (even when the consequences/implications are super fucked up *ahem POSSESSION*) because like,,,,that makes a lot of sense for a 14 year old boy who gets bullied. Of course he's gonna use his cool powers to get back at people or make his life more convenient. He's 14. I know when I was 14 I was definitely not thinking of the consequences of my decisions on a grand scale, that shit comes with wisdom and time lmao

#he also learns from his mistakes in this sense #like that episode with poindexter #idk this may be a lukewarm take in the fandom actually but i saw some people shitting on him for stuff he does with his powers and like.#y'all. he's 14. and this show was written in the early 2000s #anyway ncsnzvgks #danny phantom

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willowser · 9 months

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the idea of ua teacher bakugou honestly makes me so sad, because you have to consider the possibility of him not making it to the end as a hero which !! is heart-breaking !!

but at the same time — there is something really cathartic i think about him growing up and growing out of measuring his worth by being number one, by being the best. and i like to think of him as a grumpy professor !! a bit like aizawa !! or him keeping a close eye on the shy, quiet students, watching out for them and always there to bully them (affectionate) along their path . or for him to be an all might to someone, a young kid that looked up to dynamight in his hay-day, now getting to follow directly under his lead.

#so sweet 🥺#i think he'd be a good teacher #he's learned so much already from his relationship with deku #going from a lil bully to realizing his mistakes #to knowing you have to work as a team with your other heroes and that you cant do it all on your own #that being number one isnt everything #that you'll never grow if you think you're too good to learn from anyone else #i think his relationship with aizawa and jeanist would really help him in that aspect #and whenever he does something cool with his quirk all his students get all crazy excited and it makes him all 😏😏😏😏😎#still makes him feel good lol #also bakugou in his unbuttoned white shirt with a loose tie and some glasses sitting in the teacher's lounge #coming up on him by surprise PHEW #HELLO SIR #okay bye #maybe will write something for him one day #blast from the past: hiatus q #edit to say: i wrote this in january and just found it in my drafts 🥺🥺🥺🥺#✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: bakugou

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spectral-snippets-and-drabbles · 4 months

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Beware the Blob Mafia

Where Danny is younger (12-ish) wants to be an entomologist (Insect Scientist) instead of an astronaut and develops a different core as a result...an Insect core!

Also, I kind of headcanon that Blobs are animal ghosts and Zone-born ghosts while Shades are intelligent Sapient ghosts who crossed over the the Infinite Realms.

~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~

• It all started when a blob got caught in the middle of a fight with one of his rouges. The little blob remembered Danny when he released it and a small bundles of them from his parents' traps. Intially, they saw the boy as an unusually powerful newborn predator, so they tended to stay away to avoid being eaten by him up until they realize he was purposely freeing several dozens of them from the bad human scientists with no sinister intent.

- They decide to form a symbiotic relationship with Danny by becoming a loyal swarm in the hopes of staying close to him as protection, as they are lowest on the food chain. The young Halfa has no idea they imprinted on him, he thinks they're just being extra friendly.

Blobidious (as Danny named him) and his group bring refined ambient ectoplasm and human food to their protector to keep both sides of the Halfa nourished. They unintentionally stole from random restaurants, stores, and homes for a little while until Danny catches wind of food going missing from people's houses and has to teach them to not do that. Though, the occasional Nasty Burger wouldn't hurt anyone...a small fee in the shape of a combo meal for keeping Amity Park safe, if you will.

- Thankfully, Sam and Tucker help by having food stuff stashed away in their rooms at their houses for the little battalion to grab for him when he's hungry, as his own home is to dangerous.

• As time passes, Danny's new ghost core slowly evolves to become a living hive/den for blob ghosts to live in where they rest after a day of successfully working on collecting nourishment for their protecter. With the area around his core becoming a small pocket dimension that serves as the main nesting area for them, adorned with a honeycomb pattern over its surface.

- Danny's human body has also evolved to hide the ecto signature of the swarm and himself as a defense mechanism, making the Fenton household defenses unable to detect their ecto signatures, much to his surprise and relief. When he transforms for the first time after his body successfully completes its metamorphosis, he appeared more insect-like in the beginning.

(Think like Devorah from MK series.)

Due to the nature of having a bestial core, he can transform into a large variety of Insect/Human forms and utilize their abilities via his Obsession with bugs. Danny's already insane strength and skill set being amplified by using the powers of the most unique insects on the planet.

• Danny's naturally produced ectoplasm from his body combined with the refined ambient ectoplasm collected by the swarm creates a ghost jelly. As he uses it to revitalize himself for the first time, the effects are almost instant, with wounds healing themselves rapidly and finding himself full of energy that lasts for days with no need for sleeping or eating. Due to the energy crash, he uses it sparingly, which causes an overflow resulting in a leaky core and him puke up the excess amounts.

Not wanting to have it happen again, he lets his swarm have the excess as reward for everything they've been doing for him, completely unaware of the hell he was gonna unleash on everyone with this offering to his little buddies.

~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~ ~•~

• They proceed to evolve rapidly and become much more powerful as a result of eating the jelly. They begin to specialize and diversify their roles to better aid their boss to help him succeed and survive in Amity's ghost-ridden madness. Their symbiosis has resulted in Danny learning a form telepathy only he and the Swarm can communicate with.

From the simple blob ghost, Collectors, Warriors, Hunters, Scouts, and Workers arise to fill new roles. What's more astounding thing is the fact that they aren't just stronger, but have a higher intellect and can think and behave with reason, picking up on Danny's thought process and following his lead.

- Collectors are tasked to seek out ambient ectoplasm and food for the Danny. They also evolved in a way to leech it from hostile ghosts and follow hunters/soldiers to aid in subjugation. They can even drain humans attackers of their stamina and emotions, stripping them of their will to fight and leaving them unable to act.

- Soldiers are responsible for accompanying Danny to fights and following his orders on the field. They are also tasked with protecting the civilians from other ghosts looking to cause harm and evacuate the nearby area. The townsfolk were intially terrified, seeing monstrous ghost bugs, but calmed down knowing that they were Phantom's " pets", ready to defend them all.

- Hunters specialized in stealth, ambush and hit-and-run tactics, purposely venturing out into Amity Park and seek out his rouges in packs and dragging them back after paralyzing the offenders to be souped with a few Collectors in tow to squeeze 'em dry.

- Scouts are the crew that watched over Danny when he sleeps or when he's unable to transform into Phantom at the time, patrolling Amity Park for ghostly activity. If they saw/sensed a nearby ghost, they would emite a pheromone to alert the horde.

- Workers kept their intial blob form and stay inside Danny to be on standby to strengthen his body via nurturing it and repair it from the inside, taking the non-combat role; focusing on healing his wounds and making his body much more durable and healthy by merely being the caretakers of their boss. Thanks to their continued efforts, it increases the space for small pocket dimension to carry things he would need and increase the capacity for the swarm's hive.

His body is at its peak and the definition of perfect health. Perfect sight, hearing, strength with a quick healing factor for a boy young as he!

• Danny was intially surprised when the Swarm first came out of their volition to fight and was worried for them. But after seeing them pull a Cujo and transforming into Insect monsters of various sizes to beat down the unsuspecting victim rouge (Box Ghost), he's relieved that they're safe and he's excited that he's no longer alone in the literal fights against ghosts and that his friends don't have to jeopardize themselves without proper backup.

• Meanwhile, Danny's rouges are having an awful time in the wake of his growing bond to his Swarm. They can't enter the living world without a literal army of blob ghosts waiting for them to pop out the portal.

- Skulker tried to hunt them down only resulting in him getting his suit torn to shreds by the Welp (Phantom/Danny) when one of his blobs got hurt by the hunter's stray shot.

- Ember tried to pull a Pied Piper and force them under her control, but it only resulted in her guitar getting badly damaged and her ectoplasm sucked out of her by the Collectors.

- Spectra and Bertrand developed a severe phobia of insects after they brought her scheme crashing down and nearly killed them both after she tried to manipulate Danny like in canon, reveling in his despair until it brought the full fury of the swarm to make the attempt to destroy her when she made him upset. The swarm would've succeeded if Danny didn't call them off and she hasn't returned from the Zone since.

- Technus kept having his machines melted by corrosive acid being spat at him and ripped apart with the insane bite force of the insects assaulting him.

- The only one who managed to get passed them was Cujo. The pup's obsession wasn't destructive in nature and took a liking to Phantom and his hundreds of friends, even going as far as to acknowledge Phantom and even listen to him, making him get a pass while the others were stuck in the Zone, totally not jealous.

• The ghost pup was able to be stopped by Danny and the Swarm before he could destroy Axion Labs, making Val see the infamous "Spectral Skitter" in a more positive light.

She was a little mad, but seeing Phantom laughing as he gave the ghost puppy his favorite toy gave her a somber reminder that they both, the puppy and the ghost boy, had died way too soon. Val would still become Red Huntress, but less out of revenge, but to find out more about Phantom, becoming the 4th person to know Danny's secret.

• Vlad is rather good in this au! The sting of Jack and Maddie's abandonment made him a recluse and he refused to try and find happiness out of fear of being abandoned again. Causing his once green ectoplasm to become a shade of violet, as it was his pent up love made manifest.

- But Vlad wouldn't let that stop him, nor would it hold him back in life! He came into his own in Wisconsin after starting a successful chain of brands revolving around dairy goods, using a small portion of the earned funding to research ghosts in his free time using actual methods of study and not the havoc he's heard regarding a certain set of ectobiologists. He honestly can't help but be worried about young Daniel and Jasmine. He can only imagine that whirlwind of a life the children must have, having his former friends as parents.

- After making enough progress, his therapist suggests Vlad getting back out there and try giving the socializing scene another shot, as the Halfa himself mentioned that he missed companionship during their last meeting. Being socially inept, he decides to transform and look around for potential associates while invisible. So lost in thought that he ended up in Illinois on accident when his ghost sense went off like a bomb.

- He jaw fell open when he couldn't believe what he was seeing. He saw giant ghost insectoids that were taking down several Ecto beasts being led by Skulker, who seemed to have tamed (intimidated) them to his side. Another group was taking the people far away from the fighting and standing guard over them. Despite his curiosity being peaked, Vlad couldn't help but groan loudly and facepalm. The tin can tried skinning the older halfa in the past, only for it to end with the said Halfa threatening to destroy the little nuisance's core if he kept it up. He hadn't had a problem since, but seeing the "Greatest Hunter" again made his eye twitch something fierce.

"When I get that welp's pelt I'll–"

"Prove to everyone that you're the greatest hunter ever and yada yada yada...Soup Time!"

Along with his defeated beasts, Skulker is absorbed into the Fenton Thermos and Phantom powers down back into his human form after hiding in a nearby alley...not even realizing that Vlad just saw him do that.

• Vlad immediately knows that this is Daniel Fenton, due to looking up the Fentonworks Website in the 'About Us' page and seeing the major similarities between the "two" boys". He also knows that Phantom is labeled as the "Ghost Menace"...who was constantly being hunted by Jack and Madeline, getting shot at like it's open season, causing needless destruction in their wake...like how they tried to hunt him a few years prior...

- Knowing Jack and Madeline, This makes poor Vlad's mood go from bad to infinitely worse because that meant that they had no idea that they've killed their own child (like him, oof) and have been hunting him since his first appearance in Amity. He immediately retreats back to his castle and has a severe panic attack.

• After calming down, Vlad will probably try to murder his old friends like in canon by inviting the family to his place, but it comes from a messed up sense of needing to protect Danny from his disastrous parents, seeing the younger as a victim of his parents recklessness. It takes a lot of convincing, but Danny is able to get him to stand down and explain that his parents aren't as dangerous as he says they are. Except Vlad had made very good counterarguments that made the younger Halfa question the doubts he had about his parents.

- It doesn't help that the original members of his swarm don't answer when he asks for a biased opinion in his favor. Surely his folks would still love him once he tells them what happened down in the lab...right? Danny makes the protocol "Friend or Foe" with Sam and Tucker and creates a guideline depending on which way the wind blows that fated day.

- Vlad gave him his number, a key, and a room for him to stay at the castle should he be inclined to take the offer should the worse come to pass. Telling the young badger that he had a place to retreat to in case things goes sideways and someone willing to train him as well.

• Jack and Maddie are up to their usual activities, but they meet more resistance by both the ghosts and people of Amity Park.

- The blob ghosts they usually catch to turn their ectoplasm to power their weapons or experiment on have made an alliance with Ghost Boy, Phantom, who made them far more powerful and elusive than they previously were. It doesn't help that their failed attempts to grab one usually end up with some form of property/vehicle damage while Phantom and his monsters scatter and vanish as soon as they arrive.

- People are genuinely looking to the literal ghost child (Phantom) for protection and has been keeping the streets of Amity Park safe from ghosts more than the proclaimed "Ghost Experts". He even began rehabilitating most of his old enemies at this point and helped them find non harmful methods for them to fulfill their obsessions at this point of the timeline. They couldn't defeat him or his army, so they yielded and gave his methods a chance with good degrees of success.

When a curious person (Jazz, the daughter of the town ghost experts) "asked" about a ghost's obsessions and why they fight, Danny goes into extreme detail (thank you, Clockwork and Pandora!) about why it is a ghost would do the things they do, debunking many ectobiologists theories and scientific discoveries made by the field of study.

• It felt like a slap in face and all their hard work was being undermined.

- This causes a screaming match between Maddie and Phantom. Both who are refusing to back down and causing a crowd to form.

"You're kind are danger to humans!"

"Have you seen how you nutjobs drive!? There's a reason nobody parks their cars on your street! You're a living road hazard!"

"You ghosts have been terrorizing the town!"

"Excuse me!? We've been PROTECTING it from your mistakes! Maybe if you actually studied ghosts instead of labeling us non sentient and cutting us up and making them live ammunition, you'd get better results!"

• It just keeps going until something in Danny starts snapping. He's already past sobbing and red in the face with panic and anger, the swarm is practically going feral as they sense the distress rolling off of him in waves, waiting for these humans to dare to make a move. Snarling, hissing and growling could be heard from hundreds of creatures slowly manifesting in the sky, floating with eyes glowing blood red.

People begin to start to worry out as they never seen Phantom's pets like this before...but then again...holding guns up to a kid who died recently and protects them from both the ghosts and the Fenton's daily madness isn't exactly a good image.

"You may have fooled everyone else, but you haven't fooled us, Phantom Menace! If we let our guard down, your kind will exploit us and we'll all be paying for it!"

And just like that...the final thread self control snaps and Phantom explodes. His scream of anger is amplified by his swarm and takes out most of the devices powered by ectoplasm.

Pay for it...PAY FOR IT!? WHAT DO YOU NOW ABOUT "PAYING FOR IT" WHEN ALL THIS WAS ALL YOUR FAULT!? ALL BECAUSE YOU MADE A LITERAL PORTAL TO HELL! YOU'RE SO OBSESSED WITH GHOSTS YOU HAVEN'T EVEN NOTICED WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME..."

The silence that came after was deafening and as the "good doctors" try to object, they themselves are stunned into silence as well when a ring forms around Phantom's waist and reveals who he actually is. Gasps and shouts of surprise are heard as a teary eyed boy stares down at his parents from a roof, glaring icy daggers with tired eyes.

"You were always in the lab, for days on end, as Jazz and I grew up. She put up with it and accepted the fact that work took priority, but I didn't! I hated that stupid portal and I went into the damn thing trying to make it work so you could pay attention to us again...but it turned on with me inside because a "genius" put the power button inside...which I hit on accident...making me die alone!

My grades dropped off a cliff because I had to step up and take responsibility for YOUR obsession with ghosts! I lost so much sleep because there were threats almost every other day trying to cause problems for Amity Park! Jazz was almost murdered and I almost had to kill the ghost to stop her from harming my sister! I had to literally beat my rogue's gallery into submission so they could behave and to protect them from ghost hunters so I could get to live a semi-normal life again! My so-called evil "parasites" have been helping me out keeping everyone who saw me as some weird freak safe since we teamed up and I won't let you slander them or myself anymore!"

It made the people of Amity feel sick to know the truth. The small kid who likes bugs who was supposed to barely start high school was the same friendly ghost who constantly charged into battle to keep everyone safe. His friends and enemies alike were under his protection out of the kindness of his heart when he could've easily used his powers for mischief, or worse, evil. As the realization began to sink in, people began to whisper and mutter to each other.

"An actual kid was defending us the whole time!?"

"Bug-a-Boo was really just a kid..."

"Danny Fenton is the Spectral Skitter!?"

"THEY KILLED THERE OWN KID!?"

That's what made people turn on the Fentons with the looks of disdain and anger. People were forming a protective ring around Danny as they continued to bombard his family with accusations and throwing insults. "Hey, Jazz is innocent in all of this, so leave her out of the hate mob! My sister barely found out and has been taking care of me better than our own parents well before I died...was there for me when things were at their worst fighting back the ghost..."

As the two Fenton siblings looked at each with soft, reassuring smiles, the tender moment was ruined when a blast went off, screams were heard and Danny stumbled back in shock at the sudden pain and blood blooming in his chest. It didn't punch through him fully, but cracked his ribs and now he was on the ground in pain. The shooters fate was sealed when a soldier's stinger punched through the attacker's leg with an ecto blast before the swarm and began fighting men in white suits, the attackers being overrun quickly and being mangled savagely before stopping at Danny's order before fainting.

In their desperate attempt to get Danny to safety, the swarm grabbed his unconscious body and hurriedly went through the Ghost Portal before blowing it up, preventing the Guys in White from doing more damage. There, they were greeted by Danny's greatest ally, Clockwork, and Yeti named Frostbite who wished to help their Boss. With reluctance and cries of sadness, they gave him to the beastman and hoped for the best.

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #insect core au #Danny unintentionally became an apex predator/ghostly mob boss by being nice to blob ghosts #The GIW once again ruining people's lives #GIW wanted to hunt Phantom down but got Pariah Dark's fury instead #Danny stayed inside the Ghost Zone up until Pariah Dark was released.#They found the key to his sarcophagus as they rebuilt the portal from a cultist #Danny becomes the High King but kills Pariah Dark because he's too dangerous and absorbs his power.#Jack and Maddie are more open ended so they either learn from their mistake or not kts up to the reader

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theredcuyo · 19 days

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If i had a nickle for every time Bad has sacrificed himself with eldrich horror type of consecuences to get his family back and it didn't even work i'd have two nickles which isn't a lot but it's weird it's happened twice

#bbh #badboyhalo #qsmp #skephalo #dsmp #skeppy #the egg #then the souls #so #bad doesn't learn from his mistakes it seems #that or is bc its still fuzzy wether or not he remembers #anyway this is bads trope it seems #and both also include losing his characteristic red color

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lightbulb-warning · 9 months

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Same person that said your art style scratches the inside of my head (I used the wrong your in the original ask smh)

I wanted to also say how much I love how you draw Shuichi <3 It's perfect, people have already complimented how you draw Kokichi (perfect, as well) so I thought how you draw Shuichi deserves some love as well

ive been looking through my drawing folders and have come to the conclusion that your definition of "perfect shuichi" equals to "stressed out of his mind", which i find hilarious /lh

i fucking love shuichi i find him to be such a compelling character. *puts this in your pocket when you're not looking*