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lillie98 · 2 days

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How to Save the World—Stranger Things 5

I’ve had some time to sleep on the episode titles and think about them, read theories, etc. and I now believe they might be real.

Hear me out: Stranger Things is all about cycles, parallels, tropes happening over and over again. The Duffers love taking a moment and repeating it in slightly different ways to prove a point. The story started with “The Vanishing of Will Byers” because we needed to place a small, innocent child in the center of our story, something to bring our character together and drive them to action. Well, that child is no longer in danger and our team is ripping apart at the seams. It’s almost like we need something similar to reunite everyone and drive them to action again.

Remember: The Duffers love parallels. Will’s disappearance brought his deeply fractured family together, uniting them for a common cause. It also brought Nancy and Jon together when their families needed them most. Now, the Byers are a united front, ready to tackle any monster that comes their way. They are the glorification of the avant-gard family. Now which family is struggling? The Wheelers. The perfect, All-America Nuclear Family: Mom, Dad, 3 kids, and a picket fence. They look perfect to the outside world, but behind closed doors, they are deeply struggling. They don’t communicate, the parents have idea what’s happening in their children’s lives, and if they’re not careful, if they don’t come together and form a united front—they’re going to lose everything, potentially causing the end of the world. (Why? I haven’t gotten that far yet!)

Now, how do we inspire them to action? Maybe by taking the child who was born to save their crumbling marriage—the one has seen everything but, up until this point, been too young to contribute. Now, she’ll be the same age Will was when he disappeared and Mike and Will are the same age as Jon and Nancy. The Duffers are trying to illustrate the idea of “The Next Generation.” This evil, this Upside Down dimension is NEVER going to stop until someone from the Wheeler and Byers families breaks the cycle. Children will continue to vanish, the world will continue to crumble, until someone steps up and says ENOUGH. The Wheelers and Byers (parents and children) must step up and face their pasts in order to move forward.

The “Stranger Things” are not only LGBTQ+ matters, they are the skeletons we hide in the closet that literally eat us alive. They are the dark, festering parts of ourselves we don’t let anyone else see. The invisible cancers that slowly and silently kill us. Until we face them head on, until we bring them to the light, they will NEVER die. Stranger Things is about owning your past, facing your fears, and finding the light again.

So yes, Stranger Things will end with Will Byers making it home from Mike Wheeler’s house on November 6, 1983, but not in a time traveling way, in a finally letting go of that scared, pained little boy who thought the world was better off without him. It’s Mike accepting his sexuality and place in his family. His role as a leader. It’s Joyce accepting love from Hopper, who must accept that he is not actually cursed, but that sometimes, bad things happen to good people, even when they think they’re doing the right thing (Vietnam). it’s Karen and Ted falling in love again and fighting to save their family. It’s Eleven discovering that love, not anger, should fuel her powers. It’s mourning your stolen childhood while stepping into the version of yourself that child never got to be. It’s stopping the cycle and creating a better world for the Will Byers and Mike Wheelers and Jane Hoppers of tomorrow. THAT’S how you become a Hero.

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addsalwayssick · 2 days

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Marauders Night At the Museum Au part 1

Remus pressed his lips into a line a quirked his eyebrow. James, on the other hand, smiled. “Thank you, sir.” James said, patting his back.

“You start tonight. There are rules in the cabinet.” Albus said, waving them out of his office door for the night.

Albus soon packed up, leaving both Remus and James behind in the sunset.

Remus pulled out a book, starting to read. “You’re so boring. We should be exploring.” James sighed, spinning around in a spinny chair.

Remus rolled his eyes. The sunset drew to a close, as a curtain of darkness fell upon them. James, now sleeping in a chair, only awoke when Remus screamed. Now, James was expecting a robber, or a burglar or something. What he was not expecting was a skeleton dog trying to get behind the circular desk that James and Remus were sat at. James was wide awake now. “Holy crap! What do we do?” James yelps.

“Get the rules!” Remus says, his voice rushed.

James tries to open the cabinet Albus said it would be in, failing to. “It’s locked!” James said.

“Try again!” Remus shouted.

“I can’t!”

They heard a piercing whistle throughout the museum, and everything stopped. A man wearing tight pants, and a complicated top came out. The skeleton dog rushed to him, sitting by his side. “What are we doing chasing the new night guards?” He asked the dog. The man was gorgeous. With his long dark hair, eyes silver yet warm, and a smile radiating through the cold air of the museum.

Remus thought he was beautiful. Remus had never thought of anyone like that. “Who are you?” Remus said, coming to his senses.

“I am Prince Sirius Orion Black the lll of France. Well, previously I suppose. It is…2024, non? Well I was disowned in 1775, so I suppose that’s that. I was killed in 1780, though, so it didn’t matter.” He said, his black hair swishing elegantly, despite his sad story.

“Are you alone?” Remus asked carefully, his mind swimming with questions. “Are you real?”

Sirius laughed. “No, i’m not alone. I have my brother Regulus. He got disowned and guillotined in the same day. He technically died before me. Only by a month, though. And no, i’m not real. I’m made of wax.”

“Where is Regulus?” James found himself clearing his throat and asking.

“Well he got sent out for enjoying men’s company and guillotined for having no desire to be a woman, so most likely changing. They’re awful here, they put him in a corset every day. He changes, every night though.” Sirius told them.

Remus and James’s mouths dropped. At the stunned silence, Sirius groans. “Please don’t tell me you don’t like the fact we prefer men over ladies. Ladies are lovely, I just don’t like them. The last night guards were like that and-“

“You like men too?” Remus chokes out.

Sirius nods carefully. Remus gets up out of his seat, patting Sirius in the back. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I promise James and I don’t care. I’m bisexual and James is Pan”

Sirius furrows his eyebrows. “You speak two languages? As do I. What does that have to do with anything. And James is a pan? He doesn’t look like one.”

Remus laughs. “I like men and woman. James likes everyone.”

Sirius frowns. “Oh. That’s nice. So what am I called?”

“You just like men, right?” Remus asks, taking him to the seats. The dog follows. Sirius nods. “Then you’re gay, probably.”

“Gay? As in happy? Well, I suppose I am happy with men.” Sirius thinks aloud.

Remus laughs, brushing his hair out of his face.

James, on the other hand, is nearly banging his head against the desk. He truly didn’t think life could get any crazier after his boyfriend of 2 years broke up with him, kicking him out, with no job. But of course, wax statues, skeleton dogs, animals, and is that a talking statue of George Washington? are coming alive. James was not having the best time. He was happy his best friend, Remus, finally met someone (even if it was a wax statue) and thought that was awesome, except for the fact they were talking wax statues that are now alive. Wasn’t Remus supposed to be the logical one?

But then again, all his logic apparently flew away when a man walked down the stairs with James’s clothes on. James coughed. “Those are my clothes.”

The man turned to him and frowned. “Hm. Sorry. Yours must have been the locker I nestled into. I have to steal these clothes you see, because apparently committing so called treason and getting executed isn’t enough for me to be put in men’s clothes.”

“Oh, no! It’s totally okay, just a bit of a shock. Considering it had my name on the back and things.” James choked.

James had walked in wearing a spider-man t-shirt, black jeans, and a letterman jacket from high school that said ‘Potter 03’ on it. He had to change into his uniform, so the clothes went into the locker.

It seemed wrong that someone as elegant as this man before him was wearing something so casual. He looked as if he belonged in a painting.

He smiled. “Thank you then.”

“Are you Regulus?” James asks, fascinated by this new man.

Regulus nods. “I suppose Sirius had told you our entire life story?” James nods. “Thought so.” When James looked confused, Regulus sighs. “He tells everyone.”

i haven’t posted any writing in literally forever so have this unfinished scrap xx

#james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #jegulus #sirius #sirius x lupin #wolfstar #regulus and evan and barty #sirius and regulus #remus and regulus #regulus black #grahhh #dies #cries #sobs #addie writes

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marlowethebard · 1 day

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Little Gremlin

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Tags:Astarion / f!Tav, hurt, injury, mild gore, comfort, end-game spoiler-ish. SFW, Fluff

Summary: Another introspection into Astarion's little glass noggin.

Words: 2.4k

Also available on Ao3

The city outside had finally begun to settle. The city Watch and the Fists, those who had not been tadpoled during the infiltration of the Absolute, were slowly putting a stop to the looting and helping the displaced and injured to aide.

The Netherbrain had fallen and taken the Crown of Karsus with it into the Chionthar. Astarion had seen Wyll and Karlach vanish to Avernus, and his phantom heart ached for his friend. Karlach’s battle was not over, not yet. Even so, the world felt mostly right. Everyone in the world that he cared about was more or less okay. Until the sun found him.

Those tiny prickles of heat in the veins of his face and hands were so small, so gentle at first, that he almost dismissed the sensation. He’d gotten so used to very nearly being alive again that random aches and pains had become commonplace. He didn’t think much of it until the burning began to rip across any exposed centimeter of flesh, searing his nerve endings and striking terror into his undead heart.

He ran then. He could hear her, his Tav, screaming for him. He knew Gale and Halsin were holding her back to keep both of them safe, comforting her, telling her to let him go, that he’d be all right. He even recognized the flare of jealousy that he couldn’t be the one to soothe her, that they had their hands on her when he couldn’t, somewhere deep beneath the pain of his burning flesh. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Panic had gripped him and all he could do was run. To try to find shelter. To protect her from what he was and what he had become once again.

The warehouse cellar he found was mercifully dark and quiet, in spite of the chaos still raging in the city streets. They had won, but so much was now lost to him. The sun had turned on him like a knife turned in a hand and took him away, back to the dark. To add insult to injury, it had taken his beauty, too. It wasn’t enough that he’d live in pain and darkness with his demons, but now he had to do it as something truly monstrous. He found a moldering pile of disused burlap sacks for a bed and curled into a ball, cradling his burned face with his burned hands, and he wept until the oblivion of the pain took mercy on him and dragged in into unconsciousness.

When he woke, he was completely certain that it had all been a dream. The familiar scent of dank mildew and rot filled his nostrils. He lay on a pile of rags on a cold, hard floor. He ached all over. He fully expected that when he opened his eyes, he’d be naked, manacled to the wall of Godey’s dungeon in Cazador’s palace with a fresh web of lacerations across his face and hands and neck – punishment for some sleight Cazador had dreamed up. He whimpered and swore, eyes still shut tight as he pounded his fist against the floor, sending a white-hot jolt of pain spiraling up his arm. He should have known better. He should have known better than to believe any of the events of the last months could have been real. Good things, like friends and freedom and love, didn’t happen for him. Some people were made to suffer.

When he opened his eyes at last, there was only darkness. No animated skeleton, wielding a scourge to beat him into submission. No chains. Only the scuttling of rats and the lap of water nearby. Cazador was dead. His bones and muscles knew the absence of his late master the way they knew weight and pressure. They were truths that didn’t need questioning.

The pain was just as real whether he was caged in nightmares, or awake. He held his hands up, and they felt tight, as if the skin was shrunken too small to cover the bones and sinews within. The dismal light in that dark cellar was too weak a thing to see the true extent of the damage, but he didn’t need to see it. He knew his hands, once so clean and smooth and fine, had flared like burning magnesium. They could only be charred and cracked, with fissures of raw, bloody meat now. He hadn’t seen his face in over two centuries, and for the first time in all that time, he was glad he couldn’t see it. He didn’t want to know what horror awaited Tav when he found her again.

Tav.

Gods, could he face her like this? Would she scream? Would she vomit in revulsion at his burned and mangled face and hands if he stood before her again? He ached for her, not just for her blood, but all of her, to hold her in his arms, to hear her sing and laugh. He could go to her. She was probably at the Elfsong right now. Probably half crazed, begging the others to help her look for him. Or at least, he hoped she was. He didn’t want her suffering on his account, but he hoped that she was alive and well, that she still wanted him.

That was another new thing with Tav. She had been a seemingly endless parade of new experiences and habits, but this most recent one, hoping, was by far the most unsettling. Hope had always been a monster; a relentless little gremlin that fed false promises and made the longings and desires brutally pummel him when he was at his lowest and darkest. It was apprehension and anxiety and a tightness in his chest, and it walked hand in hand with bitter disappointment.

But with Tav, it was also lightness. With her and the hope she brought him, his jaw was unclenched for the first time in two centuries. He gave himself permission to hope because with Tav, the things he hoped for came to be more often than not.

He could hope once more, he thought. She was her, after all. No one else was like her. She’d trusted him and cared for him, when all good sense should have told her not to. He hoped she could continue to care for him, to trust him, to love him, even in whatever state he was in. In darkness and in light. In pain and in ecstasy. In beauty and in monstrosity. For better or worse.

His lips felt tight when he smiled, felt like they were cracking, but he didn’t care. The thought of holding her was enough. The thought of her going mad with worry over him was enough. He even chuckled at the thought of the shiner she had probably given Gale as he tried to hold her back.

Very well, decision made. He would find her and accept the outcome.

When he emerged from the warehouse cellar, he was surprised to find that things were better off than he had feared. He’d found a whole nest of rats, which, vile as they were, were still vital. As he drank each one, he felt the creature’s blood filling his veins, soothing those scorched delicate passages within him. In the light of the fires the Watch had lit in braziers all around the lower city, he could see his hands were not the melted and charred ruin of flesh he pictured. He couldn’t tell about his face, but it didn’t feel so stretched, either.

Astarion kept to the shadows as he picked his way around rubble and the ruined homes and shops. When at last he reached the Elfsong, he was surprised by how little damage the tavern had sustained. The damn thing was not only still standing, unscarred, but it was open for business. Roaring, too, by the look of it. He stood in the darkness of the burned-out shell of what used to be the headquarters of the Baldur’s Mouth Gazette, watching the comings and goings. And then, suddenly, she was there.

Bathed in moonlight, she stood on the balcony like an ingenue taking the stage in a play. Even at a distance, Astarion could see she was as much of a wreck as he imagined she would be, and it made his phantom heart flutter with joined delight and misery. She was still in her leather and scale mail, still covered in blood and grime. Her hair was pushed back off her face as if she’d run her hands through it so many times that gravity gave up and let it just stay that way. He couldn’t stop smiling.

Tav was scanning the street, watching the patrons as they came and went, obviously searching. For what, exactly, Astarion didn’t know, but that little hope gremlin that had taken up residence somewhere behind his ear whispered to him that she was looking for him. The clouds scudded out of the way of the full moon, dousing the sad remains of the broadsheet’s foyer in sickly yellow-gray light. She saw him. Stared at him, her mouth hanging open. People passed in the street. Time slowed. Astarion was sure that if there had been music playing, it would have faded out with all other sounds as they looked at each other.

As if a spell had broken, she bolted through the balcony doors. Astarion could hear the commotion inside their rooms, could almost track Tav’s progress as she tore through the upper floor of the tavern and the noisy bar room below. She burst through the doors at street level, tripped over some rubble still littering the street before all but launching herself into his arms. She was usually so careful of his sensitivity to touch. It warmed his cold dead heart to see her put own need for reassurance ahead of him for a change.

He thought she would bombard him with a tirade of “do you know what you dids” and “how could yous,” but it never came. Instead, she just held him, her arms and legs wrapped around him, so similar to the first night they had slept together, but so much more genuine. More real. Just more. His hands hurt where they cradled her weight against him, but it was nothing. She wanted him, without his asking, and any pain was far away, blocked by the radiance he felt with her in his arms. She leaned her forehead against his, her natural heat stinging the still tender burns there, but he wouldn’t move her. He’d die with her like that if it was what she wanted.

“Come upstairs,” she whispered at last. She slithered down his body, taking his still-wounded hand in her own without hesitation. Astarion imagined all of the eyes on him as they waded through first the pub full of strangers and then the common room full of their companions, but no one said a word. If they had been coached or were stunned into silence, he didn’t know. Whatever the case, he was glad for it. When at last they were alone in the bathroom, she pulled him into her arms again and brushed her lips against his swollen, tender ones.

“It’s awful, isn’t it?” he asked, not sure he wanted the answer. Smiling, she delicately cupped his cheek in her palm, called him a beautiful idiot and told him to get undressed.

And that was the end of it. No flinching, no sad look that was too full of pity. No rallying speech about how he’d be better in no time. She just called him beautiful, like she always did, and called him an idiot. Like she always did. To her, nothing had changed. No matter what his face looked like, he was still him and she still loved him.

In the bath, with her back against his chest, she told him how after he left, she had indeed punched Gale, and she may have accidentally kicked Halsin in the worst possible place as he carried her away from the pier. Both of them were still salty about it. As Astarion gently scrubbed dried blood and dirt from her body and face, she told him how this was the first time she had stopped moving in the 24 hours since the brain had fallen. She had helped refugees and sifted through rubble to find survivors. She’d loaded dead illithids onto carts. She did anything she could to keep herself from running blindly after him into the wreckage of the burning city. Mercifully, Gale had stopped her from trying to cook for the city’s newly unhoused.

Her yawns grew more frequent as they talked. Though she insisted she still wanted him to feed from her, and then, perhaps, make love to her, Astarion could see her spirit was willing, but the flesh was growing weaker by the moment.

They were both still naked when he carried her to bed in the gray hour before dawn. She rolled onto her side to give him access to her neck and was fast asleep before he finished feeding.

Astarion woke from true sleep as the sun was setting on the following evening. Tav was still asleep, curled with her back against his chest in the same position she had been when he had drifted off himself. It wasn’t dark enough yet for him to venture out, but in truth, very little could have made him want to. He was still amazed at how her blood sang in his veins, how it had repaired most of the sun’s damage, leaving only a few faint red lines on the backs of his hands where the burns had been the worst. He’d known he loved her, possibly from the very start when he held a knife to her throat, but any doubts about it had long since evaporated.

As if she could feel him watching her, Tav stirred, muttering in her sleep. He lay beside her, head propped up on one palm, and thought to himself that this was what he wanted most. It wasn’t power, or wealth, or even to be free to walk in the sun again. If this was to be his life, for the rest of his life, it was all he could hope for. He could live without all of the other things if it meant opening his eyes and seeing this beautiful woman, asleep next to him, drooling a little as she snored.

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Notes:

Hope you enjoyed this little fluffy self-indulgent introspection.

Musical Inspiration – Sight of the Sun – Fun, Miss You So Badly – Jimmy Buffett, Hallelujah – Leonard Cohen (Rufus Wainright version)

Visual Inspiration - https://www.tumblr.com/daintysclaw/746584182996844544/the-pic-lmaoo?source=share

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #my writing

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faery-wizard · 2 years

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do a little twirl, halfstep, prance, now its time to necromance! one step more, hands on your head, soon come back the souls of the dead! boom bo bam dadum dudam bum bam bum bum bum badadu dum dam

#something something these skeletons are now alive #wizardposting #wizard #thinking about that one post that goes like

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ao3commentoftheday · 6 months

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I don't know if you've seen the latest iteration of "tumblr is dying" but if you haven't, Automattic (owners of tumblr) have decided they will put the site into maintenance mode. This doesn't mean that tumblr will disappear, it just means that they'll keep the lights on and that's about it. They're taking the staff who have been working hard to try to make the site a success, and they're relocating those folks to other projects. A skeleton crew will remain on tumblr, keeping the site alive.

If we want tumblr to thrive, however, then we need to do something to support it - and that something is financial.

If you're someone who enjoys your time on tumblr and you're someone who has an entertainment budget, then consider visiting the TumblrMart and buying yourself a badge. Go ad-free. Choose the new option that I just discovered which is "Support tumblr" - that's the shiny t badge I now have that will change colour over time for the longer I subscribe.

This doesn't require every single user to pay for tumblr. Far from it. Just look at AO3 as the example. Time after time, they hit their fundraising goals and beyond, and I don't think they've ever had more than 10K individual donors for a userbase of something like 5 million.

I've been on this site for a decade. It's the only social media I actually like. I think the internet would be worse off if tumblr wasn't around. I'm going to pay what I can to keep this community around, and I'm going to encourage others to do the same.

If that's something you don't want to see, then feel free to block the tag subsidize tumblr that I'll use on posts like that. If you're open to the idea, then expect the occasional post from me on the subject.

Fandom has lost enough homes in my lifetime. If I can do anything to keep this one around, I will.

#subsidize tumblr #deliberately not using the word support here #in order to avoid being derailed #if at all possible

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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months

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DC X DP: The Summoning Conditions of the Ghost King.

Danny Fenton is new to his title.

It's been about two years since he defeated Pariah Dark and inherited his seat through the right of conquest. Now Danny knew, on some level, that Pariah was King of Ghosts, but in all honestly, he had been preoccupied with getting his town back from the zone and keeping his friends and family (and the rest of the town, he guessed) alive.

The victory had been just within the lines of a fair fight, only because a dew ghost argued that his shifting his dad's ecto-skeleton suit was a form of armor only after his power ran over it.

If Danny had fought in the ecto-skeleton suit without doing so then it would not have been considered a fair fight as it wasn't his own strength, and thus, he would not won the right of conquest.

But he did. And now Danny was crowned Ghost King. Which came with all sorts of responsibilities and proper conduct for someone of his new stature.

Many ghosts were willing to teach him the way- Princess Dora, Clockwork, Frostbite, Ghostwriter, and even the Observants- but Danny struggled to adjust. He had no idea being King meant he had to play diplomat to the literal multiverse- as the Ghost Zone or Infinite Realms touched every possible world at every possible time- and follow specific rules of being a Ghost.

A vampire could not entire a home without being invited in.

A fae could not take control over a human without knowing their name.

And a ghost could not make a chance to the living plane without meeting requirements, like an agreement on a contract.

That was why the Ghosts never passed Amity Park's limits and why Pariah Dark had chosen to take the town into his domain instead of expanding his attack. The Fentons have unknowingly created an open contract with anything that could get past their portal by opening it up and claiming themselves the protectors against ghosts kind.

If a ghost could defeat everyone in the Fenton household- as the ground of where the zone was open and the beings calling that location a home- then they would become the portal's rulers and be able to leave the city. Thankfully, that contact applied to Danny, and he had never lost, no matter who challenged him.

His ghost sense activated the contract, alerting him of a new challenger. After finding his family contract, Danny had thrown a fit in the Ghost King's Keep. Thankfully, he could close it with the help of Clockwork, who agreed to be his final challenger, and once he won, the portal was forever closed.

Danny then discovered he had to create his own Ghost Conditions as Phantom, The Protective Spirt of Amity Park, and Phantom, the Ghost King. He argued with the Infinite Releams council, something he installed to help him rule and to lowkey have them continue to govern themselves with his own laws, keeping them from killing each other- until his core began to deteriorate the more he neglected his Ghost Conditions.

Clockwork has to intervene, telling him in little words to write up his Ghost Conditions and have them ready in a month or experience his soul being ripped apart by nature.

Danny agreed to write up the Conditions as soon as he could....and then did what any sixteen-year-old teenager would do with a work assignment. He procrastinated until the night before it was due.

Panicked, he sat down in front of his laptop to write, telling his parents he had a big essay due and could not answer any calls until late.

At three am of the following day, Clockworked appeared for his Ghost Conditions which outlined his limitations and certain requirements for Danny to operate.

He worked hard on Phantom, The Protective Spirt of Amity Park, to allow him to live everyday human life and shift into a ghost to protect his town whenever he needs to. He ensured that he could not be used to cause human death by a weapon in a mortal war, and his condition for working on behalf of a human was to have a recommendation letter from both FrostBite and Clockwork out of both ghost-freewill.

He figured it would make it practically impossible to make him a weapon or make him do anything against his will. He didn't want to end up like Ember or Desiree, who relied on mortals to get power, but he also did not want to be so obsessive about protecting something he forwent everything like Sculker or Walker.

He spent so much time on it that he forgot to leave time to work on the Phantom, and Ghost King lists until his eyes were dropping closed and Clockwork was messaging him that he was on his way to both lists.

Danny panicked and wrote something down- hoping he would redo the assignment later on- just to have something to turn in. The lack of sleep and stress caused him to not think clearly.

When he woke seven hours later, he realized this wasn't just some English assignment he could ask his teacher to let him redo. This was set in stone conditions and said conditions had already been passed around the multiverse. Some of his work even appears in his timeline, in some ancient civilization, thanks to Clockwork flinging copies of his Ghost Conditions into time portals.

Thank the Ancient Cores that Danny had copied and pasted the parts of about not making him a weapon for mortal wars or mindlessly killer. He hoped that it wouldn't come to bite him in the ass.

It bit him in the ass a week later when an alien threat so big the Heros of the Justice League were so desperate for a counter-attack they allowed Batman to attempt to summon the Ghost King even at the Justice League Dark's warning.

Batman had known about the Ghost King's Summoning Conditions from his time with Ra's Al Ghul. It was, after all, Ra's civilization that had been the one to find Danny's list from Clockworks time portals.

Danny knew this because one of the conditions was letting him know of the human's intention before they could summon him. He honestly heard whatever Batman was thinking and whatever the man could hear.

"Bats, this is baty even for you!" A disembodied voice hissed. Danny was startled so hard on his bed, having been scrolling on his phone when the British man spoke.

"If we can convince the King that the lives of Earth are at risk, he will aid us in the battle. He can not kill humans, but the aliens are not human." Batman answered, and Danny felt his core drop. Oh no. a loophole.

"Or he could kill everything around in a fit of rage!" The other man yelled. "No one understands the Ghost King! His Conditions were so open-ended anything could happen!"

Hey, Danny thought they were pretty solid, actually.

"Doesn't matter. We are out of options." Batman replied, and between one moment and the next, Danny was floating above a summoning circle, still wearing his snowflake pajamas- complete with a large holding- his phone in the same lying on his stomach position.

Thankfully, he was in his ghost form.

"What-"

"Phantom, Ghost King, I call upon you for aid. The lives of all human life are at risk of destruction." Batman said, his thoughts silent like the grave, and Danny had no idea what he was thinking.

Danm. Danny's wording of "Knowing a human's intention before summoning the King" meant that he could not hear the human's intention once the summon happened. Maybe his language was too open-ended.

"Ugh." He slowly sat up in a cross-leg position, eyeing the gathered heroes. It looked like all of the Justice League was present- all looking worse for wear. Whatever aliens were, the League wasn't kidding when they sent out an emergency shelter notice. "Um, that is...Well, you see, the funny thing is you have to pass some trials before I can help you. Batman Sir."

The Dark Knight showed no outward emotion as he nodded even as a few heroes seemed confused by Danny's nervousness. "I will undergo them."

Please disagree. Danny wanted to scream, flushing a bright green. He wrote those trails in two minutes. They are embarrassing!

Instead, he heard himself say as if speaking from his frozen ice core. "You must pass all my trails. The first shall begin right now and you must have opponents of those you cherish the most. They must be someone you love so much that the thought of them hurting will destroy you. They must take part now or drop dead if they refuse."

A glowing green snowflake appears under the feet of five individuals in the crowd. Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan and Spoiler.are dragged to the front of the crowd, to stand next to Batman in the Ghost Kind's trails.

Batman froze and a man in a trench coat swore. "I warned you!"

"Wait!" Flash yelled, but it was too late. The Ghost King Trails had already begun. Danny wanted to scream, but he felt his body move one arm up, creating a sizeable frozen slate of ice to hover over the heroes.

A familiar song filled the air as smaller slates appeared before each hero. Words slowly carved across the large and small ice, much to the confusion of everyone present.

"Is...Is this Kahoot?" Red Robin dared to ask, watching the words finish being made, and the Kahoot music continued to count down.

Danny wants to hide his face in his hands, but he instead shouts, "The first to twenty is the victor and shall be the one I shall give my aid to! Now time is running out, humans, pick your answer for... Question one...According to the Ghost King, which Gotham hero has the best ass?"

Ding.

Everyone turned to Orphan when she quickly pressed B. on her ice tablet. Since she was the only one who moved in time before the timer ran out, her answer was displayed before all eyes.

She chose correctly. B. for Red Robin.

Orphan shrugs at Red Robin's gape. "His Highness' eyes did a slow up and down when they spotted you. It wasn't hard to guess."

Danny thought making a Kahoot was fast, and no one would be able to guess the answers to questions about himself. He thought it was foolproof.

He was wrong.

"Question two: Which is the prettiest star in the Milky Way!" Danny shouts in a pompous tone that contradicts his embarrassed frown and glowing green blush.

The heroes of Gotham stare at him before they all press A for Sirius.

"How!?" He asks when all of them get the answer right. Right now, Orphan is winning, so she is the closest to his contact dealer.

"You're wearing the star on your nightcap," Red Hood deadpans.

"Q-Question three.....What is the Ghost King's favorite Holiday?"

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.

Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, Spoiler, and Orphan picked D. for Halloween but only Batman chooses correctly with B. for Valentine's Day.

He does not explain how he knows that, and Danny is starting to worry the greatest detective in the world is going to figure all his answers out, and he will end up serving them.

Sweating, he moves on to the next question as John Consistent watches on, wondering if he indeed was an Occult expert as he thought or not because none of what was happening was what he thought would happen.

They may stand a chance yet.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #The Summoning Conditions of the Ghost King #ghost king danny #crack taken seriously #Danny's trails are what you expect from a procrastinator #The bats are literally the best detectives ever #They are breezing through trail one #John Constantine would kick his Occult degree in the trash if he had one after this #Dead tired

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talesofsonicasura · 3 months

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To Save A DogDay

I couldn't help but write this after seeing the constant dedication of saving the giant toy doggo. So here's something to assist you guys in the effort. I've done some research(even though Google was being an ass) and took a look at this particular post by @dafloof

First off, DogDay is surprisingly big despite being cut in half. If I have to compare his size then think of those giant plushies you win from a theme park or carnival game. Thus the only possible carry for the average person to safely escort him is bridal or hanging off like a koala on the side due to the grab pack. He might be able to shrink himself to a more manageable size if DogDay is similar to CatNap in body structure.

Although that doesn't mean the task is impossible outside of adrenaline. DogDay may be big you got to think about his possible weight. Bigger Bodies are still toys with the Smiling Critters being plushies. How much of him is stuffing and not organs?

The necessary body parts for him to still be alive are the lungs, heart, brain, stomach, and some sort of skeletal structure. Here's a weight chart for the average human. (Although these might be smaller if harvested back as a child than an adult.)

Stomach: 2-4 pounds/lbs

Brain- 2.5 pounds/lbs

Heart- 0.25 pounds/lbs

Lungs- 1.8 pounds/lbs

Human Skeleton- 15-25 pounds/lbs

Average weight here 21.05 - 31.05 lbs. His arm bones might be reinforced similar to the Prototype but they still wouldn't be that heavy. For carrying in your arms, 35- 55 lbs is what the the untrained person can hold. Body weight contributes to how much someone can carry with a 139 lbs untrained woman being able to deadlift around 74 lbs. For men it is 125 lbs for 148 lbs.

Adrenaline can help contribute to this as there have been feats done by people in dangerous situations. One example being a human mother fighting off a polar bear to protect her kids or someone moving a car by themselves to get free. We can do insane things when it comes to survival.

There's also the mental side to this. Our brains actually diminish the perception of how strong we are by 40%. If you carry something you love or cherish like a person, then they can weigh less just from that viewpoint. Sometimes thinking like the Little Engine That Could will make a difference.

Now I am not forgetting the dangerous little critters. There are ways to deal with them and have enough time to bring DogDay along. In his cell, there are two ports they can crawl out of. Blocking these whether by flares or stuffing them with nearby items can do the trick.

Second is bribery. We aren't restricted to the environment like in the game and throughout the facility there are intact vending machines. The toys obviously need to eat but seem unable get into the machines. YOU CAN.

Break the glass and stockpile as much snacks as possible. Finding bags or boxes to carry them wouldn't be hard. Offer these to the little Critters in exchange for DogDay. You can open one bag for further incentive as the chance to get a special treat is something no one will be able to resist.

DogDay might be able to drag himself so breaking the chains with the Grab Pack or a different tool is possible. They are probably rusty thus easier to break. It will obviously hurt for DogDay to drag his body so stealing something like a cushion from CatNap's hideyhole could ease the pain.

Should that not be the case then other options are available. Considering Playcare is a fun house, you might be able to find scooterboards or a platform cart to carry him. If not then a makeshift sled to pull DogDay about is the next best move.

Now there's actually another escape route. A duck ride that you couldn't access in the game due to bugs. I think Mob was planning for a chase down there as it is fully fleshed out with puzzles and an environment.

DogDay can hold onto the boat while you solve the puzzles to get out. For those who hadn't chosen bribery then flares will keep pursuing Little Critters away. Maybe set a fire as you escape since there's plenty of items to make a molotov cocktail if crafty enough.

I suggest finding some walkie talkies as someone needs to look after DogDay. The area under the statue can be a possible safe spot but being able to contact Kissy Missy and Poppy will better the chances of his recovery than just survival. Both know the factory's inner works enough to remain hidden so they might know where to find supplies. A possible ally with valuable info can sway them to help.

There is also the option of coming back to Playcare. DogDay might still be alive as you can hear his muffled cries during the chase. He might be worse for wear due to the little menaces piloting him like a bootleg Megazord. Walkie talkies can help you page Kissy Missy to help with escorting the Bigger Body safely.

It is possible to save DogDay if you are smart or crafty enough to use the environment. The factory offers a lot of potential options to help with that. Do know that you can turn a simple water gun into a flamethrower.

Why follow the rules of the game when there are ways to break them?

#sonicasura #tales of sonicasura #poppy playtime #ppt #smiling critters #dogday #poppy playtime dogday #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime deep sleep #poppy playtime smiling critters #writing ideas #writing prompts #sorta #inspiration #save the doggo #poppy playtime spoilers

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nonomives · 11 months

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Hunt vs. Hunted AU

(a.k.a. Vampire Wally AU)

Meet the Kardashians—i mean the Pillars

Part 1 || 2 || 3

Character line-up (Oldest to youngest)

So a bit of character Info:

There were more of them, but given the dangers of the monster hunter's profession, theyre the only ones left.

Hannah Pillar

She isn't the actual eldest sibling of the bunch, but among those who are still alive and somewhat sane, she is the oldest. A former mercenary whose main weapons were firearms. She was quite successful in her career but a traumatic incident happened that led to her not being able to weild a gun anymore. She eventually got hired as a desk worker in H.A. (Hunter's Assossiation) mainly handing out missions or intel to monster hunters.

She has a stable relationship with all of her siblings, sometimes the person everyone tells their worries to. She's nutruing and mature, but can also be quite cold and strict when need be. She is also often apathetic to things around her, something that got carried over even after she stopped being a hunter.

Harvey Pillar

Acting second oldest, Harvey is the genius of the group, or so he constantly claims himself to be. There is truth to what he says though since he works as a researcher in H.A. where he gathers information about the various mythical creatures the company had captured. Once, he used to admire this type of work until witnessing a thing or two which led him to be quite nihilistic. He's mainly just in it for the bragging rights and the money now.

Complete drama queen. Heidonistic and arrogant, he can come off as an asshole once he opens his mouth. Hannah keeps him in check most of the time. He does try to act like a big brother but struggles to be sincere about anything because he thinks it's a weakness. Very insecure, easily gets envious, especially of Howdy. For as vocal as he is, he does have many skeletons in his closet.

Howdy Pillar

A very popular hunter that is crowned The Hero of the Century, succeeding his late older brother, Howard Pillar. This is all due to his countless instances of saving people from dangerous monsters, especially feral vampires. Add this and his family background, he was made the H.A.'s face man, appearing in many interviews and posters for the company. He is quite the busy man, and Hannah usually acts as his manager, helping him with his packed schedule.

Howdy is closest with Hannah, but he also enjoys the banters he gets with Harvey. Charismatic and witty, many would think he is a perfect person, the ideal hero. The reality of it though is that Howdy is only in it for the revenge of his deceased siblings. While he smiles and acts relaxed in public, he is otherwise serious and gruff. Doesnt trust easy either. He also doesnt like how the media portrays him and would try to avoid being detected by anybody while he's on the job.

Here's a sketch lol

Honey Pillar

The youngest of the group. She is the black sheep of the family, refusing to associate with H.A. or monster hunting in general, and choosing a career as an actress instead. Despite the controversy that came with this decision, Honey ended up becoming famous because of her alluring personality on the screen.

Aside from Hannah, she despises everyone. She hates Howdy especially because of an instance that lead to her twin sister's death and her loss of 2 arms. She hates Harvey a little less but prefers not talking to him at all. Honey is a drama queen herself, but in a less direct way.

#this will probs be the last post i make for a while #i have to focus on my acads so my activity here will be dead lmao #therare some stuff Ive got planned tho! like a couple animatics ive been dying to finish and show yall #so just expect that :3 #in the mean time #see yall after my break lol--#welcome home #welcome home fanart #welcome home oc #welcome home howdy #howdy pillar #welcome home vampire wally au #i might actually change this to a different title bc vampire wally is too common a name lol--#lmao #vampire wally au #welcome home hunt vs. hunted AU

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vivulapom · 1 month

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Broken Things

Caretaker rushes into the basement, although "dungeon" might be a better word. It's cold, and dark, and surprisingly wet---the only sounds are that of Caretaker's breathing and the dripping, coming from somewhere.

Teammates are up above, and they'll probably want to pick this place apart, but Caretaker is only worried about one thing right now. They walk quickly, almost running, to peek in every cell.

Most of them are empty. One has something dark and vaguely human-shaped inside of it, and although the noxious scent of rot makes Caretaker's stomach turn, it's slightly comforting---Whumpee wouldn't have been down here long enough to turn into *that*. Right?

Others have similar bodies, in various states of decomposition. Many of them are missing limbs, and one is still faintly warm, surrounded by ashes, burnt so severely that some of their blackened skeleton is exposed. Probably not Whumpee either. Probably.

Eventually, after however many cells, Caretaker finds one in specific. They almost pass it over---the dark form on the floor could be nothing more than a trick of the light. But it's not. Caretaker rushes in. It's Whumpee.

"Mangled" is the first word that comes to mind. Mangled, but in a more deliberate, more *personal* way than being mangled after a long fall, or a car crash. Caretaker can't see any bones that *aren't* broken in one way or another. It breaks Caretaker's heart---how long have they been lying here?

Whumpee is covered in blood, much of it dry, some of it fresh. It looks like they've been covered in red paint. Their hair is almost fused to their skin, with how dirty and matted it is.They *are* breathing, but just barely---it's shallow and labored. Their eyes are open, but they're glazed and unfocused. Alive, but very close to dead. Caretaker, very carefully, takes Whumpee and cradles them in their arms, wiping their bloody brow with a sweaty palm. It's going to be difficult to move Whumpee without further damage.

Caretaker hears footsteps, but from the clomp of the boots and the length of the gait, it's Team Leader. Caretaker calls out: "In here!"

Team Leader rounds the corner. "We're just about finished.." they trail off, their breath catching when they see Whumpee.

Caretaker only now realizes they've started crying. They attempt to speak, but the words lose their footing and fall into a sob.

"They're not dead yet," says Team Leader, ever the utilitarian. Their voice is hard, but Caretaker knows they're probably just as distressed, inside. "You think it'd be easier if we.. oh, fuck it."

Team Leader steps in and reaches down to take Whumpee in their arms.

"What are you doing?" says Caretaker, a bit angrier than intended. "They can't.."

"The only thing I care about right now is getting them out of here, Caretaker." To their credit, Team Leader holds Whumpee very, very carefully, like a piece of pottery that could shatter at any moment. It pains Caretaker to see Whumpee like this, like just another broken thing.

Even if they're not dead, even if they don't die.. how alive will they be, after it's all over? *I guess it is over now*, thinks Caretaker. Very quietly, they follow Team Leader back towards the sunlight.

#whump #whumpblr #whumpee #whump drabble #whump scenario #whump writing

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drabblesandimagines · 7 months

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Code Pizza

Leon Kennedy x fem reader Established relationship, fluff 1,531 words

“Can’t you go any faster?” The barrel of a gun is pressed against the already tender spot from where they’d oh-so-kindly whacked you round the head earlier and you wince, losing the slight flow you’d managed to build up on the keyboard – Leon’s words echoing around your head.

“Promise me you won’t ever do any of that self-sacrificing bullshit,” he’d mumbled in your ear, arms wrapped around you in bed. He’d got back from a mission that afternoon – been awful quiet about what it had entailed, what had happened and you hadn’t pressed.

“Me?”

“Mm. Like, if… If someone’s forcing you to do something – do it, we’ll sort out the mess later. You make sure you’re home and alive at the end of the day.” His voice sounded almost strained. “Just promise me, sweetpea.”

“I promise.”

Not exactly sure if this scenario was exactly what Leon had had in mind, but there’s a gun and a threat, so you’re typing… or at least attempting to.

“She’d be faster if you’d untied her hands.” Hunnigan grumbled from behind, seated in an office chair with her hands zip-tied behind her back. Yours are bound in front of you, keeping your wrists crossed, and essentially cutting one hand out of action entirely.

“Is that true?” Your minder – A, you decide to call him - leans forward into your peripheral vision, though his face is obscured by a ski mask – as is his companion’s – B - standing over Hunnigan. They’re geared up to the nines, spare ammo dangling off tactical belts, part of a larger operation in order to gain access to DSO HQ and you, apparently. The doors are locked down due to the emergency protocol, though the HQ works on a skeleton crew at the weekend so it’s possible that no-one even knows you and Hunnigan are in.

“100 words per minute at my best.” You shrug, eyes skimming over the code you’ve managed to get through so far. “I’m probably working at… 15 and less. So, yeah, it would be faster.”

“Nice try.” B states. “You’re writing code, not a novel.”

“Novel, no. Poetry, maybe...” You trail off. It would be a lot easier if you did have both of your hands, weren’t being held at gunpoint and not suffering from a raging headache.

You weren’t even supposed to be working, it being a Sunday. You’d been in yesterday working overtime on a project, but this morning had been spent catching up on dull chores around the house – laundry, going to the store, cleaning - and then the plan had been an afternoon of video games on the sofa, ordering a pizza for dinner, accompanied by a bottle of wine. Leon had been away a couple of days on a need-to-know basis and you didn’t have a date of when he’d be back, though he did always try and give you a couple of hours’ heads up on his impending arrival.

Early afternoon, just as you’d sat down, controller in hand, you’d got a call. Not from your boyfriend, however, but from one Ingrid Hunnigan, extremely apologetic but there had been urgent developments – vague, as always – and she needed you in ASAP. You’d agreed, couldn’t really refuse her, but you’d decided in a slight show of protest you weren’t getting changed into your more professional work wardrobe. If it truly was an emergency, they’d have to deal with you in your jeans and t-shirt…

..which had led to the nasty bruise on your temple when the intruders had burst in, taking you as a civilian to be subdued. When you came to, hands now bound, head thudding, fingers being snapped in front of your face to get your attention, you were wheeled in front of the computer terminal and given your objective.

“It’s faster in the movies.” A comments, waving the gun lazily now at least.

“We’re not in the movies.” You grumble back, irritated. “I’m writing a bespoke code to get into this system.”

B comes to stand at your side, then. “Well, our contact promised us that you were some sort of genius at this sort of stuff.”

“Maybe when I’m not concuss-” You’re cut off by him slamming his fist on the desk besides you, making you jump and your heart pound.

“Enough lip, enough excuses. Concentrate.”

You shuffle in the seat, repositioning your hands and continue on with what’s been demanded of you, Leon’s words echoing in your mind.

Your phone emits a jingle from your pocket – speak of the devil…

“What’s that?” B demands, looking around.

“It’s my phone – just a text.”

“You were meant to search her, you idiot.” B chides his companion. “Where is it?”

“Jacket pocket.” It chimes again.

“Someone’s popular.” You bite your tongue as he crouches down besides you, placing a hand unnecessarily on your thigh as he dips his hand in your pocket, fishing it out. “Who’s LSK?”

“My boyfriend.” You don’t need to turn to know Hunnigan’s trying to hold in a grin.

“Says he’s on his way home, wants to know if you’re there.”

“Can you tell him I’m working late and he should order pizza for dinner? I haven’t been grocery shopping yet and I was meant to.”

“I’m not your secretary,” B scoffs.

The phone chimes again. You’d set Leon’s messages to that obnoxious sound to be sure you heard it, not wanting to miss a chance to text with him whilst he was away. If he had time on his hands, his texts often turned to stream of consciousness until he got a reply.

“You ignoring me, sweetpea? God, he’s a bit needy, isn’t he?”

“He’ll just keep doing it unless I text back,” you pause in your typing, “Or I can do it…”

“Ah-ah, keep working.” B replies, tapping at your phone’s keyboard.

It chimes again and B sighs.

“He wants to know what you want.”

“Er…” You hesitate a moment, pretending to doublecheck a string value. “Veggie. Extra jalapenos.”

He taps again and sends, before placing your phone down on the desk out of reach. His hand squeezes your shoulder and he leans in. “Keep coding like a good girl, and we’ll make sure you get home for that pizza.”

You don’t know how he managed it with the protocols in place – surely it means there’ll be another security review - but a mere 45 minutes later after ordering your pizza, Leon comes crashing down from the ceiling, taking out A and B with single, effective shots in the chest as he does.

He forward rolls out of the impact and gets to his feet with a flourish.

“Sorry for the wait, ladies, pizza’s free since it wasn’t 30 minutes or less.” He grins, heading to Hunnigan first and cutting through her restraints.

“Do I even want to ask?” Hunnigan quirks an eyebrow, rubbing her wrists. Leon walks over to you next, crouching down in front of you and cutting your wrists free. “Wait, extra jalapenos?”

“Bingo.” You reply, though unable to tear your eyes away from Leon – he looks tired, not unusual after returning from a mission, in need of a shave. He cups your face, fingers gently brushing over the tender spot on your temple to assess the damage. “It’s a dumb code, we know.”

“No, it obviously worked. Good thinking.” Hunnigan nods, getting to her feet and approaching another terminal, sliding in her keycard to overrule the emergency controls and release the doors. “I need to call this all in – get it tidied up. Did you gain access?”

“No, couple of lines away, though.” You look at the lines of code on the screen. “I did spend a lot of time to make sure it had a real nice interface for when I ran it, for extra pizazz.”

“Good work – both of you.” Hunnigan turns to face Leon directly then, “Make sure you keep an eye on her - took quite a hit.”

“I will. Thanks, Hunnigan.” He remains crouched at your feet, your hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly.

“Good. And don’t come into tomorrow – either of you. I’ll deal with… this.” She strides out with purpose, shoulders back, nothing alluding to the fact that she was a woman who’s been held hostage for the past however many hours.

“You good, sweetheart?”

You smile, staring deep into those blue eyes you adore. “I’m good. You?”

“Won’t lie, not quite the homecoming I expected. Come here.” He pulls you up out of the chair and against his chest, wraps his arms around you and kisses you frantically, though you know it’s in relief.

“Had me worried with those jalapenos,” Leon admits, softly.

“I kept my promise.”

“Mm, not quite.” He pulls back and grins – you know that grin – but you still let out a squeal as he hooks an arm under your legs and picks you up in his arms.

“Leon, I can-“

“Nah, your promise isn’t kept and my mission isn’t over till you’re home. Allow me to give you the full hero experience.”

You roll your eyes, before pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Fine. But we’re still getting pizza.”

“Took the words outta my mouth, sweetpea.”

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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evilminji · 2 months

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We all know how Vlad likes to make clones of Danny and then get rid of them when they don't work out I'm just imagining a entire crack filled idea Ra is one of those clones I just got accidentally into a dimension.

Ra got thrown all the way back in time in a different dimension and is incredibly pissed at Vlad for creating him and worried about Danny if Vlad making more clones like Ra

Out of spite not only does Ra come immortal and try to do glad when it comes to doing shady things to make Danny proud aka the best mother of all times he's also trying to make the world a better place he got the weird balance of Danny along with Vlad obsessions. 100 years into making the colt and being alive Danny finds out about Ross existence as the ghost King and decides you know what I support all my children as a mother even when they are starting coats or planning world domination, and destruction. In the straight up tells Ra don't kill too many people you make mom's job harder and anytime you need something call me I'm proud of you for at least waiting to make the world a better place. Like on the scale of good and bad Danny placed him right in the middle Ellie wants to be a hero and a traveler so if she's in the top when it comes to the good skeleton in the middle scale is Ra cuz does he own a cult yes but he also wants to make a world a better place, and Dan is at dead last for just wanting destruction sometimes but he's working on it he does clay art now.

Ra also inherited Danny's ability to make things chaotic without even trying. I just see Rose dropping to Talia and Damien sometimes while your great/grandmother was country but other than I don't think we have any more races mixed with us.

Or he just drops I'm not laying tally I have the sleeping normally my mother was 14 when he had my siblings in me and mother described it as going to do with excruciating hell.

Talia has been tired argument with Ra after he accidentally just straight up says well great grandfather was grandmother's uncle he did go to school with mother's parents and was best friends with mother's father.

Tim is so confused and all he wants his answers in the background .

I can just see Ra comparing Damien's fearless his old mother's fear illness he will mention of nowhere mother fist fought father when they first met or mother can break a wall with a single hit of their head.

Talia is going to be so confused when they find out that only is mother a crazy batshit person he's also the ghost King.

Talia staring at Grandma who is the ghost King: father did you not think this was important to tell me sooner.

Ra: I have mentioned this before in one of my conversations about mother you just weren't listening Talia.

Danny in the background frelingover his kid and his grandchildren along with great grandchild.

Ra full name is Ra Al Ghul 'Dirgham' Fenton Master

Danny says they had to keep with the cycle of the names no matter where they are in the name.

(This is also my secret chance to finally Vlad Masters as Arabic you can pray that out of my cold dead hands Danny American-born Chinese who who has a very strong country accident because of his father)

Any who don't have to write this I just hope you had a good laugh form my stupid writing I really do love your work hope you have a fun time reading this ╰⁠(⁠*⁠´⁠︶⁠`⁠*⁠)⁠╯＼⁠(⁠^⁠o⁠^⁠)⁠／

Not stupid! I got my first Ficlette! :D this is amazing and thank you! I did enjoy it!

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 7 months

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Hello are you still doing the SAGAU for reader gets mad and blowing up at people for certain characters? If you are can you do traveler or Lumine if you don’t want to do a general head cannon and fischl still? I’m so angry about how many NPC world quests that now seem like a pattern of traveler helps and then gets backstabbed and left to die and just really think those NPC need to under stand the gravity and anger of the players.

Hello, @celestialsiren! Yes, supposedly, I am still doing this series lol—I don't see why I should end it, seeing as there's always new characters that people request for. Ofc I'll do the Traveler!

Click Me For Part 1!

Click Me For Part 2!

Click Me For Part 3!

Reader Defending the Traveler! (Also No Vice Versa)

(Disclaimers: This May be OOC, And This Post Will Mainly be Using Lumine as "The Traveler." However, This Post Still Can Be Read as GN!Traveler or Aether.)

Lumine

To be frankly honest, I think you (the Reader) would feel pretty connected to Lumine. She's understanding, she's calm, and most importantly, she gets what it's like not to be from Teyvat. She's passed the celestial atlas to venture the world that is Teyvat, only to be prevented by the Unknown God.

Safe to say, you both were like two peas in a pod. And you were willing to travel with her and find her brother. Lumine gets you a lot, and you refuse any harm coming her way.

That includes verbal complaints. Like, honestly—Lumine's done so much for Teyvat for an outlander, and this is how they treat her?! You weren't having it.

So you planted your foot down, and boy, was your glare menacing. Your words were harsher than the blizzards of Dragonspine, and your glare was as menacing as the Dead Skeleton of Orobashi in Watatsumi Island.

Anyone who you deemed as enemy—in this situation, these good-for-nothing, took-for-granted gossipers—was paling at the seems of the Almighty Creator stomping their egos down. And, not gonna lie, Lumine kinda likes watching some of them. Some of the insults you used were actually used in other worlds—something only Lumine would know, but others didn't. It was kind of hilarious.

Alas, she can't have you go around and go all out all the time. Someone needs to make sure that the Creator doesn't try to decimate random folks, even if they are pretty infuriating.

"Your Grace." Lumine puts her hand on your shoulder. "Let's hurry up and finish this commission. We still need to get those rewards." You huff, but you let the insulters go, without a threatening note.

Yeah...she was not expecting to be an occurrence with so many other characters, but hey! Lumine's not gonna stop you :)

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: And we're done! Sorry if it's really low quality lol—I am so tired as I'm writing this :') I do hope you guys enjoyed it, though! Don't feel discouraged to keep sending me requests!

At this rate requests are probably the only thing that's keeping my blog alive. My blog is on constant life support LOL

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #sagau x reader #genshin self aware #sagau #sagau genshin #yandere sagau #sagau brainrot #genshin cult au #sagau cult au #sagau lumine #sagau aether #sagau traveler

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skelesunderthetale · 6 months

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What makes them happy

🎡 Undertale (Classic): He’s a simple guy. The kind to try and appreciate every moment. What makes him happy is probably also the most important thing for him: his family. Nothing can make Sans smile more than a nice hang out with his brother, either it be at home or going out for some food. Papyrus is always there to chit chat with him, and he likes listening. But all of the above can apply to his special someone… Underfell (Red): Another simple guy! He likes when someone thinks about him, in general. Obviously, he very rarely felt that way considering his universe is the contrary of kindness. It did happen, long ago, that his brother would make cards or handmade gifts for him. It’s the fact that those things were directed to him that made him so happy. Now, any kind of attention towards him makes his soul skip a beat. Underswap (Blue): Holidays, his favorite thing ever. He just absolutely adores seeing everyone gather up, naturally happy and appreciating each other's company. Any kind of event that includes him welcoming people to his home, cooking and providing for them. He loves feeling helpful and making others feel at ease. Blue likes the simplicity of holiday joy, that’s when he feels the happiest. Dreamtale (Dream): Similar to Blue, of course he likes helping others, it’s his duty and reason to be alive. However… We all have a selfish side, and his selfishness created the fact that what makes him happy is getting favors in return. Not anything life threatening, just a task to assign someone in return for his protection. He also likes being pampered. He takes care of everyone, why can’t somebody hug him too? He’d very much like that, and he deserves it. Dreamtale (Nightmare): Now why would he want to be happy? He hates it and hates everyone in this stupid post. Kidding. Sadly for him, it makes his soul tingle a bit in happiness when he gets something new to read. He especially likes those big spined books, with shiny writing and sometimes embroidery of uncommon color. He’s also a fan of classic old decor, as long as it’s dark enough. He likes his environment, that’s what makes him… Satisfied.

Inktale (Ink): It’s confusing him. Sometimes he likes things, and other times he hates said things. But something he obviously likes is art. Art is so vague, it can represent anything, it can even make the worst soulless ink-made skeleton in the universe relate to an ambiance or sentiment. It doesn’t need to be happy to be beautiful, and neither does he. That’s what he likes so much about it.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #dreamtale #inktale #undertale aus #sanses #headcanons #sanses x reader #sanses x s/o #sans x reader headcanons #sans x reader #ink sans x reader #fell sans x reader #swap sans x reader #nightmare sans x reader #dream sans x reader

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shanastoryteller · 10 months

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Happy Pride Month! Do you have more time travel drarry? Thanks so much

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5

Dealing with the basilisk feels anticlimatic.

The basilisk isn't all that interested in killing students - which probably should have been obvious, since if she was they'd all be dead. Now that Tom isn't here to order her around, she promises to stay in her dark, dank, depressing chamber.

He's being emotionally manipulated by a snake and the worst part is it's working. He translates for Draco, depending on him to be an asshole and get them out of this, but of course he's determined to let Harry down at every opportunity.

"We could probably spruce it up a little in here," Draco says "This is Salazar Slytherin's chamber, it can't have looked like this while he was alive. I can't believe Voldemort didn't bother to do some cleaning - no, wait, I can, he probably thought all the skeletons added to his dark lord atmosphere or whatever."

"Seriously?" Harry asks.

"Don't you know how to clean? I feel like you mentioned something about being treated like a house elf in one of your depressing monologues during school," he says and Harry is going to strangle him and blame it on the basilisk. "I can do a lot with vanishing spells, but I am willing to follow your lead on the rest of it, you know, the manual labor part. Since you're the expert."

"How are you more annoying now than when we were actually twelve?" he asks.

Draco shrugs. "You were mad at everything when we were twelve, so I probably didn't make as big of an impression. Or maybe I did. You were obsessed with me for a while."

"I was obsessed with you?" he sputters. "If anything-"

"Harry, please, can you whine and work at the same time? We have a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it in."

Maybe this whole thing actually is a curse after all. It certainly feels like one.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #cherryblossomshadow #harry potter

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jessmaybank · 9 months

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Cardigan - part two; heartbeat on the high line

Based on the song Cardigan by Taylor Swift

Series masterlist

Navigation

Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Summary: Rafe has a skeleton in his closet, and it all gets revealed during a party on the cut.

Warnings: swearing, alcohol use, drug dealing, cheating, SMUT, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, being tied up (hands only).

AN: jealousy & hella angst in this one. Flashbacks are in italics!

She stared at the gift Rafe got her for what felt like hours after everybody left. Her head was telling her not to open it. She had a new boyfriend now, and everyone knows the number one rule is no entertaining ex’s. She had already got way too close to Rafe earlier.

Her heart, on the other hand, begged to know what was inside the box. It was like the devil and the angel weighing on her shoulder, and it was eating her alive.

Eventually she gave into her urges, and ripped the box open. She practically chocked on air as she peered at the contents. It was her favourite gold ring that she had lost last summer, one that she had been looking for ever since. Her lips parted at the realisation that Rafe had it the whole time, and he kept it. Why would he keep it?

She thought back to the times that they would be lying in bed together or sunbathing at the beach, and he would always fiddle with it whilst their hands were intertwined. She flinched at the memory.

“Just one more baby. Your doing so good for me” Rafe hums into her clit, the vibrations making her back arch as she nears the edge for the fourth time that night. Rafe had been devouring her pussy mercilessly for the past thirty minutes.

Her arousal was dripping down her legs like honey as she tugged her arms, begging to run her fingers through his hair, but she couldn’t. He had tied her hands to the headboard of her bed as punishment for her attitude tonight.

He continued lapping his tongue harshly over her clit, maintaining eye contact as her legs began to spasm again, the headboard hitting the wall at her erratic movements. His jaw was aching, but for this view, it was fucking worth it. Her eyes were lidded, her cheeks flushed a deep red, and he had to stop himself from flipping her round and fucking her senseless. “Fuck Rafe”

“That’s it. Cum all over my tongue like a good girl” he says lowly, and her mind spiralled as she followed his command, as obedient as ever. Her moans spilled out of her like a waterfall as she came undone, pulling on the headboard once again as her juices coated Rafe’s tongue. Fuck, she tasted so sweet.

“Holy shit” she exhales, her chest rising and falling in line with her heavy pants. She was exhausted. He untied her hands, and he didn’t miss the way she winced as her wrists became free. “Do they hurt?”

“Only a little” she replies, lying down fully on the mattress. He joined her, laying on his side as he peppered sweet kisses on her sore wrists. “I’m sorry baby“ he says, his voice soft.

“Rafe. You just made me cum four times. You have nothing to be sorry about” she laughs, gawking as how adorable he looked when he was concerned. He really was the epitome of perfect.

She expected a smug response from him, but instead she got a soft grin, which made her insides melt. He started fiddling with the ring on her finger, something he would always do when they were lying down together. He just always felt the need to touch her, whether is was sexual or not. His hair was a mess even though she didn’t touch it, and she couldn’t help but trail her eyes over the freckles on his nose. “I love you”

She said it without a second thought. Without thinking. They had never said I love you before, even though she was pretty sure he felt it too. Her eyes grew wide. Rafe was smiling from ear to ear.

“I love you too baby” he confirms, and if she wasn’t so tired, she could of cried.

She pecked his bruised lips, smiling into the kiss, and it dawned on her then that no one else would ever compare to him. He was it.

Her eyes became glossy as she stared at the piece of jewellery. She hated that something so simple could get to her like this. She hated that as much as she wanted her love for him to become evanesced, she knew it never would. She was too far gone.

She turned her attention away from the box as her phone buzzed. A sinking feeling sat in the pit of her stomach as she realised it wasn’t the person she really wanted to hear from. It was from her boyfriend, Adam.

She ignored his message, coming to the conclusion she wasn’t in the mood to talk to him tonight. And as she let the silence within the room engulf her, she realised she needed to get the hell out of the house.

A friend to all is a friend to none

The air was thick with uncertainty as she gallivanted up the lit driveway, pebbles crunching under her feat as she approached the worn out door, before giving it a half hearted knock. She had called Sarah in need of a distraction, and the blonde offered her one within minutes. Granted, it was a party on the cut, but anything would suffice at this point.

A few minutes later, she found Sarah outside in the garden. As it turned out, she too had a new boyfriend, but she was shook to her core when she discovered he was a pogue. It seemed the kook princess had finally gone rogue, and to be honest, she was here for it.

“This is Pope, Kiara, JJ and John B” Sarah says, gesturing to her friends as she goes round the circle of people which sat on logs in front of them both. The once roaring campfire was now a bunch of extinguished flames, and the air was rather smoky.

“Hey” she greets them, a faint smile gracing her lips as she takes a seat next to the blonde, who she now knew as JJ. She recognised Kiara from school, but other than that, she was clueless. She never really hung around the cut that much before she left for college. “Beer?” JJ says, passing her a can as she nods.

That was the start of a blossoming friendship.

She spoke to the pogues for what felt like hours, and she was pleasantly surprised at how nice they were. When they were together, Rafe would always feed her bullshit about how all pogues are trouble, and she should stay away from them. She felt so guilty for believing him all those years, and she wondered how many other times she had let him brainwash her. Her insides twisted at the thought.

“JJ it doesn’t matter how many times you say it, the Lego movie was not good” Pope says, an amused look on his face as he bickers with his best friend.

“If you had any taste my friend, you would know it’s a timeless classic!” JJ exclaims, his cheeks flushed a deep red. They were all pretty drunk.

“I think timeless classic is a bit of a stretch” Sarah giggles, and everyone laughs with her.

“Uh Sarah, what’s your brother doing here?” Kiara says, eyebrows furrowed as she stares at something, or rather someone, on the porch.

Her heart dropped as she turned her head, and low and behold, there he was, stood on the wooden decking with his hands in his pockets. He wore a smart black button up with black trousers. To a stranger, he made the perfect businessman.

But he wasn’t fooling anyone else. His bruises were now a deep blossom of watercolour blues and purples. His cut lip was still a crimson red mess. Somehow, he still looked breathtaking. Her life would of been so much easier if he wasn’t so beautiful.

The old Rafe wouldn’t have been caught dead on the cut, so what the hell was he doing here?

“Selling, probably” Sarah says, her features contorting with a mixture of disgust and disappointment as she stares at her brother.

It hurt her seeing the way Sarah looked at her brother. Rafe was by no means perfect, and he often made a habit of hurting the ones around him, but he was also deeply misunderstood. His father had made sure of that since the day he was born.

“He’s dealing again?” She questions softly, mouth agape as she did her best to suppress her shocked expression.

Rafe had a complex history with drugs. The last time they were on good terms, before they broke up and she left for college, he promised her he wouldn’t touch them again, whether that was for personal use or not. Perhaps she was naive for believing him in the first place.

“Well, he denied it when I asked him. But John b saw him leaving Barry’s last week” the younger Cameron says, gesturing to her boyfriend who sat next to her.

She frowned in response, pulling on the loose threads of her sweater as she grew anxious. She couldn’t believe he was selling drugs again, and if he was coming all the way to the cut to sell, he must be desperate. Something else was going on.

Rafe tried to hide it, but she saw the way his eyes widened slightly when he spotted them all outside. And although there were more pressing issues to focus on, such as his sister finding all the coke stuffed in his pockets, all he could concentrate on was how close JJ was to her. How he dipped his head down to whisper something in her ear. His eyes narrowed and his featured hardened as he glared at them. He needed to leave before he killed someone.

She peered at the dying embers in front of her as she attempted to take her mind off him and his intimidating presence, trying her best to listen to whatever nonsense JJ was whispering in her ear. Most of the fire consisted of lifeless pieces of ash, but some embers were still glowing a deep red, clinging on for dear life as they fought to stay lit. She wondered then how long she would be able to hold on for, before her heartbreak got the best of her.

She turned her head just in time to watch Rafe’s figure disappear inside. She tried her best to stay still, but it took her a total of two minutes to give into her urges. “I’m ganna go to the toilet. I’ll be back” she says to the pogues, not waiting for a response before she wonders inside.

Chase two girls, lose the one

Her eyes were cold and sharp as she spotted Rafe on the couch, but he wasn’t alone. A girl was sat on his lap, legs draped over him as she giggled at something he said. It was like all the wind was sucked out of her lungs in that moment. She watched as he dug a bag of coke out of his pocket and passed it to the guy in front of him, taking the cash he offered him in return. It seemed old habits do in fact die hard.

As soon as the guy left, she stormed over to take his place, eyes red with emotional distress. “Fuck off” She says to the girl, motioning for her to get up. Usually she wasn’t this courageous, but she was so angry, she had to hold herself back from dragging her off him by her hair.

“Excuse m-“

“Get off” Rafe says to the girl, retracting his arm from her waist. A rush of pride flooded through her as the girl scoffs before getting up, an angry and embarrassed expression on her face. “I’ll find you later” he mutters to her, watching as she storms off.

“Will you now?” She taunts, her jealousy painfully obvious. He bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a smug smirk, which she noticed. Even though it was extremely toxic, he loved seeing her like this.

“Tell me, how’s your boyfriend?” He teases, a picture of pure enjoyment on his features as he manspreads on the couch.

“Great actually” she lied through her teeth. She hadn’t even talked to him today. “Your dealing again?” She asks rhetorically, a little louder than intended. Rafe looked around at the various people that started to stare, but she couldn’t of cared less. “Are you kidding me?”

“What’s it to you?” He says, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, we’re not doing that Rafe. We both know this isn’t you” she says, eyes pleading for him to stop being cold; to just go back to the same Rafe she fell for.

He let out a sardonic snicker. “You don’t know me Y/N. Not anymore. You made sure of that the day you left” he says, as defensive as ever. His eyes were a dark and intense blue, his jaw clenched with a sudden anger, and she swore she heard her heart break into two then.

“I’m not the one who destroyed our relationship, Rafe. You did that all by yourself” her voice was now a broken whisper as she took one last look at him. His concrete jaw. His eyebrows which were knitted in frustration. His sea-rover blue orbs which were now soft, like two sapphires dipped in milky pools. It took everything in her to turn around and walk away from him.

Every step she took was like walking on shards of glass as she practically jogged out of the house, away from the man she knew she still loved, even if every fibre of her being didn’t want to admit it. She did everything she could to stop the tears which threatened to spill out of her, but it was no use. They just kept coming and coming, leaking out of her like a broken faucet. She slumped herself down on the nearest pavement, head in her hands as she let the tears fall.

Rafe sat on the worn out couch, bouncing his leg in frustration as he stared at the floor. He regretted being so harsh. He knew he was the reason they weren’t together anymore, and that was something he just had to come to terms with. He tried to stay still, to not chase after her, knowing it would probably just end in another argument. But before he knew it, he was storming out of the house.

When you are young, they assume you know nothin’

But I knew you

She felt his presence immediately, but she continued to stare at the road in front of her as Rafe sat on the pavement, their knees almost touching. Their unspoken words flew through the air like a bad storm as he turned his head. He took one look at her tear stained cheeks and almost broke.

“I never took you for a thief” She talks to her fingers, urging herself to look anywhere but his face. “How pogue of you”

His eyebrows knitted in confusion for a moment, before it clicked. “You opened my present” he says, more of a statement than a question.

“I opened it” she confirms. “You kept my ring. Why?”

“Is that not obvious?” He couldn’t let go.

She turned to face him then, drowning in his eyes. They were the deepest shade of blue she had ever seen.

Their conversation was interrupted as her phone started ringing. She dug her phone out of her pocket, and sighed when the screen lit up with her boyfriend’s contact. She ended the call.

She could see a glimmer of smugness in his eyes, but as he opened his mouth to speak, she spoke first. “I’m not in the mood for your cocky remarks right now Rafe” his face softens immediately. She could practically reach out and touch the guilt that spread across his face.

“I was going to say I’m sorry. I’ve been a dick. It’s just hard knowing you’re with someone that isn’t me”

She felt her heart shatter then. She wanted to tell him that Adam doesn’t compare to what Rafe and her had. Not even close. He never has, and he never will. She wanted to tell him that she isn’t even close to moving on, that her heart was still his. But she didn’t.

“Tell me what happened to your face. No bullshit” she whispers, eyes trailing to his bruised cheeks, his cut lip. He looked broken.

He sighed as he ran a hand over his face, bracing himself to tell her the truth. “I’m in a bit of trouble” he starts. She began biting her nail, a symbol of her anxiety.

He looked her straight in the eyes as he spoke. “A couple weeks back Barry came to me, said he had a business proposal. He gave me a bunch of weed and coke, told me to sell it to my friends on figure eight. But my dad found it in my room”

She sighed, already knowing where this was going. “He threw it all away, said if he ever found drugs in his house again, he’d kick me out. I told Barry what happened, and he gave me this” Rafe said, pointing to his face.

“How nice of him” she says, sarcasm dripping off her tongue. Her lips twitched with a faint smile, and he matched her expression.

“How much do you owe him?”

“More than I have. My dad won’t help me. Said he’s not letting his hard earned money go to waste on some dirty pogue from the cut. So I have to deal for Barry and do his dirty work for him, until I’ve paid him back” he says, his face a picture of distress. Even though it was his own fault, she felt sorry for him. She couldn’t believe his dad wouldn’t help. Her face softened as a frown threatened to spill from her lips.

It was so strange, seeing one of the richest people in outer banks suffer at the hands of a redneck pogue like Barry. It seemed family fortune meant nothing if your family wouldn’t even share it with you.

She didn’t even think about it when she slipped her hand through his, intertwining their fingers. Rafe drew in a sharp breath, almost gasping as his finger trailed over her ring. She put it on.

“It’s ganna be okay. I have some savings, I can-“

“No, Y/N. This is my fault. I’m fixing it. I’m not dragging you into my shit again. You deserve more than that” he says, eyes twinkling with pain. She suddenly felt the urge to cry as she shook her head.

“You deserve people that want to help you. I want to help you. Just because were not together anymore doesn’t mean I don’t care about you Rafe” she whispers, a sincere expression gracing her features as she comforts him.

Rafe licked his lips, his heart thumping as they maintained eye contact. Just two broken people gazing into each other like there’s no tomorrow. Her doe eyes still glistened with tears, the whites in her eyes slightly bloodshot, and he swore she was still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His eyes trailed to her plump lips, almost out of instinct. He fully believed her lips were gods greatest gift.

She prayed he couldn’t hear how loud her heart was beating as he stroked her skin with his thumb. It was scary how familiar and comfortable it felt holding his hand, even after they had been apart for a year. It was like he was made just for her.

And just like that, she welcomed his kiss.

I knew you

Your heartbeat on the High Line

Once in 20 lifetimes

It took everything In her to suppress a whimper when Rafe hummed against her cherry red lips. The kiss was greedy. Passionate. Anything but gentle. There was so much pent up sexual tension between them, if she wasn’t sitting down she was sure her knees would have buckled.

His lips were drugging her into a delirium that she just couldn’t escape as he buried his hands in her hair, biting her bottom lip just a little. He knew she liked that. He was kissing away all of her pain in that moment, all the tired thoughts of their once obsolete future. Of their chaotic past. He was putting together the pieces of the broken vase which resided in her heart.

Her manicured nails clung to his shirt as she grabbed his chest, pulling her even closer to him. Rafe was her favourite drug, and my god did she feel high. Her head was dizzy with lust. Her thoughts spinning. She could of collapsed at any given moment.

It was the kind of kiss that made her realise breathing was overrated anyway.

His tongue roamed her mouth with dominance, his lips harsh as his fingers grazed her bare thigh. He was so thankful she wore a skirt tonight. Touching her skin felt like home. She had always been his home.

And as she ran a hand through his dirty blonde locks, pulling on them ever so slightly, Rafe couldn’t believe he was finally home again.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

Tags; @urfaveluvr @arielmarvelaqua @mryneedend @tigerlily678 @rxfecameronsslut @jesusfootsandles @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sickyrat @ivy-34

#obx #outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe smut #rafe x female!mc

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