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queenofmistresses · 1 year

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The Third Musketeer

Chapter 5

A/N I did a mini poll to decide whether or not to continue after the last chapter or redo it and leave out the *cough* events between Stiles and reader. I didn’t have many responses but most people voted for me to continue! So here’s the next chapter! Hope you all enjoy and please reblog and even give me feedback if you’re feeling extra nice! Thank you! Not fully proofread btw…

Someone had been murdered. Again. And guess who was at the crime scene? Jackson and Lydia. God, it’s like no-one can escape this.

Stiles called me up last night to tell me about it, it wasn’t good, and Jackson was angry. So angry he started yelling at Stiles’ dad.

I try to forget about everything as I walk into school, taking a deep breath and step inside. Just, focus on school, that’s what’s important right now. Don’t make things worse by letting your grades go down.

After my first class, Stiles came running up to find me, “Scott needs to do something.” He leans agains my locker.

“I know.”

“Lydia’s not been in today.” He looks me up and down slightly. I press my back against the locker next to him.

“I know.”

“Someone should probably go to her house and see if she’s ok.”

“I know.” I nod, looking at him.

“I-is it ok if I go and check on her?”

“Yeah of course, I’m not your keeper, you don’t need my permission.” I chuckle slightly.

“Yeah- yeah I know but, you know, I don’t want you to be upset or anything.”

“And why would it upset me?” I ask, knowing the answer.

“Y/n you know what I’m talking about stop making this hard.” He groans. I chuckle.

“Stiles, we said we weren’t going to do anything about you know what. You’re allowed to do what you want.”

“I just, I just want you to be happy.” He mumbles and looks down to the floor. I turn to face him and bring a hand up to hold his cheek to move him to look at me.

“Stiles I am.” I say, searching his eyes. Trying to figure out what this is really about. He shakes his head.

“No. You’re not happy. You’re not even ok. And who can blame you?! Everything’s going wrong right now! And I can’t even be in a relationship with you! I can’t support you the way I want to.” Now I bring my other hand to his face.

“You’re right. I’m not happy. But I’m still here and I’m coping. And I know that you want to do more, and that’s why I fell for you, but right now I can’t be your priority. Your best friend is a werewolf. And there is an alpha running around murdering people. I can wait. You’re batman remember?” That brings a little smile to his face, “I can’t let Gotham fall because I stole their hero now, can I?”

He searches my eyes for a moment before tugging me into a tight hug. I hug him back, pouring as much emotion as I can into it. He pulls away and this time it’s his turn to hold my face, it has my stomach doing flips. “You’re amazing you know that? God, how did I get so lucky?” He smiles wide at me, then he brings his face closer to mine and it feels like he’s staring into my soul. “Your batman is going to save Gotham faster than you can blink, and then, catwoman,” he winks, “I’m going to come and save you. I’m not going anywhere.” I smile at him.

“Thank you.” I mouth to him and I lean my body forwards slightly. He kisses my forehead and brings me into another hug.

“Can you come with me?” He asks, and of course, I give him a nod.

“Honey there’s a Stiles and y/n here to see you.” Lydia’s mom says as she walks into Lydia’s room. Lydia’s lying on the bed picking at her nails.

“What hell is a Stiles?” She asks. I try not to chuckle.

“She took a little something to ease her nerves,” her mom nervously tells us, “you can go in.”

“Thanks.” Me and Stiles say stepping inside the room. I decide to let Stiles take the lead on this one since it was his idea. Lydia turns to face us and I see the lack of appropriate clothes get revealed.

“What are you doing here?”

“W-we were just making sure you’re ok.”she hums, looking at us both.

“Why?” She pats the bed and Stiles glances at me, I give him a slight nod and he sits in the gap she just made.

“Because I was worried about you today. How are you feeling?” He asks. I smile at how caring he is. Lydia moves and squeezes Stiles’ bicep before sitting up.

“I feel fantastic.” She brings her face super close to Stiles’ and I can’t help but feel a little uncomfortable.

Just as I’m about to say something, Stiles reaches over to Lydia’s bedside table and picks up her pills. He chuckles when he reads the label, “I bet you can’t say ‘I saw Suzy sitting in a shoeshine shop’ 10 times fast.”

“I saw shuzy- err- I shaw-“ she stares at Stiles and gets a horrible look on her face as he puts the pills down. Then she leans down and stares at the wall, “I saw…” ok… this feels important.

“What? Lydia what did you see?” Stiles asks and I move closer.

“Something.” She says, and I can tell she seems to be holding back.

“Something like… like a mountain lion?” I suggest.

“A mountain lion.” She smiles slightly, dazed.

“Are you sure you saw a mountain lion or are you just saying that because that’s what the police told you?”

“A mountain lion.” She says as if reassuring someone, though I suspect the someone is herself.

Stiles takes the stuffed giraffe toy off her desk and holds it up to her. “What’s this?”

“A mountain lion.” She says, now seeming sure of herself.

“Okay…” Stiles mutters then turns to me, “She is so high.” Just as he says that Lydia slumps onto his leg looking like she’s asleep.

“Oh god.” I mutter, rubbing my head.

“Well we’re gonna go.” Stiles declares after a few minutes of us glancing between each other and Lydia. “Leave you to the whole post traumatic stress thing.” He gets up and we walk out the room, just as I’m about to close the door Lydia’s phone rings.

“Um, want me to get that Lyds?” I ask, the first thing I’ve said to her today. She doesn’t respond so I walk over to make sure it’s nothing important for her. I open her phone and see that it’s a text, but before I can try to open it, a video on her phone starts playing. A video of what looks like, the alpha wolf. “Oh my god… Stiles look at this!” He rushes over, having heard my urgency and he watches the video. Oh god, Lydia really did see it. What do we do now? This could endanger her further. Stiles looks like he’s having the same thoughts.

We quickly head back to Stiles’ house and try to get hold of Scott. Stiles calls him but it goes straight to voicemail, what is he doing? “Hey, it’s me again.” Stiles starts. “Look, I found something and I don’t know what to do okay?” His voice breaks a little and it makes my heart hurt. “So if you could turn your phone on,” he sounds a little more frustrated now, “right now, that’d be great. Or else, I’ll kill you, you understand me? I’m gonna kill you. We both will! And I’m too upset to come up with a witty description about hoe exactly I’m gonna kill you, but I’m just gonna do it okay? I’m gonna… ugh! Goodbye!” He hangs up and drops his phone on his bed,

He groans and sighs, sitting backwards on his desk chair and putting his head against his arms. I come up behind him and rub his shoulders a little. I’m about to say something before Noah knocks on the door making both of us jump.

“Please tell me I’m gonna hear good news at this parent-teacher thing tonight.” Oh god I forgot that was tonight.

“Depends on how you define good news.” Stiles responds, seemingly avoiding looking at me.

“I define it as you getting straight A’s with no behavioural issues.”

“You might wanna rethink that definition.” Stiles says, trying to be humorous, but I can hear the disappointment.

“Enough said.” Noah says, sparing me a quick smile before walking off.

Stiles sighs sadly and looks down at his desk. I bring my hands back up to his shoulders, squeezing them reassuringly. “It’s okay Stiles, you’ve got a lot going on.” He sighs and nods, bring one of his hands up to mine and squeezing it before bringing it forward to place a quick but gentle kiss to my palm. I’m glad he can’t see my face because I must look like an idiot.

“Ugh! Scott better get back from whatever it is he’s doing soon or I really am gonna kill him.” I chuckle leaning down so my chin is resting on his head. “No arguments from me there.” I respond, making him chuckle a little too.

We stay like that quietly for a little bit. Eventually Stiles grabs the phone again and wordlessly deletes the video from Lydia’s phone. I agree with his decision so I don’t say anything to him.

Soon I head to the student-teacher conference, I meet my mum and tell her I haven’t seen Scott all day. She calls him but as predicted he doesn’t pick up. She quickly gives up and heads inside telling me to tell him where she is when he arrives.

I see Allison’s car pull up and I look inside to see Scott and suddenly it all clicks as to where he’s been. Just as I’m about to storm over to him, my mum storms out the door, clearly trying to contact him, sounding angry. Scott ducks below the dashboard and I decide that I won’t snitch right now, but he owes me.

My mum spots Allison’s parents coming out the door and we overhear them trying to get in contact with her too. She goes over to speak to them and just before their discussion gets heated, Allison and Scott get out of the car.

We all storm over to them and our mum starts asking where he’s been. Just as Allison’s dad tells her to get in the car to go home, we hear some kind of scream. We all run over to see what’s happening.

People are running around and screaming everywhere, running to their cars and panicking. But I can’t see why. I hear some kind of growling and try to figure out what’s making the noise, through all the panic and cars suddenly pulling out, I separate from Scott. Suddenly I’m about 3 feet from Noah who’s trying to get people out.

A car suddenly pulls out as he walks behind it, pushing him over. I quickly run over to him checking on him. “I’m alright, I’m alright.” He reassures and I kneel down next to him.

“Are you sure? That looked painful.” I ask, looking over to make sure.

He pulls a gun out of a holster attached to his calf and just as he tried to get his bearings, we hear 2 gunshots. We both look over to see Allison’s dad lowering his gun.

Everyone gathers around whatever he shot while I stay with Noah to try and help. I hear a few people mutter out the words ‘mountain lion’ and it surprises me but I have other priorities.

God Stiles is going to be upset when he hears about this.

#stiles stilinski fluff #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinski x reader #teen wolf rewrite #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #stiles x reader

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watchinghallmark · 2 years

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Alright! Here is the feedback received about the upcoming content:

Movie stills: Yes and don’t care tied so I’ll lean more towards yes and shoot for 1 or 2 stills per movie.

Previews: An overwhelming majority want the previews to continue to be in gif form so that’s what I’ll keep on doing.

Silly tracker: Most didn’t care but a lot of you want to do it so we will. Now we just need to figure out what to track (I’ve already started a list). More on that later. I love that I’m constantly creating more work for myself! So typical of me.

Comments: Thank you for the nice words! I appreciate you appreciating me!

I'd love more lead character-focused gifsets, too, tracking their "arc" over the movie. Maybe just for some of the big Hallmark names at this point, or the new faces. There's so much exciting content coming this year! - This is something I would like to do more of but it’s a lot of work to keep up with everything. That might be something that happens on a larger scale in January/February when I’m not so overwhelmed. If someone wants to bankroll me so I can quit my job and just gif Hallmark movies full time please hit me up. If not, I’ll do what I can. I’ll also be making gifs of Yellowstone and 1923 during all of this too sooooo we’ll see. I managed last year.

One thing you don't change - Keep posting Kissing Gifs - I definitely plan to keep doing gifs of the kissing scenes. I like doing those.

I would like a movie kiss tracker, a poll about which movie you are most excited for that weekend and a poll for favorite Christmas movie actor and actress!! - I already do track how many kisses. If you want something else tracked related to the kisses that can maybe be added into the “silly” tracker. Let me know what you meant by that. There’s already going to be a ton of polls for the bracket and I don’t want to inundate you guys with even more (or myself having to manage all of them). What we could do is have a question about which movie you were most excited for and then which one you ended up liking the best. Does that work? Then it’s all in one singular poll for each voting block for the bracket. We voted for our fave actors and actresses a while back so probably won’t be doing that again anytime soon since I doubt it will change much.

I love voting on the worst movie posters. - I can add worst poster back into the polls as well.

Let me know if any other thoughts or suggestions come to mind after looking this over!

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hangezoeenthusiast · 3 years

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Papa

Part 2 Part 3

let me know if you wanna be tagged please. this will be a series

fem!daughter!reader

word count: 1,855

person: c!schlatt, c!quackity, c!karl, c!sapnap

warnings: parents, cursing, yelling, orphans, cigars and alcohol mention (btw these are the warnings for now)

synopsis: you were loved, you were cherished, then someone left, and other people replaced that person, and you didn't like that.

Your biological parents threw you out of their home because they couldn't care for you. You were at least at the brink of 2 years old when this happened. They put you in a little stroller and took you to an orphanage. "Miss Jessica's Home For Orphans", it was a stupid place, but the place got you fed, and clothed.

On some fortunate day, you were going to get adopted. Quackity his name was. He came in, and asked for kids 2-6. "Those ages are easy to maintain", he thought in his head. He was contemplating whether or not to get a child of his own. He was lonely, no one to love, no one to care for. So Miss Jessica called everyone 2-6 years old to come.

With help from a older person, everyone 2-6 came downstairs. Quackity looked at everyone, and wondered which child he would bring home. Then he looked at you. you looked so adorable, so cute. He asked you, "Hey kid, what's your name." "I'm Y/n, how are you." you smiled at him with barely any teeth. He pulled you gently off to the side, "Hey kiddo, do you want to come with me to my house?" "Yes Mr." you answer.

You were glad to go to Quackity's house, you never had any love from anyone.

(Spongebob theme) 8 years later

You were 10 years old, living happily with Quackity. 8 years ago, he came to the orphanage and picked you up, ever since, you were showered with love and care. But there was one thing, you never called Quackity dad. You would just call him Alex or Quackity.

“Hey Quackity, what’s for lunch?”

“Ummm, some pizza with wings, buffalo right?”

“Yeah.”

Quackity felt bad, you never and did call him by dad, or any parental name. “Hey kid, can i talk to you about something.”

You put down your water, “Yeah, what’s up?” “So lately I’ve noticing that you have been calling me by my name?”

“Are you uncomfortable with me using your name.” you asked. “No, no, but it’s kinda weird, since, yaknow, I adopted you, and I’m a parental figure in your life, so maybe if you would call me dad or another parental name that would be cool?”

“Ohh, the only reason I was calling you by your name because I thought you were uncomfy with me calling you dad?”

“Oh thank goodness, I thought I did something wrong.” he sighed out.

"Could I possibly call you papa, since you-" he cut you off by hugging you. He squeezed his arms around you really hard, 'YES, YES, ANYTHING."

So after that, you would call him papa or dad, and sometimes use his real name.

6 years later, you were 16. The election happened, the calling out of the votes, Coconut2020 coming in fourth, which was last, who was lead by Fundy and Nihachu, Schlatt2020 coming in third, lead by Jschlatt, Swag2020 coming in second, lead by Quackity who is your papa and Georgenotfound, and Pog2020 coming in first lead by Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot, and Tubbo. Also the sudden announcement of Schlatt2020 and Swag2020 polling votes, and the speech by Schlatt stating that Wilbur Soot and Tommyinnit were no longer citizens of L'Manberg now turned Manberg.

You were surprised, you didn't know that your father with add his votes with Schlatt's. So immediately after Wilbur and Tommy got banned from Manberg, Quackity and Schlatt called you and Tubbo up to the stage. "HEY YOU TWO, COME UP HERE." Schlatt yelled at you both. You both were reluctant to go, Schlatt was scary, his ram-horned self.

"It's ok Y/n, you're ok." your father told you. You stiffly went up the stage with Tubbo. "Tubbo, I want you to be the Secretary of State, and Y/n, I want you to be the First Lady, since your dad is the Vice-President." Schlatt demanded you both to be.

You didn't really want to be in a position of power. You were happy with living with Quackity, in L'Manberg, with no place of authority over anyone.

"Are you sure Schlatt, I mean, I suck at authority." said Tubbo. "Yes, I'm sure, I'm totally sure."

You were doing some paperwork for Schlatt when Tubbo came into your office, "Y/n, Schlatt and Quackity want you in their office."

"Ok, I need to finish this paperwork for Punz, he needs-"

"They said it's urgent."

"Fineee." you got up from your chair, "Thanks Tubbo, by the way, can you finish the paperwork, if you aren't busy."

"Yeah sure Y/n, just hurry up, they are really acting crazy in there." he jokingly stated. "Trust me, they're doing nothing."

You went out of your office, and walked all the way to Schlatt's. There, you found Quackity and Schlatt sitting together, talking about some random presidental shit. "Hey, what you guys needed me for?" you asked. You were desperate to go back to your office, still not used to this place. "We need to tell you something." they synchronized.

"Okkk, so what?"

"Umm, well Y/n, meet your new dad." you gaped at Quackity, then Schlatt repeatedly.

"NOPE."

"NEVER."

"WHY HIM."

"HE SUCKS ASS."

"HE SMELLS LIKE CIGARS AND ALCOHOL, WHY WOULD YOU WANNA DATE SOMEONE WHO SMELLS LIKE THAT."

You rambled on and on until Quackity covered your mouth to stop your obsequent talking, "Calm down mi quierda, first of all, it's not your choice, he makes me happy, I make him happy, and lastly, he smells great."

"YEAH I DO, YOU TELL HER BABE, I DON’T STINK." Schlatt yelled across the room.

“But why him, like there is multiple other people who is better than him.” you whined.

“Ok kid, I like, no love him, he loves me, why can’t you be happy with that.” Schlatt told you irritated.

“But-”

“No buts, just please be supporting of us, please mi amor?”

“Fine, doesn’t mean I like it.”

After that little argument you had with Schlatt and Quackity, you finished leftover paperwork so there wouldn’t be a pile of it when you came back to the office the next day.

You heard a knock on the door, and told them to come in. To your surprise, annoyingly, it was Schlatt, holding up your favorite hamburger from McDonalds. “Hey kid, what you doing?” he asked you.

You didn’t respond to him, trying to stay silent and finish the paperwork. “Your dad told me your favorite meal from McDonald’s, yaknow, as a present I guess.”

You still ignored him. "Kid, I know you don't like me, I wouldn't like me either if I found out my dad was dating-" you interrupted him, "It's not that, I want dad to be happy, it's YOU, you don't deserve his love. Do you understand Schlatt?"

He put his hand on your knee, "I know, I don't deserve him, I'm not trying to replace anyone in your life, I just want to make Quackity and possibly you happy."

You blankly looked at him, "Ok, that was a good statement, but if you hurt dad, I will make sure you live the rest of your life feeling like shit."

"We got a deal kid, you accept this partnership between me and your dad, and I'll won't break his heart, deal?"

You shook his hand, "Deal Schlatt."

"Hey kid, we're going out to a date, you want anything from outside?" Schlatt knocked on your door to your room. You were reading your favorite book when Schlatt interrupted your reading process, "Nah, have a good date."

You were kinda accepting Schaltt dating Quackity. You didn't like their PDA though. It was absolutely digusting, but it made your father happy. "Hey babe, what you doing in here?" Quackity appeared at the frame of your door. "Nothing, just talking to little ol' Y/n, isn't that right?"

"Yes, don't call me that though." "Ok then, you ready babe?" asked Schlatt. "Yeah, Y/n, don't do anything stupid while me and Schlatt are gone." You rolled your eyes, "I'm not going to do anything stupid papa, just have a great night with Jcum." "HEY, DON'T CALL ME JCUM."

"Love you both." you got back into your book, not knowing that the both of them were shocked.

Those three little words got both of them gaping at you. You didn't like Schlatt from the beginning, and you were saying to him "love you"? "What did you just say mi amor?" "I said love you both." you didn't know that those words were significant to Schlatt.

He wanted your approval of dating Quackity, since you are his only daughter. "HOLY SHIT, YOU SAID LOVE YOU TO ME, TO ME." Schlatt leaped with joy. "Don't take it too serious Jschlatt, you kinda warmed up to me these past weeks." you smirked.

He walked to your bed, and hugged you with all his might.

"Schlatt."

"What are you doing?"

"You are squeezing me too tight."

"I can't breath right now, let go of me."

You squeezed out, he was crushing all the oxygen out of your body, "Sorry, Y/n." he shyly spoke, rubbing the back of his neck. "Schlatt, we have had a lot of arguments, I didn't like you, still kinda don't right now, but you are actually a good person, and I actually, not fakely, approve you to date my dad."

Schlatt ran out your room screaming repeatedly, "YES, LET'S GOOO."

Quackity was out doing some random things for Schlatt, while you were cooking Schlatt's favorite food. Since last week you declared that you were actually ok with their relationship, you actually got comfortable with Jschlatt being near you.

It was a teasing relationship, you guys making fun of each other when the other did something wrong. To kinda celebrate the event, you were making food. You heard the door open, and there Schlatt was in his presidential suit. "Hey Schlatt, what's up?" you questioned while mixing the pasta in the pot.

He took of his jacket, shoes, and tie, looking stressed, "Nothing kid, just stresed out" "About what?" "Tubbo needs a lot of items to get something for me, but I don't have them." he sighed. "What does he need?" "He needs stupid netherite, the only thing I don't have in hand." "I actually have some, I could give it to Tubbo." you stated. "Thanks kiddo." "No problem Schlatt."

"Anyways, food is going to be ready in an hour."

"Thanks, I'll be in my room."

"Ok dad." He stopped in his tracks, "What did you just say to me." "What do you mean?" "Y-you just called me dad." he stumbled on his words with unbelief lacing them.

You smiled over your shoulder, "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, who knows?" "You actually consider me to be your dad?"

"Well yeah, you're nice to me and papa, you take care of me, you love me, so why not?"

He hugged you from behind, "Thanks kiddo, I'll receive this announcemet with honor," he jokingly stated. "No problemo dad, just go take a shower, you stink." "NEVER." he wrapped his arms around you as much as he could.

(This is the end of this first part, this is my first time making a series, let me know what you think)

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simmancy · 3 years

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Love Among the Stars: A Not So Perry Bachelorette Challenge

I just love bachelor challenges, ok? But why not make things a little.... spicy!

The sim that wins this challenge will be marrying into my Not So Berry family, which is fun! Yay for them! The problem.... They have to survive this fever dream.... AND they won’t know what their future spouse looks like til the end.

Is it a murder mystery bachelorette challenge? An Among Us challenge? Something like that awful Netflix show Sexy Beasts that my friend @lazarish alerted me to? A giant mistake? Perhaps it’s all of the above!!

Want to participate? Here’s how...

all gender identities welcome!

have fun making your sim, give them skills and traits and whatever else you’d like! tag me in the post, tell me a little about them, you know for flavor. in the actual gameplay they won’t meet the Bachelorette til... later... HOWEVER....

please dress your sim up in THIS for their first outfit. feel free to pick other outfits out! throw as much cc on there as you like! I won’t be unmasking them until the end.... or they meet.... an untimely demise.

ETA: have them ~suited up~ for their intro post as well! (thank u berry for asking)

every day sims will go about their business, doing their tasks, playing a mini game to earn interactions with the bachelorette or immunity, but THEN....

your sim MAY be murdered. by “murdered” i mean i will stage a scene and kill them off via MCCC, because i don’t want to install extreme violence it scares me

YOU will vote for who you think the imposter is. The sim at the top of the suspect list will take a negative relationship hit with the Bachelorette... and the sim with the least votes will get a positive boost. The sim with the least amount of relationship will then get ejected :D

Hopefully that sim will be the Imposter but if not >:) we begin again.....

Deadline is September 17! That’s next Friday!

FAQ & Secret Lore

Kit this is a good/bad idea! Why are you this way?

I just quit my job and am moving to a... quieter/simpler job and I wanted something really easy and fun to decompress with and a bachelorette challenge seemed like a good idea... Oh, why THIS style?

Because I asked in a poll which bachelorette I should use, and it was TIED ALL DAY and I got mad so here we are.

Mad enough to murder?

....maybe.

So who IS the bachelorette?

Either a spare from Gen 1 of my NSB or the HEIR of Gen 3. They are surprisingly close in age... And they like space. Both the outer kind and from people. Go figure.

If you click around my page (on desktop not mobile) you can probably find one of them, my NSB family page is updated up to gen 2 but not gen 3. I mean, spoilers, but.

Should my contestant be suited up for the intro post?

Absolutely. Mask themselves from me AND the voters. You don’t want a pretty face to fool the voting public!

How will the Imposter be chosen?

Every contestant is going to be put in a list, and I’ll randomize the list, and voila: Imposter chosen. I’ll even randomize who the Imposter kills.

What traits are allowed?

All of them. Every trait. Even romantic. Yeah, we’re going full chaos here. Of course.. if they have evil or mean, I’ll weight the randomizer more in that direction.

What about supernaturals? I know you Kit, you’ve got that thing for vampires.

I DO love vampires... Of course supernaturals are allowed!!!

What if someone chooses the same suit color as my person??? What if you get more than 7 sims???

I don’t know! I’ll randomly choose a different color then. If I get TOO many contestants then we get TWO rounds and both bachelorettes get to play and then it’s truly chaos hours at simmancy dot tumblr dot com.

If I get more than 14 sims I don’t know what I’ll do. Cry, probably.

Anything other questions??? ASK AWAY.

#ts4 #ts4 bachelorette challenge #why am i doing it like this?#i posted a poll and then its just been TIED #so now we can all suffer: i won't know what your contestant looks like and you won't know if its the heir or the spare #we're even!#anyway this is the WORST idea i've ever had but it sounds fun right #nsp extra #love among the stars

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scullydubois · 4 years

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Only the Light (ch. 3)

Description: Missy moves in with Scully post-One Breath/Scully’s abduction. In this chapter, Scully goes through her morning routine and gets a surprise...

part 1 here. part 2 here. tagging @today-in-fic.

“Only the Light” won the poll, so it’s now the official title! Yay! Thank you for voting and thanks for all the feedback--I love your comments. This part is the longest yet (and the best imo)--enjoy!!

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She floats outstretched through the sky as if it were the community pool she and Missy used to frequent as children. She tilts her face toward the sun, feels the warmth of it washing over her. Her eyes reflect the brilliant blue sky, mini-oceans in themselves. Her back is to the city, and she’s so high up she can’t hear one bit of the noise on the ground. She hopes this is what heaven is like. If this is heaven, she has nothing to fear.

And then she’s falling, a casualty of gravity. Hell has found her. It always does. This is an unfortunate truth she must live with. The sky races past her and there’s a pit in her stomach so deep she thinks she must be breaking the laws of physics, her body stretching like a rubber band about to snap. Surely she is not a human being anymore. Surely she won’t be by the end of this.

The ground hurdles toward her. She can’t see it, but she knows. She wonders what shape they will find her in, or if she will even be found. She hopes for her family’s sake that she’s in so many pieces they can’t put her back together. It’s easier, she thinks, when the body doesn’t look human. Burying a radiant-looking thirty year old is sad. Burying a mangled mess of a corpse is a relief.

As if on cue, her alarm chirps. She awakes in one piece and punches the alarm, reality whisking away the horror of her dreams. Sweat saturates her silk pajamas, leaving a morning dew of sorts on her sheets. The blankets were thrown off at some point during the night. She does not remember doing this, so she can only assume it was the work of the demonic force in her brain.

Waking up in a puddle of her own sweat has become commonplace since she was returned. The first time the heat was so stifling she thought she must have had a fever that broke, but the mercury thermometer in her bathroom said otherwise. Her body seems to have a mind of itself these days.

For the time being, her mind is still functioning, so she pulls herself out of bed to get ready for work. This routine part of her day is a privilege she relishes. Very rarely does she get to function on autopilot.

It goes like this: first, she slips off her pajamas and changes her underwear. It is at this point without fail that she realizes she hasn’t bought a new pantyset in years, and wouldn’t it be nice if she did? This mental note slips away by the time she buttons her suit jacket and tucks her undershirt into her slacks.

Next, she switches on the bathroom light and performs the typical tasks of self-care--brushing her teeth, washing her face, and whatnot-- that some might find tedious or annoying. For Scully, they are soothing. She spends too much time thinking about aliens and not enough thinking about herself. She’s not sure she believes in either, but god, it would be nice to try.

Veering close to the latest possible time at which she could still expect to beat DC traffic to the office, she brushes her hair (no time for a hundred strokes), dabs some concealer under her eyes, and swipes on her favorite lipstick. No need to go all out; she knows where she stands.

Finally, she opens her closet and stares at the rack of heels. They’re uncomfortable and damn inconvenient for an FBI agent, but Mulder’s tall and she is not. She had a fraction of her current pairs before she met Mulder. No coincidence.

She chooses the tallest pair she owns because she needs the confidence boost. They’re headed to a nursing home in Massachusetts today, so hopefully there will be no running in the woods involved.

She click-click-clicks down the hallway. The scent of strong coffee permeates the air. She turns the corner, and there’s her sister with a pot of coffee and two plates of scrambled eggs. It is seven o’clock in the morning, and they were up at 3am last night. The last thing Scully expects is for her sister to be cognizant, let alone to have cooked.

“Good morning sunshine.” Missy slides a plate over to Scully’s usual spot at the table and pours the piping hot coffee into a ‘Kiss Me, I’m A Doctor’ mug.

Scully pinches herself. No, she’s not dreaming. This is too happy to be one of her dreams anyways.

“This is a surprise,” she says as she takes a seat at the table.

“Well, I fell asleep on the couch and woke up at 5:30. I figured it’s been awhile since someone’s cooked you breakfast.”

Scully takes a sip of the coffee.

“I don’t even cook myself breakfast.”

“Exactly.”

Melissa tops off Scully’s mug.

“Is it strong enough? I couldn’t drink mine without adding about a half a cup of milk, so I figured I must be doing something right.”

Scully is so grateful to be waited on that it could be a milkshake and she wouldn’t complain. It is strong enough though, stronger than the milk and sugar mixture someone calls coffee at the FBI.

“It’s perfect,” she says, meaning it.

“Good. I saw the end of that movie, by the way. You were right, it’s a real snoozefest.”

Scully laughs. “I actually like that movie. That’s why it helps me fall asleep.”

Missy scoffs. “They spend the entire movie pining over each other just for one chaste kiss at the end! Where’s the fun in that?”

“Probably shortly after that chaste kiss.”

Missy smirks, pleased that she’s gotten her sister to make a sex joke at seven o’clock in the morning. She softens her voice--

“I did want to talk to you, though.”

Scully finishes chewing the forkful of scrambled eggs in her mouth.

“I have to leave soon or I’ll be late.”

“Late for what? One of Mulder’s slideshows?”

Scully sits back. Maybe Missy has a point.

“I’m sure you’re tired of my questioning,” Missy says, “so I won’t ask you another thing. Say what you need to say.”

Say what you need to say. So simple, yet so powerful. It occurs to Scully that no one ever gives her this type of shameless permission. They shouldn’t have to, but she’s never been one to talk out of turn. What a relief to have the freedom to speak plainly.

She exhales. She has spent the past weeks playing back the few memories she has of her disappearance--she won’t call it the other word--and trying to decipher what happened to her. She is no closer to figuring it out than she was when Mulder gave her necklace back, but it might help to share what she does remember.

She launches into it, her memories flowing out in one long stream.

“You know, when I was in the hospital, I kept having this vision that I was in a lifeboat. There was a rope tying it to the dock and on the dock were all the people I loved, the people that were around me. You and mom and Mulder and the nurses.”

Melissa listens sympathetically, shocked and relieved that her sister is opening up.

“But I couldn’t move, I couldn’t do anything but sit there in that boat and hope that somehow, the tether wouldn’t snap.”

This is the most vulnerable Missy can remember seeing her sister since the passing of their father. There are a respected few who have witnessed Dana Scully reveal the inner workings of her mind. It’s a rare honor to witness Dana Scully reveal the inner workings of her heart.

Scully continues.

“And then it did snap, and I had...I can only describe it as a near-death experience. Dad was there...He was in his uniform with all his medals and he told me that he loved me and—that we would be together again, but not yet.”

Missy nods along.

“So I guess...that kept me from going. That’s how I knew I had to stay.”

“Wow,” Missy breathes.

“From then on, I could hear everything you guys were saying. I heard you and mom telling me that I was below the criteria of my living will and I was trying to give you a sign…”

Her voice breaks.

“I was so scared you would pull the plug on me.”

“Oh my god, Dana.” Missy engulfs her in a hug. “I am so sorry.”

Scully breathes into her sister’s neck. Her hair smells like the strawberry shampoo they used when they were children. She wonders if Missy still uses it, decides that now is not the time to bring that up. Instead, she lets go of the hug first.

“I started thinking, if I am below the criteria of my living will, maybe that’s the right thing to do. Maybe if I ever truly wake up, I’ll be so damaged I won’t be able to work for the FBI or have anything resembling a happy life.”

She sighs. “And you and mom said your goodbyes, and I was thankful, actually, that I got to hear them because so many people don’t and you just...never know with my profession.”

She bites her lip to keep from crying.

“And then sometime later I heard Mulder come in, and his wasn’t a goodbye. He touched my hand—I could feel it but I couldn’t respond—and he told me he was there. And I could feel his sadness, but I could also feel his hope. And that was all I needed, was hope.”

“He gave you the strength to wake up,” Missy says, partly as a question.

“Or the courage to.”

Melissa considers this. She remembers how solemn she felt going to Fox’s apartment that night, delivering the news that her sister was weakening. This must be how nurses feel when they tell loved ones to say their goodbyes, she thought at the time. When he said he wasn’t able to go see Dana in the hospital, she was furious. How can you be so naive? she thought. Are you so afraid of pain you refuse to feel your own feelings? She realizes now this sounds like something she might say to her sister.

Melissa decides not to mention her involvement in any of this. After all, she hadn’t succeeded in convincing Fox to go to the hospital. That was his own choice. Instead, she says--

“He was really looking out for you, you know. He was a soldier for your cause.”

The edges of Scully’s lips turn up the slightest bit.

“I don’t doubt it. Mulder is nothing if not a good soldier.”

Melissa thinks back on meeting Fox. She said that Dana had talked to her, that her soul was there. He didn’t believe her.

“Fox was exactly what you said he would be,” she tells her sister, “and somehow I was still surprised by the sheer force of his determination.”

Scully chuckles.

“Well, I don’t exaggerate these things. If anything, I downplay them.”

“No kidding.”

Melissa wets her lips, letting silence rest comfortably at the table with them.

“You’re really lucky you know, to have him as a partner.”

Scully nods.

“I know.”

And she does.

#the x-files #the x files #txf #fan fic #fan fiction #missy & scully fic #only the light fic #mine

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cozycryptidcorner · 4 years

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Enoch the Troll

Here’s March’s patreon voted for poll story! Hope ya’ll enjoy.

There’s blood seeping from the wound on your leg, despite your best attempts to apply pressure. You swallow thickly, trying to stumble your way through the denseness of the forest, one of your hands busy holding a crumpled mess of rags against the bullet hole, the other working to keep your balance. The scent of gunpowder is thick in the hot summer air, you feel suffocated by it, head dizzy with the need for breath and blood. You almost trip over the corpse of a fallen comrade, though you don’t know her name, and you send a feverish prayer up to anyone who is listening that her path to the afterlife will be merciful and swift.

Again, you stumble, hearing someone scream about the advancement of the enemy line. Shaking, you lift the rags off your leg, just to check to see if the bleeding has stopped yet, but there’s still a trickle forming. Letting out a soft, frustrated breath, you turn to see another soldier running, dodging the trees, in retreat. Your voice is parched, cracking when you try to call out for aid, but no one comes, and just beyond, you see the bright red colors of the opposing forces. With a layer of sweat on your forehead, you stumble, back hitting the front of a rock formation jutting out from the earth.

You let yourself slide down, leaning your head back, trying to keep your leg as straight as possible. You’ve already lost your pistol somewhere; otherwise, you’d most likely put it up to your temple and fire. To be a wounded soldier, slowly bleeding out on the battlefield is one thing, but to then be captured by the opposing army? You know the torture methods often used on either side.

Slowly, as to not aggravate the wound, you scoot over, feeling the tiny, pebble-sized bullet rubbing up against your raw muscles in the process. There, almost hidden by the bushes, is a crack running up from the ground, large enough to likely fit your body, and small enough to hopefully not be noticeable. As you hear the victorious, leering shouts coming up from the west, you carefully angle your body, adrenaline roaring through your blood, trying to be precise instead of fast.

The coolness of the rock brings a soft, balmy relief to your fevering skin, and you manage to slide into the small cave just as a twig snaps in a location too close for your comfort. The actual interior is blessedly bigger than the entrance would have you believe, so you have room to settle yourself down, leg limply laying against the stone, and you’re so close to fainting, you can feel your vision fizzling in and out of focus. Still, hearing footsteps tromping around the forest is the last fraying string keeping your consciousness from falling, and you find yourself having to scoot backward.

Again, the cave seems so much longer than when you first though, because even though you have retreated far enough away from the entrance to the point where the light is almost too dim to see. Or maybe the blood loss is just messing with your vision. Voices, there are voices faintly talking, you find yourself managing to move further back, your locomotion jerking, silent, but odd, pushing against the ground with your uninjured leg, one hand still on your wound, the other used for balance and thrust. It goes fine until you reach behind you again and find nothing, and just as suddenly, you’re slipping, falling, and landing on the dirty stone a few yards down.

You manage not to make too much noise, despite the fact you’d like to let out a scream a string of expletives that would call on the four horsemen. It’s pitch black, you can only see the faintest hint of daylight on the ledge you came from, but it’s much too high for you to even reach even if you somehow find the strength and tenacity to stand. Your face is soaked with your quiet sobbing, though you manage not to let out more than a couple of hiccuping squeaks. Still, you wonder if it would even matter if you made noise. Maybe you should, trying alone in a cave might be worse than whatever would happen to you outside.

You don’t know how long you lay here, limp, exhausted, face up against the unforgiving stone. The faint glimmer slowly dims, the only sign that night has come, but there is nothing for you to do about it. You don’t think that you broke any bones during the fall; however, at this point, your body has seemingly given up on life. You’ve long stopped crying out of pure determination to not dehydrate, like that’s not the least of your worries, and you must be drifting in and out of consciousness because of the few lucid dreams slogging through the front of your skull.

Footsteps. At first, you figure it’s another one of your lucid dreams because surely no one is down here with you. A softer sound follows, like someone setting a bundle of fabric down, and then… then you feel the presence of another person, waking up fully from whatever partially catatonic state you were in. You don’t know what you should do, scream? Beg for help? You can’t even see what they look like, so you don’t even know if you should be bracing for the worst.

Letting out a little whimper, you try to scootch away from their prying hands, which have taken to patting down your body, but they compensate, following your movement, gently pressing down against your chest area, squeezing different places on your arms and legs. When they come down to the bullet wound, pain springs up from the nerves, a hot, pinching thrust of rippling sharpness running through your body. You don’t even try to hold yourself back, you have to let out a choking sob, the air pushing up from your lungs as tears burst into your eyes.

“Ah,” the voice says, almost under the speaker’s breath, in full understanding.

You’re shaking now, though you don’t know why. All the muscles in your body seem to want to convulse, your teeth chattering, and while you’d like to talk, say something among the lines of who are you, you can’t seem to get your tongue to corporate. Something’s tied around your leg, you can barely feel it, even though you’re certain it’s done tightly. You don’t even think you could wiggle your toes, it seems futile to try to because you can’t see.

There’s another sound, like a blanket being snapped out of its folded state, and you are slowly rolled over on top of some kind of thin but coarse material. The movement sends all sorts of pain bursting through the wound you know you have, and the ones you didn’t even realize were inflicted in the fall. You must pass out because a different kind of blackness overtakes everything, and when you seem to be able to actually think again, your back is on a soft, plush mattress.

You can’t sit up, the muscles and bones of your body seemingly just give up. It’s quiet, save for some rustling coming from the other side, and you can hear your body quake and moan as you slowly breathe. There’s a pillow underneath your head, propping you up slightly, though the room is as pitch as the hole you came from. The wound on your leg still throbs, though it’s a different kind of pain, like fresh wasp stings on a bitterly cold morning, and when you manage to shift your legs slightly, you don’t feel the sharp stab of pain as a pea-sized object shifts.

Someone is in the room with you, you can feel their presence the same way you feel the oppressive darkness. Trying to keep your voice from trembling, you call out, though quietly, still in fear of being caught by the opposing army. “Who- who’s there?”

There’s a quiet stirring, fabric folding together as someone moves, and you feel them approach the bed, slowly, though still staying a distance from where you lay. “Who are you?”

“I am-” you’re not in the position to make demands, so you try to quell your desperate tone. “I am no one of consequence, sir.”

“I see.”

“Can you?” The wound does nothing to quell your (or perhaps horridly dull, given the circumstances) wit, though you are quick to inwardly cringe at yourself. Before you can even apologize for your unbecoming behavior, he responds.

“No.”

You let a beat pass, then ask, almost timidly, “perhaps lighting a candle might help?”

The voice lets out a quiet chuckle, then says, “I’m afraid that would do nothing to bring back my sight.”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

“I apologize!” You’ve been awake for only a few moments, and you’ve just insulted your host, who has, for all you know, done this all out of the very pure kindness of his heart. “My god, I didn’t realize- I’m so sorry-”

“No need for such formalities,” he doesn’t sound upset, almost amused. “You did not know, and I do not consider this an ailment or curse.”

His knuckles brush against your forehead and cheek, checking for signs of fever, then retract. You hear some more movement, he’s walking to another side of the room, and… well, he’s doing something, but you don’t know what.

Unsure of where to go from there, you try, “th-thank you for giving me your aid.”

“I’d rather not have a corpse rotting where the best picks of mushrooms are grown.”

“I- um, understand, that would significantly lower their quality.” You wait, again, for the silence to wash away your statement, then try again. “Who… if it would please you to tell me… are you?”

A pause. You think he puts down whatever he’s holding. “I am like you, I suppose. Someone of no consequence.”

“A skilled one, though,” you take a gander, “because I’m not dead.”

“You’re not dead, yet,” he reminds, “a many manner of things might go wrong from here.”

You think that over. “I have faith in you.”

It sounds like he chokes, though he tries to cover it up. After a moment spent regaining his composure, he says, “then I suppose I will try not to disappoint.”

You settle back down, finally relaxing against the plushness of the bed, eyes slowly drooping with exhaustion. It’s not that you trust him, specifically, but at this point? You have no choice. You’re in no place to walk out of wherever you are, not in this darkness, and not with that slowly healing leg. You might as well hope that fate has dropped you in the best possible hands for recovery and try your best to do so.

With the lack of light, it’s sort of difficult to gauge when you fall asleep, versus when you fully wake back up. Moving helps, lifting your hand to slowly smack yourself on the forehead gives you a strong enough sting to conclude that you are, in fact, awake and alive. You listen for a few moments, trying to discern where exactly your medic is, then call out, quietly, “hello?”

Nothing.

You swallow thickly. Even though you don’t fully trust your rescuer, his absence isn’t still something that you find… well, unpleasant. Sitting alone in the dark isn’t what you will categorize as a good time, either, and since you can’t move your injured leg, so it’s not like you can get up and start looking for him. Or even explore to make sure you’re not being held by some kind of mad scientist.

You try to relax again, letting your muscles unwind, trying to even out your breathing. The silence is deafening; you’re used to having countless neighbors, either in the army encampments, or the town apartment you rent. There’s always someone up, no matter the hour, stomping around on the floor above you, having a passionate love affair in a nearby tent, or just being a clumsy drunk on the side of the street. You’re not wholly certain how to handle this… quiet.

Again, you must fall asleep, because you have to slog your way back inside your brain when you hear a soft clatter, like you’ve been gently pulled in from a void. You try to raise your head, finding your neck stiff with soreness, but still mobile enough to lift off the pillow, and after blinking as hard as possible, you realize that it’s still pitch dark. An odd detail, you suppose, because that would mean that the room you are in has no windows… and most buildings you know don’t exactly lack that feature. Could you be in the basement, then?

“Is it you?” You ask, softly, afraid that it might not be.

“Yes,” the answer is calm, and not sharing your tense quietness.

“Do you know the time?”

There’s a quiet pause, and you hear footsteps slowly step over to another end of the room. “Late afternoon,” he says, “but you have been asleep for three days.”

“Oh.” You hadn’t realized how long you had been resting. Tentatively, you reach down to your trousers, finding the bottom half of the injured leg torn away, starting a few inches above the wound. The bullet hole in your leg is wrapped in a few tight layers of bandages. Reaching back up to your stomach, you pat at the cloth, finding your undershirt still on, though the rest of your garments, your socks, your outerwear, gone. Well, it does kind of make you feel a tad bit more comfortable to realize that he hadn’t changed you himself, even if he wouldn’t be able to see.

“I suppose that you are hungry.”

“I… am,” you don’t want to admit it, because you feel like more of a burden than you already are.

“You will start with broth,” there’s a muted poking noise, “as to not overwhelm your already struggling system. Solids will come after a few days, but you must rest in the meantime.”

You hadn’t really thought that you would be spending that long here, though the idea isn’t exactly what you would call… appealing. “But- but is it safe for you to keep me here?”

There’s a dull clack, you realize he must have dropped something. “I- as long as you don’t make too much noise, and you don’t leave this room, we both will be fine.”

“So the king’s army has made advancements, then.” You lay your head back on the pillow, feeling a creeping sense of dread crawling through your stomach. “Really- sir, you have already done enough. If one of them finds me here, you might be liable for execution.”

“Oh-” the odd tenseness is suddenly gone from his voice, “I don’t think they will specifically be the problem in this situation.”

“Have they not overrun the town?”

“Not… not this town.”

You don’t know where you are, then. Maybe the small village closer to the mountains? “Are they approaching, though?”

“No.”

“Oh.” You think for a moment, trying to come up with the local geography, but you don’t exactly know much about the area. “Do you have a name?”

“Enoch.” The way he says his own name is lovely, the end hard and brutal.

“Enoch,” you echo, closing your eyes to commit it to memory. “Where are we?”

Another pause, then, slowly, he says, “... Brekka.”

“Brekka?” You haven’t heard of it. “Is that far from Sugar Creek?”

He mutters something under his breath, then speaks up, “no, I suppose not, if it is close to where I found you.”

“But it’s-”

“Enough with the questions,” he sounds almost exhausted, and the footsteps approach, “hold out your hands.”

“Why.” In the pitch black, and having heard those words before, in a not so innocent setting, you are suspicious.

“Because I’m giving you a mug of broth.”

You let out a puff of breath, doing as he says, and soon enough, there’s a warm, stone-like object placed in your hands. Gradually, carefully, he helps you sit up, packing some more pillows and blankets behind your back to not strain your spine. The broth is literally the tastiest thing you’ve ever had in your entire life, though maybe you’re a bit biased given the circumstances, and he has to physically stop you from downing that thing like a pint of beer on the night before your day off.

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” he chides, calloused hands covering yours to keep you from tipping the thing all the way over your mouth. The bed shifts with his weight as he leans against it, his leg brushing up against yours. “Sip- sip, god damn it.”

You let out a frustrated grunt, but you obey. Once he decides that you can be trusted to handle it on your own, he steps away, and you’re left to sullenly hold the mug on your own, taking a loud, pointed slurp every now and then. “Do you have a family?”

“We all come from somewhere.”

You roll your eyes. “But now, though, do you live with people? Are there others nearby? Should I be extra quiet, or can I be as loud as I want when you poke around my leg again?”

“Oh.” At your clarification, he seems less… tense? Defensive? “That isn’t a high priority, but I suppose that people will come to investigate if you do it continuously.”

“Do people usually scream when under your care?” Should you be feeling nervous now?

“I’m an apothecary trained in field medicine,” he says, “screaming customers come in from time to time.”

“Huh.” That explains some things, like how you no longer feel like you’re on death’s doorstep, along with the absence of the bullet in your leg. “You’re a good one, too.”

“Not really,” he sounds almost embarrassed, “my patient is just too stubborn to die.”

“And here I’ve been told my stubbornness is my least attractive quality.”

“No,” he says, acting surprised, “truly?”

You finish your soup, then hand the mug back to him when he comes from it, and lay yourself back down on the bed. Even though you have only been up for a few minutes, you’re almost numb with exhaustion at this point, and you’re already down to take another nap. The heat of the broth does nothing to help you stay awake, either, because, at this point, you feel like you’re the perfect temperature to lull off.

“I have to go,” he says, “I must help with the clinic.”

“Mm,” you mumble, only half awake, “say hi to them for me.”

“I... probably will not do that,” he’s amused, you can tell, “but I will be back tonight to check on you.”

“Okay.”

The void embraces you again, dragging you down its murky depths like a long spited lover. You don’t know how long you stay asleep for, only that waking up is an effort you avoid for quite some time. A part of your brain seems to perk up long before everything else, letting a memory of the battlefield before the actual shots began firing play out in sequence. You don’t want to see it again, but even as the lucid part of your mind tries to shake it off, it sticks, starting again from the beginning.

The face of the girl you saw dead smiles as she loads her gun. One of your friends makes some kind of weird sex joke, his voice echoing around your ears like they’re a deep valley. The captain looking off in the distance, a worry crinkling in her eyes and forehead. Blood. Everywhere. Dripping from the trees like a steady rainfall.

“Wake up.”

You choke, trying to jerk arms away from whoever has you, finding a pitch room, your lungs unable to keep up with the demand with the rest of your body.

“Stop- stop thrashing, you’re fine-”

It takes you a long second to fully calm down, gasping, body trembling like a leaf in a thunderstorm. “Enoch? I- I um,”

“Hush.” A hand comes up to pet your hair away from your sweaty face. “A nightmare, nothing more. Give yourself a moment to recollect.”

You lay on the bed, limp, hot, a pain throbbing in the back of your eyes. There’s a strange queasiness in your stomach, the same kind of churning nausea that follows a night of heavy drinking. Carefully, you swallow, wishing you had some point in the room to stare at to steady your thrashing stomach.

“You have a fever,” he says, as though that weren’t obvious. “Hopefully, with a few hours of sleep, it will slowly ebb away.”

“Is it, do you think it’s because-”

“Your leg?” His hands reach over to the bullet hole, gently pressing against the bandaged flesh. “Most likely. Your skin is puffy with inflammation.”

You tense, fear taking your stomach in its grip, and squeezing, “will it- will it have to be amputated?”

“Not if I have anything to do about it.” He stands, the mattress returning from its altered state, and he walks over to another end of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“Stay still,” he says, “I’m fetching supplies from the shop, I won’t be long.”

So you do as he says, as though you might have the energy to accomplish anything else. Even though you are just… so… so tired, you don’t seem to have the energy to actually go to sleep. The pain pulsing up from your leg keeps you up, slowly blinking tears as you lay, limply, on your side, trying to steady your breathing. Every so often, your muscles twitch, without your control, and you have to let out a little whimpering sob from the pressure, clutching the knitted blankets like a lifeline.

An eternity or so later, Enoch returns, you hear his footsteps... paired with someone else. The door creaks open, and suddenly there's a light, but it's too bright for you to see anything beyond it.

"Oh, god, Enoch, what did you do?" The voice is unfamiliar, not cold, but filled with shock, which you suppose in your fevered state is a fair sentiment to have.

Enoch doesn't answer right away, but you can hear his movements hopping from one end of the room to the other. "What needed to be done."

"Stupid boy," the strangers mumbles, just barely loud enough for you to hear. She touches the bandages on your leg, unwrapping them and sucking in her breath when the wound is finally revealed. It hurts, everything hurts, you just want to be put out of your misery like an injured racehorse.

“I don’t want to be awake," you mumble miserably, everything washed in browns and grays.

“I know,” Enoch’s setting some things down on a table, “I brought something for that, too.”

A moment later, he’s back at your side, propping you up enough for you to swallow down a thick, sickly sweet syrup, one that leaves your mouth almost stinging as it goes down, the familiar bite of liquor coming back only in the aftertaste. Once you’re back down, you feel two sets of hands prodding at your wound, and though you know their movements are gentle, that does nothing to stop the tears from spilling out from your eyes. You try to steady your breathing, but find yourself spiraling down an even darker tunnel.

Are you asleep? Or have you died and gone to hell? You don’t know. The pain slowly bleeds away, and you wonder if this is what dying feels like, or if Enoch is gradually managing to heal the wound. An emptiness folds around you, like a cold, draining comfort, one that you are quick to grasp onto and hold. The heat flows away, drip by drip, a slow, arduous process, one that you feel like will never end. A part of you hopes that this is the end because at least then, you won’t have to feel any more of this pain… and as a soldier, you think you can appreciate that.

But you wake back up. At least, you think you’re awake again, the dark makes it awfully hard to tell. You cough, though your chest doesn’t seem to rattle with infection, which you suppose is a plus. There’s a throbbing pain in your leg, still, but it’s less prominent, like a dull echo of what it once was. There’s an unfamiliar sting to it, too and after prodding the area with your hands, you find that the full leg is still attached, thank god. Letting out a breath of relief, you test your boundaries, finding that even though you can wriggle your foot around, the actual leg is pretty useless.

“You’re awake?” It’s Enoch, his voice coming from below the foot of the bed, as though he’s been resting against the side, sitting on the floor.

“Yeah.” Your voice is gravelly, dry.

“What’s my name?” He asks, standing back up, the soft rustle of fabric following his movements.

“Um… Enoch?” The way he asks makes you doubt yourself.

“Yes,” he sounds relieved, “you’ve been delirious over the past few days. I just wanted to make sure.”

“Oh,” you say, a tad sheepishly, “was it bad?”

“Not… really,” he sounds like he’s trying to not cause you panic, though, “but drastic measures had to be taken. Not for the delirium, for the injury.”

Again, you’re checking to make sure the leg is still there. Are you experiencing a ghost limb? You can’t even look, so you don’t know, is this what having a ghost limb feels like? “Did you- um, is it-”

“I had to call in a second doctor, one with eyes,” he reaches over, messing with the bandages on your leg. “I missed a small metal fragment, but she was able to remove it.”

You reach over to his hand, moving it down ever so slightly to make sure that the leg is still there, through his perspective. “My leg… it’s still there?”

“Yes, luckily,” he says, awkwardly patting your hand. “And it seems like you’re going to keep it, the other doctor was optimistic, given the circumstances.”

“What does that mean, given the circumstances?”

“Oh,” he tries to brush it off, “she wasn’t… well, thrilled that I have you here, which, given the nature of things-”

“I understand.” If the neighboring villages are being overrun by the opposing army, you’re going to be putting these people in danger. “I can leave.”

“No,” Enoch says sharply, “not until you can walk.”

“Come on,” you’re getting exasperated, the guilt beginning to nibble away at your conscious, “I don’t want to put you in any danger. You and your doctor friend have already done more than enough for me, so-”

“Absolutely not.” He’s not giving you any room to argue. “You can’t even stand on your own, there is no way you can leave and survive.”

“I can,” you try to defend yourself.

“Then get up and walk to the other side of the room.”

You sit up, quietly, surprised that he would even offer the challenge and manage to swing your uninjured leg onto the cold, stone floor. The twisting movement sends a shockwave up your pelvis, and even though it isn’t nearly as terrible as even a few days ago, it’s still enough for you to take in a deep, sharp breath. “I can’t even see where the other side of the room is.”

“I will guide you.”

Slowly, but surely, you begin to maneuver your injured leg over the side of the mattress, trying your damnedest to keep from making any pained noises. Once you manage to slide down to the floor, you test your weight on it, finding that you shouldn’t even shift, because fuck, that smarts. You don’t cry, though, you think you’ve cried enough tears to last you years to come.

“Having trouble?” Enoch has the audacity to ask.

You grit your teeth and try to take a step forward, failing spectacularly, pitching face-first onto the ground. If Enoch didn’t have the foresight to reach over and grab for your undershirt, he’d probably have a broken nose on his hands, too. He helps you back up, lifting your injured leg over the mattress himself because you just can’t seem to get your muscles to work. “Ow. Ow, ow, ow-”

“Oh, please,” he says, sounding peeved, “if you had just listened, we wouldn’t be here now, would we?”

Grumbling, you settle back down onto the bed, and once you promise not to try walking again without his help, he hands over another mug of broth. As you slowly sip your meal, you try to listen to his movements, and then try to discern what he’s up to. This has to be some kind of room that holds a purpose more than ‘guest bedroom’ because he always seems to be tinkering with something or another when you’re awake.

You go in and out of sleep, waking up to eat and drink, resting away whatever infection had festered in your wound. Every day you feel a little better, and though once you’re not at death’s door, you realize you might be somewhere worse; boredom. Laying limply in the pitch darkness isn’t exactly an excellent way to pass the long hours of healing, especially when you’re lucid enough to sense every passing moment in time. Enoch’s company, when you have it, is the highlight of your days, but he has things to do beyond check your wounds and tinker around the room.

“Is this like your bedroom or something?” You ask because you don’t want to be stealing his bed.

“No,” he says, and then when you make a frustrated sound, he adds, “an office of sorts, I guess. I keep records and extra equipment in here.”

“You have an office with a bed?”

“Sometimes, I’d like to just lay down if I have a late night.”

You let out a laugh, which turns into a cough, and you have to calm yourself down before saying anything else. “I’m sorry, you just… don’t feel like actually going to your room?”

“Sometimes,” he says, defensively, “or sometimes I stow an injured person away up here.”

“Huh.” You take another sip of broth. “So, you do this often?”

“Well, not too often. Not a lot of injured soldiers fall into my mushroom patch.”

“Hm.” That makes you feel warm inside. “I’m surprised. Are you sure you’re not hiding some other soldier in the downstairs cupboard?”

“Would that make you upset if I was?”

“Oh, deeply, darling, and here I thought we were bonding.”

There’s a harsh puff of hair exhaling from his lungs, and you realize that he’s laughing. “I’m so sorry, love, that one means absolutely nothing to me.”

“No, no, I’m done. I’m leaving you.”

“No, I beg of you. There must be some way to earn your forgiveness, some deed to win back your favor.”

You actually think it over, folding your hands together, staring into the darkness, and you realize that there must be something you can request. “Come here.”

He steps over, you can hear the shoes moving against the stone. “Yes?”

“I don’t mean to be demanding, or anything,” you say softly, “but I don’t suppose you have a candle or lantern laying around anywhere?”

“Those aren’t usually things I keep on hand, no,” Enoch responds. “But I suppose you’d like to be able to see for a little while.”

“I just… feel almost like I’m going insane.” Then you remember the bit you were doing. “And I bet you give that whore in the cupboard all the candles in the world.”

Again, he laughs, quietly, and then pauses. “I’m sure you understand that I don’t really keep candles lying around, but… I will do my best to find you something.”

You feel relief running through your body. “Really?”

“Yes. Sip the rest of your broth and go to sleep.”

“Thank you.” You feel dazed, leaning back down against your pillow palace, drinking the broth as quickly as possible without calling any negative attention on yourself. When you hand the mug back, you breathe a quiet, “thank you, again.”

“Don’t thank me, yet.”

But he’s true to his word because when you wake back up, there’s a dim flicker almost blinding you when you slowly open your eyes. You blink rapidly, you almost can’t fucking believe it, Enoch really came through for you, and you spend what feels like an hour staring at the little flame, hypnotized by the light. Then, just to be sure, you look at your leg, seeing that everything is still attached, and breathe a sigh of relief. You reach over to the bed table it’s on and bring it over to your bandages, checking out the damage yourself.

The craftsmanship on the wrapping is top-notch, you don’t think Enoch could be lying to you about his skillset. This, actually, has to be the best care you’ve been under since you enlisted. Not to bash any of the field medics or anything, god knows how much effort they put into their work, but again, they can only do so much in the face of the horrors of injuries they have to fix. Enoch only has to deal with you. Allegedly.

Gradually, you begin to take in the room. You’re… underground, you think, which makes sense with the lack of windows, and you guess that for Enoch, it’s probably not that big of a deal to have his office down where no light would reach it. There are… shelves, yes, and a large table you assume he uses as a desk, with unfamiliar objects placed meticulously about, you believe that they’re probably his apothecary instruments. Scales and the like. You don’t know.

You can’t see what is stocked in the shelves, the light doesn’t reach that far, even with your eyes more sensitive to the darkness than you’ve been in your life. Careful, you look at your leg again, then test your weight on it by leaning forward. Ha. Yeah. You won’t be walking on that leg today, that’s for sure, so you can’t go up and snoop, which is unfortunate. You’re almost dying to know what Enoch gets up to while he’s tinkering around, but you suppose that it can wait until you’re able to start hobbling around on your own.

There’s a small book at the bedside, of which you’re hesitant to pick up, until you remember that Enoch would have absolutely no use for it. Carefully, you look over the pages, finding decorative illustrations covering the pages, along with small scribbles of text in a language you can’t even begin to identify. Still, the pictures themselves, all lovingly drawn in inks of different colors and hues, show a sort of journal, you think, categorizing different plants that are wholly unfamiliar. Blue-capped mushrooms, violet and pink speckled lichen, and an oddly petaled flower blooming in a star-shaped pattern.

You’re so enthralled in the book, you almost don’t notice the candle slowly dripping out of existence, the wax melting down to a puddle as the wick steadily burns out. For the last few moments of light, you stare at the flame, watching it flicker, hoping that it might never go out, and then you are pitched into blackness once again. Enoch returns a while later, you hear him come in through the door, his footsteps familiar enough that you would know if it were some other interloper. You’re still awake, staring at the area where the candle still is, and you let him set his things down before you try to speak.

“Thank you for the candle. And the book.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed,” Enoch is tinkering over in the direction of the table, “I figured you might have wanted something to keep you occupied.”

“Where did you get the book? It looks handprinted, and the illustrations are absolutely beautiful.” You don’t want to ask for another candle, but now you’re dying to know what Enoch looks like.

“I…” Enoch pauses, trying to come up with the words, “my parents were also apothecaries, and they would keep journals of their finds.”

Were, he’s speaking in the past tense, and so you’re quick to deflect from that conversation. In your panic, though, you immediately jump back to your original train of thought, which is you’d like to see him. “Do you know what I look like?”

“I don’t know what anything looks like.”

“Not that, I mean how you see things by touching them? Have you touched my face? Do you know what I look like?”

“Oh,” he’s quiet, now, “I have, when I first found you, just out of curiosity.”

“And?”

“And? You have a face. A nose. Eyes.... and a forehead.” A pause. “With a chin.”

You start laughing, and then immediately feel bad. “Do you want to do it again?”

“Do I want to touch your face again?”

“I wouldn’t mind it.”

For a moment, you’re worried that he won’t even respond, or that you’ve made things too awkward, but he pads closer. You can sit up all by yourself now, with no mountains of pillows to support your back, and you feel the warmth of his body as he leans against the bed, almost hesitant. His hands are warm, and calloused, and able to completely cover your face should he choose, though he’s more conservative than that.

Slowly, he starts with your eyes, gingerly running his thumbs over and around, gradually moving to your nose, where he seems to take an interest in its shape. His movements are careful, but also calculated, mapping out your cheeks, then your ears, his fingers traveling down to trace the outline of your chin. He goes up again, feeling out the area of your forehead, his thumbs focusing on that specific area more than the rest, before running his fingers through your hair.

While he’s focusing on your face, you bring your fingers up to touch his, gently cupping the edge of his chin. He flinches, though only slightly, but relaxes and lets you press your fingers against his face. His jawline is sharp, pointed, though you don’t know how to translate the things you feel into sight. Slowly, you bring your fingertips up to the side of his face, finding a prominent pair of cheekbones, moving up, and then swooping down into his jaw. His nose has a bump on the ridge, sliding downward into almost a hook. When you move upwards to his forehead, he lets out a quick, shuddering breath and pulls back.

“Sorry,” he says, muted, quiet, and moves back closer, “I suppose I’m not used to being on the receiving end of that.”

“We can stop-”

“No,” you feel his hands cover yours, leading them back up to his face, “this- this needs to be done.”

“If you want it,” you say, moving your hands back up, finding something… protruding from his forehead. You let out a little gasp, unbidden, pulling one hand away like it was burned, but place it back. It’s… it has to be a horn, you think, finding a matching on just above his other eyebrow. Two horns. Enoch has two horns. You’re silent, pondering what this could mean, when you notice that he is just as quiet, with an added layer of tenseness trembling in his skin.

He’s scared.

You take in a deep breath, wrapping your hands around the horns, finding they curve up and around, like a ram’s, and you say, “well, this is new.”

Enoch lets out a huff of air in a way that sounds like relief.

“Have- were you born with them, or?”

“Born.”

“Huh.” You don’t really know what to say to that, and all things aside… Enoch is kind. He never made you feel unsafe. And, for god’s sake, he pulled you out of death’s door when he didn’t really need to. “Interesting.”

“I have-” he hesitates, “another candle if you would like to see me.”

“I would if you wouldn’t mind.”

The bed shifts as he moves, wandering to the other side of the room. There’s a harsh click, and a bloom of soft, yellow light slowly grows to maturity. You can see his figure even from this far away, you suppose your eyes are so used to the darkness that you can see far better than usual with even the barest hint of a flame. He’s tall, remarkably so, which is something you had sort of known, judging by his movements, but seeing it is something else.

As he comes closer, you recognize the features you had felt on his face, the shape of the nose, the slope of his cheekbones. He sets the candle on the bed table, gently, and looks over in your direction, though his milky white eyes don’t seem to focus on anything, least of all you. His hair is long, dark, trailing behind his head in a slow mess of curls, his skin a dark, almost purple, but gray. Again, you raise your hands up to his face, feeling out his features, though following your fingers with your eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” you softly come to your conclusions, and you’re correct. Even if someone were repulsed by his inhuman elements- and you’re not- ignoring the skin color, pointed ears, and horns, his face is still of a remarkably symmetrical shape. And, best of all, above all, he is kind.

Enoch seems so off guard with your statement that he can’t seem to find his voice for a moment. “I- um, thank you.”

“No, thank you.” You take his hand and press it up to where your leg is injured, though the usual sharp pain of being prodded is muted by your body’s steady efforts to heal. “I would have died if it weren’t for you.”

“Yes.” The fact he doesn’t even put any effort in denying it shows how terrible the wound really was when you first arrived. “Most likely.”

You roll your eyes and bring his face close, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for saving me.”

His body freezes against your mouth, and as he pulls back, his brow is furrowed in confusion, like he can’t quite process what you just did. “You- your welcome.”

#exophilia #troll #troll/reader #monster boyfriend

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kirby-the-gorb · 3 years

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reply roundup!

highlights for the past couple weeks:

@shegosato wrote another image description [here], for mining kirby, and @pranque wrote an image description for kirby at his computer [here]! thank you both! <3 all you folks who’ve so kindly contributed your time to add image descriptions since I’m not currently able to are honestly super important and appreciated.

there are also new stickers! etsy link is [here].

on the [last roundup]:

@spageddie28 said: THE GORB NOTICED ME 😳😳🥺🥺💖💖 #all praise the gorb

@askluckyandfriends said: I got noticed too :D

yes!!! that’s why I do these roundups, I love seeing all the fun tags and replies everyone leaves for me, and this way I get to acknowledge them!

@your-local-neighbourhood-kat said: The hug would make both of us feel better 🥺🥺🥺

even though he’s got little arms I bet kirby is the best at hugging. (I hope whatever’s on your mind eases soon.)

@shegosato said: i love ur kirbys they deserve an id <3 hope ur year's been good so far op!

aww, thank you! I know writing good image descriptions takes genuine effort (which is why I don’t do it myself like I should, I’m sorry TnT ) and deserves sincere recognition at the very least! (I’d love to just properly compensate someone to caption all of them as they go up someday, but it will take a while to afford. I will be sure to put out a call for interested parties once I get there!)

on [keyboard]:

@zer0cracy said: Freddy Mer-kirby

ohhh what a good pun! he’s even got the sparkles to match lol

also to the person who tagged it metal gear, I see you. I appreciate you.

on [train]:

@papioligoat said: Look at this gorb go. Lad vibin.

he’s where he Belongs.

@rinnyhere said: I want to ride an endless train and just sleep. tired of thoughts.

ohh that sounds so peaceful. just ride the train forever. highest quality naps.

on [miner]:

@macro-microcosm said: I also lost my part-time work haha. please donate to this artist! they’re so delightful and make such lovely work. they’re at this every. single. day.

aw that sucks! I hope things are at least relatively stable for now. (and thank you so much for your kind tags! I haven’t missed a day since I started in june 2018 :> )

@jupiterlandings said: he’s mining to get his webkinz crown of wonder

unfortunately I don’t know anything about webkinz so I can’t fully appreciate the joke but he’s clearly working very hard towards his goals and I support him!

@shegosato said: op thats a cute easter egg. also hope uve doing well! mayhaps a post abt commissions or donations will help?

I was very happy with myself when I came up with it lol, and I think that is a good idea! I already put out new stickers this month, but maybe I will finally figure out sticker commissions or just advertise kofi commissions at the same rate as the patreon tier.

on the [sticker poll]:

@liongerudothesilly said: I do not have Twitter, but I vote Fancy Dresses please! If you'll take a commented vote!

I just want to make sure you know your vote was seen and counted! (and I secretly wanted fancy dresses to win too lol, but even counting your vote and mine it still fell a little short. maybe I will just do it next time without asking! :v )

on [sweep]:

@aggron-rocks said: what a responsible orb

one does not become a gorb on virtue of cuteness alone. good orbs also help with chores when they can!

on [valentines stickers]:

@insertusername77 said: These are so good. At the rate things are going, Kirby's gonna be my Valentine this year

I imagine kirby would love to be your valentine. :> (he may not be very reliable at giving you chocolate, but I think he’s pretty okay at making bouquets from supermarket flowers!)

@here-comes-de-custard said: im going to cry these are so cute

@osohey said: joy and love and happyness and joy

@leolithe said: !!!!!!!!!!!!!! great arts!

I don’t always have anything to say in reply so they don’t always end up in the roundups but I see all the tags people leave and I always love tags like these, I love it when my art can make people happy <3

@legendarykerfuffle said: all i need for valentines is kirb

honestly same lol, my partner knows this and often manages to find cute little kirby plushes to give me :v

on [sumikko]:

@virovac said: Decided to look up Summikko Gurashi [screencap of character description for “penguin?” that says “am I even a penguin? penguin has no confidence. in the past, there might have been a plate on penguin’s head...”]

penguin is just like that! (they were a kappa rather than a regular penguin, which is why they are green and like cucumbers a lot. that’s what the plate thing means.)

@askluckyandfriends said: Aww I hope your mom has a great birthday!

she told me she had a nice day! (and also bragged about my art to her friends at the office lol)

on [stamps]:

@virovac said: Kirby says support your post office!

yes!!! we love the post office!

@tinybandee said: delicately places him in the mailbox, happy trails kiddo

if I wasn’t already tired for today I would love to draw him peering out of the mailbox back at you. that would be very cute. instead we will imagine it together.

from the ask box:

anonymous said: It's fine! Don't push yourself, you can't help it not feeling too great *showers you with support*

(this was sent when I posted about delaying stickers for a day) thank you so much! this genuinely did make me feel better about taking longer than I expected to get them ready <3

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baebeyza · 3 years

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Heya! ~

First of all, thank you for everyone who voted! Didn’t expect 44 people and it sure helped me in places to decide on things and being able to think of more plot :D

Lemme just go through all the questions under the cut:

1. Big or small cast? Big cast but only caring about few does suit me! If it were a small cast, I’d probably have gone with a plot structure similar to Beast Wars. Like this, I can make the premise more like TFA (the premise is like TFA in a lot of ways btw).

And it does suit me as well to not have to figure out an arc for too many characters, I don’t want this whole thing to be too long.

2. From which continuity would you like characters? This is a little hard to decipher, but suffice to say, most people want more G1 characters. Beast Wars and Japanese G1 have more votes as well! To Beast Wars: I love Beast Wars and its characters, however, I do not like to draw them. Their designs are cool and it’s not like I can’t draw them, I just prefer not to. So if I were to bring Beast Wars characters into this, I would change their designs for me to feel more comfortable drawing them. On another note, I also don’t like drawing animals (at all) so I’d probably give them a mechanic alt-mode with animal features in their robot mode (like the Breast Force in Victory)

As for Japanese G1, I do have quite a few planned! ~ As for G1 characters which never appear in another show...gotta say, most of those I don’t care for either. Some I do, but most not. Might bring them in somehow, but don’t expect them to have bigger roles. (exceptions exist, like Springer, love me the dude!)

3. Choose a dead Prime who ruled before Optimus! Sentinel won! Did like some of the extra choices as well though, like Prowl. Also noteworthy to me, no one voted for Arcee xD Guess no one wanted her dead.

4. Choose an Optimus Prime squad! So, for this I wanted to pick the two most voted guys and girls! And coincidentally, those happen to be the most of voted of them all! For guys, we have Jazz (not surprised by this) and Hot Rod, and for the girls, Elita and Arcee.

Guess that’ll be the squad.

Also, note here: A few people voted Ratchet as a custom answer and do not fret! He will be in this! This Optimus squad is simply a little group of Optimus and his close friends, and since I want to have a young Oppy, I want his friends to be in the same age range. On the same note, just because some characters aren’t in the friend group, doesn’t mean they won’t appear at all. Windblade and Jetfire for example are gonna be in this!

5. Choose a Megatron squad! This is about Megatron’s generals btw - characters who aren’t in this group can still appear! (examples are Cyclonus, Megaempress and Sixshot)

And again I want to choose equal part guys and girls, so for the guys, it’s Soundwave (boy getting loved I see), Starscream and Shockwave, and for the ladies, we have Nightbird, Blackarachnia and Strika.

A little note here: Because a friend commented on this I wanna make it clear: Drift/Deadlock will be based on the Aligned version, NOT on the IDW version. I had made it clear in the poll that I don’t like IDW1. (which I guess some people didn’t read, given that Tarn was given as a custom answer)

6. One love is story is planned, want any more?

I feel like I should have specified who the love story is about - It is about Megatron and Ultra Magnus. Big time. As for the answers, yes I can live them all! They don’t contradict each other anyway :D

7. Any ships you wanna see in this? Okay, the tricky stuff - as I said, the main love story is Megatron x Ultra Magnus, so any ship-wish that includes Megatron or Magnus here, sorry, not happening. I mean most don’t care, but for those who do:

- Dratchet: I know it’s an IDW thing, I can still think of something with the versions I have in mind if you still want that. - Windstream: Friends of mine wanted this, and I will try my best to make something nice out of it!

- JazzWave: Gotta see, so far I wouldn’t know how to include it

- Giving Arcee love: Got something nice and sapphic planned for her!

- Optimus/Elita: Again a friend wanted this, and I too would like to see them in a truly romantic light, so I’m going to include it!

- Happy ones, for the bad guys as well: Hell yeah! - Simpatico: I do not have Percy or Brainstorm planned in this

- Hot Rod/Arcee: I had another idea for Arcee, sorry! - Anything with Jazz: Good to know, if I can’t make it work with Soundwave, I’ll try with someone else (Hot Rod perhaps)

- Strika/Lugnut: Why not? Something in the background, as I have no plans for Lugnut - Windscream: Thing is, there are people who had this ship in the “Do not want” question that follows. Personally, I am indifferent to this ship, but since more people don’t want it (and because I have plans for Windstream), I’m going to pass on this. WaveWave: Gonna see how it goes with Jazz!

8. Anything you don’t want? Most people don’t care, which is nice, as for the things people listed: - Sparklings: Never planned them anyway, I want to go for something else to get parent/child dynamics. - Windscream, MegaStar, MegOP: See upwards, not going to happen here, same with DooP, since I wanna go with OpLita - “If functionalism exists, please don’t make the oppressed characters the villains for fighting back”: NO WORRIES, IS NOT PLANNED! Megatron’s backstory has no freedom fighter motive whatsoever. - Manipulative/abusive ships: Not planned - Bumblebee: Good luck, buddy, I didn’t have him planned either! xD - Slash: Tough luck, buddy, this will be one hell of a MagsMegs ride!

- Negativity directed at me: Thanks, pal! I do not wish for that either! :>

ALRIGHT, that would be it!

Again thanks for everyone who voted! I do hope to start with this in the near future and I hope it will be something enjoyable! <3 If there are questions about this, go ahead! <3 I’d be delighted :>

#transformers #maccadam #fan comic #fan continuity #transformer posting

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airlock · 4 years

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alright folks, I’m back for more of those results from the anniversary poll; once again, I’ll be counting them as properly as I can because IS sure as hell can’t, and in the process, I will also judge whether the fans have spoken good choices

this time, we’ll be counting and criticizing the top 15 dancing duos! (disclaimer: I don’t dance. I still will attempt to comment on everyone else’s dancing)

#1: BERKUT & RINEA (9313 votes)

tumblr won’t let me simply put two images next to each other in a text post, and I can’t be fucked to put them together in such a way that doesn’t make them un-transparent, so I’ll be putting them together with a simple color background; it’s a spot uglier and I will probably fail to spot some wonky pixels, but c’est la vie

anyways, I don’t like it, but like Byleth before, this is a natural afk pick; they’re some of a very small subset of characters in the series that we actually see dancing with each other, in a proper cutscene. a cutscene that, in fact, basically exists to tell us that they look good dancing, so one’s not wrong to vote for them here, I suppose. there are, in fact, a lot of people in this world who are fantastic performers and also would throw their spouses in a fire if they figured it’d make them feel good about themselves again

#2: OLIVIA & INIGO (2474 votes, including Laslow)

this is actually sweet, though, mother-son dancing duo and all. one thing I do have to mention, though, is that you’d have to hope that our hypothetical dance-off was announced plenty of time in advance, there’s so much that could bring a performance between them crashing and burning if they don’t hash it all out for themselves first

#3: EDELGARD & DIMTIRI (1871 votes across all appearances, possibly with uncounted change)

they sure do look fantastic, dancing with other people with their backs completely to each other,

might as well stuff this strangely popular nothing-of-a-choice with a little additional note: these paired votes are going to be especially harrowing on the split vote front, because any combination of two characters who both have split votes means they can be combined with each other in 4 different ways. like, most people probably won’t combine, say, someone’s PoR self with someone else’s RD self, but properly unsplitting votes in this is going to be a lot more of a challenge. and that’s to say nothing of byleth; there is a whopping 16 different ways to combine Byleth and any one Three Houses character

ETA: I. completely forgot about the thing where edelgard tried to teach dimitri to dance when they were young. okay, that kind of tracks. but also like, whomst the fuck got the idea that whatever they were doing there was building up to elegance

#4: ELIWOOD & NINIAN (1495 votes)

I’m getting the lingering feeling that this fandom is a lot better at pointing out good dancers than good teachers-

this one’s another amazing pick; sure, not one you have to think a lot about, since they’re oft-shipped and one of them is an actual dancer -- but the beauty of it is that even the ostensible weak link still has much offer, between his flawless elegance and a love of dancing that we at the very least knows is in his lineage

let’s just hope eliwood would still prefer to keep the “special dances” private though-

#5: BYLETH & CLAUDE (1163 votes across all appearances, possibly with uncounted change)

speaking of the ballroom cutscene again, man, Claude sure has left an impression on us all back there-

still, we don’t actually see the dance, and it’s probably better that we don’t -- I wouldn’t bet that Byleth is any more expressive with their moves than they are with their face. there’s really not very much of a reason to vote for this other than wanting to insert yourself into a situation where one dances with Claude. and I mean, mood, but let’s focus, please-

#6: OLIVIA & AZURA (996 votes)

this is just a copout, though. this is like if I asked you about the best food in your town and you just told me that technically Gordon Ramsey was born there. ooo, hot take alert, two unrelated professional performers can probably put on a decent performance together!

at least their theme colors together make the trans flag, so I’ll give all 996 of you that much-

#7: ALM & CELICA (990 votes)

was there like an actual thing where they dance, or were people picking this just because they’re good-looking and married? because like, in the absence of evidence, I cannot and will not assume that Alm is a remotely passable dancer.

in fact, here’s the drill: for this section, I can’t actually blame people if they’re just hornyvoting -- being hot is kind of a point-plus for this -- but I can and will blame them if they’re voting for their ships with no regard as to whether they’d look good dancing. so, accusations of hornyvoting shall make way -- to accusations of shipvoting! I believe that’s also going to happen on the other paired category, even if that one is a lot less about the chemistry (presumably)

#8: NILS & NINIAN (884 votes)

this kind of a copout again, but it’s also a family dance again, BUT most importantly one of these two is not actually a dancer. like, sure, he plays the flute, but this isn’t a flute-and-dance duo poll, it’s a dance poll! although I mean, it does mean he must have a good notion of rhythm, and from the sprites we can definitely tell he’s got a spring in his step when he plays, and Ninian can teach him too, so... maybe? oh well, it’d be cute to see them try

#9: SIGURD & DEIRDRE (790 votes)

eh, I’m gonna call shipvoting on this one too. like, sure, they’re both hot and they’re in love with each other, but even if you leave aside the likelihood that Deirdre was raised too shelthered to have danced like ever, any dancing they’d know of would be totally incompatible, considering their entirely distinct backgrounds.

I suppose I will lend credence to the idea that Sigurd’s at least experienced as far as dancers go; it’s not like he was studying back at that academy,

#10: BYLETH & EDELGARD (735 votes across all appearances, possibly with uncounted change)

since most of the votes on this are for post-timeskip edelgard, this appears to be unrelated to the ballroom scene, for once

that said, I can’t think of anything to this other than regular shipvoting -- and not even shipvoting of much quality, because besides the above-mentioned on whether byleth can dance, I have a nagging feeling that the kind of dancing Edelgard would genuinely be interested in would be strictly for fun, without any sort of elegance or other things that an outside participant would enjoy watching

#11: TSUBASA & CAEDA & KIRIA & THARJA (687 votes)

don’t let the fact that I found a transparent tsubasa but not a transparent kiria distract you from the absolute trainwreck that resulted from the naming scheme used in FEH for TMS#FE characters crashing into the notation I’m using for the duos here- ahem, well, please be distracted from both of those things, anyway

assuming this is just between the two mirage users and we’re not talking about the most awkward foursome in history, well... I once again have not played TMS#FE, so uh, they sure are both pop idols and I think people ship them, I guess?

#12: MARTH & CAEDA (596 votes across all appearances)

I mean... there’s a lot that can be said about their individual qualities and their dynamics, but I have absolutely no idea how any of it would translate into a ballroom. and if we’re any inclined to believe that skill with words and skill with bodily expression tend to be opposite skillsets, then theyyyy are both screwed.

#13: PENT & LOUISE (508 votes)

I get it, I do. they both look sparkly beautiful and haute and classy and like everything around them is prettier for them being there. but let me categorically tell you that neither of these two dance.

neither of these two dance because one, Pent is an absolute potato, and two, Pent specifically chose Louise because she didn’t try to impress him with a dance.

#14: SAUL & DOROTHY (495 votes)

regardless of any merits they may or may not have, this is 100% just to get them into heroes, isn’t it. alright, I can respect that

but as for whether they can dance... sure, maybe? Dorothy is full of hidden talents, and Saul has probably tried to dance enough times to guide her along at least

#15: CORRIN & AZURA (476 votes across all genders)

alas, there’s no way this can work out, because we all know corrin has two left feet.

thank you, thank you! I’ll be here every night!

HONORABLE MENTIONS (highest vote in their continuity, without reaching top 15)

Ike & Soren (344 votes across all appearances): disappointingly, of the stark few Tellius pairs that got on this list, the best-ranked of them is 100% blatant shipvoting. I mean, sure, Ike’s got moves, but Soren?? at least vote Ike & Ranulf you cowards

Eirika & Ephraim (323 votes): first, we’d have to extensively train Ephraim on how to not make this experience entirely embarassing for Eirika, but that can be said of most anything they could do together in public-

Triandra & Plumeria (280 votes): yep, still unfunny. and now all of you 280 assholes are stretching it

Ferdinand & Lorenz (95 votes, possibly with uncounted change): I’m just mentioning them because I’m one of these 95 people. and so should more of you have been! don’t you know elegance when it’s right in front of you? huh? huhhh????

and that’s it, you’ve endured me attempting to talk about dancing for several minutes when I have no knowledge or experience on the subject! I eagerly await your input in my replies and reblogs, especially from those of you who do dance.

#anniversary poll critique series #my stupid text posts #Fire Emblem is tagged in this post #Fire Emblem Heroes is tagged in this post

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meangirlsx · 5 years

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Request List Poll

Okay. I would like to clear out some of my requests if I can. I went on a long hiatus a while back, so now some of my requests are probably going on over a year old.

It was my intent when I got them to write them even if it took a while, but if the interest in a request is no longer there, I would rather remove it from my list and make room and time for something people are more interested in, now.

So I’ll be posting my current requests below and I would really appreciate any of you who are willing and able to let me know which ones you would like to see. You can comment, send a message, send an ask, send an ask on anon, however you’re comfortable. You can vote for as many of the requests as you want! Just please only vote once for anything you want me to keep on my list.

I will keep a separate list with everything saved, so that nothing is lost, just in case. And if something isn’t voted for, but I had an idea for the request or really liked it, I can still write it. But I would love to have my requests cleaned out for my own mental clarity, if nothing else.

I'm including recent requests not because I want to get rid of them, but so you know what all of my requests are and so that you can tell me what you’re interested in seeing. I figure most of the recent requests will still have a large amount of interest, however, if something has none, I’ll probably move it over to my other list to be saved in case someone asks about it in the future, but I won’t plan to write it, at least soon, otherwise.

Also, please know that if you’re my friend and you sent in a request, I absolutely still intend to write it. Your request is here just so you know it’s on my list and to see what kind of interest level there is. I have no intention of deleting a friend’s request.

Please cast your votes by next Wednesday, Nov. 13, 2019 at 11:59 pm EST. That gives a week for people to see this.

Thank you for your help!

Beetlejuice:

Halloween related asks? You got it! How about Beetlejuice X reader with Lydia being the readers best friend and all three of you guys having an epic movie night. All of the classic horror movies, and the reader just being a big ol baby who is scared and hiding in BJs lap while Lydia and Beej laugh???

Imagine Beetlejuice catching reader trying on a lil cat costume or something for Halloween and just being like 😍😍😍 hell yeah that’s my girl! Or alternatively him seeing you dress like HIM for Halloween

Beej and Lydia with an S/O with Aspergers headcanons?

Okay I sent this to other people, but that's because I want to see everyone's interpretation! We all love soft boi Beej but let's be real here, we all came here for the mischievous little devil! Pranks! Jokes! Teasing!

Hi hope you’re doing good! If you’re still taking requests can there be one where reader and Beetlejuice are just bffs so they go around causing chaos? But reader accidentally gets hurt and BJ realizes that reader is still human. Doesn’t have to be graphic either. Just a wholesome friendship ^~^

Could you do a Beetlejuice x Reader where the listener comes home from an exhausting day, and just wants to little spoon and get the best cuddles? Also, male listener?

Winter cuddles with BJ little spoon reader?

Lydia Deetz:

Homecoming and/or prom with Lydia?

Would you mind doing a Lydia x Reader (or Cady x Reader if you still write for Mean Girls) during the holidays? Christmas perhaps? Also, happy October 3rd!

Okay so like Lydia and her girlfriend spending a second christmas together and reader gets everyone in the house a gift, even beetlejuice! Lydia sees this as a huge step in their relationship because she sees how much her girlfriend has changed in a year considering she was very nervous, felt bad only getting Lydia a gift. To how shes more open and friendly with Charles and Delia, how she pokes fun at Beetlejuice, and how close she is to Adam and Barbara. Lyds is just head over heels in love.

Beej and Lydia with an S/O with Aspergers headcanons?

Regina George:

If the requests are still open I just gotta request a regina x nb reader who is seen as a loser but goes to a party and has of course a sexy masculine costume on and just everyone is like "oh no their hot"

Janis Sarkisian:

could you do a janis x reader where their first date is on halloween? i love your writing sm

Janis Sarkisian x reader - song lyric prompt, angsty “I’m still rocking your hoodie and chewing on the strings, it makes me think about you so I wear it when I sleep”

Janis Sarkisian x reader - song lyric prompt, “I can’t shake this feeling feeling I know you’re not there and I’m barely breathing.”

Cady Heron:

Would you mind doing a Lydia x Reader (or Cady x Reader if you still write for Mean Girls) during the holidays? Christmas perhaps? Also, happy October 3rd!

Aaron Samuels:

Aaron Samuels x reader - the reader comforts him after he finds out Regina has been cheating on him and they fall asleep holding hands

Aaron Samuels x reader fluff

Gretchen Wieners:

Gretchen Wieners x reader - “I just wanted to protect you”

Damian Hubbard:

Damian Hubbard x reader – reader is in the closet so they are dating in secret

Tyler Kimble:

Tyler Kimble x reader - “I’ve been watching vines since three in the morning. no I’m not okay!”

Zoe Murphy:

Zoe Murphy x reader - reader proposes or promposes to Zoe

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ciestessde · 5 years

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Don’t Call Me!

When a wannabe fighter-for-justice is injured and needs to escape, she's forced to go to an enemy mercenary for help.

A young woman in combat gear forced her way through the last few trees blocking her destination. She stumbled up the steps to the door of the cabin, but before she could knock -- someone opened it.

Isabelle, expecting to find one of the nearby villagers trespassing on her land again -- lowered her gun when she saw the woman. She was short and skinny, caked in dirt and snow, curly black hair hanging like a spiderweb in front of a sun-scorched face, and bleeding from gunshot wounds. The woman was doubled-over, gripping her side -- likely trying to fend off the worst of the bleeding from the wound there.

Isabelle opened her mouth to speak, but -- “Didn’t know where else to go…” -- the woman collapsed before she could even figure out what to say.

The woman woke up lying on a couch in the most pristine cabin she’d ever seen. Her wounds were treated and bandaged, and she could smell… something cooking. Even in her hunger, whatever-it-was still managed to avoid triggering her appetite. … Probably not a good sign.

Turning her head slightly, she noticed that the woman with the gun -- ‘The owner of the cabin?’ -- was stirring something on the stovetop on the other side of the large, sparse room. There were a few (hideous neon-green) rugs warming the hardwood floor, and some lifting weights were near the back of the cabin next to a couple of doors; her removed weapons rested on a side-table behind her head; the front door was beyond her feet, the shotgun leaning on the wall beside it, and… that was it. ‘Not even a fireplace…? Or some pictures on the walls?’

A voice, rough with the effect of too many cigarettes, asked, “How’d you find this place?”

The owner(?) had turned away from her cooking. She was quite a large woman: over six feet tall and entirely muscle, with a rather unflattering, bleach blonde mohawk, and wearing a loose, flower-print shirt.

The injured woman responded humorously, “As if I could forget that flag.”

Isabelle’s eyes widened in surprise -- then a look of understanding. “Oooh…! You’ve fought my group before, haven’t you?!”

The injured woman’s face turned grave at the memory. “Thankfully, our employers called a truce --” “Oh yeah!” she broke out in a large smile, “A damn shame. I always hate unfinished battles!”

“… ” The injured woman stared at her; not quite glaring, but clearly troubled. “Your name was… ‘Brigham.’ Wasn’t it.” Isabelle grinned. “Wow. I’m kinda flattered you remember my name.” “Don’t know why. Just stuck in there for some reason.”

Then she smirked, resting her head back on the armrest and closing her eyes. “Probably because of that stupid flag of your’s, ‘Oinky.’” “Gh-!” Isabelle’s grin fell. “And might I ask your name?” “Trishna.” “Alright, ‘Twig.’ Why’d you come here?” Isabelle turned back to the stovetop. “Is that supposed to be an insult on how skinny I am?” Isabelle didn’t respond.

“… ” So Trishna explained: As part of a group of private military contractors, she had signed up to protect what was described as a “new settlement in undeveloped lands.” She didn’t realize the truth until they arrived, and her teammates turned on her when she tried to leave. The villagers also, understandably, attacked her as she was escaping.

“So when I saw your goofy flag --” Isabelle spun around. “Will you stop calling it that?!” “What? It is,” Trishna goaded, opening her eyes to look at her. Isabelle looked ready for a fight. “The Boar is a strong, terrifying animal! It’s a symbol of courage and ferocity!” “That flag has a cartoon pig on it, Oinky.” “IT’S A BOAR!” Trishna smirked, “And the background is neon green because…?”

Isabelle spun back toward the pot before Trishna could see her blush. “Green is my favorite color. Do I need a better reason, ya damn twig?!” Trishna shrugged as best she could, “I guess not. Anyway, I saw your flag above the trees and figured I had a better chance of survival with an enemy mercenary than an angry mob.”

There was silence for a moment, then, “If it was me, I’d have slaughtered them.” It wasn’t said judgmentally. Nor without feeling -- but with pure relish.

Trishna stared at her back. “… You make me sick.”

She realized why she’d remembered this woman now. Back when their groups fought each other, “Brigham” had to be forced to stand down by her teammates. Even after the truce had been announced -- she’d kept firing. Eventually they’d managed to stop her.

But it was like she hadn’t even heard the order… … because she was enjoying herself too much.

Trishna was snapped out of her memories by a bowl being placed in front of her. Isabelle helped her up to lean against the armrest. “Eat up, Twig.”

In the bowl, Trishna could recognize some type of fish, broccoli, and mushrooms -- among several things she couldn’t recognize -- that seemed to have been made into some kind of stew. “… I’m not eating this-” “-Then I guess you’re not eating.” “… ” Reluctantly, she picked up the spoon. It didn’t taste as bad as she thought it would.

“Why help me?” Isabelle sat down on the fluffiest of the (hideous neon-green) rugs, one of the smaller weights in hand. “Easy. I’m not on a job, so you’re not my enemy.”

One woman would take a bite, the other lift her weight.

“Why are you all the way out here, anyway?” Bite, chew. “I’m allowed to take vacation, aren’t I?” Lower, lift, lower. “You don’t have family to spend it with?” Bite, chew. “Sure I do.” Lift, lower. “I spent the holidays with them.” Lift, lower. “I wanted some time to myself.” Lift, lower.

Lift, lower, lift-- pause.

Trishna stopped eating as well. She thought she heard a metallic sound coming from outside.

“Speaking of which…” Isabelle set down her weight, stood with a grunt -- and picked up the shotgun next to the door. Struggling to raise herself further off the couch, Trishna called, “Don’t kill the- !” “-They’re trespassing!”

Brigham slammed the door behind her.

With her wounds, the best Trishna could reasonably do was grab her handgun from behind her -- and listen carefully to the sounds from outside. Gunshots, some yelling and screaming… All faint and coming from the same direction.

They eventually stopped, and Isabelle returned -- far too happy for having just killed so many people. “Can’t stay here anymore.” She discarded the shotgun and walked straight toward Trishna, lifting her up bridal-style. “GAH!” “Sorry. Didn’t want to move you until you were a bit better healed -- but we can’t wait now. I’m taking you to the city.” Isabelle used her foot to pull the door fully open again. “You’re on your own from there.”

Grimacing, her vision darkening, Trishna bit out, “Don’t wanna -- owe you. But -- … thanks, Oinky.” “Don’t CALL me--!” When Isabelle looked down, Trishna had already passed out.

“… Stupid Twig.”

~~~~~

If you liked this, please REBLOG!

AO3 version

Buy this OSW as an ebook for $0.99 here!

OSWs Master List

{This is part of my “OneShot Wednesday” project - I’m trying to write a one-shot every week that other people have requested! Original Requests one week, and Fanfic Requests the next.

You can vote for the next OSW here until Aug. 21, or find the current poll on my Tumblr, Twitter, or Website!

While I will try to keep track of all the requests I receive regardless of how they’re sent, you should send Fanfic Requests through the pinned tweet on my Twitter, and Original Requests through either my email ([email protected]) or my Patreon (if you’re a patron) if you want to make sure I see them.

Just about everything goes -- I’ll tell you if there’s a problem. But if you want to know more about how they work, you can read about Original OSWs here, and Fanfic OSWs here.

So please send me ALL the ideas!!! I will make sure to recognize whoever’s idea/request it was in the work – just ask if you want to remain anonymous.}

#oneshotwednesday #original writing #original stories #angst and humor #light angst

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sasuhinasno1fan · 5 years

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My cosplayer boyfriend

I wasn't totally happy with this, but I've been working on homework most of the day and it's almost 11, so I ended it pretty short. Celebrity

“Did you hear that Keith Kogane is supposed to be judging the Masquerade contest?”

“Really? I heard he was supposed to be attending the convention for a panel.”

“I hope we can see him during a photoshoot.”

Lance couldn’t help but smirk at the overly excited girls’ comments. He collected his room key and went to the elevator. As he waited for it, he heard the girls speaking again.

“OMG, what if we find that cosplayer he’s always posing with? Weren’t they kissing in that last picture?” They weren’t for the picture, but they certainly were after.

“I know. I want to know who they are.”

Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Not after the hate he’d gotten back in the early years of his cosplaying years. Honestly had it not been for Keith’s convincing, he would have given up on cosplaying for good. He got back into it, because he missed the kinda addicting stress of getting costumes ready, the rush to get your make up done before it was time to go.

Though, he’d admit, he didn’t like the long wait of having to pick up the badges. Thankfully, he had someone to help him skip that line.

He took the elevator up to the 4th floor and walked down to the hall to the last room, using his key card to open the door. The room was already filled and he spotted Keith sitting at the end of the bed, a reporter Lance guessed, sitting on the chair from the desk. Keith glanced over and waved at him. Allura, who had been chilling on the couch, stood up and quietly directed him to where the closet was.

“Your Yukito jacket is done and so is your Prompto jacket. You brought the other things?”

Lance lifted the suit bag that held his black suit pants and blazer for his Sanji cosplay. “Everything is in my suitcase. How much longer for the…interview?”

“With this cosplay website that does a featured cosplayer and cosplay photographer each month. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s pulled into another interview before we go to pick up our badges.”

“I really hope not. We were stuck in that line for ages last time he had to those interviews.” Lance complained.

“So is the life of a celebrity cosplayer. Lower level than an actual celebrity, though not to the very eager fans who want to meet him.”

“I know, I was getting my key and I heard two girls talking about Keith. And of course, who his mystery cosplay partner is.”

“You know,” Allura pointed out, “it’s not like you and Keith hide your relationship. You’d think they would have figured out who you are by now.”

That was true. Lance wasn’t shy about clinging to Keith both in costume and out of it. Granted, most people couldn’t figure out who he was in cosplay.

“Can’t complain though.”

Lance sat with Allura as the interview was wrapped up and the person left, leaving Keith to collapse onto Lance’s lap and hug him close.

“That took so long. How do celebrities actually do this on a daily basis?” Keith moaned.

“Hey, if you didn’t look so good dressing up, this wouldn’t be an issue. Though, can’t hate the extra perks. Oh don’t worry you big baby. You’ve got me, your perfectly stable relationship.” Lance said, hugging Keith close.

“And me, the only person who can get you to stay still long enough to do your make up. Speaking of which, badges?” Allura poked in.

“Right. Let me just change my shirt. I put up a poll and had everyone vote what my Day 0 cosplay would be.”

“Tell me they chose Nico Di Angelo please?” Lance begged. When Keith asked him for suggestions, Lance joked that he could finally be his twin. Keith didn’t expect that the choice would actually win.

“Just be happy I’m not making you wear a Camp Half-Blood shirt.” Keith teased. He’d heard enough of Lance’s rants about the orange being obnoxiously bright.

Allura lead them towards the convention centre, the couple following with their hands laced together. They heard screams of people recognising Keith, which he placated with quick waves as they found Keith’s manager who lead them to collect their badges. Lance stood to the side when Keith was swarmed by fans asking for pictures.

“Is the person you usually pose with here as well?” a person asked.

“He is.”

“Who is he? You never tag him on Instagram.”

“He doesn’t want to be tagged. He didn’t have the best experience at cosplaying before. He only does it with me when I ask.” Keith explained.

Insults that he should stay within his own skin tone, callus words and the 2 people who got physical about it. Keith had personally taken care of those 2 but Lance didn’t want to cosplay anymore. It took a long time to build his confidence back again, to even get Lance to do the smallest cosplay with him. Keith tried to bring up the issues that Lance and other cosplayers faced, but not even his celebrity status in the cosplay world could change everything. Lance would cosplay with him, but he didn’t want his name tagged on anything. Keith listened to his boyfriend’s wishes though he could get Lance to show off his skills and claim that fame.

“That’s a shame. You two are really cute together.”

“Thank you. Now if you excuse me, I need food. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lance took in his face. He was used to hiding most of his natural freckles under concealer so seeing them all out was strange but Keith had a photoshoot that morning as Noctis from Final Fantasy XV and he was joining him as Prompto. It was a bit strange to see him with blond hair. He had died his hair white once and he liked how it look but blond was a whole other ballpark.

He looked over to where Keith was sitting in front of the mirror letting Allura do basic make-up on him. His manager, Shiro, was sitting on the couch nearby.

“So after your photo shoot, you have the panel at 2 and a possible interview.”

Keith groaned, before Allura snapped for him not to move. “All I do is dress up as different characters, how do I have this much to do? I’m assuming my signing is still on?”

“Yes.”

“Hey, think of the bright side.” Lance said, plopping himself down next to Keith, “the signing happens in the dealer’s hall. I can go look and get the things you want to get. Plus I’ll be there to see you at your panel. I do make everything better.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “I guess.”

“Alright. All done. Shall we get going?” Allura said.

“Oh, can you make sure and get a kissing picture?” Lance asked.

“We will, don’t worry.”

“You do know that’s gonna make people want to find out who you are even more right?” Keith pointed out.

“Worth it.”

#klance au month #cosplayer keith #famous cosplayer keith #established klance

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snkpolls · 3 years

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SnK Episode 66 Poll Results (for Anime Only Watchers)

The poll closed with 102 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Manga Readers’ poll, click here.

Anime only watchers, beware of spoilers if you venture over to the manga readers’ poll results.

RATE THE EPISODE 96 Responses

“Assault” got fantastic reviews from anime watchers, with the majority (93.8%) ranked the episode a 4 or a 5. No one seemed to have negative feelings about the episode this week.

can't wait for the next

epic

amazing

BEST

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING ACTION MOMENTS WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 96 Responses

The most favored action moment among anime watchers, at 29.2%, was seeing Eren using Porco’s titan as a nutcracker to defeat Lady Tybur. Following closely behind, at 27.1%, people most enjoyed Armin’s reintroduction as he blew up the harbor with his Colossal atomic blast. 24% most enjoyed seeing Mikasa fillet Porco’s legs, and a small 9.4% felt the most hype when Sasha and Jean helped take the Cart Titan and the Panzer Unit out of the fight.

armin supremacy

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING MOMENTS MADE YOU FEEL THE MOST EMOTIONAL? 95 Responses

In contrast to the action were the scenes that made us feel some emotions. 25.3% were most emotionally affected at Mikasa’s sorrow watching Eren doing something cruel to another human being. 26.8% felt the most for Armin in this episode as he looks down on the horrific aftermath of his explosion. 12.6% empathized most with Reiner as he made himself wake up despite still wishing to die. The remaining scenes that got people choked up, in order: Finally getting to see Hange again, Porco’s pleas as he’s forced to kill Lara Tybur, Gabi and Falco yelling out for Reiner to save Porco and help them, and Falco pleading with Jean not to kill Pieck.

Hange <3

ON A SCALE OF 1-5, HOW EERIE DID YOU FIND THIS IMAGE OF THE WAR HAMMER TITAN? 94 Responses

MAPPA drew an eerie shot of the War Hammer Titan near the beginning of the episode as she takes her final blow against Eren. Overall, people seemed to be neutral about the image, though more people found it to be closer to the stuff of nightmares than those who did not.

REGARDLESS OF HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT GABI’S CHARACTER, HER SEIYUU TRULY WENT ALL IN ON HER SCREAMS FOR REINER. ON A SCALE OF 1-5, HOW BONE CHILLING WAS HER PERFORMANCE? 93 Responses

The majority of anime viewers were taken aback by Gabi’s seiyuu’s performance, with 64.5% ranking it a 4 or 5. A smaller amount (14%) were less impressed by the acting and found the screams more annoying instead. 21.5% were more or less neutral.

Gaby's scream were... So desperate, so real.... I was chilled to the bones.

SOME FANDOM SPACES SEEM TO BE MORE POSITIVELY RECEPTIVE ABOUT THE CGI IN THIS EPISODE. WHERE DO YOU FALL ON THE SPECTRUM? 94 Responses

Overall, the reception to the CGI this episode has vastly improved over last week. 82% total felt that MAPPA’s use of CGI was a big improvement and that they continue to get better at it. Only 5 people felt more continued disappointment this week.

EREN MENTIONS THAT LARA TYBUR IS CRYSTALLIZED LIKE ANNIE, AND THAT HIS TEETH ARE USELESS AGAINST THAT. DOES THIS MEAN THAT THE SURVEY CORPS HAS TRIED TO HAVE ANNIE EATEN? 93 Responses

In general, respondents didn’t want to make a call either way about whether the Survey Corps has tried to have Annie eaten or not, with 40.9% voting a simple “maybe.” 34.4% believe that Eren’s words insinuated that he has experienced an attempt to eat a crystallized shifter before, while 24.7% feel certain that Annie has been left untouched all this time.

WE SEE EREN TRANSFORM FOR THE THIRD TIME IN A SHORT PERIOD IN THIS EPISODE, A STARK CONTRAST TO THE BEGINNING OF SEASON 3 WHEN HE COULDN’T DO SO WITHOUT HIS TITAN SEVERELY DEPLETING IN STRENGTH. WITH THIS, ALONG WITH HIS ABILITY TO REGENERATE QUICKLY BY HIS OWN WILL, HOW IMPRESSED ARE YOU WITH HIS MUCH IMPROVED ABILITY TO HANDLE HIS TITAN POWER? 92 Responses

Eren has improved vastly in terms of controlling his titan power since the earlier seasons of the anime. 73.9% altogether felt very impressed with his improvement, while 18.5% didn’t think it was any big deal at all.

Eren is such a badass. I am totally proud of him.

ZEKE CRYPTICALLY DECLARED THAT EREN IS “NOT HIS ENEMY.” WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS MEANS? 90 Responses

We haven’t had a lot of insight into Zeke’s thoughts and feelings much this season, so hearing him declare Eren as not being his enemy may have taken some by surprise, though he quickly follows this statement up by stating Levi comes first. 34.4% of viewers believe that this was a heartfelt statement and that it has something to do with Zeke telling Eren back in Shiganshina that he was going to save him. 22.2% believe it was a dismissive statement and that Zeke didn’t see Eren as a threat so much as he wanted to deal with getting Levi out of the picture first. 15.6% took this as a signal that Zeke’s loyalties may not be with Marley at all. The remaining respondents have already been spoiled about future plot developments.

WE FINALLY GET TO SEE ARMIN - AND HIS COLOSSAL TITAN! WHICH COLOSSAL TITAN DESIGN DO YOU PREFER? 96 Responses

This episode marks the first time we get to see Armin’s Colossal Titan form, so we asked which design fans prefer between Armin and Bertolt. It came close, though the slight majority think that Armin’s Colossal design is just a bit better than Bertolt’s classic mascot design.

ARMIN ASKS, “ARE THESE THE SIGHTS THAT YOU SAW, BERTOLT?” DO YOU THINK HE HAS SEEN SOME OF BERTOLT’S MEMORIES? 90 Responses

The majority (62.2%) believe Armin’s words prove that he has seen some of Bertolt’s memories over the last few years. 27.8% aren’t sure and simply voted “maybe.” A small 10% feel certain that Armin hasn’t seen any of Bertolt’s memories and can merely only speculate about the horrors Bertolt witnessed as the Colossal Titan.

LEVI TOOK DOWN ZEKE RATHER EASILY. IS ZEKE DEAD? 89 Responses

Just about everyone, aside from those who are already spoiled about future happenings, believe that Zeke went down way too easily for it to be true. 55.1% believe that he has gone completely unscathed from Levi’s attack one way or another. 10.1% believe that he’s at least injured, just not dead. A small handful don’t want to make a call either way and just a tiny sliver of the pie believes that Zeke may actually be dead for real.

It is a plane

JEAN’S THUNDER SPEAR DOESN’T HIT FALCO AND PIECK. HE QUESTIONS HIMSELF ON WHETHER IT’S BECAUSE OF HIM OR BECAUSE OF THE STEAM PIECK EMITTED. WHAT DO YOU THINK? 89 Responses

We’ve seen Jean struggle to kill another person before, so it’s not surprising to see him struggle with it once again when said person is just a child begging for the carnage to stop. 65.2% of respondents feel that the reason the thunder spear missed was ultimately due to Jean’s hesitation and unwillingness to harm an innocent child. 22.5% believe he had steeled himself to kill Falco but was only thwarted by Pieck’s steam. Some feel unsure about what ultimately affected the outcome, though some write-ins think it’s a combination of both.

I think it's a combination of both, I think that the steam and his reluctance to kill an innocent child is what caused him to completely miss.

I think both

both

Both?

WHO IS ONYANKOPON? 89 Responses

Hange and Armin were seen in the blimp with a new character named Onyankopon piloting it. But… where did he come from? 43.8% seem to believe that he is someone from another nation that has allied with the Survey Corps. 20.2% suspect that he is originally from Marley but has chosen to switch sides, and only 13.5% think that he’s a Paradis native we’ve never seen before.

I have no idea!!!

Jesus himself

WHERE DID THE SURVEY CORPS GET THE BLIMP? 89 Responses

Just as much as the new character is a mystery, so is the acquisition of an entire blimp! 30.3% believe that the blimp is something borrowed from an ally nation. 22.5% believe that it is stolen from Marley itself. 15.7% aren’t sure what to speculate, and only 11.2% believe that Paradis managed to figure this one out themselves.

WE SEE EREN’S TITAN SWALLOW THE BLOOD FROM LARA TYBUR. WHAT DO YOU THINK, DID HE SUCCESSFULLY STEAL THE WAR HAMMER TITAN’S POWER? 89 Responses

Nearly half of respondents are confident that Eren succeeded in his task to take the War Hammer Titan from the enemy. 25.8% think he most likely did, but are feeling confused as it’s been previously stated titans only transfer their power via spinal fluid. A small handful suspect there’s a possibility that Porco managed to swallow the necessary component to take the War Hammer instead of letting Eren have it.

Probably not, the titan that swallowed Eren whole in season 1 didn’t get his powers

%50 eren eat warhammer or %50 porco.

OVERALL, HOW DID IT MAKE YOU FEEL TO SEE EREN DOING SOMETHING SO COLD HEARTED? 90 Responses

Eren as a character has seemed a bit colder since the time skip, so we were curious about how people felt watching him assault Liberio and take out Lara Tybur the way he did. Reception of Eren’s actions is definitely a mixed bag. 27.8% are enjoying this new side of Eren, feeling he’s the “MF’ing GOAT.” 22.2% aren’t really sure how to feel about Eren’s actions yet and may need more context before making a final judgement. 20% just feel sad seeing Eren doing something so horrific, and 16.7% have lost any positive opinion they may have had about Eren at all.

Love to see Eren being a savage<3

Being given his rationale for his actions makes him a much more compelling character and I appreciate his gray morals more

It made me hate him, the way it felt to watch the Colossal and Armored Titans in Season 1.

Such is life

I think his character development is going in an interesting direction and I'm excited to get a more clear picture of why he's doing this in future episodes

I mean he always seemed to have a steak of evil in him since before. Kid killed people remorselessly, even if it was to save a girl. It was surprising from an audience point of view, but with his character, maybe it shouldn't really be too surprsing.

FALCO MENTIONS THAT PIECK’S BODY CAN’T HEAL FAST ENOUGH. DO YOU THINK SHE’LL MAKE IT OUT OF THIS ALIVE? 89 Responses

Pieck did not have such a good time this episode… Explosive injuries all around. When it comes to her fate in the next episode, a plurality (46.1%) seems to believe she’ll make it out alive, in contrast to 9% who think she’ll perish. Just under a quarter (23.6%) can’t be certain and 21.3% note that they’ve been spoiled already.

WHEN REINER AWAKENS, HIS ARMORED TITAN APPEARS TO TAKE ON A DIFFERENT FORM. THOUGHTS? 93 Responses

Reiner’s so handsome :3 and so is his Titan form this episode. An interesting development! What could it mean? Just under 50% seem to believe it represents how broken his soul is, 19.4% are just like the writer of these text blurbs and think the Titan form is cute. A little over 17% think it’s simply a rather cool structure and finally, a small minority are just yearning for his old form to return.

lol weird combination of reiner and titan i.e. when titan dies he ded

I'm just wondering why it looks so different.

squidward

Handsome squidward lol (I honestly don't have feelings on it either way)

why does it look like that 😭

Meh

Maybe he's weakened? The armors in his arms were also malformed.

DO YOU THINK PORCO WILL DIE NEXT EPISODE? 90 Responses

Porco was not treated well by this episode… Sheesh. Will the next episode do better by him? Well, just under 29% think he won’t die, at least. An equal amount of people believe he will, in fact, perish and were also spoiled about his fate (23.3%). 24.4% simply aren’t sure. Such an even pie chart!

THE NARRATIVE HAS LAID OUT A CLEAR FOUNDATION TO ALLOW THE AUDIENCE TO EMPATHIZE WITH CHARACTERS FROM BOTH SIDES OF THE SPECTRUM. WITH THE DEVELOPMENTS OF THIS ARC, WHICH SIDE OF THE CONFLICT DO YOU FIND YOURSELF EMPATHIZING WITH THE MOST AS A WHOLE? 90 Responses

Sympathy and Empathy for everyone! When it comes to solely empathizing with one half of the cast, the results are rather close! 22.2% find themselves solely (or rather largely) attached to the old Survey Corps, in contrast to 21.1% who happen to solely (or rather largely) be attached to the new-ish Warriors. On the other hand, when mentioning the more “differing” options, 48.9% of responses noted that they find themselves more attached to the SC, while still caring for the Warriors, in contrast to the 7.8% stating the opposite.

I've grown to love the Warriors throughout this season but watching them get wrecked one by one like that was simply incredible...especially that dumbass Porco, he took the fattest L ever Idk how its possible but every episode gets better than the last one. Bless MAPPA!

Fuck the Warriors

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

It was Fire, finally Levi could take his revenge from zeke

Easily one of the best in the series. Mappa really found their feet with the CGI and it was clearly a mammoth task due to all the different titans and ODM scenes. Everything was so much cleaner this episode. I have not yet been majorly spoiled, so seeing Eren use Porco to kill Lara was literally so energizing, reminded of how I felt when I first watched SnK. Did everything go a little too smoothly for the Survey Corp? Yes. I want to believe our friends will win, but i have my doubts. Im excited to see how this battle will play out because I have know idea where it's heading.

Good god can Eren kill Gabi next she's freaking annoying xD

One of the Panzer Unit's members had in his cart area thingy.

Gave me what I wanted

I've never so afraid and sad while watching this series

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 91 Responses

Thank you again to everyone who participated!

#snk poll #snk polls #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #aot #snk spoilers #snk s4

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madatobiweek2019-2021 · 5 years

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It’s Happening!

We’ve had an excellent response to the interest check, thank you to everyone who took the time to fill out the poll and make their opinions heard.

Barely squeaking in to first place, it looks like MadaTobi Week 2019 will be held in August. Since there’s clearly still plenty of time before then we will decide the exact dates later on after nosing about to see what other events have been planned around that time, since someone mentioned that there are indeed plenty of events happening in the summer/autumn months.

You guys have also made some excellent prompt suggestions. One thing that has come up a couple of times now is the idea of an overarching theme, something to connect the prompts so there is less of a ‘grab bag’ feel to the week. We’d like to hear more opinions! Please send an ask and let us know or leave a comment in the notes of this post so we can figure out if that’s happening or not. We also need suggestions for a possible theme.

Either way we will probably end up with two prompts per day that participants are free to choose between - or combine if they’re feel brave. In the event that we do have a theme for the week we might have one prompt fit the theme and the other not, it depends on what you guys want. Once we have more opinions on themes we will create a poll for you all to vote on which prompts to include. The more time you guys have to prepare the better!

#madatobiweek2019 #news update

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theguardiansseries · 5 years

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From the Beginning Chapter 8

Make sure to follow this blog so you can stay up to date on the latest chapters and news about the Guardians series!

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Don’t have the money to pledge monthly? Consider making a one time pledge by buying me a coffee on Ko-Fi. It’s basically Patreon without the monthly part of it. Every $25 I’ll be doing a giveaway so anyone who donated during that period will have a chance to win a published copy of one of my fanfiction works!

Click here to read on Fan Fiction Net Click here to read on Archive Of Our Own

Summary: Danny Fenton was a simple, sixteen-year-old teenager who loved fast food, video games, and getting a B on surprise pop quizzes. He’s also the half-ghost teenage hero Danny Phantom who defends Amity Park from ghost attacks on a daily basis. Somehow, the ghost attacks make a lot more sense than crushes, friendships, and falling in love with someone he is definitely not supposed to be falling in love with. It was a lot easier to separate Phantom and Fenton before, but now it’s getting harder the more he learns about himself. Just who was he? The dorky son of scientists who loved the stars or the hero that protected the town. He’s starting to feel like he won’t like the answer. (Iambic Prose) (Prequel to Guardians and Partial Show Rewrite)

<<First Chapter>> <<Last Chapter>> <<Next Chapter>>

Chapter Eight

“I think a threat that’s stronger than Pariah is about to wake up.” It sounded silly when he said it out loud, but Danny had been thinking on this for a while now and it was the only thing that seemed to make sense after his walk around Pariah’s Keep.

“What- Wait, what?” Sam looked surprised and even scared, almost, before her expression dropped and her eyes narrowed. “What kind of a threat?”

“I don’t- A threat.” It sounded stupid, but it all lined up! Danny had been seeing the signs for weeks and he hadn’t even realized what he was staring at until it was almost too late - almost. “Sammy, you have to trust me on this one.”

“Uh huh. Why do you think we’re about to face a threat, Danny? And give me an exact reason, not a ghost sense sort of reason.”

“None of the ghosts have attacked in almost two weeks!” Alright, Sam’s groan was unappreciated and wildly unhelpful. “C’mon, Tuck, back me up here. You think it’s weird, don’t you?” Maybe he was exaggerating a little with it being a Pariah level threat, but it was weird.

“Yeah. Weird.” While Tucker gave strange responses sometimes, that was weird even by their standards. He usually never shut up, but thinking about it, Tucker had been weirdly silent during lunch this time.

“Tucker? You alright, buddy?” The three were in the cafeteria, so Danny had been a little concerned with eating before his food was stolen or shoved down his shirt, but now that he was looking, Tucker had a lot of papers and notebooks out. “Okay, last I checked February wasn’t even over yet. What’s with the finals level studying?”

“It’s not studying.” Tucker was staring down at a packet of papers with utter seriousness, food completely abandoned and ignored beside him. It was, Danny decided, absolutely terrifying. “It’s for the student council elections coming up.”

Danny didn’t even get to open his mouth before Sam was kicking him, which, alright, he probably deserved that considering he hadn’t even known that his best friend was running for student elections. “Cool- Cool. That’s cool. Uh, refresh my memory, which position are you going for?” Because if Tucker was aiming for President, then he had quite the depressing news.

“Vice president. In this school, the VP always is the one behind the big changes. The jocks can fight for the figurehead position all they want, but I know what I’m doing.”

“Never doubted you for a second, buddy.” At least he had done his research, this year. “So, uh, what kind of plans you have in mind? Hopefully nothing that will end up with a changed lunch menu.”

“Hey! We agreed to never speak of that moment again! Nothing I did or said as a freshman can be held against me and you know it.” Sam glared at him and Danny knew without any doubt that she could kill him anytime she pleased.

“Right, right, so, uh, student council. Vice president. You wanna… talk about it?” That’s what supportive friends did, right? Talk about student politics?

“You have time for it?” All three of them seemed to realize how harsh that was at the same time since Danny winced the same moment as Tucker and Sam. “Sorry- Sorry, that was… Sorry, man.”

“Yeah, no, hey, I get it. I haven’t exactly been around the past few weeks like I should have been.” It had been one crazy thing after another, it seemed, but things were settling down, now. “The ghosts haven’t been by in almost two weeks, though, so I think I’m good on time for the moment.”

“Oh… Right! Well, uh, so first-” The next few words were drowned out by the ringing of the school bell, Tucker looking disgruntled as Sam hid a laugh behind her napkin.

“Raincheck?” Danny grinned, happy when he saw Tucker give a grudging one of his own. “We can talk about it after school. Gaming party at yours?”

“You know it.” Sharing a quick fist bump with the both of them, Danny helped Tucker gather a backpack’s worth of paper as Tucker looked like he tried to stop himself from smiling too widely. “Just you wait, man, I have so many ideas on how to keep this place from becoming hell- Oh! I had a few ideas about our, uh, club.”

“Club? Tuck, we don’t-” Oh. Oh! “Right! The club.” Ghost hunting was a club now, then. Great. “Uh, sure- Yeah. That sounds great.”

A little gaming time with Tucker while talking about their lives sounded like something that was long overdue.

Unfortunately, the ghosts never stayed quiet for long. What was supposed to be a fun night of gaming turned into six hours of fighting off Technus and his latest plan to use the Gamestop in the mall to take over the internet. It was six hours of his life that he was never going to get back, but he figured he could at least make it up to Tucker by taking him to the mall that, thanks to ‘Phantom,’ was still there.

Of course, it would have been better if Desiree hadn’t shown up and started granting wishes by the fountains. One would think that the town of Amity Park would have learned not to wish for things out loud, but four hours of hell proved otherwise. Danny was still trying to figure out who wished for walls to be made of jello. He would kick their ass, if he ever figured it out, that was for sure.

After that it was the Lunch Lady causing a riot at one of the local soup kitchens, Ember trying to enslave a group of teenagers in the park, the Box Ghost taking over the post office, and Johnny and Kitty having a fight that almost destroyed an entire city block.

Finally, though, March was here and things were calming down once again. “Tucker- Hey! Tucker! Wait up!” Student elections for next year’s positions weren’t going to be voted on until late April so Danny had plenty of time to listen to Tucker’s plans and help him out with campaigning and all of that. It would be easier, of course, if Tucker would slow down and wait for him. “Hey, so, I was thinking that today-”

“You could leave me behind and go off and hunt ghosts on your own? Yeah, sounds perfect, Danny, let’s do that.” It wasn’t the words that hurt so much as the way Tucker sounded so bitter. “Here, you can even get a head start. I’ll go home, and you can stand here and wait for the next ghost attack, which should be in, oh, ten minutes? Five, maybe?”

“Okay, no gaming marathon today, then.” Danny shook his head, trying to find out where the bitter attitude was coming from and finding himself unable to. He knew it had been a rough few weeks, but it wasn’t like any of that was Danny’s fault. “Okay, right, I’ll bite, what the hell? I mean, I know I’ve been busy-”

“Busy?” Tucker near knocked Danny over with how fast he turned around. “No, busy would be dealing with the ghosts and then coming to talk to me afterwards. You’ve been a jerk-”

“I’ve been a jerk? You’ve been avoiding me all day when I’ve been trying to catch up to you so we can talk. And I’m sorry, since when am I considered a jerk for taking care of threats that no one else can?”

“No one else- Do you even realize- Do you even see us?! All of this - everything - is all your fault! And you’re too much of a stubborn jerk to even see that!”

“My… And just what, Tucker, is my fault?” None of this was his fault! How was any of this his fault? He had his own stuff to deal with, too, and by the time the fights ended these days, he was too tired to do much more than to make it home and collapse.

What Tucker thought was his fault was something Danny didn’t get to hear. Instead he heard a high-pitched whine, saw Tucker look shocked and scared, and then he felt nothing but pain. Pain and fear were the last things he felt before he saw black.

“Greetings, prey… I had a feeling that my weapons wouldn’t trigger that little detection power of yours.”

“Oh, God, of course it’s you.” Danny’s ears were still ringing, and his mouth felt like it was stuffed full of cotton and sand, but he had enough sense to recognize Skulker’s voice when he heard it. “And here I thought you finally chased the wrong prey and got your suit destroyed or something.”

“Unfortunately for you, that is not the case. No, whelp… You see, I’ve decided that it was high time that we bring our little hunt to new grounds.” Right, Skulker was just going on with his dramatics. That gave Danny at least five good minutes to figure out where the hell he was and why he felt so awful.

The second one he could probably blame on whatever Skulker had used to knock him out. He remembered electricity, just barely, and that was enough. Skulker had probably gone to Technus to have his weapons upgraded, the jerk.

Okay, okay. Focus. He had been leaving school and- Tuck. Tucker. Right. Well, even if they were fighting, he was still sure that Tucker would call Sam and Jazz and some rescue attempt would be put together. At least, that was what he thought until he heard a familiar groan beside him.

“My brains… feel like oatmeal.” Pushing himself up faster than he should have, Danny’s vision swam as he stared down at where Tucker was lying down next to him.

“Ah, yes. I even brought along a friend of yours for our hunt today. I couldn’t have him running to tell others and interrupt our hunt too soon, now could I?”

“Skulker, the second I can see straight I am going to punch you in your face!” Of all the things to happen of course Tucker would be trapped alongside him! Sam, at least, could have kept pace with him, but Tucker? Depending on where they were, they might just be doomed.

“Maybe once you might have been able to, whelp, but I have the home field advantage.” The… The home field advantage? Stomach feeling like it had been taken out of him and dropped off a skyscraper, Danny shot his gaze up towards the sky and saw nothing except green. Green meant that they were in the Ghost Zone, but Skulker wouldn’t be so smug if it was just that. “Now, since I like to give my prey a sporting chance, I’ll give you a ten-minute head start.”

Feeling a tug to his wrist, Danny’s gaze snapped over to where Tucker was looking shocked and scared, eyes wide as he stared at the handcuffs that chained them together. This, Danny realized, just became a lot more difficult.

“Oh, and did I mention your ten minutes began when you awoke?” Skulker’s smug, satisfied words had Danny scrambling to his feet, fighting the wave of dizziness that swept over him as he grabbed Tucker’s arm and pulled him along as he started to run.

“Danny! Do you even know where we’re going?!” Tucker’s shouts only had Danny pulling them along faster, because the sooner they got away from Skulker, the better.

“I think that as long as we’re running away from the crazy mecha suit, then it doesn’t really matter,” Danny yelled back, eyes wide as he tried not to run them into any trees. He had caught glimpses of a forest in the Ghost Zone once before, but since when had there been a jungle? Were they at Skulker’s island or lair or whatever it was?

“And how do we know we’re not gonna just wind up going in circles!” Feeling a jerk on his arm as Tucker tripped over something, Danny swore as he slowed down enough to make sure Tucker didn’t fall before pulling him along again. “Ow- Danny!”

“Just shut up and run, Tuck. We wouldn’t even be in this mess if you hadn’t been acting like a jerk-”

“You’re blaming me for this?!” Tucker stopped again, and Danny grunted as he felt a sharp tug to his wrist where the handcuff was locked around him. He was starting to hate these handcuffs and he couldn’t wait to punch Skulker in the face for this. “This is your fault, dude.”

“My fault? It’s my fault that you’ve been ignoring me for the last few days?” Seeing the other ready to reply, Danny sharply shook his head the same time he pulled on the chain of the handcuffs. “We don’t have time for this. Just shut up and I’ll fly us out of here.”

Danny let himself relax before he was triggering his change into his ghost half, except there were no rings - or anything else. Trying again, Danny swallowed as, again, nothing happened. “Oh no.”

“Oh no?” Tucker frowned, crossing his arms and bringing Danny’s own arm with him. “Why are you saying oh no?” Changing wasn’t working, nor was flying, or intangibility, invisibility, ectoblasts, or anything else.

“We might have a problem,” Danny finally admitted, looking to the handcuffs and realizing for the first time that they were glowing. “Scratch that, we definitely have a problem.”

Tucker followed his gaze after a moment and it seemed to click at once considering the loud swear he let out. “This thing stops your ghost powers?”

“Seems to be the case,” Danny hissed, fingers scrabbling against the cuff on his wrist. He almost started swearing when it didn’t even budge. “Okay- Okay, just- Don’t panic. Just follow me-”

“And who put you in charge?” Tucker looked even more defensive than before as he took a step forward, poking at Danny’s chest, and, seriously? “This is my life on the line, too, you know! Why do you get to make all the decisions?”

“Can we not do this right now?” Danny frowned, batting Tucker’s hand away. “Look, I get it, you’re pissed I don’t get to spend time with you anymore, but we need to get out of here before Skulker tries to skin us or something. As for the other thing, I get to be in charge because I know about ghost things.”

“And I don’t?” Instead of his words reassuring Tucker, the other only seemed to be getting even angrier. As great as it was that they were finally talking, now was really not the time. “Dude, I’ve been right here the entire time! You don’t even see me, but we’ve been learning all of this stuff at the same time! The same pace!”

“Where is this even coming from?!” Danny finally shouted back, not caring that their ten minutes were probably up and Skulker was on the hunt for them. Skulker was the last thing he was worried about, right now. “It’s only recently that we’ve been fighting like this-”

“Recent?” Tucker’s voice was whisper soft before he was yelling again, looking angrier and angrier with each word. “Recent- It’s always been like this! You’ve always been so damn prideful and full of yourself and it’s gotten worse ever since you became ‘Phantom.’ You think you’re above everything!”

For a second, Danny could only stare at his best friend in shock. Then the shock ended and anger set in. “Above- You have no idea what I go through!” They could never understand. Tucker and Sam could never understand what it was like to be half-ghost. They saw him, but they didn’t see the aftermath. They never saw. “I’m trying to be ‘in charge’ because I, at least, know about all these damn ghost things-”

“And I don’t?!” They were the same words, but this time Tucker screamed them as if Danny had just stabbed him. “I’ve been right here this entire time and learning it all the same time as you! I’ve been here the whole time and you don’t even see me! I’m nothing but the tech guy to you!”

“At least you know what you are!” The words exploded out of him, Danny certain that his powers would have already been reacting if they hadn’t been suppressed. “I don’t even know if I’m alive anymore some days-!” Danny’s words died in his throat as he saw green energy that was speeding towards them.

Their ten minutes were definitely up, and Danny realized in that moment how loud they had been screaming. He then realized that while these weapons could hurt ghosts, this was technology that could kill humans, and it was flying right for Tucker’s back and no-

Danny was moving before his brain could make the decision, hands grabbing Tucker by the arm and back of the neck before he was spinning them around to switch places. He then immediately pushed them towards the ground. The blast of energy felt like fire against his skin as it seared across his back, gritted teeth feeling like they would break as he suppressed a scream and hit the ground a second after Tucker.

He didn’t give himself time to recover, instead dragging the two of them up before running through the jungle again, trying not to focus on how Skulker’s laugh boomed all around them. Danny knew Tucker was trying to say something, but Danny ignored it until he was skidding into a cave opening, knowing the hiding spot was only temporary.

“-alright?!” Tucker’s whisper shouting finally sunk in, Danny blinking as he looked over to see Tucker was staring at him with wide, wet eyes and shaking hands. “Dude- Dude, you pretty much just took a bullet for me.”

Staring at him for a minute, Danny finally shrugged and tried for a grin, “I can handle stuff like that.” Tucker couldn’t. Danny was stronger against these types of things even in his human form.

“But- We were fighting. We were fighting and you still- Ow! Hey!” Watching Tucker clutch the back of his head where Danny had just hit him, Danny gave a mock glare.

“Dude, do you seriously think that I would let you get hurt just because we’re fighting?” Danny was definitely pissed at Tucker and he had the urge to drop him off a small hill or something, but even at their worst he would never want Tucker hurt, let alone killed. “Idiot.”

Hearing leaves rustling, Danny jerked them further into the cave, biting his lip at the wave of pain from his back even as he pulled Tucker down to the ground and into the shadows. The two were utterly silent and still as the rustling leaves slowly moved away before they disappeared altogether.

“Okay, we need a plan,” Danny finally said, looking to Tucker and giving him a nudge. “Any ideas, VP?” There was a long moment where Danny thought Tucker was going to make a thing of it before he looked away with a grudging smile.

“Elections aren’t until April, you know,” Tucker said quietly, Danny beyond grateful that they weren’t the type to go into feelings. “Sorry. I-”

“Nope, no, nuh-uh, we don’t have time to deal with emotions. You’ve been a jerk and I’ve been an arrogant asshole or something and got carried away and forgot to tell you that we’re a team, and you’re not just backup.”

“I’ve been a jealous asshole,” Tucker finally corrected, looking suspiciously emotional. “And you’ve been a prideful prick who doesn’t like to take suggestions.” Ah, much better. “You think I would have learned the first time about being jealous.”

The memory of Desiree and her powers sent a shudder through Danny and Tucker both, especially as they remembered the end result. While ‘Tucker Phantom’ hadn’t been bad at first, it had showed Danny that he could get as wrapped up in himself as anyone else. Had he really started slipping that easily, again?

“I haven’t exactly given you reason not to be,” Danny finally said, sitting up slowly and trying not to show how much his back was hurting him. Tucker probably knew, anyways, judging by his wince. “Tuck… I didn’t think I had to say it because I thought you knew, you idiot.”

“As always, you’re full of such affectionate nicknames,” Tucker grumbled, peeking his head out of the cave. “Looks clear, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had Technus rig up some kind of spying system.”

“Yeah, but Tucker, look, man, I’m trying to emotionally connect, here.” At the look on Tucker’s face, Danny did his best not to laugh. “I’m serious. You’re not just tech support.”

“Yeah, yeah, man, I know, we’re friends and I’m part of the team and-”

“We’re not friends.” Danny let Tucker’s shocked silence sit for a moment before he grinned, giving him a nudge. “We’re brothers, aren’t we?”

“Oh my god you almost gave me a heart attack.” Even as Tucker dramatically clutched his chest, Danny could see the way his eyes were getting wet. He knew his own were the same, so at least they had mutually assured destruction. “This conversation never happened.”

“What conversation? Seriously, though, please tell me you have a plan or something, because otherwise we’re kind of screwed.”

“I don’t know how to get these cuffs off, but I do have something.” Watching as Tucker twisted and squirmed around, Danny shook his head as the teen finally got his backpack open from where it was stuck on one arm.

“Tell me that you’re not about to pull out some plot device to save the day or whatever. I know our lives have gotten kind of crazy, Tuck, but-” A Fenton Thermos was being waved in front of him. A Fenton Thermos that was black and green. “Whoa. Dude, what…?”

“I told you I’ve been working on our ghost stuff, too. This is one of the things I was trying to show you, dude.” The Thermos, which looked a lot less like a thermos these days, was the same size as the old ones, but had a metal plate that had a circular pattern to it covering the top instead of the lid it used to have. “It’s like one of those cool sci-fi kinds of openings, you know? You just a press button, this opens up like a circle thing, and boom, you have a ghost capturing ray.”

“Tuck, you’re a genius.” Taking the Thermos, Danny’s grin got even wider as he thought about how much work must have gone into something like this. “You’re my favorite.”

“Sweet. I’d tell Sam, but I don’t know if the satisfaction would be worth both of our deaths,” Tucker laughed, falling silent the same time Danny did. A branch had snapped not far off from where they were sitting. “Wanna take that thing for a test drive?”

“Tuck, you read my mind.” Danny grinned as the two of them stood back up, Danny realizing in that moment that Tucker really had been through it all with him. As Skulker stepped out of the foliage, Danny’s grin grew wider. This was going to be fun.

“I was wondering when you would be back! Honestly, you could at least give warning if you’re going to disappear for weeks on… end.” Ghostwriter stared at him and Danny could see the exact moment that he registered Danny’s back was bleeding and he was chained to Tucker. “This one must be Tucker, I presume?”

“Oh, cool, you do talk about us!” Tucker’s voice was a cheerful little chirp as he stuck his hand out. “Yo. I’m Tucker Foley, Danny’s best-friend-slash-brother. You must be the ghostly book nerd he won’t shut up about.”

“You’re going to make me regret bringing you here, aren’t you,” Danny grumbled, reluctantly amused when Ghostwriter cautiously shook Tucker’s hand. “So, uh, hey, do you know how to lockpick handcuffs?”

“I do, actually, yes.” Oh, cool. That made this easier. Danny also knew what he was asking Ghostwriter about next time he visited. “I take it those handcuffs were not a choice, then.”

“Why- Why would you think it was a choice?” Danny was grateful that Tucker looked just as horrified, but Ghostwriter only looked amused as he opened the door properly for them.

“Who am I to judge another’s preferences? Come on, then. It shouldn’t take me long. I take it that’s been cancelling out your abilities?”

“Yeah, Skulker’s a dick,” Danny nodded, pulling Tucker into the library and using the handcuff like a leash when it looked like Tucker was about to run off to explore. “Do you have bandages, too?”

“Goodness, you’re certainly high maintenance,” Ghostwriter sighed, looking amused instead of concerned, thank God. Danny was good enough with all the concern he already got. “I should have something.”

“So, hey, you know, you could totally go digital and get rid of half these books - maybe free up some space, even. I mean, paper copies aren’t really efficient.”

Ghostwriter, after faltering in his steps and looking back, gave Tucker the dirtiest look that could ever be imagined, Danny breaking and starting to laugh when Tucker only beamed back before going in depth about the advantage of technology over books. It was good to have things back to normal.

Danny couldn’t wait until they got even better, though.

#danny phantom #guardians series #from the beginning #ftb chapters #iambic prose

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