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bluerosefox · 4 months

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Our Well Deserved Break

Its

Shenanigans (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Time again!~

-x-x-

Danny, our boy the Ghost King, looking over a small team going over relic's given or 'offered' to Pariah Dark over the years both before and after he was sealed away. As they're taking inventory of the chaotic offering room, they stumble across a certain artifact.

This artifact is able to summon a set number of people (it does have its limits) of the users wishes to them and it sets up a barrier around the surrounding place so no one summoned gets out. You know, those kinds of artifact's certain people use to summon heroes and or villains into a room and have them fight to see whose the strongest or for a tournament, Yeah that kind of artifact!

Danny, who found the item, takes a look at after being told what it does. Then out of the corner of his eye he spots himself in a mirror in the room and see's his crown floating above his head and feels the full weight of his responsibility since before and after his crowning. Yes he had help with his advisor, despite how cryptid he can be at times, and of his council but still the weight was a bit too much for a teenager like him.

An idea struck his mind when he hears the ticking of a clock behind him. Without saying a word Danny looks back and raises an eyebrow at Clockwork whose staring at him in silence as well. He glances at the item, tilts his head a bit before...

Smiles in only the way CW knows would both be good for Danny and amusing for him. He nods and says "One weekend should be fine. All timelines will be paused for them. I suggest telling your friends to help prepare for your guests. Enjoy and have fun my King."

"YES!" Danny's voice echoing in the offering room made many ghosts in the room jump for a bit.

This was totally going to be fun!

-x-x-

When the following weekend arrived, young and very stressed teen heroes from across the multiverse are suddenly pulled from their worlds and are summoned into the Infinite Realms. Before any of them can panic or start fights a voice rang out above them and when they looked they could see a young teen, with a crown floating above his head, white hair, and glowing green eyes sitting on a throne.

He smiled and said

"Welcome fellow stressed out Heroes and Heroines to Phantom's Keep! I'm King Phantom, recently crowned fifteen year old, and this is the Infinite Realms! The birth and ending of the multiverse afterlife! Now don't worry none of you are dead or anything like that. I summoned you all here for one reason and one reason only..."

Here Danny paused, just to troll a tiny bit, and could see some of the more tense heroes readying up for a fight or at least argue to let them go. He grinned though and then said.

"And thats.... TO HAVE FUN!"

After that he floated out of his throne and with a flourish in the air he waved his hands and his throne room changed with party decor all around. Tables off to the side appeared with food and drinks from well everywhere and anywhere the multiverse, balloons rose from the ground and floated upwards, streamers flew across above to attach themselves to the other sides, the castle lights shifted to a dim and music began playing from somewhere.

Danny grinned brightly down at them and their shocked faces. oh that's funny, thank goodness Tucker is recording this and Jazz is gonna scrapbook this party for him (she plans on making them for all the guests as a party gift later, you know to remember how fun the party was)

"Now all of you are stressed out teen heroes with a lot of responsibilities on their shoulders! Believe me, I know that feeling, been there done that still doing it even now! But! My advisor says this will be both fun for me and good for you guys to spend one whole weekend here to de-stress and have fun! I do have some ground rules though. One your timelines are in fact PAUSED, you don't have to worry about calling your parents or if you got mentors to let them know where you are at. Two you are all heroes here, many of you are from different worlds and if you are from the same world they already know or CAN be trusted with your real identities but you are NOT required to remove any masks or de-transform or anything like that, if you wish there are masks on that green table over there you can stick on if you want to keep your identities hidden and are spelled to stay on and fuzz the minds of anyone trying to remember your looks once its on, even if they catch a good look at you right now it'll fuzz their memories of you once the mask is on and even after the party don't worry we thought of the time. Three, boys and girls rooms will be at different wings within the Keep! Just ask any of the maid or butler ghosts that will be joining us shortly and they will guide you to the rooms! Fourthly! There are sparing rooms if you wanna test your strengths with others, I only ask please don't get too carried away. We are here to have fun not make enemies! and lastly PLEASE DO NOT try to leave the castle, we are in the very afterlife of the multiverse people, its like the ocean and even I find it hard to navigate it sometimes. Portals can open up to any and all worlds, different timelines, etc etc. I have key items here in the castle that can pinpoint YOUR timeline and world so when the party is over I can send you home no problem, so again please do not attempt to leave."

Danny paused to take a breath, okay ground rules set up and warnings given. He could see the absolute bewildered looks on all the heroes faces and held back a laugh. He smiled however when one of the teens, mask on his face already and dressed in green, yellow, and red asked 'Why?'

"Why? Well... I think its time us teens get to have some fun without worrying about the next big bad or world ending event. Even if just for a weekend, we do deserve a break. So... Lets have some fun for once!" Danny responded.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #dpxdc #well hints of dpxdc #still putting it under it though because yeah totally would summon Robin #which Robin? eh anyone of them I guess #Danny uses a relic meant to pull people for tournaments and uses it for a party instead #CW gave his blessing cause he knows it'll both be good for Danny and fun for him to watch #the Heroes pulled can be from ANY worlds #all crossovers are welcomed #he knows the stress of being a teen hero #and wants other teen heroes have a weekend to de-stress #Jazz thinks it'll be a good thing for Danny too #let her brother have some teen fun for once #Sam and Tucker are helping out keeping everything going smoothly #and they get to have fun as well #CW and Danny's council are keeping the normal annoyances away from Danny for now #LET THEM HAVE FUN #o(*￣▽￣*)o

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icewindandboringhorror · 1 year

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Just curious what the average level of personal investment in these sorts of things is. Like, how much do people usually get into silly stuff like this their friends ask of them? etc. etc. Which I know, only surveying a small sample on a very specific website means I'm not getting an exact average idea lol, but.. curious nonetheless .. Maybe reblog for bigger sample size but also this is not very serious at all/not worth a call to action gbhjbhjb

#which I know this could be context dependent like.. maybe you'd normally dress up but on a week that #you feel sick you wouldn't or etc. etc. - but I mean.. GENERALLY. in the most general average scenario #where you have the average amount of health and free time that you always do. etc. just based on your personality #and level of investment in these things - what on AVERAGE are you most inclined to do #also of course assume they communicate with you ahead of time and are not like planning a part last minute #like 'throw together costume in 5 hours and show up tonight randomly' or etc. I would hope that if we're going with the #AVERAGE of things - most people's friends have better communication skills than springing entire parties #on people last minute lol #assume you have like.. a few days-a week or so to prepare. however ealrly people usually start talking about #birthdays. In my experience it's usually one or two weeks ahead of time. Like 'oh next weekend' or 'oh two weeks from now' etc.#ANYWAY.. feeling a little Sick again of course but still trying to get some photos or something posted #AGAIN i promise I am not going to exlcusively post polls and ntohing else forever hgkjgnekj #I just really really love the ability to post polls and have always my whole life been obsessed with surveying people #I used to think I wanted to do that as a career somehow like.. be one of the people that does psychological interviews #or produce interview asessments for a company or etc. etc. I am always the one friend in the group thats giving out custom made #surveys or asking for other simialr stuff (did you ever take an mbti quiz? how about enneagra #m?? oh yeah I know they're not really scientifically valid or antyhing but like... DID you take them?? huh?? did you??please?? ghjj)#I simply cannot resist.. posting a little poll every once in a while.. as a treat #whilst I still fall behind on like actual content and costumes and stuff gbjhbjh #New poll adventure should be not as much of a wait as the last one was though since I already have the writing #for it really. I just have to do the ms paint sketch. hopefully no unexpected other health issues will get in the way #*** *** ***#< (anytime I do these three star patterns it is an ocd compulsion not me bleeping out words or something just ignore it lol)#(it means something secret in my evil brain just pretend you do not see it. significant only to me)#BUT YEAH.. ... poll... what type of costume party atendee are you?#:0c

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rubydubydoo122 · 3 months

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Jason knows that Bruce will try. He will try to reach Jason, try to figure out how to get back to him.

But there's always that one day. That one day when he feels like they’re almost back to where they were before he died. There’ll always be something. Something that sends it all crashing down. And that something is usually Batman.

He knows that Bruce can never put the cowl down. It’s the same reason why the rest of them can’t either. It’s a special mix of adrenaline and guilt that keeps drawing them back to protecting people. In ways, it’s an addiction of sorts. And Bruce will always choose the high of being a hero over any of them.

Still, Jason nods whenever Bruce says he'll try harder. Because Jason is the moon. A cold and dry desolate landscape, and when water-the building block of life- when the oceans try to reach him, he can only try to reach back. He’ll always be grasping for something he’ll never be big enough to pull towards him.

#jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #red hood #dc comics #Tim probably thinks of Jason as the Sun to Bruce's Earth though #So does Dick #I wrote that while writing chapter 7 of 'In Every Universe; Still I Rise'#i'm hoping to get the chapter up by the end of the weekend btw

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reasonandfaithinharmony · 3 months

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Okay. In celebration of surviving this week, I am either going to do something creative and fulfilling. Or let myself stare blankly at a screen.

Haven't decided yet.

#i say this as though i'm actually in charge of making this decision lol #will the executive function kick in?#who knows #certainly not me #🙃#adulting #creative process #procrastination #weekend #art #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #fandom #mood

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acescorazon · 6 months

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I LOVE YOUR FIC CHANGES!!!!! I HOPE YOU UPDATE SOON!!!!!

THANK U BBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY. ILY MUAH. I was updating like every day but then i got my period... i mean i fell into a pit of darkness and didn't have the energy to climb out. How bizarre. ANYWAYS, HERE'S YOUR FOOD.

Title: Changes Ch: 5/?

Rating: M (I'm just putting that as the rating in general for every ch lol)

Word count:2291

Warnings: Depressed clown :(

Chapter excerpt:

"Mihawk keeps asking about you," Mohji announces all of a sudden, "He keeps asking if you're okay and if your illness is something serious." Hawkeye keeps asking about him… Why? To know if he's died yet? What a joke! That man doesn't care about Buggy, why is he even wasting his breath asking about him? "I just keep telling him that you have the flu, and he's always like, 'Ah…is that so? Tell him I hope he feels better.' Isn't that…ridiculous?!" Yeah, that is rather ridiculous. Buggy has a hard time believing that Mihawk is genuinely concerned about him, but at the same time, he can't imagine why he'd just pretend to care either. It's weird.

|Ch1|Ch2|Ch3|Ch4|

The next several days are on an endless loop for Buggy. He stays in bed all day, unwilling to come face to face with Mihawk after his little drunken rant from days prior, afraid of what Mihawk will say to him now that he's completely sober. So, he stays in bed, either sleeping or lost in thought. He should be preparing men, supplies, and their new flagship for departure, but he can't bring himself to do it. At the very least he should be making sure everything on Emptee Bluffs Island is going smoothly, and yet… he doesn't care about that either.

Being in Cross Guild is so…exhausting.

Crocodile has called for meetings every single day, and every day, Buggy has one of his men lie and say he's sick. He's missed about 10 meetings now, he thinks. He can't remember, everything is starting to blend in together. All he knows is that sooner or later Crocodile is going to get pissed and come looking for him, and then what? Beat him up? Threaten him? Actually, kill him this time?

Man, who cares?

Cabaji, Mohji, and Richie, often come by and sit with him, usually overly worried about Buggy's well-being and not believing him when he says he's just sick or tired, but of course, Buggy always tells them that he's fine.

Today, they're with him again, sitting by his bed and trying to get him to eat some of the sea king the other members of the crew somehow caught and killed today. "Captain…" Mohji sighs, "Come on, at least take a couple of bites." He asks, but he sounds more like he's begging than asking. "You've hardly eaten anything these last few days." While that is very true, it's because Buggy doesn't have much of an appetite these days, nothing tastes right or really interests him, and god knows he doesn't have the energy to make his own food…just… he just wants to sleep.

Buggy sits in his bed, slightly peeved that Cabaji and Mohji insist he sit up in general, and looks down at the sea king on his plate. He's not normally a picky eater, you can't be picky when you've spent most of your life at sea, but… this thing reminds him eerily of a poison dart frog with its vibrant color and spots, yet at the same time, it's got fins and a body like a snake... He doubts his men would actually cook up something poisonous, they aren't that naive…but still, Buggy has no interest in this fish..frog…snake thing.

But if he did die from ingesting it…that'd just be his luck, wouldn't it? Death seems… inescapable at this point, and he often wonders just what or who will end up taking his life first. "I'm not hungry," Buggy repeats, but Mohji and Cabaji seem determined today.

"Just take a couple of bites, please, Captain?" Mohji practically begs, "Just a couple, it's actually really good!" Doubt it, Buggy thinks.

Cabaji follows suit, "Yeah, just take a couple of bites and if you don't like it, you don't have to eat the whole thing! We'll just feed the rest to Richie, right, Mohji?"

"Right!"

Buggy really doesn't want to eat anything, but he hates to make the other two worry, so he ends up taking a couple of bites of his lunch, and yeah, it isn't bad…it's one of the better-tasting sea kings that he's had, this one actually tastes like chicken despite its weird appearance, but Buggy still only eats a couple of bites, just enough to get the other two off his back and then hands Mohji his plate to give to Richie.

He wants to lie back down, but the others won't let him. "Um, Captain?" Cabaji calls out, seemingly a little nervous, "Uh, how about I run you a warm bath and…uh, How about I help you wash and brush your hair today?" Cabaji suggests with a small grin. Oh, yeah, basic needs are a thing. Man, Buggy really doesn't care about any of that stuff anymore, he's going to die anyways, so what's the point? He'll just ask one of his men to make him look nice for his funeral.

"Okay?" Cabaji asks, still smiling.

Buggy understands what this really is about. This is a very polite and roundabout way of telling him he needs to bathe, but none of his men would ever outright tell him he stinks so they have to use words like, 'Oh, how about I run you a bath and help you wash your hair today?' Or, 'Wow, you look like you need to relax…how about a nice bath?'

Whatever.

Buggy lets Cabaji run him a bath, and he sits and waits in bed while he prepares everything for him. He watches Richie eat his leftover sea king, and can't help but think how nice it'd be to be a lion, well, actually a cat. If reincarnation exists, he thinks he'd like to live a carefree life as a cat, a spoiled one too. Being a pirate isn't something he thinks he'd want to do again unless he could live a life with his old crew again, this time a happy one that isn't cut short, maybe then he'd be a pirate again... Or he could be a star in the sky, that'd be nice.

"Crocodile has asked about you too, but only once, and when I told him you had the flu, he rolled his eyes at me and went: 'Of course that dumb clown is sick.' And then walked away! I tell ya, I don't know what the others see in those two!" Mohji frowns, "They're so mean to you! I… I think if we all banned together then we could…you know…." He whispers the next part of his sentence, "Show them who's boss."

Honestly if Buggy thought he and or his crew had a chance against Mihawk and Crocodile, then he would have had both of them taken out a long time ago, but he knows even with an army of men, he couldn't take out one of his business partners, let alone both. It's a fun thought though, "Let's not waste our time," Buggy replies, exhaling a long, shaky sigh, "Besides, it's like I told you before, I can handle those two! Do you really think I'd let them beat and bully me?!"

Mohji just stares at him from his seat, obviously not convinced but he doesn't push the subject any further, and thank God for that.

Cabaji reappears a few moments after that, telling Buggy his bathwater is ready, and in all honesty, Buggy rather not do this, but he doesn't feel like hearing the other two complain either. He follows Cabaji into the bathroom and tells him he can at least bathe himself, and somewhere at the back of Buggy's mind he feels like he should feel more ashamed by the situation, but he doesn't. His former captain always told him that good friends don't judge you when you're at your lowest times and that they instead help you when no one else will, and so maybe that's why he has no guilt about letting Cabaji wash his hair. He'd do the same for him and then some. He and Mohji are more than just subordinates, they're friends, no, they're family, and honestly Buggy doesn't deserve either one of them.

As he washes Buggy's hair, Cabaji also tells Buggy that Mihawk keeps asking about him. Again, Buggy finds the idea of Mihawk asking all of Buggy’s crew about his well-being almost comical. Did the world’s strongest swordsman grow a heart? Ha, as if. Or maybe Buggy’s earlier suspicions are correct, maybe Mihawk’s waiting, hoping that Buggy’s ‘flu’ will take him out and that he won’t have to deal with him anymore, which honestly seems like a more realistic explanation for everything.

A hot bath and a nice relaxing hair wash later, and Buggy’s sitting on the small couch in his room, getting his hair brushed by Cabaji as he listens to both Mohji and Cabaji ramble on about this and that, and occasionally bicker over trivial things. It feels like his men are the only consistency in his life, but he wonders if there will be a day when even that changes. Maybe he’ll end up with so many men that their crew will seem more like an army than a family, then again maybe he won’t live to see the day when that’s actually a problem. And if that doesn’t happen, then maybe Mihawk will eventually end up replacing Buggy’s crew with a new, more efficient one that he hardly knows let alone can consider his family…who knows?

Now, as stated before, Buggy’s usual visitors consist of Mohji, Cabaji and Richie, but today Buggy finds himself getting an additional guest in his room. Sometime around late afternoon Alvida joins Buggy’s already boisterous company, and as soon as she realizes Buggy’s perfectly fine, she sighs at him,”I knew you weren’t sick.” she mutters as she has a seat on the couch next to him after Cabaji and Mohji fight over who’s spot she can take, “But oh well, you won’t believe what I just saw.” She says, grinning.

Hopefully, she saw Crocodile and Mihawk board a ship and sail as far away from the island as possible, never to return again, but that’s just not realistic, is it? “What did you see?” Buggy asks though he’s not particularly curious about her gossip today.

“Mihawk and Crocodile were fighting.”

“Crocodile and Mihawk bicker every once in a while, so what?”

“No, they were actually physically fighting earlier.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know but they were both heated,” Alvida claims, “I think they reached a draw, but they were fighting for a long time, half the island saw it.”

Despite claiming that he doesn’t care about either of the two, Buggy’s slightly curious about Mihawk and Crocodile’s altercation. Sure they’ve butt heads a couple of times in the past because Crocodile is so damn overbearing and of course, Mihawk doesn’t take being bossed around lightly, but they never get physical with things, it’s usually just threats of possible fights that don’t go anywhere. Maybe that was it, maybe Crocodile just got too controlling again, and Mihawk got tired of it. He did say he was tired of Crocodile’s shit the other day… Yeah, that’s got to be it…Because what else could it be???

…

A couple of more days go by after that, and Buggy’s still stuck in that same loop: Sleep. Overthink. Sleep. Overthink. Sleep. Overthink. Of course, there are brief things that break the cycle like Mohji and Cabaji checking on him and feeding him and making sure he’s being taken care of, but other than that, it’s just sleep, overthink, repeat. He just doesn’t see the point in getting out of bed every day when Mihawk and Crocodile are just going to make his life a living hell, or worse, end his miserable existence.

Despite all his stress though, there are times when his bedroom is rather comforting, he knows that it offers him no real protection from the outside world, but in his room he feels safe and like he’s miles away from all his problems even though they’re literally just right outside. He thinks he’s missed, hm…12 meetings now, maybe 13 …14? Who knows, he’s surprised that Crocodile is even still calling for them, or that he hasn’t come barging into his room to yank him out of his bed and beat him to death for ruining his perfect schedule.

Buggy doesn’t care about Cross Guild though (or for much of anything right now) he never has and he doubts he ever will. He’s perfectly fine just keeping himself locked away in his bedroom for as long as possible. Mohji will take care of the others and if he doesn’t, then Alvida will, and if she doesn’t, then Buggy’s sure that Crocodile and Mihawk will boss his men around, but they’re strong, spirited, and oblivious, they can handle anything.

Something breaks his seemingly endless depressive cycle by the time he’s missed 18 meetings…or was it 19?

One of his men comes into his room around midmorning, like always, and tells him that a meeting has been called… But today, Mihawk’s the one who’s called for the meeting apparently, and Buggy instantly tells his subordinate to tell Mihawk that he’s still under the weather and can’t go to the meeting, to which his subordinate replies, “He says it’s urgent, Chairman Buggy, and that if you can’t go to the meeting room, that he’ll bring the meeting here instead.”

That’s got to be the worst, no, actually, the second worst thing he’s been told in his entire life. Why? Why now? Why can’t Mihawk and Crocodile just hold their dumb meetings by themselves? It’s not like Buggy gets to make any decisions or his input matters, why does he have to leave his safe space and go see them?

((A/n: Hate how they didn't add ChouChou to the live-action or Richie. The idea that some of you might not know that Richie is a lion and you might think he's just some guy is funny though lol.))

#one piece #cross guild #my writing #wondering if should post two updates today or save it for tomorrow lol #Look though the girls (gender neutral) are fighting!!#THINGS ARE SLOWLY STARTING TO CHANGE HMMMM #but first *singsongs* DRAMAAAA~#was gonna wait til the weekend to start posting all this bs but then i got the ask soooooooooo lol #ask #i be out here updating on random ass weekdays at random ass times when i know that the chances these will be seen are better during #the weekend #And yet...i say...fuck it...we ball...

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danwhobrowses · 11 days

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So after four months, Bell's Hells are off the moon

0.5/5 Stars - Some of the locals were nice but activities were shit and needs new management.

But what's this? Aabria with a steel chair!? She's probably cackling looking at the socials right now

#critical role #critical role spoilers #cr3 spoilers #cr spoilers #cr3 #cr3e92 #bell's hells #bells hells #crown keepers #aabria iyengar #glad they got to go off on Liliana though she needed to be told what for #drop them all at the key why don't you though? Not exactly helpful #four months for us but it was like a weekend trip for them - a terrible not fun at all weekend trip #the swap was extremely unexpected yes but we did want to see Dorian #but honestly Lolth what the shit? Are all the betrayer gods scheming? Aren't we all on the same side with Predathos?#to be fair I was dreading more bitter angst so I'm glad the Hells are comforting one another #but as an Ashton fan I wanted more of how they're feeling than the usual 'Imogen Laudna and Orym are sad' stuff #they lost their best friend after all - let Taliesin use his wordsmithery #nothing against the three but they do carry a lot of the narrative because of how intertwined their emotional states are with the plot #and ofc as a shipper I wanted Fearne and Ashton to comfort one another but hopefully next episode #but Orym's sending was tragic the lil guy needs Dorian right now so we better not kill him #big drider fear vision though no thank you no más non merci instant transmission outta there #we're either killing or writing off Opal for Deni$e it feels but poor Aimee is on her lonesome up there #if you see this hi Aabria! Unlikely but still hi Aabria!

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marsdemo · 29 days

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i dont take selfies often so here's a dirty mirror pic from valentines day and then 2 doodles of my outfits from when i went to back to back trans noise shows the weekend before all my finals were due

#happy tdov i love you smile #first show was so fucked up because i didnt mean to bring my jacket over but i was walking to the venue and forgot to leave it in my studio #MISTAKE. i had a longsleeve under it and a tank .... fucking sweating bullets in the pit all night it was so gross. but like can u blame me #it was cold as fuck on the walk because this was like mid december #second show of that weekend was so awesome though i had a ride and it was raining too so we could take a break between sets to cool off #got covered all over in bruises that night. and then i went back to my studio on campus and sat my ass down and started writing for the #zine i posted today. wheeeeee. ''we're still here'' on the poster back was referencing my fave song / album by hirs collective btw.. show 2

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mustangs-flames · 1 month

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I think I'll be releasing the redesigns for HTB characters in tandem with each Part as it's added. So, when the Part 1 rewrite begins this weekend, I will drop the 1994 designs for Mark, Cesar (+ mimic!Cesar), Lieutenant Cian, Sergeant Rebecca, and The Deer the same day the first chapter is uploaded. So anyone who wants to make art (please don't feel you have to though!) has references available <3

#hail true body #my ocs #my writing #i'llbbe uploading a rewritten chapter every weekend until we're caught up with where the au left off #this is so people have time to get used to new character names/places/and dates #as well as time to read the few new addition to scenes! :)#i hope that's okay #let me know!#please don't feel that you have to make art though! i don't want you to think you have to do that

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moonshine-nightlight · 2 years

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Nothing's Wrong with Dale: Part Fourteen

It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.

However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.

Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F

AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale - Chapter 14 - MoonshineNightlight - Original Work [Archive of Our Own]

[Part One][Part Two][Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six][Part Seven] [Part Seven.5] [Part Eight][Part Nine][Part Ten][Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] Part Fourteen [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two] [Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four] [Part Twenty-Five] [Part Twenty-Six] [Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight] [Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] [Part Thirty-Three] [Part Thirty-Four]

It’s easier than you think, to find Dale’s tent—you might have guessed it would have a prominent Northridge banner on it. There isn’t a way to knock, so you cautiously pull the flap aside and ask, “Lord Dale?”

Your cheeks immediately heat because Dale’s taken the majority of his armor off and is changing his shirt. The muscles of his back ripple as leans down to pick up a fresh linen shirt, discarding the sweat stained one. “My lady?” he replies, surprised and starts to turn to face you. Without thought you spin around, knowing you’ll be unable to look him in the eye for days if you are confronted with the sight of his bare chest, alone in this small tent together. You’re not sure if simply the sight of his bare back is going to be enough to keep you from doing so anyways.

“My apologies,” you stammer. “I should have waited outside. In fact, I should—”

“It’s alright,” he says, sounding not offended, but mildly amused—which does nothing for your embarrassment. Now you feel like a sheltered child—the fact that you once were one is unhelpful in mitigating that feeling. You have seen others in various states of undress before—it's simply different with your fiance, with Dale. He’s attractive enough on his own, you knew that before, but then it was a fact, detached, when combined with his arrogance and peacocking—like the way a painting could be beautiful. Another reason for him to brag, for you to not quite meet him on his level.

This Dale, he doesn’t flaunt his appearance, for all he favors clothes that suit him still. The difference is in his attitude, in the way he bears himself. The way the sunlight lightens his dark brown hair, the dimple to his smile, the depth to his eyes, the warmer and warmer his skin has grown in color since the incident—it all catches you off guard now, at the most distracting moments, because he is not constantly shoving it to the forefront of everyone’s attention.

“I’m clothed now.” You slowly turn back around to find Dale’s fresh white shirt on and tucked in, his quilted vest on over it but unfastened. You aren’t sure whether you are grateful or not. “You’ll forgive me if I refrain from putting back on any additional layers or armor,” Dales says, with a small smile. “I am trying to recover from the heat as best I can during this reprieve.”

“Of course, of course,” you reply, trying to catalog miscellaneous details around the room to distract and hopefully calm yourself. Unfortunately, the tent is rather plain and so you note the various armor and refreshments far too quickly.

“What brings you to see me?” Dale asks, only curiosity in his voice—no annoyance at your interrupting his likely attempt to have some time to himself, no dismissiveness at your unneeded presence. You’re able to meet his eyes again, his expression is open before he frowns slightly, reaching to his vest buttons. “Is it already time to begin the next tilt? The Field Marshal said it would be at least another quarter of an hour..” He looks over at the small table in the corner where his pocket watch lays.

“No, no,” you hurry to reassure him. “Nothing like that, or rather, if the round is reconvening so soon, I do not know of it.”

“Oh, alright,” Dale relaxes a bit at that, his fingers falling from his buttons as he twists where he stands, stretching out some of his muscles.

“However, I did wish to speak to you about the current match,” you say, interlocking your fingers together so as not to fidget with them.

Dale’s eyebrows raise and his brow furrows. “Oh? I did not think you overly interested in jousting, not enough to wish to discuss one with me in the middle of the tournament. Is something wrong?”

“I am not—or, you are right,” you hastily say, not wanting him to take offense at your general disinterest in jousting. “Jousting seems far more dangerous than its worth, in my eyes. The most recent tilts though, well, I believe that perhaps, I have noticed…”

You bite your lip because he’s right, you’ve no idea about jousting or lance work—only minor prior knowledge and then everything you’ve overheard from your schoolmates or from the Northridges today. How can you think that you have noticed what they have not? What no one at the tournament has? What Dale himself has given no sign of thinking despite literally smashing into the man? Perhaps since you know Dale’s true nature, you might have slight informational advantage over Grandfather and the others, but Dale himself knows who he is.

“Noticed what, my Lady?” Dale’s voice cuts through your thoughts. He still doesn’t look annoyed or judgmental. He has one of his gauntlets in hand from when he thought he had to hurry, but he’s merely turning it in his hand as he often does, keeping his fingers busy while he thinks. You’ve seen him do it with his cane or a pen the other times you’ve discussed important information. He looks as interested in hearing what you have to say here and now as he has any other time he’s asked your opinion, for whatever reason.

You take a deep breath. You’d thought strongly enough about this back in the stands to come here. Which would you rather: warning Dale when it is unnecessary or failing to warn him when it is? That at least, is no true question. Still, you should be very careful about what you say next. “I believe Eastmount is cheating,” spills out instead.

Dale pauses, fingers freezing where they hold his gauntlet. He frowns as he looks back at you. “Cheating?”

You nod, swallowing under Dale’s scrutiny. “Yes, I believe he’s enhanced his strength somehow, or done something to his shield—with materials or energies from the Depths.”

Dale’s whole body stills at that. “From the Depths?”

“When the break was called,” you hurry to explain, “his squire came out to attend to him and he seemed angry. Obviously he didn’t expect you to be as strong as you are since he hasn’t been able to unhorse you as he has the others—he was reprimanding the squire, gesturing with his gloves and at his shield and saddle. He left all three with the squire, who then called over a stablehand who looked far more like a mage.”

Dale is still too rigid as he continues to stare at you without blinking. His gaze is calculating, weighing your words. “But you suspected something before this—you wouldn’t have been paying such close attention to them otherwise.” It’s not a question.

“Yes, I did,” you admit. “Eastmount seemed too strong.” You remember that subconscious way Dale had rubbed his hand. “I…” you swallow and meet his eyes straight on, hoping he understands what you aren’t saying, hoping that isn’t a mistake. “I know your strength. While you were unhorsed earlier, through technique, not force. In fact, I do not think anyone in the tournament could do such a thing,” you admit, fighting through the tightening that you can almost feel in the air, “and it appeared to me that he was matching it in a way I don’t think…”

You scramble for the right words as Dale stares back at you, dark eyes wide, “I don’t think possible, not without something to enhance his own.” Dale’s strength is inhuman, you think as you continue to look back at him, and so Eastmount would need something inhuman to match it.

“I see,” he says, muscles rigid and eyes still unblinking. You dare not look away, not even when the shadows seem to roil in the corner of your eyes. Slowly, he tilts his head to the side, his voice somehow emptier than it should be, echoing as if coming from a further distance away than simply his chest, “And what do you think should be done? About such a…challenge.”

At that, you can’t help but spread your empty hands. “I’ve no notion of what can be done. Particularly given the severity of the accusation and of what your grandmother’s response could be.” He straightens his head and you worry he’ll take that as a threat, when it's not what you mean so you stumble on, “You know how she feels about such things. A test of all competitors and their equipment would be likely and that is not the…ideal situation.”

He offers no response and while you try to convey your sincerity, you’re not sure it's getting across. He seems far less human than usual and your decision to meet him alone feels foolish now. What if he decides that you knowing what he is is a danger he cannot afford?

Then, something in his shoulders eases and he finally, finally blinks. “No,” he says, sounding wryly amused. “Not particularly. I’d noticed how tilting him felt rather like driving my lance into a brick wall. That his lance struck with a force more akin to a much larger foe on a much larger horse. I’d simply thought him particularly skilled. This makes more sense,” he admits ruefully.

You feel tension drain from you at Dale’s reaction, a weight you’d not realized you were carrying, lifts.

Dale taps his chin thoughtfully with the gauntlet. “This also puts what he said at the start of the match in a different context.” When you frown quizzically, Dale flaps his hand dismissively. “Something about seeing who had the most skill and may the smarter man win. I’d thought it odd since he doesn’t particularly like me and we’ve never jousted—now I remember, the last time he saw me, there was an argument about methods and which scholar had the better insight.”

Ah. The Dale from then and Eastmount must have both been interested in demonic power—Eastmount favoring tools, or so it appears to you, and Dale obviously having intended to enhance himself. While you’re not sure how the current result reflects on either of them, it also would further explain Eastmount’s particular frustration—he clearly has no idea he isn’t truly facing Dale and must feel he’s at a standstill in an intellectual debate in addition to a physical one.

“But what is there to do? From what I could see and from what you tell, clearly his shield and likely gauntlets and saddle are all steeped in power,” you say, frowning as you try to work through the problem. “I fail to see how anything that could be done to overpower him would be helpful or achievable.”

“Eastmount’s short-sighted,” Dale says, thoughtfully, “and unimaginative. His designs are likely all to do with strength and solid seating, anything to push his opponent away and to keep the same from happening to him. And I likely would have continued to simply put more of my strength into my tilts, but if that can’t work…”

His eyes light up. “Then I simply have to outmaneuver him.”

“He could be changing his strategy as we speak, same as you,” you caution, more because you feel you should than anything else because you’re not sure you believe he will. You recall his anger, his frustration, the way he berated his allies and then stormed off in a huff. As Dale says, he seems more likely to dig himself in deeper rather than one to adapt.

“Perhaps,” Dale nods before shrugging. “But staying my course at this point is foolish.”

You nod because you agree and a thoughtful silence fills the tent. Just as you begin to feel awkward, a smile spreads across Dale’s face. He lifts a hand, as if to reach for you, but ultimately, he merely adjusts his vest, as if thinking better of it. “I appreciate your insight, my Lady. If we had continued to clash as we have been… I’m certain someone one other than you would have noticed. And then who knows what sort of suspicion would have consumed this tournament.”

You feel heat flood your cheeks at the sincerity, the compliment. “I merely did not wish for any misfortune to befall you, if I could be of assistance in preventing such an event.”

Some of the ease in Dale vanishes at that and his gaze is far more calculating than it had been. “Yes, and why is that? Not that I do not appreciate your… delicate handling of such a matter.”

You know he must be referring to your disclosure of your knowledge of his own inhuman nature, though it's clear he’s unsure of what exactly you know. You don’t know what to say, any more than you did with Steward Bilmont. Somehow, admitting you prefer this him feels like a far too vulnerable admission on your part. As such, you simply give him a polite smile, “You are my fiance, how could I not?”

Slowly, very slowly, he nods for all he’s no longer blinking again. It's clear he doesn’t understand, but he’s not pushing you on it. “Still, I thank you.”

“You are welcome,” you reply before the urge to run, which you’ve been fighting since you left the stands to some degree or another, is irresistible. “I believe I should return to my seat. No doubt you shall be recalled to tilt soon enough and I would not want to interrupt such preparations.”

“Of course,” Dale says, fading back to his more blunted way of being human. Still, even then, there is some amusement to him as he says, “I shall see you when the tournament is over.”

You freeze, having forgotten that Grandmother had named you as the one to present the prizes to the winners. Between the joust and the melee, you’ll need to move to join her in the judges booth. “Yes, right. I shall see you then.”

You find yourself back in your seat surprisingly quickly, though you know you’ve been gone for longer than expected. You hope the wine you had the sense to procure on the way back is excuse enough. You let the talk wash over you, mostly listening for an increase in speculation. Luckily, you hear none, only grumbles about shoddy craftsmanship, the high heat of the sun, the time it's taking to resume the joust. Speculation regarding victors is still high, with only eight competitors left.

Dale has seemingly good odds to make it into the final four, even given the current tie with Eastmount. Knight Alry is also a favorite, who won against Dale in the elimination jousting round and so is a Knight from Genry. You overhear a comment from someone who must think you’re already seated with Grandmother and the judges, wondering aloud why a knight from the bride’s family isn’t here to compete.

You stiffen, keeping your eyes forward, and fail to hear the answer when an increase in crowd volume tells you that the Field Marshal has returned with fresh lances. You’re relieved to have missed the reply, wondering what they might have even said. Truthfully, your family did not see it necessary to send someone to compete for Portsmith, not for this simple marriage of their youngest. Honestly, you doubt it even crossed their mind to send someone.

Both of your brothers are skilled knights, but risking Asher, who is set to inherit, would not be an option and his children were too young to compete. Douglas likely would have competed out of his own desire, except that he’s on a military campaign in the North. You’re not even sure if your parents have mentioned your upcoming wedding to him, let alone if he’ll bother to put in a request to come to the wedding itself. Your sisters do not have the necessary martial skills for this type of tournament—your oldest sister skilled in the combat traditions of her husband and your other sister uninterested in anything of the sort, even more so than you are.

Other cousins are scattered about, but none are particularly close to you. You don’t think your parents considered whether it might be seen as an insult to not send someone to represent them, to bolster you, because the marriage itself is the key in their mind—and neither like tournaments as it is. You wonder how much of your own distaste is from them. You know they would not have thought to send someone to make you feel less alone, by yourself in Northridge for the last month and for the rest—it doesn’t matter, in the end.

A flash of red makes you realize you’ve been starting sightlessly at the field for likely too long and you blink yourself back to awareness. You’re relieved no one seems to have noticed your mental absence. Swallowing, you straighten in your seat and focus on that red that your eyes were already drawn to—Eastmount’s tunic with his coat of arms on it. Your eyes travel along from his gloves, which are already on, to the look on his face. Whatever frustration he previously felt has been replaced with smug confidence once more.

You strain your eyes as his squire hands him his shield, looking for changes, for differences to it, but you can’t identify any change—you don’t doubt there has been one though. In the very least the influence, the energy, has been refreshed. It must have been for Eastmount to no longer be concerned. You bite your lip and turn away from him, eyes landing on Dale at the opposite end of the lane. He’s adjusting his shield, his squire holding his lance for him while he does so. Once he’s happy with the shield, he glances around, scanning the stands and you swear he meets your eyes for just a split second, before his helm covers his face and he takes up his lance.

You take a fortifying gulp of wine as he gets in position. A hand lands on your arm and you jump in your seat. Turning, you see one of Dale’s cousins, his face pinched with what might be concern. “Are you alright, my Lady?”

“Yes, thank you for your inquiry,” you reply reflexively, but his frown only deepens, so you try for a sheepish smile. “My family is not overly fond of tournaments and I admit my nerves only grow each time it is Lord Dale’s turn for a tilt.”

Joel’s smile gentles. “I understand your trepidation, but Cousin Dale is skilled, we have physicians standing by—all will be well.”

You widen your smile and nod, not fully mollified, but strangely his words do help. “Thank you, perhaps I simply needed to hear it from someone other than myself.”

Before either of you can say anything more, a trumpet blast brings your attention back firmly to the riders. They’re already in motion, charging for each other, and before you know it, their lances hit shields. It’s almost predictable at this point, the way they both shatter. What isn’t expected is the way Dale leans in and catches Eastmont’s shield with his own. They lock together and Dale seems to pull him forward and sideways, twisting his very caught off guard opponent and then shoving him. Eastmont goes sprawling into the dirt.

Half the crowd stands up as cheers ring through the stands at his maneuver. While it wasn’t unheard of for someone to do such a thing, it was unexpected enough that the crowd was quite entertained. In response to the noise, Dale pulls off his helm, tucking it under his arm as he bows in the saddle to his grandmother and then to the audience at large. He leans over the barrier to say something to Eastmont, back on his feet but clearly furious over the outcome. Grudgingly he accepts Dale’s offered handshaking, knowing the only thing worse than a loss is one suffered disgracefully.

As Dale lets go and starts to guide his horse back to where his squire waits to accept the reins, he looks back to the stands and you swear that he looks directly at you—and winks.

[Part Fifteen]

#my writing #story: nothing's wrong with dale #nothing's wrong with dale #story part #terato #exophilia #osha compliant #arranged marriage #male monster #monster bf #dale: once more with feeling #back on schedule #gonna lie down though cuz jsut got covid booster and flu shot #my last weekend ren faire with our himbo knight was super inspirational lol #but it was cool to see some irl jousting #didn't rly factor in here but it was a good time #there's gonna b another tournament part cuz this went longer than i expected #let me know what you thought!

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meownotgood · 8 months

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THAT'S 60,000 WORDS LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO!!

#RAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH #I might write a little bit more this weekend we'll see cause I may be busy #current status on chapter two: beginning portion edited and good #still working on editing the smut and #I don't know if it's just taking forever or if I added way too much to the scene where you jerk aki off #because why am I still working on that segment #you haven't even slurped on it yet #editing the rest of the smut is sure too take just as long though because after this scene #everything is pretty much rough outline mode #so there's a lot of work that needs to be done #I've also started working on the ending #I'm about halfway done with the rough draft for it #I figured out what I want to do with it I think #at this point I think I will certainly get close to 70k words but I'm not quite sure yet if I'll actually break that barrier #there's a ton that needs to be added to the second half of the chapter though so it's definitely possible #and I still can't say when exactly I'll be done #my current hope is to release the second chapter about three weeks after the first #is that good? is that too long???#you promised you'd be willing to wait didn't you... yes I'm talking to you....#I'm starting to gain a little more confidence in the second chapter after working on it more #gonna have my bestie read it when I'm done so she can affirm that I am indeed not a failure #ok I've talked too much #aki sex. soon. aki sex

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nightmun · 3 months

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I wanted to talk a bit more about my intern OC Handtern since I haven't really gone into them much since I made them a proper character, so I decided to make this post about them! It's pretty long and kinda consists of two separate parts due to this character technically having two designs (I was gonna do two posts instead of the one initially but decided against it since it is the same character and it would be better to have it all in once place) so if you want to read more it will be under the cut!

Handtern is a bit of a more out there take on the intern, going all in on the long arm idea. They pretty much just are a stretchy arm snake that originates from somewhere in the hospital (no one is really sure from where though). They don't really have a proper name so everyone just started calling them Handtern after a while. No one, including themselves, are quite sure where they came from or when they initially showed up, but ever since the implementation of the rhythm treatment program they have been working as an intern at Middlesea Hospital. They aren't able to do too much in terms of helping the patients directly due to the limitations of being literally just an arm, but they have an impeccable sense of rhythm and excel at pressing a button (I mean what better job for the literal doctor finger?).

Personality wise, Handtern is a super kind and friendly individual. They are really sweet at heart, but unfortunately that doesn't really translate too well when you're an ominous arm with no real good way of emoting. Because of this, as much as they want to befriend the patients, they tend to keep their distance form several of them, knowing that they make most people pretty uncomfortable.

The only people they interact with more regularly outside of working are the three kids and Cole and Nicole. Hailey, Logan and Lucia are the only people who go out of their way to include Handtern in anything. Maybe it's because they're younger, but they seem unbothered by Handtern's otherworldly appearance and will invite them to join in several activities, which Handtern much appreciates. Cole and Nicole are pretty laid back and tend to be less bothered by Handtern as well, so they will hang around the two of them on occasion. They have even gotten a few piano lessons from Cole after a rather abysmal performance on the cafe's piano, though Handtern doesn't typically hang around them too often since Cole and Nicole tend to have their own thing going on.

Everyone else in the hospital is either mildly uncomfortable with them to varying degrees but are too nice to say anything, or in the case of Richard specifically, openly rude and constantly expresses the strangeness of the intern being an ominous arm snake (as well as questioning their effectiveness at their job because of it). Handtern has learned to tolerate it, though, since they can't really blame people for being uneasy around them. Still, it can get to them sometimes, especially since they do really want to connect with people in a way they can't really accomplish as they are.

As is probably obvious, there are a lot of challenges that come with being literally just an arm, and by far the biggest one for Handtern is communication. Without a mouth, they can't just talk to people. Despite being a hand, they're not too well versed in sign language, and most of the patients don't really know it either anyways. Writing is an option, but their handwriting is absolutely terrible (try writing when your arm is a noodle) so it can be really hard to read. They can twist their form to spell letters, but that takes a lot of effort and can be really tiring, especially if they have a lot to say. So typically they rely on shaking their hand "yes" or "no" to respond to simple questions, or elaborate noodle arm charades if they want to get a more complicated point across. Another solution that they started using lately is the use of a button board, similar to the ones people will give to their dogs. While it isn't a perfect solution, it does allow them to communicate more than just "yes" and "no" without having to make people guess what they're saying.

So that's pretty much the basics of Handtern, so now on to the other version of them that exists:

I originally wasn't gonna do more with Handtern than just having them as the long noodle arm, but after one of my friends asking what they'd look like as a human and a desire to have an intern that can emote a bit more than not at all I decided to give them person privileges. Idk if Haniel will be actually canon to their story or if they'll just remain a "what if?" type version of the character but regardless I wanna talk about them cause I have a LOT of art of them already that I want to post with actual context as to who the hell they are first.

So this is Haniel, the human form of Handtern. After a pretty bad encounter with Connectifia Abortus, something happened (still don't have this too fleshed out yet so if I figure it out at some point I'll edit this later) that led the virus to turn Handtern into a human (can the virus do this? Who cares it can make a dude's head fall off without killing him and causally delete an eighth of a person's heart so imma put that as the reason). After the change, they picked up the name Haniel in place of Handtern since the latter didn't really fit anymore.

Being turned human obviously comes with a bit of adjusting. Things that seem pretty simple like walking or drinking water are a pretty big challenge to them and take a while to get used to. Sleep is also something they're really not used to, and they end up being tired a lot because they keep forgetting that's something they need to do now. That and the stress of trying to keep up with the pace they were able to accomplish before despite their newer limitations leads to a lot of stress early on, and their first week of being a person in particular is pretty rough.

It's not all bad though. Now that Haniel can talk, they have a world of things to say. They have a tendency to drone on a lot, reveling in the fact they can finally say the things on their mind instead of fighting a war to get even the most simple points across. Food is also something they really enjoy, since without a mouth before all they could really do is smash their hand into stuff. They're particularly a fan of sweet things, though anything with even a sub par flavor is heaven to them. They also really enjoy just being something that doesn't creep people out. Now that they are a person, they can interact with others in a way they never could before, especially since most people aren't uncomfortable or outright scared of their presence anymore. They do still have a bit of self consciousness about socializing though, partially because they have so little knowledge of human social cues and behaviors (mainly cause they were a hand before but also because they haven't observed too many human social interactions outside of people being treated) and partially because they still have that feeling that everyone dislikes or is afraid of them from their time being the hand. Even with both the positives and negatives, though, they're still determined as ever to help people as best they can and they will always do it with a smile on their face.

So I hope those of you who did take the time to read this enjoyed learning a little more about my silly little goober of a character. They're a bit more odd than your typical intern but they still do their best to fit in with the hospital, and with how weird that place is anyways it really isn't too hard. You'll definitely see more art of them in the future though, both as the hand and as the person. Hope you all will enjoy seeing those and thanks for reading!

Also real quick at the end here's a little ref of the two designs so you can properly see them,,

#rhythm doctor #intern #handtern #haniel #my art #my god this took so long to write yeesh #I was gonna add more art to this post but I decided not to cause this took long enough as is and I really don't wanna draw more for this #I'll probably make art relating to stuff I talked about here eventally but I don't want to do that now #plus I wanted to get this post done this weekend #though I wanted to post it like two hours ago but the writing and the art took longer than I thought :')#but whatever hope y'all enjoy this and hopefully tumblr won't hide this from the RD tag like it's been doing with a few of my posts lately

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