#Look at this dastardly duo

[devilfic]

❝honeymoon❞

III. on the clock.

parts: previously plot: your mother has been conducting business with some pretty shady business partners and it puts you in danger. thankfully, saving you is in your husband's job description. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: arranged marriage, friends to enemies to (fake) lovers, implied history between reader and bruce, violence, bruce being a little Bossy, use of the gender neutral honorific "mx" (feel free to insert mr. or mrs. there if you like). words: 2.1k.

a/n: been watching a bit of supergirl lately and I'm a big fan of the "supergirl is lena's scary guard dog" dynamic they've got going on. got inspired

You suck in a breath between barely parted lips before the smoke hits you in a cloud. Thick, pungent. You hold your breath even as the smoke tickles your eyes, makes them water, until it clears and all you're left with is the bastard sitting across from you, "I understand that it might be... upsetting to hear, but Wayne Enterprises thanks you for all you've done during our partnership."

Cigar hanging from the jaws of a wolf, Mr. Carpinelli is hardly upset. He's grinning around the head of his cigar when he tells you, "You're making a big fucking mistake." He's furious.

You keep your head held high, "Again, I deeply apologize for how abrupt this must be. As acting CEO, I have had to make some tough decisions in the past but this is by far one of the toughest." You bite the lie out, appearing sweet and docile. "You were one of our best. We will be looking forward to all Carpinelli & Sons' future business ventures."

You hear the hacking in his throat before it lands on the ground in front of your feet: a fat, muddy glob of spit sits a (thankful) hair away from your shoe, and even you can't bother to hide your scowl.

You let him smoke in your (Bruce's) office. You let him kick his feet up on your desk. You even let him have some of the good brandy, and watched him gobble it up like four ounces of the stuff didn't cost the full price of his pretty snakeskin shoes.

And he spit at you.

Mr. Carpinelli stands to his feet and puts his cigar out on your desk and really, that should have did it for you, but you bite your tongue until you taste blood. Then he points one fat finger at you, about as fat as the Corojo burning a ring in your desk, "Tell your bitch of a mother she should've told me herself."

"My bitch of a mother didn't give the order," and your venom is not on behalf of your mother, lest anyone be mistaken, "I did."

Something flickers in Carpinelli's eyes. Without another word, he leaves the office in a flourish, and you sink back into your chair only when your ears cease ringing.

Bruce is delighted. Or you think he might be. You weren't certain what delight looked like on him these days, but the solid "OK" in response is enough for you to focus on your shaking. You remind yourself that you're not out of the woods yet, and that Carpinelli was only one half of the dastardly duo you needed to break up. Eventually, or rather, imminently, she would find out what you'd done. It'd be better to break the news in person before she got word from Carpinelli herself.

But Bruce approved. Bruce, who'd been on the same page as you when you'd brought up the idea, who'd left you in less despair than when he'd found you, agreed with you. Your mother be damned and damned should she be, you at least had Bruce on your side.

You step out into humidity and immediately one of the doormen flanks you, rushing to open your car door for you with a "Goodnight, Mx. Wayne" and a "get home safe" that goes in one ear and out the other. You just barely have the wits about you to return the pleasantry, climbing into the backseat of your car with your hand halfway to the collar of your coat when you freeze.

Across from you is Mr. Carpinelli, smiling around another cigar. How the smell of it hadn't hit you when you first sat down was far beyond you. The car jerks into Gotham city traffic without a hitch. A glance in the rear-view tells you that this is not your usual driver.

You're trying really hard to not let this get to you.

"I forgot to say before: congratulations on the nuptials."

"We're not married just yet."

Carpinelli raises an eyebrow, "But you still make the help call you Wayne?"

"Can I help you with something, Mr. Carpinelli?" It takes some hidden strength in you to keep the shake out of your voice, "Perhaps I wasn't clear enough before?"

The mob boss stretches his leg until his foot is pressing into the bottom of your seat, those same pretty snakeskin shoes marred by mucky rainwater. You turn your knees away but feel the water drip onto your ankle. You resist the severe urge to drive an ice pick through his skull.

"I called your mommy after our little conversation," your blood runs cold, "and she told me to disregard your little... power trip." He blows a ring of smoke, "So no bad blood here."

"Did she, now?"

"Mhm. Seemed pretty pissed, too. Hope she doesn't ground ya."

"You seem to think it's her name on the building."

"It ain't yours."

"Yet."

Carpinelli laughs, brushing some ash onto the carpet, "Funny. How that works." And he sits up, crouching in front of you with his cigar raised above your knee. His other hand clutches it in his meaty palm. His cigar is close enough to the skin that you can feel the heat coming off of it, all the while struggling against suffocating on the smoke. Your phone is in your coat pocket and there'd be no way to discreetly get to it with him this close. "Listen, doll. I'm doing this as a courtesy. I don't usually give people the chance to piss me off twice."

The panic button in all Wayne Enterprises vehicles is under the seat, however.

Carpinelli keeps talking and you take your hands out of your lap, leaning forward and feigning that you're listening. All the while, your fingers are stretching under the seat, searching for that little, tiny, infinitesimal-

The car rocks violently as something heavy lands on top of it with a thud. It shocks Carpinelli enough that he lets your knee go, turning his head up to the ceiling, "What the fuck was that?"

The driver knows just as much as the two of you do. You feel him jerk the car straight, but before he can pull over to check what made the sound, a fist punches through the roof of the car.

It's enough to make Carpinelli fall over like a bumbling buffoon.

He doesn't get very long to collect himself. The metal of the roof is being torn back, making an ugly sound as the hole gets bigger. You manage to locate the panic button just in time to see a hand reach down into the car and grip Carpinelli by the front of his suit and... and snatch him out.

The driver nearly crashes the car into a building trying to pull to a stop, fumbling futilely for the handgun at his side, but another hole is punched into the roof above his head and he's dragged out just as dramatically as Carpinelli.

Before you can be stolen too, you crawl to the front and unlock the car before throwing your full weight against the door to escape.

Outside, you find the driver splayed out on the sidewalk, out cold. On the street, Carpinelli is crawling away on all fours from... your husband. In all his caped glory.

"I-I didn't do nothing! I swear!" Carpinelli cries. You watch, however, as Bruce plods up to him. He ignores his pleas for mercy and yanks him up by the collar once more. Carpinelli's feet dangle inches off the ground.

"Who'd you pay off?" Bruce's voice barely carries over the noise of the city, but you hear it from where you're crouched behind the car.

"Wh... what? What are you talking about?" Bruce violently shakes Carpinelli and you watch as the smaller man grips at his arm for dear life. "I swear to God, I got no idea what you're talking about!"

"Your driver. Not your car. Who did you pay off?"

Carpinelli's eyes are wild. You've never seen true fear like that before, "Nobody! Nobody. My guy stole the keys and badge off the other driver. That's all!" When Bruce doesn't immediately release him, the mob boss keeps squealing, "T-The driver's in the boiler room. Knocked out cold. He's not dead. I promise."

Seconds might as well be minutes as you and Carpinelli hold your breaths. Waiting for the Batman's judgment.

Bruce yanks Carpinelli toward the car, rams his head into the trunk, and lets the unconscious mob boss roll under the boot.

After a few stuttered breaths, you stand to your feet.

Bruce doesn't raise his head from where he'd been staring down Carpinelli, but his eyes flit to you in an instant. Stepping over the bottom half of your abductor, Bruce makes his way around to you.

You're gearing up to tell him you're alright when his hands find both sides of your face, effectively silencing you, "Did he hurt you?"

You tremble. The adrenaline rush was falling steadily, but Bruce hasn't touched you like this since... since... since before he began to hate you.

His eyes are all full of concern though, the clearest his expression has been toward you since this whole engagement kicked off in the first place. You feel like you're really seeing him right now and it's too delicate for you to grasp. You wade in it a little longer, selfishly, "You got here just in time. Before I even hit the panic button, I- how?"

You're surprised to find Bruce suddenly timid. He releases your cheeks and despite the dewy heat of early summer, you crave the warmth of his hands instantaneously. "There's a bug in the office."

You blink, "Come again?"

"The cars, too."

"Like... recently, or..." Bruce gives you a look that says "I think you know the answer to that". Somehow, this is more chilling than almost being kidnapped. "Do you... listen to everything?"

"Do you have something to hide?"

No, you want to say, just hours of me singing to myself, ranting to the wall, and unscheduled visits from my mother about how I should baby trap you. Surely, if he'd heard any of that, he'd have sued your mother into oblivion and this whole marriage would have been done for. You swallow down the panic and shake your head, "Not really, no."

Sirens in the distance grow louder as they reach your destination, and sure enough, the signal to the GCPD had gone through without a hitch. Several cop cars round the corner and Bruce carries Carpinelli and the driver's body out into the street for them to pick up.

You glance between him and the first cop that pulls up, "I should... probably grab another ride to my mother's. She's going to be furious about... well, everything."

But before you can walk away, Bruce grips your upper arm and pulls you back into his side, making you stumble and grab onto his chest. You stare up at him, bewildered. Bruce grunts. "That can wait. I'm taking you home."

"But the police-"

"Emilio Carpinelli? Is it my birthday, Batman?" One of the cops snickers as he walks up, handcuffs at the ready, "What happened here?"

Bruce cuts you off before you can answer, "Attempted kidnapping and criminal threat toward the Wayne Enterprises CEO. Carpinelli admitted to the assault of the Waynes' driver, as well as stealing his badge and keys. Send a car to Wayne Enterprises to retrieve the driver from the boiler room. That's all he admitted to."

"Will do. And you, Mx. Wayne? Sure hope he didn't get his filthy paws on ya."

You shake your head, "No, thank goodness. Batman arrived just in time."

The cop nods, "Well, we'll probably need to bring you in for further questioning. Just to corroborate the story in fuller detail."

"Tomorrow. Bruce Wayne wants them back home now."

The cop looks between you and Batman, eyes narrowing in confusion. Eventually, they land back on you for confirmation, "Yes," you breathe, leaning into Bruce's side with intention now, "my husband- well, fiancé is very worried. But I'll be happy to stop by the precinct bright and early tomorrow morning, if that's alright?"

And it's not like the guy is gonna argue with you when your kidnapping lead to the arrest of one of the biggest dons running Gotham City. He leaves you and Bruce with a nod and a call to stay safe.

But as Bruce leads you in the direction of what is slowly appearing to be the "Batmobile", you pry his hand off your arm and hold it in between you instead, "Mr. Wayne wants me home, you said?"

Bruce pointedly ignores the teasing in your tone, "God forbid someone else tries to make off with you."

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat @yehet-moi-ohorat @bluestuesday

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman fic #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites

[celticcrossanon]

Honestly even though that vile grifter deserves the humiliation and karma of a divorce (AND being callously stripped of everything she conned for herself), I think the two of them being stuck in a loveless, fake / sham marriage (MM especially) and being disappointed / having extreme anxiety about money and how her smash and grab didn’t work out as planned is the best poetic justice. May the dastardly duo have an even worse 2024. Meghan in particular with her revolting greed and avarice.

Hi Nonny,

The marriage is certainly not working out as either of them hoped. My only concern about it is that I think Harry is an abused spouse, and whatever his actions towards his family (which I think are horrible), no one deserves to be abused by their partner. If it were not for that then I would be happy for them to be married for their lifetimes with no divorce.

I don't think 2024 is going to be particularly good for the Harkles. I would be very surprised if they managed to turn their bad image around, and I also think that we will be hearing more bad news about them in 2024.

The first thing that comes to mind is the Epstein list. If it is going to be released, then I am looking for people who travelled to his island multiple times (as once could be a friend saying 'Come to this party with me' etc). We all know Prince Andrew should be on the list, but I am wondering if other royals will appear or if Megan will appear, and if so for how many times.

[pookacangetit]

Disney Song! Yuu [Disney Songs Edition: I See the Light- Wait That's Fire]

Ah yes, the princely counterparts to NRC who deserves their time to shine and the opportunity to kidnap the Ramshackle prefect over to their school. A play is held; a prince arrives to the competition; and wars are declared within the walls of RSA.

MASTERLIST

RSA was holding its annual culture festival with the common sense to not invite any NRC students who weren't the Ramshackle prefect after last year's incident - it involved the impossible teamwork of all the dorms; some RSA students scarred and traumatized for life; some other RSA students declaring war on NRC; and a pissed Yuu who whacked all the culprits hard with a broom.

Principal Ambrose, sensing an opportunity, hired Yuu to be in their school's play with Neige in the lead role.

"I'm so excited to be working with you, Yuu!" Neige chirped as the pair walked past several RSA students, the sound of choking and bodies hitting the ground followed the duo as they made their way to the stage.

Yuu grinned, an arm hooked to the shorter boy's as they leaned further in, "Me too, you look great in your costume by the way."

Neige's porcelain skin became crimson in an instant as he shyly answered back, "T-thank you."

Yuu wasn't lying, Neige looked absolutely charming in his male-version of the Snow White costume with a crown on his head to complete the look. Compared to him, Yuu looked like a potato if you asked them.

Neige however, could tell you he was spell-bound the moment he saw Yuu. The Ramshackle prefect wore a stunning purple dress with golden flowery lace decorating the hems.

Colourful flowers were braided into Yuu hair, it made Neige imagined Yuu as a beautiful nymph who graced him with a visit, a dance, and a ring if possible.

Neige blushed heavily at his own thoughts, sparing a glance at Yuu once again before he looked away.

"Come on, the play's starting soon!"

To say the least, Vil wasn't a happy camper the moment Rook recruited him for the so-called 'rescue mission'. He didn't want to see LeBlanche and most of all, he didn't want to see his potato close to LeBlanche of all people.

The mission? Infiltrate RSA to rescue Yuu from the dastardly clutches of Neige and Principal Ambrose.

"Those fake princes! Trying to steal our prefect to their school by looking cool!" Azul hissed.

He quieted down the second Yuu stepped onstage for their part, so did the rest of them as Yuu appeared beneath the dazzling lights.

All those days watching from the windows~

All those years outside looking in~

Vil frowned as the surroundings became a starless sky filled with bright lanterns, crystal waters echoing the beauty of the night replaced the floor and shocked many who expected to fall.

All at once everything looks different~

Now that I see you~

As always the prefect made everything look beautiful- except for that ugly stain known as Neige who was lovingly staring at the prefect as part of his role. The adoration in his eyes made something ugly twist in Vil's stomach.

It looked too genuine to be acting.

The vile feeling strangling his insides grew when Neige started to sing.

All those days chasing down a daydream~

All those years living in a blur~

All that time never truly seeing~

Things, the way they were~

Vil let out a hiss, "They're duetting?!"

Azul broke the pen he was holding, "That sly principal- he's trying to manipulate Yuu using Neige!!"

Riddle didn't spare any sympathy as he stared at the Octavinelle dorm leader, "Don't you do that too?"

"T-that's different!"

And at last I see the light~

And it's like the fog has lifted~

And at last I see the light~

And it's like the sky is new~

"Guys we have a problem!" Ortho whispered, flying towards them with a panicked look, "I stole the play's script and there's a final scene afterwards between Neige and the prefect and- and-"

"IT'S A KISS SCENE!!"

A stone dropped in Vil's gut. No, absolutely not.

"Rook." The cold, poisonous tone in Vil's voice terrified everyone who heard him, "Bring the potato back before they get sullied."

Rook nodded before he disappeared.

And it's warm and real and bright~

And the world has somehow shifted~

All at once everything is different~

Now that I see you~

Neige and Yuu leaned closer as per the script.

Now that I see you-

CRASH!!

The loud destruction interrupted the play as people suddenly ran out from behind the curtains, "FIRE, GET OUT OF THE THEATER, THERE'S A FIRE!!"

Chaos erupted.

Azul and the remaining NRC students stared at a smug Vil, "Did you... plan this beforehand?"

The dorm leader of Pomefiore smiled, "I had Rook test out some of my new experiments."

Neige: ... Beau, we're best friends right?

Beau: Of course! We even had a duet to be brothers-in-all-but-blood :D

Neige: Ok! The thing is, I like the Ramshackle prefect too and I want to court them

Beau: ...

Beau: *threateningly holds up book* Excuse me?

Neige: This is my declaration of war!! :3

#twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst scenarios #disney song yuu #twst neige #twst vil #twst yuu

[missterious-figure]

Quick jot-down of the au! (Kinda)

In Dragon Tale au (23) Moon and (22½) Sun are not related. They are both war-forge sorta things.

Moon has a burning hatred for dragons because the village he was made in was attacked by a very aggressive dragon. Sun, however, is a researcher and loves to study mythical creatures and magic. He especially loves dragons! They may be ferocious killer beasts, but they are rather fascinating! Moon and Sun first met in a small town. Moon was still devastated about losing his home and was drinking at a small bar. Sun had been studying some fire dragons on the outskirts of town. A gaint mountain dragon descended upon the town and started attacking. Moon wasn't gonna let this dragon take the lives of the towns people. At least not without a fight. He battled the dragon valiantly. It didn't look like he was going to win the fight, until he got a helpful tip from Sun, whom had ran into town when he saw the dastardly drake.

Since Sun was such a dragon nerd, he practically knew everything about this mountain dragon, including it's weaknesses. Now knowing how to defend the beast, Moon dispatched it rather quickly. With the town now safe, Moon thanked Sun for the assist. Sun was gonna leave, but Moon asked him if he wanted to team up. And thus the dragon hunting duo was born. With Sun's vast knowledge of drakes, wyverns, and wyrms and Moon's strength, courage, and bravery, the two saved many a village from dread. Word of the dragon slaying robots had reached many ears. Some people even thought that dragons would flee before the duo would arrive to their vicinity.

However, not all dragons were bad. Some just wanted to stay in their caves and not be bothered by pesky humans. Others wished they could stretch their wings for a bit without humans freaking out about it. This was something that Eclipse desperately wanted. He was was barely 26 and he had been cramped in his cave for sooooo long! Eclipse loves to read the books he has in his stash, but those got boring fast. Even the romance novels he so tenderly (and secretly) loves have gotten old. He hasn't seen any other dragons since... his parents disappeared. But he has seen plenty of stupid humans. Too many for his liking. They always come to his cave and try and steal his parents old hoard! Who do they think they are? He hasn't done anything to them! He didn't start this stupid mess. They attacked him first! He was just defending himself. Dumb, idiotic humans. How he longed to have others of his kind. Someone to chat with or cuddle up to on cold nights...

Well, whatever! Maybe someone special will come into his life one day...

#fnaf dca #dca au #dca eclipse #dca moon #dca sun #medieval au #dca medieval au #dragon tale au

[neverchecking]

My coming out.

You have all turned me. This is it. I am officially a Ko*idai simp. You all have won. So for turning me, I offer you as my humble apology for the slander against his name.

A wonderful collab between my lovely and wonderful wife, whom you all should go follow right now >:( @angry-trashcan

Bro, it’s not gay if you say no homo, bro.

Koridai looked down to Dalton, “Golly”

A moment of silence fell around them, heavy and tense. The sweltering heat around them created a sheen of sweat, making their bodies glisten. Brown connected with blue, the fire of passion igniting in the pits of their pupils. A single resolute nod fell between them. “No Homo.”

Dalton and Dante bobbed their heads in agreement.

You looked up to them, watching as their moment continued. Their ga(y)ze was deep into one another’s eyes, too distracted too pay mind to you. Dalton and Dante danced above you, bumping into once another, their sides brushing together with a lingering kiss.

Never once did Courage, nor Ko*idai for that matter, break eye contact. They simply remained, frozen in the moment, encased in the wondrous star maps that laid in the other’s ga(y)ze. Your own eyes darted back down to Dalton and Dante. A part of you wondered if you should be worried about their reddened heads. Another part of you was too over this entire debacle to care. 

All of Courage’s courage couldn’t have prepared him for this. The way Dante would move about, the way Kor*dai’s eyes were boring into him, the way you were watching with a startled expression. Kor*dai didn’t know how to handle this, he didn’t have much adventuring under his belt after all. All he had was Dalton.

Dalton had been a long standing friend. Something familiar to Ko*idai, A friend he had known his entire life. He was more than happy to share this moment with him. Even if it came (heh came) with Courage. Courage and his dastardly sinful ga(y)ze that refused to leave his. It was a game at this point, of who would break first. And Courage would not break. 

He was too courageous. He would watch Kor*dai’s brown eyed ga(y)ze as long as he physically could, which was a long time. He was a well travelled hero afterall, unlike his counterpart. Kor*dai had never been on his own adventure, and, golly was that unfortunate for their staring contest.

Dante wept from the lack of attention, once again returning to pestering jabs at Dalton, just to see the other sway back and forth. Your eyes followed them. Then they returned to the standing duo. A moment passed. A moment where you wondered if Legend was still awake. Or Twilight. They wouldn’t do this to you. 

You watched their staring for a moment longer, wondering, hoping, praying that it would either end or last longer. You weren’t sure which outcome was better for you, honestly. Your hands rested on the side of the too small bed, taking a deep breath and watching the two dancing partners continue their waltz.

You could play their silly game. That was always an option. You could open your eyes all wide and innocent and flutter those pretty lashes. Maybe, if that got no reaction you would even dare utter the single utterance you swore in your life you never would. The no good, vile phrase. But it might’ve just been enough to get what you want. With a breath, you steeled yourself, tucking away your dignity in a trunk before throwing it into the endless abyss of ‘never to be seen again’. Then your lips parted, “Golly.”

Blue and brown did not fall from one another as you muttered the words, though Dalton did add a hard sway to his fateful dance. You could almost feel yourself dry completely at the thought of what you did and to no effect. You slowly pulled your legs to yourself and rolled off the bed. Though no eyes seemed to meet you.

Though Dalton did weep at your absence, you paid it no mind. Though Dante did attempt to stand tall to catch your attention, you still turned away. You had much better things, nay, people to do. You had much better people to do, and this pity fuck had gone from sad to downright desperate. 

Though Dante and Dalton weeped together, they held eachother tall through the loss. The ga(y)zing men continued their ga(y)zing. The thought of you never crossing their minds as their eyes bore into one another’s very soul, very existence. 

You could’ve pretended to sneak out. But it wouldn’t have made a damn lick of a difference. They were too lost in the challenge. Too engaged in each other’s limitless ga(y)ze. Nothing would break this moment between them. Tender and almost intimate one might dare to say. You did not dare. You only tried to recall which room was the Vet’s. 

A hard knock at the door and it swung open, revealing Legend’s very awake face. He dared not to question why you were there, knowing where you had been. Instead only letting you in and locking the door tight behind you.

Not even the repetitive thumping echo of the room beside theirs could break their moment. It remained steadfast and unyielding, even as Dante and Dalton wilted away. Shriveling into themselves in shame. They would remain that way even as the briefest hints of sunrise broke across the room, painting it in an array of yellows and reds. Almost like the reds of Dalton and Dante’s heads last night. 

It seemed nothing could pull the men from one another’s ga(y)ze into the other’s soul. When Legend opened the door the next morning to wake them, they were still staring deep into one anothers. The shock of it almost sent him into a deep ga(y)ze himself. He took off a boot, throwing it in the direction of the men, which somehow startled them out of their trance. Courage looked to the empty bed.

“What did you do with Y/N, you-you- rapscallion?!” Courage barked, stance widening as Dante swung loyally by his side. Legend’s shock turned into a mean and sharp grin. The marks on his neck were welted in your signature color. “Everything. Which part do you wanna hear about?”

“All of it.” Ko*idai began only for Courage to cut him off with a harsh jab. “None of it, is what he meant to say.”

Legend’s grin only grew, “Okay, it started when she came to my room last night. Complaining you two wouldn’t treat her right.” Dalton shrunk ever more into himself at the words. “She would never!” Courage cried out. “Oh, but she did!”

Legend gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “You two ding-dong’s really screwed the pooch there. Lost out on a night I certainly won’t be forgetting anytime soon. But, hey, maybe you can try again. The Golden three know I’m a patient man. I’ll wait for her to come by my room once more.” Collecting his boot, he swatted it at the two, refusing to even spare a glance at Dalton and Dante. “And put some pants on would ya? It’s getting weird.” 

The two watched Legend leave the room, closing the door behind him. Kor*dai looked down at Dalton then Dante, before letting his ga(y)ze go up to Courage’s eyes. “No homo?” He asked. “No homo.” Courage replied.

With a hearty hand clapping to the other’s shoulders, Courage finally grinned. “Rule number one of adventuring? It’s never gay to kiss the homies goodnight. It’s a sign of good faith.” Ko*idai nodded excitedly, bangs flopping about much in the same way Dante did. “Right. Legend just doesn’t understand that. He has no homies.”

“Legend thinks it’s gay to kiss the homies. But we know better.” Courage says, leaning forward and placing a kiss to Kor*dai’s cheek. “Now lets get some pants on, bro. I bet breakfast is ready and I’m warn out from that crazy night we had.”

Ko*idai placed a hand to his cheek, which quickly hued into a soft red. “Golly,” He muttered, foot twirling itself on it’s toes. It was absolutely not gay to kiss the homies and if Legend didn’t see that, he felt bad for that merchant friend of his.  He would kiss his homies and be happy with it. With a wave, he said his goodbyes to Dante and Dalton, knowing he’d see them again soon enough.

Afterall, no one said where the kisses had to be, right?

#Dalton and Dante are their PP's #Now go ahead and re-read that with that knowlegde #linked universe x reader #linked universe #yandere legend of zelda #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #loz #lu koridai #lu koridai x reader #yandere lu koridai #yandere lu koridai x reader #y'all have turned me #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader

[triplehearts]

hello ! do you have any recommendations for desert duo fics by any chance : ) ?

hehe *smiles at you evilly*

Ok I'll be honest, though I lean a lot towards romantic relationships when reading desertduo fics but you didn't specify and I didn't want to jumpscare you, so I tried to pick out some of my faves that are at least ambiguous about it! If that IS your thing however, I'd be happy come up with a part two!!

-

so taut it taunts the song by TheYesterdayShow

Of course. Scar’s in his bed. He’d held onto some strand of hope that maybe Scar had been joking about sleeping together, maybe he’d just been trying to get Grian to go to sleep so he could set out on some dastardly scheme without anyone to hold him back. But Scar’s there, blanket pulled up to his chin, a nightcap (where did he get that?) on his head.

This is the "they shared a bed in 3rd life" fic EVERRR, MY FAVORITE ONE!!! I just love the combo of denial + quiet yearning on Grian's end and Scar's characterization in general, it's a great dynamic.

Untitled fic by @mar-im-o

“Are you not happy here?” “What d’you mean?”

I'm pretty sure I've read every single desertduo fic under the sun posted in the first week of Double Life, but this has still got to be one of my favorites!! Scar confronts Grian about his displeasure of being soulmates and they talk. I never get tired of these fics, back when everyone was banking on them having a happy ending KJHFKDSJH

Untitled fic by @chekhovvs

The first time Scar dies, Grian places his hands on his throat and looks him in the eyes, and for one terrible second Scar wants to–  He wants– 

Angsty as hell but I LOVE it when ppl talk about their relationship as a whole through each season and how strained it's become!! The way this was written bc of the realization that Scar dies further and further away from Grian (as of DL) drives me CRAZYYY.

-

Hopefully one of these is your cup of tea, sorry they're all life series with varying degrees of angst, they're the only flavors I bothered to save apparently!! If you like scarian though... *bats eyes innocently*

#me excitedly looking at my bookmarks and realizing they're all scarian... embarassing KJDHSFKJD #ok ACTUALLY though if someone would like to uno reverse and recommend ME some platonic desertduo-centric fics i'd love that!! #asks

[leilanising-vault-of-knowledge]

MasterPost:

Profile:

Hewo. I am artist. I will answer really any asks sent to me, lol. Feel free to ask questions for my turtles too, lol. I also do art requests, but I'm still a learning artist, so plz don't expect perfection

Please refrain from using swear words or NSFW rated stuff, thx!

Tmnt AUs:

"Its a Complicated Equation" AU:

Reference Sheet

"Apocalypse" AU: (ref around half way done)

"ColorSwitch" AU:

"SkillSwap" AU:

"The Dastardly Duo AU:

AU Idea

Tags

If you are looking for any specific things, try putting in tags for them. I only usually tag my art, lol. So it shouldn't pull up any reblogs. Though I'm going to try and work on tagging my art with "my art", lol

#masterpost #Profile #tags #Tmnt AUs

[witherburn-news-transcripts]

Episode 1: Hello Witherburn

Witherburn

A little town tucked between the mountains and the swamps. It’s a town full of unsung heroes and dastardly villains. It has its surprises and its secrets. But luckily I’m here to unveil them all. Welcome listeners to the new home of Witherburn After School News.

I’m The Reporter and I hope you liked that little intro there. I figured I should zhuzh it up since we are radio news now.

And this leads me to our first announcement. As some of you may know, the paper version was discontinued because a certain local officer and principal duo kept destroying the pamphlets. Luckily, your knowledgeable host figured out a way to broadcast a radio version of our program. Maybe now our little program will reach people outside of Witherburn as well. Though I’m not sure people will find our town that interesting.

With that introduction out of the way, here’s an overview of our program. The top stories today are about Scarlett Johnson’s campaign for prom queen despite it being August, the rumors that the Clark Family are trying to buy Farrow Bait and Tackle, the lastest information about the string of missing girls, and what exactly Mr. Pickler was shouting in the Spanish Moss Diner yesterday afternoon. All of that and more, coming up on Witherburn After School News.

Let’s start off simple with our first story. Scarlett Johnson is already campaigning for prom queen despite it only being a week into the school year. She’s running with her boyfriend football star, Bo Stoker, who seems to be supportive of his girlfriend’s efforts, but a little birdie told me he wasn’t quite as excited as she was. He was overheard talking to the other football boys in the hall saying, and I quote, “I mean she can do whatever she wants but I don’t want her to drag me into this. Prom king just isn’t really my style, you know?” Uh oh. Looks like there’s trouble in Paradise.

To add to this already ludicrous campaign, her posters are making wild claims such as: “If she’s prom queen, she’ll make the yearly bonfire ten times cooler.” And “Ban homework on senior skip day.”

Is.. Is she even allowed to make those claims? Like, we all know she can’t actually do those things, right? Though it’s a little early to tell, Scarlett will probably have some competition later on in the year with Tina Young, captain of the tennis team. In fact, I’ve been informed Tina’s friends are encouraging her to announce her prom queen campaign as well. In order to cambatant Scarlett’s early efforts. See, Tina doesn’t have the lifelong passion to win like Scarlett, but she possibly has the numbers. Okay, I have to be honest, listeners, I think that prom queen is a title that’s hyped up just a little bit too much. No one cares that you were prom queen after high school and making this serious deal out of campaigning just takes the fun out of it, you know? Maybe I just don’t get it.. I’ve never been that into school events anyways, so what do I know?

Oh! Actually that reminds me of one thing I do know, and that’s the fact that Mr. Smith lost his cat, Butters, earlier in the week. So if you happen to see a black cat with what looks like white socks on his feet, then try your best to call the cat over. And if you manage to do that, please tell me your secrets on how you got a cat to listen to you. If you manage to get a hold of Butters then please return him to the blue house on Pine Falls Drive.

It’s official. The Clarks are trying to buy up yet another local business. Yes the rumors are true. The Clarks are trying to buy up Farrow’s Bait and Tackle. So the old ladies that congregate on Mrs. Newbury’s porch were right. Yet again. But to be fair, what other reason do the Clarks have for going into the tackle shop three times in one week. I certainly know it wasn’t to buy fishing gear. Mr. Farrow confirmed the Clarks are trying to buy his store earlier today when he was questioned by some of his usual customers. According to him, the Clarks were willing to pay him up to a quarter of a million dollars for his store. Which, man, really shows you how much money these people have. But he says he will not let the Clarks buy yet another family business. I think that’s wonderful. Honestly I’m very glad someone is standing up to the Clarks and who is better than Mr. Farrow himself? His family has run that shop for three generations and almost everyone in town in his local customer so I think he will have no problems fending off the Clarks. In fact I would like to suggest that we as a town come together and make some purchases from his store as a show of support. Instead of ordering that new fishing rod online, get it from Mr. Farrow. Go get that lure you’ve been eying. Maybe even get some bait and take your family out on a fishing trip. Go support the tackle shop because I know I will.

Speaking of the Clarks, did you know that they’re a major reason that we had to stop our paper version? Many of our long time readers will know that we never spoke too kindly about the Clark Family. Especially since they keep trying to buy every small business in town and because their son keeps harassing people and getting off scot-free, but that’s a story for another day. A certain Brenda Clark didn’t like what we wrote. She’s a vicious PTA president and she, of course, has Sheriff Sinanger in her back pocket. Since we mostly distribute our paper at school and the local library, well, let’s just say it didn’t take long for our copies to be taken down.

People like her are why I have to report in secret. Who knows what she’d do if she found out who runs this thing? I mean I know some people call the after school news a “gossip column” and that’s why people think I hide my identity but I’m reporting actual news stories. I may not talk about stories that would make it onto the local tv station, but it’s news that still matters to people and it’s news that affects us and- oh who am I kidding? I’m probably preaching to the choir if you’re still listening to this.

Before we move on to our next story I do have an announcement to make. The local library is once again hosting its annual back to school read-a-thon for children kindergarten through 6th grade. This years book recommendations from the library are Wishing on the Well by Elaine Letters, Can It Wait? by Oswell Morrison, Easy Peasy by Taira Oakland, What If I Was A Princess by Isabelle Turner, Hungry Dragonfly by Ethan Randall, and Brand New Kid by Unique Ryan Newton. These are just suggestions though and kids can check out any books they want. The children that have read the most books by the end of the month get a special prize and I may or may not have heard from the librarian that it’s a pizza party. Happy back-to-school times for all those kids out there and good luck at your read-a-thon.

A few of you will be very excited to know that I have decided to bring back an old favorite from our paper edition. It’s the monster of the week segment, brought to you by Mr. Pickler. The segment where we try to find the exact type of monster Mr. Pickler claims to have seen. Yesterday he was screaming in the Spanish Moss Dinner and no one could quite understand what he was saying, but a little birdie recorded the encounter and sent it to me. Take a look at this.

“There was an ape in that swamp! I’m tellin’ y’all! I could smell it from a mile away! It smelled like.. like rotten moss and death! While I was out there I just knew something was watchin’ me, but I couldn’t be sure until I saw him, up in the trees! I went right up under him in my boat and let me tell y’all, I was shakin’! And then, when I was right there close enough he could’ve grabbed me, he let out this giant roar that would’ve scared the devil! And then, he just swung away. He must’ve jumped at least twenty feet! I’m tellin’ y’all! You gotta believe me! I saw something out there!”

“Mr. Pickler, you’re scaring the guests. Let’s get you home.”

“They need to know! Don’t go in that swamp!”

Isn’t that interesting? After a bit of research, I have come to the conclusion the creature Mr. Pickler is describing is the skunk ape. A scary run-in, indeed. It is a creature of southern folklore that is native to Alabama, Georgia, and most notably, Florida. It’s official sightings have only dated back to the 1960’s, though rumors and folktales about similar creatures go back as far as the 1800’s. The skunk ape is a bigfoot like swamp monster that, true to its name, has a rather foul smell. It’s known to roam around in the swamp muck and on occasion will swing from the trees. It’s described as being seven feet tall with long shaggy hair that is brown or black and some reports say that moss will grow on its fur. They’re also known to have red glowing eyes that can be seen through the dark tree lines. Though myths vary, the skunk apes have been known to stalk fisherman, such as Mr. Pickler, and raid food storages, though there aren’t many reports of them actually attacking. Luckily for us, and Mr. Pickler, the national park service says that this creature… is a complete hoax. The most likely explanation is that Mr. Pickler saw a black bear up in the trees and that smell was methane being released by the swamp. Though, who knows? Maybe there is a skunk ape out there. I would like to thank Mr. Pickler for bringing us today’s segment of Monster of the Week. If you want me to talk about a monster then all you gotta do is tell everyone in the Spanish Moss Diner that “you saw something in that swamp”. Alternatively, screaming about what you saw in the convenient store parking lot will also work.

Now listeners, I hate to stop the lighthearted segments here, but our main story is much more serious. I am sure you’ve all been keeping up with the missing girls. So far the missing are:

Christie Lamar, 14 years old, white, 5’6 with short brown hair, last seen wearing a green hoodie and ripped jeans

Aria Sanders, 16 years old, black, 5’3 with braids, last seen in a blue sundress

and April Calloway, 15 years old, white, 5’7 with curly black hair, last seen in her horse riding uniform.

All of these girls went missing these last four months and if you have any information on them, then please don’t hesitate to call the authorities.

Though today’s story is specifically about April Calloway, the latest of the missing girls, who’s been gone for a little over a month now and authorities are losing hope of finding her. Margaret Calloway, April’s mother, has been seen all around town handing out and hanging up missing persons flyers. Ms. Calloway has made numerous claims about the police department not doing enough in the search for her daughter or any of the missing girls. This is what Sheriff Sinanger had to say about it:

“We understand that these are hard times for many people in our community, but I promise y’all that we are doin’ our best to find these girls and that it is the number one priority of the police department. Ms. Calloway has every right to be anxious about her daughter bein’ missin’ but these claims that we aren’t doin’ enough are simply false. Many in the department have spent sleepless nights going over the evidence and we are followin’ numerous leads while we try to figure out what’s happened to each of these girls. To be brutally honest, claims like these actually slow down the investigative process.”

The sheriff also made statements about how it seems likely that these were simply copycat runaways.

“Often when one teen does something, like run away, they’ll send messages to friends to make it seem like it’s an attractive and exciting thing to do. This can lead to a string of copycat runaways and that is what happened to all those girls. There is no evidence of foul play. But just because they are runaways doesn’t mean we’re gonna take their cases any less seriously.”

Ms. Calloway has said numerous times that she doesn’t believe her daughter ran away. According to her, April told her everything and never said anything that would make her think she wanted to run away. She also stated how her daughter barely knew the other missing girls so this idea that they were texting April’s trying to convince her to run away doesn’t make any sense to her. She made a statement on Facebook about how she wasn’t trying to slow down the investigation, but she just wanted her daughter back. A couple of the other families have said they are sympathetic towards Ms. Calloway but they made no comments on the investigation. Now Ms. Calloway is facing backlash over these comments with someone even going as far as to egg her house. Now, listeners, I assume you all understand what’s wrong with this. Why are you judging a mother that simply wants to find her child? Even if you don’t agree with her statements, I would hope this town had enough sympathy not to destroy her house. But apparently I’m wrong.

Even after the backlash, Ms. Calloway is not backing down from her statements and is doing everything she can to find her daughter even if it means doing it on her own. If this story has inspired you to help, then I will gladly direct you to Maisie, owner of the Bog Monster Bar, who has set up a donation fund to help families of the missing. She’s also set up a meal delivery signup for families as well if that’s more your style.

I’m gonna wrap it up here Witherburn. I know it’s a sad note to leave us on, But I simply don’t have any more news for you. If you take anything away from this, I hope it’s that we as a town should be coming together, not falling apart. Thank you all for listening to the first episode of After School News and don’t forget to tune in next week. I’m The Reporter, signing off.

Witherburn After School News is written and directed by Jordan Oliver. It is edited by Francis Hughes. The Reporter is played by Jordan Oliver. Sheriff Sinanger is played by James Dunn. And Mr. Pickler is played by Will Carter. The wonderful title song is made by Future Me. We hope you enjoyed this episode and we hope you join us next time.

#witherburn after school news #wbasn #podcast #podcast transcript #episode one #mystery #fictional podcast #Bigfoot #skunk ape #witherburn

[blowflyfag]

Pro Wrestling Illustrated: 1995 THE YEAR IN WRESTLING. March 1996

MANAGER OF THE YEAR: JIM CORNETTE 25,762 votes

It really wasn’t a strong year for managers this year. Many of our readers lamented that for this award, they have a very weak crop from which to choose. Nevertheless, Jim Cornette was able to distinguish himself sufficiently to capture Manager of the Year honors for the third time.

“I never could stand him or his methods,” wrote Bobby Zlada of Louisville, Kentucky, “but once again, you can’t argue with his success.”

For Cornette, it was a year in which he pulled several surprises. It was his decision to  team Yokozuna with Owen Hart. That unlikely duo defeated The Smokin’ Gunns at WrestleMania XI and captured the WWF World tag team title. Despite the rumors that Yoko and Owen were going to split up, the “Louisville Lip” kept them together, and he even managed to get Yokozuna some World title shots after he and Owen lost the belts in October.

Cornette convinced Davey Boy Smith that it would be in Smith’s best interest to become a rulebreaker. That advice earned Cornette another helping of hatred, but it did in fact move the Englishman dramatically closer to the WWF World belt.

“Jimmy has a sense of knowing when to make the right move,” said Dennis Condrey, who was once a part of Cornette’s famed Midnight Express. “He zigs when folks think he should zag, and usually he proves everybody wrong.”

{Perhaps the biggest surprise of all came when Cornette announced, late in 1994, that he would manage his long-time enemies. The Rock ‘n’ Roll Express. Somehow, some way, both parties put aside their monumental differences and formed a solid partnership, one that earned the Rock ‘n’ Rolls the Smoky Mountain tag belts.

By summer, however, Cornette was back to his rulebreaking ways in SMW again, as he led his Heavenly Bodies to both the Smoky Mountain and USWA tag team titles in a span of three days, a feat that severed to confirm his reputation as one of the greatest tag team managers ever. On the down side, he made himself look like a fool–again–when he began calling himself “General for the purpose of organizing his SMW Militia, a dastardly crew that includes Tommy Rich, Terry Gordy (the current SMW champ), and The Punisher.

He’s no military man, but he is a winner, whether you like it or not. 

RUNNERS-UP

SHERRI MARTEL: 12,910 votes

First runner-up: By leading Harlem Heat to a fourth WCW World tag team title, Martel quieted any doubts about her managerial prowess. She does tend to interfere too much, but what rule breaking manager doesn’t? But you know what? She may have had an ever greeted year had she not spent so much time fawning over fellow manager Col. Robert Parker.

COL. ROBERT PARKER: 10,974 votes

Second runner-up: For the second year in a row, the cigar-chomping braggart has captured the number-three spot in the voting. Parker’s a big talker, but he gets results: He led Bunkhouse Buck and Dick Slater to an upset World tag title victory over Harlem Heat, gave Meng new purpose for a while, and signed Japanese sensation Kurasawa.

WOMAN: 7,203 votes

Third runner-up: Woman manages only one wrestler, The Sandman, but he was champion of the tough ECW for six months after defeating Shane Douglas last March, and that is an amazing feat in itself. She is more helpful to Sandman behind the scenes than she is at ringside, where she can be just as sadistic as any male in the federation. 

VOTES FOR OTHERS (15,648)

Some of the top vote-getters who did not capture a runner-up spot include: Paul Bearer, Paul E. Dangerously, Ted DiBiase, Jimmy Hart, Kevin Sullivan, Sunny, and Harvey Wippleman.

#jim cornette #magazine scan #magazine transcript #pwi #pro wrestling illustrated #wwf #smokey mountain wrestling #world wrestling federation

[sanoism]

When there’s no present money could not already buy during the rest of the year, Christmas is little else than an excuse to throw a party, caring less for the meaning behind the holiday and more for the celebration itself… and an excuse to play a prank on his coworkers. 

“There.” From where Ran and Mikey sit close together and away from the other executives, Ran’s finger points at a specific place: on the hinge of the open door leading to the balcony, where Rindou and Takeomi are talking about something unintelligible from the music playing loud enough to drown their voices. Directly above them hangs a mistletoe that would’ve been innocent if not for the strategic way it’d been placed the night before by none other than Ran himself, just like the rest of the hidden, but not overtly obvious, mistletoes all around the room.

He grins knowingly at Mikey, then points at the other end of the room, where Mocchi had been quicker to notice the little red pest over his and Koko’s heads, judging by the way his mouth pulls back into a full scowl. He looks around, looking for the culprit no doubt (there’s no such thing as a coincidence with these people), so Ran ducks his head into Mikey’s shoulder to hide his chuckle.

“Who do you think will cave in first? Maybe if we apply a bit of peer pressure… Tradition is tradition, after all.”

(And if Mikey chooses to look up, he'll see another mistletoe hanging above their own heads tooㅤ──ㅤno such thing as a coincidence, indeed.)

Curious dark eyes follow the direction Ran points to as he sees the mistletoe hanging oh so innocently above the unsuspecting pairs. A sharp exhale of air is all that betrays his humored mood, easy to miss to one who knew him less. Luckily, the witness today is far more familiar then then the common man.

Mikey plays with the strands of hair close to Ran's nape as he indulges in his husband's chuckles against his shoulder. It's therapeutic almost as he smooths it, leaning closer to Ran's ear, Mikey whispers to keep their secret even as the music conspired alongside the duo of this dastardly deed.

" Takeomi might do anything if he's drunk enough, but I think Koko would want to get us off his back first. " He wonders, is there a little gift above them as well. Glancing upwards, there hangs innocently exactly what he suspected. Cupping Ran's face he places three successive kisses upon his lips, one for each mistletoe. Maybe it's a little twist on tradition, but who will object?

" ─ but I guess I lost first this time. " contrary to his words, he feels quite certain he's won.

#ic. — everyone let’s do this ! #verse iii. — i am carved out all hollow bones and guts / bonten verse. #ashrifts #T HANK UUU FOR THIS CUTE CHRISTMAS ASk

[somediyprojects]

Hare Apparent stitched by Vicky. Pattern (£8.10) designed by Julia Line of Long Dog Samplers.

Life seems so full of politics these days. Wherever you look there's underhand machinations, dastardly plots, conspiracies and devious manoeuvers going on. Castle Long Dog is a hotbed of such intrigue and down every dark, cobwebby corridor, even up some foetid back passages, the young ravens continually jostle for power and preferment.

The "Hare" duo of samplers hark back to the dark winter of 1763 and commemorate the terrible conflict that took place between two rival "droves" of Leporidae (that's hares to you and me) who both believed that they had a legitimate claim to the demesne around the Castle. Monumental and famous was this smooth pelted power struggle and it gave rise to the saying "they came in their droves", so huge were the numbers of long eared, bewhiskered rioters who rocked up wanting to step into the ring and box.

The sampler you see today is Vicky's sensitive interpretation of the mood that prevailed during that tempestuous time. Unfortunately, our Vicky seems to have backed the loser on this occasion as Hare Presumptive eventually had to concede defeat when Hare Apparent became the winner.

But all that was long ago in the dim and distant past. Now Quill, and his Chancellor, The Great Colin, rule the roost here with threats, bribes and Stingo and even though the young ravenlets plot and squabble they'll need to sprout a few more feathers on their chests before they get one over on our current cunning incumbent. Quill looks set to reign forever.

—Julia Line, designer

#cross stitch #inspo #x #long dog samplers

[skippyv20]

Last one, I think the dastardly duo played fast and loose with Charles. I don't think he saw this coming, not that it's any excuse. People need to look at their past misconduct. Recall that when they couldn't get their own way fast enough, they pulled the stunt of announcing their leaving royal duties with their list of demands? This reminds of that desperate move. Meghan is behind this. Why now? Why what until 6 months after the late Queen's death if it was always legal?

If so many of us knew why the BRF would be dealing with…from the beginning….the question is…why has all of this been allowed to happen at all….🐼

[celticcrossanon]

Question: How long will Charles reign as king?

Great to have you back doing readings!

Most annoying, but I have a different way of interpreting the tarot, and it does not include ‘reversed cards’. The meaning, from the many different meanings, depends on the surrounding cards and the position.

With this layout, at a cursory glance, your interpretation comes through clearly, even though I do not interpret cards differently as reversed. As a tarot reader, the message of these cards is so clear and completely aligns with your interpretation. (Basically, no matter what system we use, the cards have the same energy, and we all bring personal bias to every reading. )

The cards seem to indicate that he will be crowned, and it will be a very happy celebration. But, yes, wearing the crown becomes too much of a burden and he walks away, passing the baton to his son.

So much upheaval for that family!

On a different note, the dastardly duo were papped going to dinner at an exclusive restaurant. She has lost weight and is not pregnant, despite my 'guess’ that she would be. But, not only no holding hands, but also not even walking in to the restaurant and to the table together.  I may be wrong, but my readings never show a separation or break up for the duo, but for a long while has shown them pursuing separate paths as far as PR and work is concerned. Am I wrong? She did not even appear on the video for that award they gave recently.

*

Hi JustSdv,

Yes, it looks like a lot of upheaval for the BRF, both in the recent past and in the future. They have two major deaths to mourn as well as the Coronation and whatever happens to King Charles in the future. They say the death of a loved one is one of the three most stressful events in a life (the other two are divorce and moving house) and you are supposed to take it easy for at least a year afterwards while you process the grief for the first time (no major decisions). It’s very sad that the BRF do not have that opportunity.

I am glad the energy of the cards came through so clearly for you. It was very strong for me. It basically hit me in the face as soon as I put the cards down, unlike some readings where I have to wait and focus and it comes slowly.

I don’t know what is happening with the Harkles and their marriage. I think it is clear that they are not in love and their brands do seem to be separating. I don’t know how long they will stay together or what is holding them together. The energy switches around all the time - yes they are divorcing, no they are hanging on for a bit longer, one of them tried to walk away and the other one pulled them back in, etc. It’s exhausting to keep up with it, so I don’t bother anymore. It will happen when it happens and I am quite happy to be taken by surprise if and when it does. 

I think there are a lot of different energies tied up in their marriage, and when you read on it you tap into one of the energy threads, which is why there are so many differing answers on this by different readers. Events as life unfolds will change the outcome as well, as always.

I think that at the moment they are living pretty separate lives but are staying together for some reason, so you are spot on there.

[primitiveside]

They didn't bother to take off his goggles when they strung him up on chains. They were too eager to punish and divide the duo dismantling little pieces of Umbrella's operations. Beatings blotted his skin like storm clouds. The tips of his boots dangling a hair's width from touching the floor.

"Too bad I couldn't have you like this in better circumstances. We could have both enjoyed this." @umbrellamedic says as Riddick's bindings go loose.

He comes down on his boots with all that mass. Chains clanging hard on the floor. A deep, furrow-stricken brow has been set since her appearance. Riddick looks up from his shackles with it. No witty rejoinder, no dry comeback. His perpetual pouty frown quiet in its uncertainty.

The disembodied voice darkened in irritation: Who do you think you are?

"This guy talks too much," Riddick rumbled. The scoundrel, revived by his sense of getting even, looking worthy of all the trouble as a dribble of red pooled into his cupid's bow while he but smiled. A dastardly, subtle promise of revenge to come.

"Let's change that."

The arriving reinforcements are another obstacle to be bested. Simply in the way of shipping ledgers they are after. Priority number two, newly added: find that chatterbox fucker and kill him.

The pointmen, entering first, have their orders to preserve the specimen if possible. Riddick has his own code to abide by, to their misfortune, which preserves the self above all else. The medic could handle herself, she's proven it in bloodshed and staying alive. And if ever she couldn't keep up, Riddick had promised to leave her behind to her fate. This fight, this time, he checks in to see that she's not getting overwhelmed. He owes her, and she is paid in the silent shifted phase of their tentative partnership; in this modicum of attentiveness to her safety.

#umbrellamedic #until the lights burn out? until you can't see what's eating you? 「 resident evil verse 」 #riddick's character weakness: not know what do to even the most basic human decency but especially choosing danger to help him out #she's scrambled his brains in one move so now ... just know their work is suddenly much more simpatico #and much less like riddick is doing a mission solo and if bertha is also still there by the end that's cool #just felt like it needed a response......u understand

[stormbreaker101]

Wiztober Day 19: For Better or Worse - What should have been a simple recon mission and fetch quest quickly spiraled out of control, for better and worse.

This fic was made in collaboration with @klaraflamez! It takes place in her Wizard101 postcanon/rewrite, the Cleaved AU. Things aren't quite as they seem in this Spiral...

Content warnings: multiple instances of swear words (so it's not PG-13), and both canon-typical and canon-atypical violence.

If you want to read the fic with font variation for flavor (and maybe a secret or two in between the lines :3), here's the fic in its original format.

Word Count: 7866

It was supposed to be a pretty simple quest. Sneak into a heavily secured Schismist fort in the middle of the day, take the blueprints for an incredibly dangerous machine they’ve got, and hightail it out of there. No harm, no foul, no need to use that license to kill they gave him.

Unfortunately for Flare Rouge and Jane Doe, the young Wizard that (for better and worse) the Arcanum assigned to him to watch over, the fort was in a world that nobody had a key for. The elusive and fascinating Novus, a world said to only be about 25 years old, a world that didn’t exist in Flare’s original spiral! What a joy would that be to see! 

Alas, getting there was another story.

And it still is another story. Sorry Flare, I know you and Jane probably have a ton of good memories you want written out, spending so long adventuring. But there’s a lot to get through.

Moo Bu was fantastic company on the long trip from the Jade Palace to Catmandu, over which hung one of Novus’s shards. He had a thousand stories to pass the time, open ears for Jane and Flare to share their stories with as well, and many a wisdom to dispense. Moo dispensed his final wisdom as their journey split (him up the scarlet Stone of Heaven, and them to Conatus, where the fort stood): “Be careful dealing with the people in charge there. The governors are egoists first, leaders a distant second. And your… Arcanum also sound like bigshots. Do not let them use you.”

Flare nodded slowly. “Thanks, but we’ve got this.” He didn’t like the implication that Moo was hinting at, but there wasn’t time to argue. Jane was already rushing to the pale blue leyline gate. “JANE! WAIT UP!”

“WE DON’T HAVE TIME TO WAIT!” Jane shouted back. Then to Moo Bu she hollered, “BYE! THANKS FOR EVERYTHING!” before disappearing through the gate.

Flare rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hold back a laugh. Ms Whisperwind had warned Flare that Jane was flighty as a pup and needed overseeing. Jane’s impulse and determination were why Flare enjoyed questing with her. Sure, she was his responsibility and 10 years his junior, but she was also a friend. They both ran at a million miles an hour and often ran together, an unstoppable duo of Sorcerers! He hurried after her, zipping through the leyline gate.

~

Conatus sprawled out in front of Flare and Jane, a sight unlike anything the two had seen before. Stone cliffs wide, smoothed, curved, and jutting out like way too many fingers on a pair of palms. Soft white loamy sands down below. A massive indigo waterfall from what almost looked like an eye, tumbling into a massive waving lake. Many tents, gardens, markets, and camps for the other five nations that Novus’s shards hung over. Karamelle, Marleybone, Polaris, Monquista, and Valencia. 

Notably, there was no Schismist fort to be seen, but that only made sense. Why would a secretive cult have a major base of operations where everyone could see? It’s a good thing the Arcanum provided Flare and Jane with some particularly convenient maps: of Conatus, and of the base’s interiors, including the location of the Schismists’ lab, where the dastardly plans lay.

Jane opened the map of Conatus up, and Flare peeked over her shoulder. “There’s no way we can go through the main entrance,” she said, pointing at the entrance marked on the map. “Even with the Arcanum promising to keep the Schismists’ attention, we’d be spotted super easy by whoever stayed behind. Is there some side entrance we can go through?”

“Yep, they’ve got that animal sanctuary,” Flare said. He took out the other map and laid it out on the floor. “Thing is, that’s pretty darn far away from the lab. We might get caught the longer we stay and move around.”

“C’mon, we can do it! I’ve got experience sneaking about back when I was a pirate. And you can… well…” Jane’s train of thought trailed off. Flare was not stealthy in the slightest.

“I could polymorph into a ninja pig-” Flare spitballed.

Jane snort-laughed at the idea. “YES.”

Flare laughed as we,,. “Pogchamp! That’s our plan!”

“More like pigchamp?”

“YES!” Flare cheered. He gathered the map and hopped up to his feet. “I’ve trained ya well in the art of the pun. Now, let’s get going.”

~

The two of them made their way down to the sanctuary entrance, tucked between some cliff walls that at a distance looked like one surface. Flare put his hand against the door and made a portal to the other side. Portals were one of the magics that he had carried from his home, outside every Spiral, and thus were a tad shakier to use here. (This Spiral seems to resist every magic that isn’t its own.) 

Even riskier still to try and make a portal to a place he had never set foot into. The furthest Flare could trust his portals into unknown territory was a few feet. In other words, safely past this wall but not more.

Jane put on her mask and helmet. The portal opened. Flare polymorphed. The two hopped through. The portal closed behind them.

For better and worse, they’re in.

Jane scurried to the shadowed edges of the sanctuary, and Flare hustled up a tree with newfound ninja agility. A peculiar mustache-bird of some kind flew up to Flare. Flare fought back the mounting panic of him being discovered already. It’s just a harmless bird. Not an enemy. He held out a hoof to gently pat the bird. There’s a good birdie. Calm. Friend, he thought at it. He also decided to spare a moment to magically *Check what the bird was, get some more information.

A 2D textbox appeared in front of Flare, with a splash of flavortext explaining the little creature. [Follicle Falcon (Star-Balance, rank 21 Elite): Native to the Stone of Heaven. Well known as therapy pets for their Empathic Abilities.]

So thinking at ya was the right call, Flare realized. There’s a good bird. Kinda wish I could adopt one of y’all from these guys… You deserve better than being raised by cultists, y’know?

In the meantime, Jane had made her way across the sanctuary to the door without any of the other creatures spotting her. Got the door open! Lockpicks :> she Whispered to Flare.

Perfect. Flare crept through the tree cover and climbed on the sanctuary walls, making his way over. I’ll go in first in case anybody’s right inside. Maybe they’ll miss me slipping into the rafters or something.

Jane gave a thumbs up.

Flare nudged the door open and swung inside. The room was thankfully empty, and also a bedroom? Furnished and decorated, with Life motifs everywhere. A fuzzy moss-looking carpet, a soft bed nested in bookshelves, walls lined with various supplies that Flare couldn’t investigate too closely, and a closed wardrobe. Not what he was expecting, but then again… what had he been expecting in the first place? He hadn’t really come into this plan with… any preconceived notions on what a violent apocalyptic cult’s base would look like. He wasn’t one for judging someone based off how others portrayed them, a trait that had caused him to butt heads with this Spiral’s Arcanum many times. Always considering the other perspective, never taking something as face value, save for the Arcanum itself. Because he knew the Arcanum from his own Spiral. But all this debate he got into for his differing views was all in good faith, right? A compromise could be reached eventually. Besides, if they were truly evil, he’d be able to see it for himself.

Maybe the Schismist’s base would show its true colors outside of what was obviously a personal bedroom.

Room’s empty. We’re clear, Flare Whispered to Jane.

Jane stepped in and paid little heed to the room’s decor, heading straight to the other door. She tested the doorknob- it was already unlocked. Hey, weird question, does this feel too… easy for you? she asked.

Not yet, Flare admitted. We’re only two rooms in. It’ll probably ramp up the further we go in. Leah’s not the kind of person to just throw us in the deep end immediately, he reasoned to himself. The story needs time to build, right?

Right.

Jane nodded and opened the door to the halls. She slipped behind a potted plant by the door and Flare climbed up into the rafters above the hanging lights. The floors were lined with neat runner-rugs, a very pleasing blue and purple palette that reminded Flare of his favorite sweater, and distinctly not the dark malachite green and gold normally associated with the Schismists.

The Arcanum had warned that the Schismists were fickle foes. Changing their name and their faces, but carrying the same dangerous ideologies across the ages. They’ve supposedly done it before, posing as the otherwise noble-intentioned Chronomancers in maroon and white in Mirage maintaining the Sands of Time, or the Dark Cloud Agents in grey and purple and silver harassing the Nimbari of Empyrea. Of course they’d do it again, especially after the Wizard had lain waste to those Schismist offshoots 25-odd years ago. This particular chapter of the Schismists, at the heart of Novus, called themselves the Astral Alliance.

Flare and Jane snuck their way through the fort. It was suspiciously quiet. The two of the only caught sight of some folks hanging out in what looked like a library similar to the Arcanum’s Repository, and a lemur-person checking on the sleeping Rainbow Eucalyptus tree planted down the way.

A door opened right underneath Flare! An impossibly tall moose-person stepped through the doorway, speaking to someone inside the room he had just come from: “All we can do is hope, Chancellor.”

Flare held his breath. Leah, don’t leave me hanging. Please. 

The moose’s ear twitched. He hesitated for a moment, hand to his muzzle, then straightened up with a snap of his fingers. “Er, actually, I remembered one last thing on my mind,” he said. “If I may.”

“Oh?” responded this Chancellor figure from inside. “What is it now, Manti?”

“That newest recruit-” Manti closed the door, muting the conversation too quiet for Flare to hear.

THAT WAS WAY TOO CLOSE, Jane screamed in the Whisper.

Flare nodded. We got real lucky. Anyway, next door over is the lab. Jane’s earlier comment about this quest being too easy rang in his mind again. That was so close to leading to a disaster! Had this Manti fellow heard him? Did he think it was just the wind? Did he- god forbid- know? Leah, please. Prove my worst panicking wrong. Save us. Help.

No, no there’s no way Manti knew. If he knew Flare was sneaking around, surely he would’ve sounded an alarm of some kind! Or made ANY sort of move, an attack or a word of acknowledgement like ‘I know you’re there. You came far but now you’re found out. You made a mistake coming here’ or some other archetypical monologue! He wouldn’t just know and say nothing about it.

Of course. Right. Yeah, we’re in the clear. Thanks.

Flare was overthinking.

Oh, come on, you didn’t have to say that.

Jane came out of her hiding spot and tried to pick the lab door open. However, none of her picks seemed to work. “Stupid- dammit- C’mon- Why are you harder- than the fucking outside door- you bastard-” she cursed under her breath, getting more agitated with each repeat attempt. This lock must’ve been enchanted, or just more heavy duty. Flare I think we might just need a portal past this son of a bitch.

Flare dropped down from the rafters and unpolymorphed. One portal past this son of a bitch coming right up, he Whispered back, echoing the vulgarities back because sometimes you just have to call a door a son of a bitch. Hand to the door, he tried to project a portal just barely past the door. No more than… six inches in. That’d still be well in the doorway and thus well without the odds of portaling into some furniture.

The two stepped in, expecting to be the only ones inside.

Instead, there was a hippocampus girl inside, wearing a true Schismist uniform of green and gold, and holding a batch of blueprints in her arms. “Arcanum,” she hissed upon seeing the two.

Flare closed the portal. 

“Hey bastard!” Jane jeered. “You’ve got something that we can’t letcha have!”

“These plans don’t belong to you.” The stranger backed up towards the open window on the back wall.

“We have to take them, for the sake of the Spiral!” Flare countered, stepping forward. If she dared to fly out that window, he could chase after her.

“You know nothing about the matters you’re meddling with,” the woman spat, “nor any understanding about what the Spiral needs!”

Flare dismissed the stranger’s words, and *Checked her. Mercy was rarely an option in the Spiral, and it was painfully obvious to Flare that there was no choice but to defeat and collect here, and he’d like to know what kind of enemy she was before jumping into a fight. [Shrub (Star, Rank 20 Elite) - the Old One’s daughter. Schismist like him. Raised to be a prodigy Wizard. Dangerous.]

A Wizards’ duel circle sprung up at his feet. The circle pulled Shrub in, and then Jane joined Flare. Jane noticed the textbox in front of Flare. “What’sit say?”

“Star school… which could mean just about anything,” Flare answered. “And she’s the Old One’s daughter too. Whoever that is.”

“Ah, so she’s geezer the second.”

Shrub was visibly taken aback, insulted even. But she said nothing more.

Both sides wanted this fight to end quick. The longer they stayed, the more chance there was that someone would come in and discover them. Unfortunately, Flare and Jane made a dynamic duo with him as support to her offense, and Shrub was a pesky foe with all of the worst utility a foe with Myth and Balance mastery could have. Whenever Jane had too many blades, Shrub would Earthquake them off. Whenever Shrub dared to summon an aura on herself, Flare would pop it with a Supernova. Plays upon counterplays. Neither side went down easily.

Shrub’s health ticked down slow and eventual. She had no heals of her own, while Flare was able to keep Jane’s health stable with Availing Hands, and his own health up with the occasional Dark Shepherd. Jane grinned as she looked down at her spread of cards and pip count. “You’re going down!”

“What the hell’s going on in there!?” a voice shouted through the door. The handle rattled. “Shit. ALICE!” The person ran off to find this Alice.

Flare broke the duel ring apart. God fucking damn it. Of course you wouldn’t let it be so easy, Leah. One hit away from defeating Shrub or no, the two of them HAD to leave. Alice was a foreboding force, if she had access to this room that a typical anonymous soldier wouldn’t. 

“What the hell?!” Jane protested. “We had this!”

“That was before god put us on a timer of BASICALLY ZERO,” Flare countered. “We need to go.” He made a portal to outside, the indigo lake visible.

Shrub shoved Jane aside and barreled through the portal as soon as it was large enough for her to fit, like there was a fire at her heels too.

“HEY! GET BACK HERE!” Jane shouted at her, rushing after.

Flare ran out last, closing the portal behind him. As he stopped to catch his breath, he watched Shrub run… and couldn’t help but wonder for a moment why a Schismist warrior would be so desperate to flee the Schismists’ fort too.

Jane’s shouts crashed through Flare’s pondering. “FLARE! COME ON! WE CAN’T JUST LET HER GET AWAY LIKE THAT!”

Flare huffed and stretched his arms and wings out. “I’m coming!” Whatever weird infighting and sabotage and subterfugue there was plaguing the Schismists would have to wait. Flare and Jane had a job to do.

~

The two chased Shrub down to another leyline gate, but by the time they appeared on the other side, Shrub was out of sight. “SHIT!” Jane cursed. “MOTHERFUCKING DAMMIT! SON OF A BITCH!”

Flare draped a wing around Jane. “We’re not gonna give up,” he promised. “We just gotta look around for a bit. We don’t even have to rush anymore. We can just… take a breather. Maybe some snacks?”

Jane’s eyes brightened up at that. She was always up for a snack. Could you blame her? She was a growing kid, always hungry. “Y’know what, yeah. I could go for something.”

Flare looked around. These buildings all seemed very… official. Legislative. That’s the word. Not much of a place to get snacks. He approached a hamsterman in a suit and tie. “Excuse me, sir, would you happen to know where we can get something to eat?” he asked. “We’re, uh… tourists. This is our first time here.”

“Tourists, ja? Welcome to Wunderland! Karamelle’s wondrous bite of Novus, discovered by the renowned Alice von Wunder,” the hamsterman said. “You’ll find the lovely Shopping Town on the other end of the shard. Just follow the West Path!” He pointed to a brick path winding past an open gate. “Though, if the cotton candy storms are still over the bridge, you’ll have to go the long way round instead, down to Karamelle itself und sailing up from the Candyrock Summits.”

“Thanks, mister,” Jane piped up.

“Of course, of course!” the hamsterman assured. “Oh- also, are you alright, darling? You swore very loudly when coming out of the leyline!”

“Sprained my ankle,” Jane quickly lied.

“I was able to heal it,” Flare added, letting his hand glow with magical healing light, the Helping Hand spell out of combat. “Magic.”

“Ah, ja, of coure. Wizard types,” the man said. “Well, I won’t hold you here any longer! Have an Olde-Fashioned Delightful Day!™”

~

The West Path was a beautifully curated trail among the woods. The brick road lined with candylike flowers. Gumdrops and peanut-buttercups and fondant roses. The trees were dense around the path, but occasionally there was an opening. Suppose if someone wanted to take a hike or have a picnic, or a boss battle in peace.

If I weren’t used to Wizard101 logic I’d say that’s completely oxymoronic. A boss battle in peace. As if.

You know what I mean.

Yeah yeah.

“Hey, do you think the Alice here and the Alice that other guy was calling for are the same person?” Jane asked, interrupting the banter between an author and his character. 

“Not really. Do you?” Flare asked.

“It’s just… kinda weird. Coincidental?”

Flare shrugged. “Alice isn’t that rare a name.”

“Yeah, but… isn’t the whole deal with the Schismists that they’ve snuck into everywhere? Including politics? Like claiming the shard?”

“That is fair, but… sometimes a political figure is just that. Political. Not a cultist. We shouldn’t be trying to see more people as enemies than we have to.”

“Yeah, yeah… mercy and all that,” Jane sighed. “I just… don’t wanna be blindsided. Because I’m supposed to be the next Wizard… not to mention all the pirating… I gotta keep my eyes open, y’know? Like Ione said.”

“Ione’s always been a bit of a hardass.” Flare knew the Iones in both this spiral and his well. They mean well, but can sometimes get a bit… tunnel visioned. This spiral’s Ione was worse about it by leagues. “You can keep your eyes open for more than just enemies to fight.”

“I guess. I just… don’t wanna end up on a prison galleon in Polaris or something, you know? Or worse.” 

“Yeah, I know…” Flare nodded. It’s unfair, Jane has a lot of expectations on her shoulders at any given time. He could only do so much to alleviate the stress that everything piled up on her. “Can I ask why ya said Polaris specifically? Have you been, before?”

“Not in Polaris, that was just at the tip of my tongue for some reason. I had been in Skull Island, but a pair of pirates helped bust me out bef-” Jane stopped walking. She looked up at the sky in front of her in fear. “Flare.”

“Yeah?” Flare asked, now worried. He looked to where Jane as looking. “Oh-” In front of them roared a massive pink windstorm, engulfing the edges of the land. He tried to *Check the monstrosity.

[KLorem Ipsum Hamster Cinnamon Mole Hurdy-Gurdy]

“Leah,” Flare muttered, unable to keep his irritation at me silent. “Kindly. What the fuck.”

Jane raised an eyebrow. “Who the fuck is Leah?”

“I said that aloud?”

“Yep.”

Flare pinched the pridge between his eyes. “Oh.” Shit how do I explain that we’re characters being written out without giving you an existential crisis!? “Well… he’s basically the Raven, Spider, and Bartleby of the universe I came from.”

“Huh.” Jane hesitated. “His name sounds like just some guy.”

“Yeah. He kinda is. He’s also a massive troll, like what the fuck kind of flavor text is this, man??”

Cinnamon flavor text.

Flare sighed heavily. “I walked right into that one. Son of a bitch.”

“Wait, he answered you???” Jane asked, staring at Flare in utter bewilderment.

“Oh. Yeah. He does that, for better or worse… Usually better.”

“Huh.” Her voice was hollow, Flare’s attempts to stave off the existential crisis had failed. Her friend can just… talk to God. Casually. Damn. If only she could talk to any of the Big Three. But as the existentialism sank in, a miracle unfolded itself in front of the duo. The cotton candy storm parted, like Moses at the Red Sea. 

Flare stared at the storm in bewilderment. “... Son of a bitch rescinded. Doubling down on the ‘what the fuck’, though.” 

“... if I think about this too long I think I’m going to go crazy,” Jane resolved, shaking her head briskly. “But why did- wait nope. That’s thinking about it. Nope nope nope. Can’t do that.” She pushed ahead.

Flare, however, could think about it for longer without going crazy. This meta talk was his normal. So… why this whole cloud thing? Why’d it part for us? Is reality just… kinda fucky? Shitposty? Is this… I can’t think of a better word, normal for this Spiral?

Normal is a meaningless word in Novus and its many shards. This world is Nothing that Flare had ever seen. Magics that never had the chance to surface in his Spiral dance freely in this one. Storms that feast upon existentialism are just one of the ways the fuckiness manifests. For better and worse, there’s more to come.

~

Flare and Jane breached the far edge of the cotton candy storm. The marketplace sprawled out in front of them, with shops advertising sweets galore. The docks were quite busy as well, with one grand ship coming in right now. But right now, there were more important things to pay attention to.

“So… whatcha thinking?” Flare asked, gesturing to the motley of market stands.

Jane looked around, scanning the shops for what exactly she was in the mood for. And then she found it: the holy grail of snacks, the El Dorado of Wunderland. “Chocolate. Over there.” She hurried along, and Flare followed close by.

The hubbub of the market and docks seemed to get louder and louder. Flare glanced out at it, trying to see and hear what was going on. Two voices clamored above the din, though Flare couldn’t see who was shouting it: “... of eVERYTHING DON’T LET IT BE WHAT I THINK IT IS!”

“THEY SAID, AND I QUOTE, ‘GOOD LUCK KICKING THE CALAMARI’S ASS’!”

Flare laughed. “Damn, what the fuck? Jane, you hearing this?”

“Yep. I’m also hearing my stomach growl like crazy! C’mon!” Jane called. “You’ve got the money!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Karamellian candy hit different. Of course a world that’s an entire candy pun would specialize in some downright magical treats. Flare and Jane found a nice shaded spot to sit, chill, and snack. Flare kept his eyes on the skies. That Shrub… After this snack break, he and Jane would have to hunt her down. She probably had to fly around the cotton candy storms. That is… if she was even here. There was a chance that she was headed to some place in the middle of the woods, on the other side of the cotton candy storms, not having to fly at all.

Jane had much less serious things on her mind for now. She heard the mechanical whirr of some sort of… incredibly smooth clockwork come up to her. She looked down and gasped. A small mechanical cat sat in front of her. A bright red coat of paint on its face and body, its ears and tail segmented and silvers, its legs replaced with small wheels under its body. It stared up at Jane with the brightest digital (OwO) expression on its screen of a face. “Flare,” Jane gasped, staring at it as well, completely enamored.

Flare glanced down. “Oh! Where’d this fella come from?”

“No idea. It’s adorable, though.” Jane pet the metal kitten  on its head. It stretched its head up to meet her hand. A digital “Meow!” rang from it. “I’m keeping it,” Jane resolved.

“It’s not owned, is it?”

“It’s not wearing a collar.”

Flare decided to *Check it just in case. [Kit_10. The purrfect pet of Tomorrow! This one isn’t currently owned :3] “It’s your lucky day.”

Jane picked the Kit_10 up and hugged it close. “Hell fuckin’ yeah! I just gotta figure out what to name ya…”

“I’m sure a name will come to ya soon enough,” Flare said. He went back to watching the skies. Where could Shrub have possibly gone?

THERE! On a building by the docks! Leaning against the roof, the greens of her skin and suit almost blending in with the green rooftiles. Key word, almost. There was no way she was just… chilling up there. Flare could see the blueprints in her hands. She must be watching, or listening, or both. As much as Flare wanted to get up and see what was Shrub was espyin’ upon, he knew he’d be spotted if he moved.

Maybe that’d be to his advantage.

“I’m gonna see what’s up with the crowd,” he told Jane. “I’ll be back.”

Jane nodded. “I’ll be trying to come up with names for this guy.”

And down Flare went. Casual, unassuming, he tried his best to not look at Shrub. If she saw him looking at her, she’d know he knew she was there. These sorts of mind games were really dizzying to spell out, but not too hard for him to actually grasp and act upon. Meanwhile, the crowds were talking. Through all the hubbub, Flare couldn’t quite make out what any one person was saying, aside from a few key phrases that seemed almost entirely nonsequitur: Calamari, eldritch putty, Stallion Quartermane, Astral Alliance, Lemuria.

Lemuria was an incredibly… touchy point. It was why Flare was in this second Spiral in the first place. The Schismists of this Spiral had somehow come over to his own, stole an entire world, and brought it here. Flare had come over to this Spiral to warn its Arcanum that the Schismists were making these big moves, while his Arcanum had sent Maulwurf von Trap, ex-Schismist and skilled spy, to infiltrate the Schismists’ ranks and perhaps devise a way to bring Lemuria back?

Now that Flare thought about it, he hadn’t ever had much of a chance to check in on Maulwurf. Every time he actively remembered his friend, there’d always be something else that he HAD to take care of. But right now, there was no such rush. Flare tried to send a Whisper: Hey! Checking in. You safe? How’s Lemuria?

No response. 

He must be busy too, Flare realized. Sadge.

He glanced up towards the building, and just barely caught sight of Shrub’s tail slipping into the window. Damn, perfect timing. Had he looked up a second later, he would’ve missed that. Thank god I saw that. You’re welcome. That building had to be a meeting point of some kind, why else would she have snuck in? Trying to go inside, then coming out through the front door, then sneaking her way into another building would only risk her being noticed by the other people in the crowds.

Flare went back to Jane. “Whenever you’re ready, I found Shrub. We can go yoink the blueprints.”

“Oh shit!” Jane gasped. She stood up. “You bet your ass I’m ready! Let’s go!” She put her helmet on, then picked the Kit_10 up. “I’ll name this guy later. Haven’t had anything good come to mind.”

~

Flare and Jane went down to the building. It was a quaint three-story tower looking out over the docks. Makes sense the Schismists would want a foothold in a busy port, keep an eye on who comes and goes. There was a sign on the door saying “Authorized Personnel Only” in a handful of languages.

“Think we can just portal in?” Jane asked.

Flare looked up to the third floor. “It’ll be risky. We dunno the layout inside. I don’t wanna open up a portal into the middle of the room.”

“We kicked Shrub’s ass once before, we can do it again. This isn’t the entire fort. We won’t get swarmed”

“Meow!” the Kit_10 seemed to agree.

Flare mulled it over, but finally relented. “Alright. Prepare for the worst but hope for the best.” He opened a portal, and prayed that there’d be cover.

The portal opened up to the top of a stairwell. There was a hall and a bend between it and the main room. Perfect.

The duo crept in. Jane put the Kit_10 down. “Okay kitty, I need you to be quiet,” she whispered. “No meows, okay?”

The Kit_10 nodded its mechanical little head.

There was talking within the main room. Voices heard, but faces unseen. “- did not go as smoothly as we had planned, sir.” Shrub’s voice. “The Arcanum sent two of its soldiers to interfere and attempt to retrieve your works as well.”

“I trust you disposed of them?” an older man asked.

“I could not. They were too coordinated, and able to heal back the damage I cast. I only escaped because they fled as soon as we heard an Alliance grunt fetch a senior member.”

“I see. A botched mission that you succeed in is better than one you fail, but moving forward I expect you to do better.”

“Of course, sir.”

A silence.

“... Father,” Shrub amended.

A chill ran through Flare as he put two and two together. He made a text box, silent. [the Old One himself.]

Oh shit, Jane mouthed. She glanced down, to check on the Kit_10. It wasn’t at her feet. She tapped Flare’s arm and pointed down at where the Kit_10 no longer was.

Oh shit, Flare mouthed as well. Fuck, where did it go?!

The Old One made but the slightest ‘hm’ of recognizing his other title. “I trust these two soldiers didn’t track you.” As if the Arcanum would ever resort to tactics that low! Flare and Jane had followed her themselves, they were just that good, no extra trackers required!

“Of course not,” Shrub assured. “They made no physical contact with me, and I was airborne and past the treeline by the time they came through the leyline gate. Additionally, the cotton candy storms are swarming, and only one of the soldiers is winged. With how coordinated they were, I doubt he would have chased after me alone, especially considering he was merely support to the other.”

“Meow!” 

OH SHIT. THAT WAS FROM THE MAIN ROOM.

Silence, and then “Meow! Meow! Meow! Meeeow! Meeeow! Meeeow! Meow! Meow! Meow!” 

“There goes stealth,” Jane grumbled. “Fuck it.” She charged to the main room, Flare right behind, to see the Kit_10 desperately shaking its head and whipping its tail around, as if struggling in the grip of… the Old One. An imposing figure, standing some seven foot tall, his piercing pale gray eyes, immaculate suit (classy top hat included), and posture all radiating an aura of cold command. That was one hell of a B.B.E.G. a la modern video game design if Flare had ever seen one.

Shrub reacted to Jane and Flare barging in first, however. “YOU! How did you-”

“As if we’d ever let you know, Shrub!” Flare retorted. “You ran into the wrong Wizards!”

“You gave them your name?” the Old One asked Shrub.

“I would never!” Shrub insisted. “They- I won’t let you two show me up again!”

The Old One stretched a wing to Shrub’s shoulder, the claw at the tip poking at her skin. “You are being rash. Your judgement clouds.”

“Meow!” the Kit_10 screeched, releasing a spark from its body. The Old One flinched and dropped it, and it rushed right over to Jane.

“… I see the Arcanum’s judgement has clouded over as well, if they think they can send two of its pawns to properly meddle,” the Old One continued. “I suppose you had chance abound to turn back, but mercy is not an option within the Arcanum.”

Flare hated how the Old One ripped that philosophy out of his soul and turned it against him. But… he was right, wasn’t he? There’s no way this can end peacefully now. There was no way the Old One and Shrub would let them leave, with or without the blueprints. There was bound to be a fight. Flare tightened his grip on his spelldeck, and Jane on her wand. 

“Your deaths are entirely your fault,” the Old One warned. He snapped his fingers, and into battle he dragged himself, Shrub, Flare, and Jane. 

Flare quickly *Checked the chthonic man. [The Old One (Myth-Life, Rank 20 Boss) - Secret author of history. Always watching, always nudging. Actually dangerous.] “Oh, this is gonna suck,” Flare groaned. Good luck kicking the calamari’s ass, indeed!

“How bad?” Jane asked.

“Myth-Life. He can heal.”

“Motherfucker.”

Even though the duel circle had declared that Flare and Jane would move first, the Old One had a cheat up his sleeve. A Wyldfire sprung around them all. The Old One didn’t make any scoff or taunt about how apparently he had even more than just two schools of magic at his command.

Flare handed Jane a Blade, and Jane wasted no time attacking Shrub. She had learned from the first fight with her, trying to stack multiple buffs was a waste of time, a pesky Earthquake would just toss it to the wint. This fight would have to be won by a thousand papercuts, and hopefully they can outdamage the Old One’s heals.

An aura sparked to life at the Old One’s feet, and Shrub cast a Spiritblade upon her father. And then the damndest thing happened: the Death portion of the Spiritblade popped, and a second set of Myth- and Lifeblades took its place.

“What the fuck?!” Jane shouted. “That’s bullshit!”

“Now I get what the ‘actually’ was for,” Flare muttered. “He’s gonna sweep us.” But for now, the two of them were still standing. Flare used a cheeky Donate Power, Jane would need all the pips she could get for attack spamming. Jane bid her time with an aura of her own. The Old One cast a pesky weakness on Jane, and Shrub once again lent a blade to her father, which once again burst into a Myth- and Lifeblade pair.

Flare’s heart sank deeper. What was that… six different blades on the Old One in two turns?! If he hit, then the two of them would absolutely wipe. There’s no way Jane could take a triple-bladed hit, and Flare wouldn’t be in good shape either! He cast a Spirit shield on Jane, and Jane lobbed another attack at Shrub. Her attacks weren’t the strongest as is, and that extra Weakness from last round DID NOT HELP.

Finally, the Old One sent an absolute behemoth of an attack. Tatzlewurm, a nasty AOE that neither Jane nor Flare had ever seen, let alone been on the receiving end of! Shielding Jane was the right call! Holy shit! Shrub then cast an attack of her own, at Jane! Just to pile on the pain.

Only three rounds in and this fight was already going bad. Flare chose to heal himself with an Availing Hands, and Jane picked out a Tower shield to also help Flare stay on his feet- but before either spell could come out, the Old One had yet another cheat?! Out of absolutely NOWHERE, a DoT burned into existence at the two Wizards’ feets, then a frigid Balefrost took Wyldfire’s place. 

Flare was damn glad that he and Jane both went on the defensive!

The Old One decided to go defensive as well, casting a Tower Shield of his own- that glitched and became an absorb for- 

“EX FUCKING CUSE ME?!” Jane shouted out of turn. “FIVE FUCKING THOUSAND?!”

“You made a mistake trifling in Schismist affairs!” Shrub taunted on the Old One’s behalf. “Now you see what you’re messing wi-”

“Enough!” the Old One scolded Shrub. “You make yourself seem a fool with your banter.” 

Admonished, Shrub simply cast her spell, a Balanceblade like before. Strangely, this time, it didn’t split. Did the Old One’s abilities depend on which Global buff was up?

“Jane, try casting a bubble,” Flare suggested. “We could use the extra edge, and… I’ve got a theory.”

Jane nodded and cast out a Balance of Power while Flare healed himself again. The bubble took over the Balefrost for a moment, then faltered.

“Alright. That solves nothing. Good to know,” Flare grimaced.

“Playing by this bastard’s rules…” Jane growled. She glanced down at the Kit_10 at her feet. This was all the damn pet’s fault! If it hadn’t rolled out here, then there would’ve been a chance that they could’ve avoided this fight! If Jane hadn’t taken it in the first place, then it wouldn’t have been anywhere near here! Mad at the damn pet, mad at herself. But it’s not like she could do anything about it now! She’s in a fight! And… she doesn’t have the heart to leave such an itty bitty weird clockwork kitty all alone. A captain doesn’t abandon any of her crew, not even the kind that gets her in danger. She made a damn commitment to the Kit_10, for better and for worse.

The fight dragged on, Flare and Jane both struggling to keep themselves and each other alive. Flare began to rely heavily on Dark Shepherd to sustain himself, but even that wasn’t enough. They hardly had the chance to properly attack, and what damage they did do to Shrub and the Old One was quickly healed back up, either by Healing Currents that the Old One just happened to be able to use as a Darkwind crackled around them, or with a healing spell Flare had never seen before, Never Say Die, when the Old One’s own Balance of Power shone.

Flare couldn’t see a way out. Everything he tried to think of felt like it would fail, either thanks to his own exhaustion or the Old One’s power or the Spiral itself enforcing its rules and rejecting every other magic. He couldn’t break the duel circle apart because he wasn’t the one who summoned it this time! He couldn’t summon portals while in combat, and even if he could, it’s not like he could go through them! The duel circle kept him right where he stood. The other nonSpiralian magic he had didn’t translate well into Spiral combat, plus how much could it even possibly do, as spent as Flare was already? How much determination did he really have, in the face of certain doom? His hands were tied. Perhaps he’d be a braver and foolier martyr who could say ‘fuck it’ and try some desperate gambit, if it weren’t for the fact that Jane was here. He had to keep Jane safe. He was bound to that duty.

Jane didn’t have her own ‘Jane’ to keep safe. She was getting pissed. Trying to help Flare heal the two of them was getting nowhere, Wizard heals were nothing like the heals a Pirate could use! She looked to the spells in her hand. One card appeared all sorts of fucked up. Torn, blurred, covered in glitches and blocks of black static. She had been avoiding using that spell because using a fucked up spell like that simply… felt dangerous. Like using a sparkthrower that clearly wasn’t maintained, or a busted shield. But at this point, she had no other option. She cast it, a hail mary.

The attack spun itself together, taking the form of a… pillar? A tree? Before she could even tell what the fuck it was, though, it glitched and fell apart. A waste of however many pips she had. 

Dread strangled her like handcuffs and an ill-fitting necklace. What the actual shit was that? Are you fucking kidding me? No. NO. I’m not letting my turn be a fucking waste! Her absolute rage cut through whatever bullshit laws of magic forced this entire song and dance. A dagger through tough ropes. To hell with ‘turns’ in the first place! Jane grabbed the Kit_10 and stormed forward. “HEY, MOLD ONE! EAT SHIT!” And she threw the Kit_10 at the Old One with the fury of a thousand fucking suns.

The Old One brought his arms up to try and catch the Kit_10. However its momentum barreled it past his hands, and it crashed into his sternum, his windpipe, his spine. Like a cannonball tearing through a flimsy ship hull. Absolute shock and indignation. How did this child-

His body collapsed under the weight of the Kit_10, and his spine failing. For better and worse (though mostly for better), the Old One was as damned as dead.

Shrub stared at her father’s corpse. Terror ate at her bones. Her stomach churned at the sight of some of of her father’s blue blood trickling out from his mouth. “You…”

“Geeettttttt dunked on!” Jane crowed. “Hey, Flare, how’d I do?”

Flare blinked, getting out of his shocked stupor. “Uh- You did great! Let’s get out of here.” He had no idea how Jane had done… any of that, but good for her! And what the fuck! But mostly good for her! He broke the duel circle apart and picked up the blueprints Shrub had left on a small desk in the corner.

“Meow!” the Kit_10 said, chipper as ever, despite it still sitting on a bloody corpse.

“And you did great too!” Jane said, scooping the Kit_10 in her arms, babytalking it. “I am so proud of you!”

Flare made a portal to the Arcanum. “Let’s get that cleaned up before you cuddle it,” he told Jane with a slight chuckle. He wanted to get out of here. He didn’t do well with corpses. Especially not fresh ones.

“NO,” Shrub screeched, all the grief and hatred bursting from her in a moment. “No, I will not let you get away with this! Don’t you dare think you can get away with this!” She glared at Flare and Jane, her eyes as smoldering hot as her late father’s had been piercing cold. “I am what you two could never be. What neither Arcanum nor Alliance could ever understand. Neither you nor Manticore can stop the Spiral’s true fate!”

Jane opened her mouth to deliver one last scathing clapback, but Flare stood in the way and gently nudged her through the portal. She was grieving, snapping, they should at least give her the mercy of quiet. He closed the portal as soon as the two were through.

“Awh come on, are ya seriously gonna let her have the last word?” Jane asked. “I had a helluva jeer for her, too! I’m already what she is, just some girl with a dead dad!”

Flare took a deep breath. How the hell to explain this. “We cannot take another fight. We’ve got like… what, maybe two hundred HP apiece, was it?”

“And what’re we supposed to do, just let her ramble and diss us like that?”

“We rest. We recover. And who knows, maybe she’ll find us and we get a chance to fight her again.” Those words dropped from his mouth and settled in his gut like lead. He did not want to face her again. He hadn’t wanted to be accomplice for murder. He hadn’t wanted to force Jane into a position where she had to murder. But for better and for worse… it happened anyway. “You should wash yourself and the Kit_10 off. I’ll hand in the blueprints and report to Ione.”

~

A few hours later, after the not-so-simple quest had been turned in, Flare found Jane and the Kit_10 over by Sybil, the sleeping birch of the Arcanum. He still had no idea what its name was. “So, got any ideas of names for it?”

“Meow!” the Kit_10 mewed as Flare approached.

“How about Stabbington the Squidslayer?” Jane asked. “They did help, after all.” She gave it a pat on the head.

Flare sat down next to Jane. “Someone might get mad,” he warned. “Y’know, given that’s literally us admitting our crime. And accomplice.” Technically the Kit_10 was a weapon, not an accomplice, but technicalities.

“So… not a great idea in the slightest. Gotcha…” Jane looked aside. She was used to being proud of her crimes. Having to keep silent about her accomplishment, especially with how kickass it was, felt stifling. 

“But… we can make a pun out of it so convoluted nobody will guess?”

“Oh yeah!”

Flare rushed to the Arcanum’s Repository, grabbed a encyclopedia of marine life, and hurried back to Jane. “Let’s see… what puns can we come up with for…” He flipped over to the page for the common squid. “Loligo vulgaris?” He then did a double take. “Wait. Vulgaris? Really?? What the hell, scientists???” What’s so vulgar about a squid?

“What about… Grim Bubbles?” Jane then suggested. “Grim like the grim reaper, and bubbles because sea life?”

Flare gasped and slammed the encyclopedia shut. “That’s GENIUS.”

“Why, thank you!” Jane tried to bow, overdramatic and proud. It just looked like she was folding herself over Grim Bubbles, gloping it in an armless hug. She then straightened up. “I do have a wonderful teacher, after all.”

“That ya do,” Flare admitted, letting himself have a moment of pride too.

“Meow!” Bubbles said. It wheeled around, mechanical zoomies.

“Aww, they like it too!” Jane cooed. 

It was rather nice, being able to play with Bubbles. A moment of lightheartedness and peace. Jane didn’t have any regrets today. Flare had a few, but that’s simply to be expected. He could never take something as face value or absolute. 

~

This quest happened for better and worse, and the two of them were certain it was ultimately for the better.

#wizard101 #cleaved au #oc: flare #friend's oc: jane doe #friend's oc: shrub #i wrote a thing! :3 #it's technically a day late but i finished it at like 12:05 am and didn't have the energy to post it to tumblr then & there #wiztober2023

[saintmeghanmarkle]

Time Machine On Walmart Wallis Female Chauvinist SJW Cursader Political Progressive Activist Aaaand.....Gourmet Foodie Connoisseur! by u/Zestyclose-Level1871

Time Machine On Walmart Wallis, Female Chauvinist, SJW Cursader, Political Progressive Activist Aaaand.....Gourmet Foodie Connoisseur! This intriguing clip is from the dusty shelves of the vault. Have to give WW a good amount of credit for hustling enough to get this cooking show gig. Looks like this was done around the time she was a rising local C list celeb on the Toronto circuit (after landing both Suits and Corey V). Also seems her PR agency used a combo of her Foodie TIG "globe trotting experience" and default of being Corey V's gf for street cred in landing this gig. But jury still out on whether the pay was worth the effort though. Also really need to commend the other irl culinary chefs on the panel for the degree of professionalism they displayed the whole time. Winning Communication got her number and summed his reaction to her cosplaying female Gordon Ramsey perfectly: "...It's ridiculous how she went from party-girl-sorority-elite-lifestyle-blogging-expert/Advocate-I-grew-up-poor-and-self-made..." Couldn't stop laughing. Especially at the fact she seemed completely unaware of just how naked her narcissism was on full display. Seriously. The woman simply. Could. NOT. Stop. Talking. And thereby drawing attention to herself. Her thirst was literally consuming her on that panel. O.ohttp://http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KM5GR0m-0EsIf this is what the future holds for potential revenue streams for the Office of the DDoS, then the vexing Dastardly Duo are truly royally screwed. Lol​ post link: https://ift.tt/Yc5kX2f author: Zestyclose-Level1871 submitted: March 03, 2024 at 02:49AM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit

#SaintMeghanMarkle #harry and meghan #meghan markle #prince harry #fucking grifters #Worldwide Privacy Tour #Instagram loving bitch wife #Backgrid #voetsek meghan #walmart wallis #markled #archewell #archewell foundation #megxit #duke and duchess of sussex #duke of sussex #duchess of sussex #doria ragland #rent a royal #clevr #clevr blends #lemonada media #archetypes #archetypes with meghan #invictus #invictus games #Sussex #Zestyclose-Level1871