Prompt 104
Danny finds himself reincarnating, giving it a try so to say. A new start of sorts, though he knows that Tucker will also be somewhere in the world and Sam will be keeping an eye whenever she’s not working on her uh, internship with Overgrowth.
He somehow, despite being in a world of heroes and villains, ends up reincarnating into some sort of assassin cult. Apparently he is keeping the Fenton luck despite a new life. Along with his white hair from his ghost form. Which is understandable with how there’s an ecto-pool in the room over.
He’s pretty sure his father is a fruitloop too, maybe. Well, technically he was a fruitloop for a human, but again. Ecto-pool that he was apparently taking dips in. At least this time he has some baby sisters- even if the toddler one keeps trying to stab him.
Honestly, feels like home.
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Be Careful What You Wish For
Tucker could make fun of him for not reading comics all he wanted, but Danny really did enjoy reading them. He just didn't have much time to after the Accident, with all of the ghost attacks.
He had the time now, he supposed. There were no ghost attacks anymore, not with Vlad "taking care of them".
He was almost scared to find out what the Fruit Loop meant by that.
Danny sighed, staring up at the bare white ceiling of his bedroom. He missed the stars he'd had stuck to the ceiling of his room back home. Because Vlad's mansion wasn't home, was it? It wasn't ever going to be, no matter what.
Again, he began to think of the heroes he'd always admired, the ones that he had always fantasized about when he was younger, as if they would fly out of the comic books and take him and Jazz away, take them to parents that would actually pay attention to them. Now, Danny would take his parents not paying attention to him over them being dead.
Danny sighed, his eyes slipping closed. He wasn't tired, but he wanted to pretend that he was somewhere warm and safe, anywhere but here.
"Man, I wish superheroes were real... I could really use one right now."
Then came a gentle whisper in his ear, one that promised the safety and warmth he was desperate for. "Your wish is my command, little Prince."
Danny jolted upright, but it was too late. One moment, he was sitting in a bed that wasn't his own, could never be, no matter how hard he tried to pretend it was, and the next, he was sitting in a field, cornstalks swaying gently in the warm breeze.
Where... was he?
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Ok! Had to take a bit of a break for personal reasons (thank you guys sm for the support and patience!) BUT, I should be back, barring any sort of crazy irl shenanigans (knock on wood). As an offering, have my freehand studies of Apollo statues, as I tried to find features I could steal and integrate into my style.
First pass, I accidentally deleted the statue I was using as reference and also ewww gross I hate this one
second pass, ok alright, we're getting somewhere, I'm feeling it.
Third pass. I am no longer feeling it. Wtf happened. Alien looking ass.
Fourth pass. We are back on the saddle. However I am veering sharply towards realism and it is scaring me. This means it's time to ditch the references and stylize, leading to...
The fifth and final pass! I tried mixing the features I picked up from the statues with the style I already had, and it kind of worked? Idk how I feel about it. I feel more confident in my color placements tho so that's cool.
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I just wanna say, after the whole Forever debacle, this is another instance of Tubbo having weirdly accurate hunches. Not talking the donowall stuff but about his perception towards the N.I.N.H.O and Forever himself.
There’s a reason why he hasn’t set up Sunny’s N.I.N.H.O room yet. Even after being gifted one by Forever. Just a small joke said in response to Forever explaining how eggs and their parents can double reinforce their rooms so that even he couldn’t access them.
“Alright. Well as long as you don’t go crazy again, I’m not fussed.”
Tubbo then not only places Sunny’s warp plate out in the open but also pulls Sunny aside to reassure her that they will create their own safety precautions outside of the N.I.N.H.O. How that he’s found ways with newer mods to make a better safety system that he will use on his own.
Like at first, I wanted him to make improvements on the already existing N.I.N.H.O to protect more eggs. But now, thank GOD he didn’t.
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prompt: gaz and ghost on overwatch, watching soap talk to their contact on the ground, and roasting him alive on comms. just stepping on his neck nonstop. soap can hear them but can't react because the contact spooks easy -391780
@391780 i LOVED this prompt. nothing makes me happier than Ghost and Gaz banter (there's so much of it in the drafts for misery and festivals). hopefully this little blurb satisfies the prompt!
--
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
Soap’s earpiece crackles as Gaz opens the comms, distracting him for a second from the twitchy man in front of him.
“Go ahead, sergeant.” Ghost rumbles.
“You ever realise that Soap stands with his hip cocked?” Soap can hear the shit eating grin in Gaz’s voice. The sleekit wee bastard.
“Hm. Looks like a teapot.”
“A teapot, sir?”
“Like the nursery rhyme.”
The comm crackles again as it cuts off Garrick’s stifled chuckle.
Soap shifts his stance, subtly redistributing his weight to rest evenly and bringing his hands up to loop his thumbs into the shoulder straps of his vest. There, now he can’t be called a fuckin’ teapot. The informant flicks his eyes over Soap warily.
The comm clicks on again.
“Think he heard us, sergeant?” Ghost asks, amusement lacing his tone.
“Can’t be sure sir, it appears Cap has taken Soap’s place temporarily.” Gaz’s voice wobbles with repressed laughter.
“Can’t see it myself, Garrick.”
“Why’s that, sir?”
“Doubt Price would dare show ‘is face if he had a mop like that on his head.” Ghost deadpans. Soap feels his eye twitch as Gaz chokes back another burst of laughter. Cheeky fuckin’ cunts.
“Looks -” Gaz cuts off the comm before flicking it back on, “looks like he lost a fight with a pair of clippers -” the comm cuts off again and Soap swears he can hear Gaz wheezing somewhere above him.
Soap moves one of his hands to scratch at the back of his helmet with his middle finger, aware of the way the informant tracks his movements. If those pair of wallopers blow this op, Soap swears to himself that he’ll dye every single one of Ghost’s balaclavas pink and sew a Saltire on the front of Gaz’s cap in place of the Union Jack.
Abruptly the tone on the comms change.
“Garrick.” Ghost snaps, the teasing lilt to the banter is gone and in its place is the hard tone Soap’s heard before when things are about to get dicey.
“I see ‘em.”
“Keep them in your sights, I don’t like the look of -” whatever Ghost doesn’t like the look of gets cut off as an explosion sends a shockwave of sound and dust over Soap, forcing him to cover his head from flying debris.
-
Much later when the three of them are getting chewed out by Price for “missing a whole fucking truckload of insurgents because you three were too busy dicking around on the bloody comms” Soap decides that his little sewing project isn’t nearly enough in the way of payback.
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