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luxaofhesperides · 5 months

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For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?

Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.

They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents.

He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.

At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.

Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.

Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.

He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside.

Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.

But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.

At least, not until now.

Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.

For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.

White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream.

Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high.

He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”

“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”

Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.

Not the kid sleeping on his couch.

“You’re a ghost, yeah?”

Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”

“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”

“She’s a ghost.”

Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”

Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.

“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”

“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”

Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face.

On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.

Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep.

The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating.

He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head.

The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.

“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe.

Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”

The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?

Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”

Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment.

It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.

It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian.

“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”

Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.

“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”

“I’m not dead!” she says again.

“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.

“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.

Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.

“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”

“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.

Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”

She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.

It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist.

“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”

Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”

“What?”

“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”

She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”

“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”

Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said.

And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body.

Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.

“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.

Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”

“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.

Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional.

The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.

“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”

“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”

“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”

“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks.

“I don’t.”

“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.

Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.

“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”

Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her).

Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.

Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath.

He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.

“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.

“Something like that.”

“You should get some sleep too.”

“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”

Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”

“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”

Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not.

“Then call me Duke.”

“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”

“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”

Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.

“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.

Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.

But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.

He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.

Enough to entrust his identity to him.

Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.

It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together.

There’s no one he’d rather do this with.

“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”

Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”

“Will you tell me more about halfas?”

“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”

“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.

So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #prompt fill #my writing #thought a lot abt what the favor could be but i could not resist the idea of surprise co-parents once i thought of it #here's a kid who clings to someone she knows is safe bc she is scared and alone!!#heres a stressed out hero trying to take care of a kid with no knowledge of how to do that!! and the kid is a ghost!!#heres a ghost king expecting to be used as a weapon and called in for a big battle suddenly finding another halfa!!!#so much going on here. so much to think abt with this!!!!!#i do love found family like this where they all kinda stumble into it and do their best to make it good #also could not resist making yet another oc. chelsea has my whole heart i love her <3 shes my daughter first #the bats dont know abt chelsea yet!! bc she can go invisble. its all been instinct every time they pop over to visit duke #soon she'll be able to control it and meet them properly #by properly i mean dukes gonna go over for sunday brunch and a little girl is gonna pop out from behind him like 'hi! im new!'#they will all love her of course. they will be shocked but happy!!#and a little less happy abt the GHOST KING duke has been hiding in his apartment that hes co-parenting with #sorry for the long tags im obsessed w this idea i want to Expand on it #maybe one day... with my other wips out of the way...

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bamsara · 4 months

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So is the reason for Tyren getting more unhinged the side effects of the devotion necklace, or was this a downward spiral he would have gone done regardless of the necklace? I remember you talking about how the necklaces have consequences, and I'm curious if this is one of them.

Yeah!

Tyren would have been an already overly-doting and even jealous character on his own without the loyalty necklace, (and had been due to his crush on the Lamb even before recieving it, and what happens when you reject followers in-game) but his spiral into a unhealthy obsession and idolization was aided by the loyalty necklace.

If it was given to perhaps a regular, less devoted follower, the effects maybe wouldn't have had such severity. But Lamb got the materials/necklace from the mystic seller and isn't fully aware of the effects it might have on their followers yet.

So, dog is unhinged a bit on his own, but amplified by the necklace. He's originally friendly, caring and sweet. But you take good traits, too much of a good thing, and they can turn bad

#I want to talk about Tyren in stream again or go on a ramble #he's a character i want readers to like but also i dont want them to LIKE LIKE him #i want to write him in a way that makes you wonder if he did not go down this path he would actaully be someone you'd want to be friends wi #what ifs and what not #also in some reality there would people rooting for tyren in his corner because in his point of view #hes known the lamb for a long time and has been their friend and confidant #and has cared about them and even had a crush on them for quite a while #then suddenly this cat appears and everything feels wrong #dont get me wrong tyren is meant to be a good friend turned bad guy #but i was also never meant to get attatched to and develop the side characters as i have been doing slkdghsld #okay ive rambled enough #tyren oc #trod au

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ghouljams · 10 months

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I'm wheezing thinking of Konig hunting leibling around the house. Like a cat sitting in the shadows doing the little wiggle before pouncing and shes just used to it so much that she keeps on with whatever she's doing ahhh. Could we maybe get some fluff after him being so scary? Maybe him trying to do some nesting and Liebling's like it's not gonna happen stawhp.

You're hardly seen König all day. You know he's in the house only because you didn't hear the door open. You frown at the kettle on the stove, ears straining to try and hear him. You shiver a little, scratching the back of your neck. You can feel him watching you, or you can feel something watching you and you assume it's König. You dread to think what else it could be. You shake your head and go to grab your tea from the pantry.

You stumble over something, catching yourself before you fall on your face. You look back to see König's long fluffy tail drag itself back into the shadows between the wall and the fridge. You do your best not to think about how he squeezed himself back there, and tamp down the desire to go and check out whether it's actually him back there. It'll just unnerve you to see his eyes glowing from the shadows.

You finish preparing your tea and go to sit on the couch. You narrow your eyes at the suspicious lack of throw blankets. Usually you have them tucked in every corner so they're easily accessible. Now they're not even folded in their little basket. You check the basket, keeping your mug held close to your chest. Empty. You let out an annoyed hum.

Stubbornness wins over curiosity and you sit on the couch, tucking your feet under you. You grab the remote to turn the TV on and catch a glimpse of König looming behind you in the screen's reflection. You turn quickly, your heart pounding at the sudden glimpse of his claws and spines, but he's not there. You look back at the TV, the reflection of the room empty save for you. You turn it on and squeeze yourself into a ball against the corner of the couch. You hate when he does this.

The volume is low, your ears straining to listen, your eyes watching the screen's reflection, your hair on end waiting for the next glimpse of your hunter. You don't even try to relax, hands gripping the warmth of your mug like a lifeline. At the first commercial break you set your mug on the coffee table, not willing to scald yourself if König jumps you. There's a quiet clicking behind you, you turn quickly to watch König's tail disappear into the bedroom. Occupied for now.

You lose yourself in a shitty cop show for a while, knowing König will grab you when he wants to. The detectives are just wrapping up their interrogation when you hear a soft purring by the arm of the couch. When you turn to look König is watching you, just peaking over the edge of the couch, his eyes wide and pupils blown to the edges of his irises. His tail whips and swishes behind him, his spines laid flat, you don't trust the nonthreatening display for a second.

"Wollen wir heute früh ins Bett gehen?" His voice is so rough in this form, more growling than human speech. You blink at him and turn off the TV, already anticipating the way his hands grab you and lift as he stands. You bite down the smile that threatens to spill, something giddy welling up in your chest whenever he lifts you.

König drops you on your bed, and you are engulfed by blankets, nearly smothered by pillows. You look around the --you think the implications of this word are dangerous-- nest he's built as König climbs on the bed after you. You hold your arms out to him, still inspecting his masterful work and he eagerly presses himself into your arms. His face nuzzling against your chest with a satisfied purr as he curls up in the nest.

"The throws have to go back to the couch," You tell König, carding your fingers through his hair. He purrs louder, his arms wrapping tighter around you. You wonder what's gotten into him.

#realized you said fluff like halfway through #and had to switch real fast off the predator/prey shit I was writing #König does this all the time and Liebling is like “please I have anxiety this doesn't help”#um...*sweating* I know what's gotten into him #also lmao I feel like liebling read a/b/o fic in high school and is trying not to laugh at König's nesting behavior #könig x reader #könig mw2 #könig call of duty #König x you #König fluff #x reader #oc: liebling

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findafight · 8 months

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Been thinking about another time travel au...

But this time, it's Robin. Just. Robin. She lands the Friday before Will goes missing, and she immediately assumes Steve went with her. Because of course he time traveled with her, why wouldn't he?

Until she gets to school and sees Steve flirting with Nancy and joking with Carol and Tommy. His eyes glance over her without recognition and she realizes she's alone. She panics every morning period until deciding to just go up and corner Steve at lunch and explain to him, try to prove to him she's actually his best friend from the future, and get help.

It ends up with her sitting on the floor of the boys bathroom crying, holding onto (a very confused and mildly freaked out) Steve's hand, and telling him that her day has sucked because how do you even deal with timetravel without your best friend? How do you deal with trying to save the world without them? She can't do this without him and she's freaking out and she wants her best friend back.

And Steve going "hey, uh. Okay. So... you're my friend in this weird future you're trying to stop? Prove it."

Which is something Robin can do. She stares at him for a long time, thinking, and Steve's huffs

"yeah okay. Super weird prank or whatever. Don't bug me again." And goes to stand up but Robin tugs his hand towards her and stops him.

"you are so impatient! I'm trying to think of something to say that won't freak you out and has actually happened! Gimme a minute!"

And Steve raises his eyebrows but he does wait.

"your aunt Ev." She says, finally. "She was your favourite grownup. Loved star trek. You cried so hard when she died and- uh. At her funeral, your dad got mad at you."

Steve blinks at her, brows furrowed."How...how did you know that? Nobody knows that."

Robin smiles. "Dingus. I'm your best friend from the future. You did."

Steve frowns. "Tell me something else."

"okay" she nods "you and Tommy tell everyone both your first kisses were with Carol but the day before you kissed each other."

"what the fuck."

"do you believe me now? Because seriously I need your help with this but I can keep going."

Swallowing Steve nods. Gives her a hand up.

"great. Okay. So, I think we need to tell Jonathan and Nancy about this. Then go to Joyce and Hopper. I'm not quite sure? You were always better at gameplans honestly."

"what about Tommy and Carol?"

She looks at him, and tilts her head (the same way he does) thinking. "Sure. Why not. They'll be suspicious why we're so buddy buddy now anyways."

#robin buckley #steve harrington #i always sort of picture time travel aus and double visiony. where they know what happens but also their class schedules memorized #stobin #Platonic stobin #just though of robin on the bathroom crying because she cant save the world without steve! but also cant freak him out #with the depths of her knowledge of steve lore #stranger things #finda writes stuff #finda's rambles #robin time travel au #great aunt Evelyn #my beloved oc you are so formative to steve ily

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lokh · 8 months

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mom avoids dead anime mom curse because he transitions. he’s always had a complicated relationship with pregnancy because of how woefully little people are told about potential complications and aftercare, and also because of how gendered it is, so after the birth of his second child he’s finally had it and decides to transition

he joins a local community group for mothers and at first it’s played for laughs how often they fall to the dead mom curse, but soon we find out more about how society has failed mothers and people who give birth, from information being withheld, procedures being carried out without consent, lack of accommodations and maternal and paternal leave, racism…

it also turns out that becoming a man doesn’t help with this, not really, because being a pregnant trans man brings its own problems. follow along as he learns more about being a parent and a mother, and maybe even… finding love???

coming to you never because I can’t write!

#if the japanese is bad. MY BAD LMAO #this was also a joke for me at first but then i was like well hang on.....#my initial romance thought was his husband leaves him after the transition and eventually a new single father ends up joining the group #cos he like. idk misread the flyer as being a new parents group but the group accepts him with open arms #and hes drawn to the only other guy there and well u know wink wonk.#then i thought well come on thats not. very nice rip what if his husband sticks with him.#but thats why u have more than one trans guy LMAO so it doesnt become bad tokenism!!!!#the older kid also has a complicated relationship with his mom transitioning tbh #art #wow original art from me... ummm.#he also wears glasses but not all the time #GRAPHIC DESIGN IS (NOT) MY PASSION!!!!!#I WANT YOU TO KNOW IF THIS WOULD EVER BE WRITTEN IT WOULD BE GROUNDBREAKING INCREDIBLE.#but it wont because one that would imply that i finish writing anything ever.#two it would require so so much reading. which you should be doing you should be researching.#but the point is there would be a lot because i would think 'oh it had to be perfect' and then would never do it. on top of already #never finishing anything..................#ocs

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puppyeared · 3 months

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sleight doodley before i go to bed <3

#i like drawing this guy lol #god. i really wanna give him a personality but im having a hard time #im not so good at writing especially characters and personalities #i just. pour a bit of myself into whatever i make because it helps me connect with my work #but that also means i have a hard time writing outside my headspace so it gets stale after a while. sigh #like.. would he be an impish little creature with a heart of gold.. suave clumsy failguy.....#im honestly not sure and im scared to commit to one thing if i change my mind. which happens a lot #myart #my art #my oc #oc #sleight #fur #furry art

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birdcatt · 6 months

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love whatever's going on in her life. go girl give us hate and misery!

(context: there are 2 eos heroes, one amnesiac and the other non-amnesiac. the pictured leafeon is the non-amnesiac hero. the 2 heroes are siblings, and also grovyle who they've assimilated into their sibling gang long ago)

#art tag #pokemon #pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #oc: leaf (pmd)#leafeon #spinda #the others are so small... im gonna leave off on tagging them #i gotta write stuff for her shes sooo full of hate #she feels like shes being left behind by everyone she knows and shes obsolete now that the whole time crisis is over #she also felt that way even before the time crisis was over! she felt inadequate esp compared to her siblings #the other hero who has the dimensional scream and grovyle who is like their protector #and then theres her. what can she do?#and then she never addresses those feelings until after the post game

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tartppola · 30 days

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Stranded in another world, with no hope of going back or any magic to defend themselves with, this is the anecdote of the Ramshackle Prefect Yuulis Crowley's first week in another world called Twisted Wonderland.

warning : mentions of blood & dissection, didn't beta this so :P a/n : happy april fools :D

It was a chilly morning on the Night Raven College campus, and Sam’s first day coming back to the mystery shop. Oh, how he missed the purple overlay of the wallpaper; the diamond skulls and taxonomy and other knick-knacks that seamlessly blend together to form something quite avant-garde. Speaking of knick-knacks, he remembered that his new stock of goods his ‘friends’ salvaged from who knows where should be arriving today, how exciting!

His feet skipped up and about, the keys he spun around his finger chiming as he hummed a happy tune from the Port of Jubilee. Sam wonders what kind of faces the new first years would make the first time they step into the shop, or when they meet his ‘friends’ for the first time.

Just as he was about to make a turn from Main Street, he stopped dead in his tracks. There was a pile of huge boxes at the doorstep, that must be his new goods, but there was something else, or rather, someone else. That someone–young enough to be a first year, but not wearing the school uniform–was waiting by the boxes. No student has ever been to the shop this early, and the school hasn’t allowed any of the local townsfolk to visit, so why?

“Excuse me!” Sam called out, making his way towards them, “I’m flattered that a line is already forming, but opening hours aren’t until lunch time!”

They stared blankly at him the moment he stood right in front of them. They held out a clipboard with a delivery receipt that listed the names of various magical supplies

“I’m here to on behalf of the Headmaster,” Sam barely understood them through their thick accent, “Please double check the receipt and make sure to tell of any errors.”

Since when did the Headmaster hire any couriers.....and one so young at that. Oh well, as long as Crowley’s not breaking any child labor laws, it should be alright, shouldn’t it? The shopkeep noticed that his back grew colder and colder as he went through the new inventory. He stole a small glance at the youth, turning back immediately when he saw how intently their gaze bore through his soul.

“Phew! It’s getting pretty darn cold out here!” The hand that held his keys trembled a bit, “How about we go inside to warm ourselves up a bit?”

He took back his thoughts. This was far from alright.

“--and where do these charms go, Mr.Sam?”

“By the aisle near the grimoires, next to the paper talismans,”

It’s been nearly half an hour of restocking, yet they haven’t left the store. Sam tried his best to breathe through the awkward atmosphere, but the tension was so thick he could harvest it, bottle it up and sell each for 500 madol. If only such a thing was possible, if only.

“Mr.Sam,”

He felt his shadow jump to the ceiling at the sound of their voice.

“What kind of store is this, exactly?”

“Well, since you’ve seen my wares firsthand, should you be able to tell right away?” He put on an air of faux confidence, hoping they wouldn’t notice.

“At first, I thought this was a magic supplies store, but none of them back at home sell dangerous herbs like oleander and wolf’s bane. How did you get a hold of this amount of them anyway?”

“Well, what can I say? There’s only so much exotic ingredients you can grow in the botanical gardens,”

“But, there are also basic necessities like toothpaste and clothes,” They pondered, “Come to think of it, one of the new deliveries was a box of snacks, wasn’t it?”

“That’s what happens when you’re the only tuck shop in one of the most prestigious schools in the world!” He winked, “It wasn’t easy getting ahold of most of the inventory, but you gotta do what you gotta do, don’t you agree?”

A small chuckle escaped their lips, “That’s not a bad mindset for a businessman.”

In the end, no matter how eccentric they initially seemed, a child is still a child. He felt foolish for being so afraid, what could they do when he had his friends by his side?

“By the way,” it was hard to notice how much time passed by, “Shouldn’t you go back to your dorm and change into your uniform? It’s almost time for morning classes.”

“Ah, was Mr.Sam not present during the entrance ceremony? No wonder you didn’t recognize me,”

There was some word on the street about a fiasco happening during this year’s entrance ceremony, something about the halls being lit on fire by a beast? He couldn’t believe it when one of the friends that stayed to guard the shop told him about it.

“I was deemed unworthy to be sorted into a dorm, because I possess no magical capabilities whatsoever. It seems that there was an error during the student selection process,”

“Is that even possible?” his suave expression morphed into worry, “Then, why didn’t the Headmaster send you back home?”

“He tried, but the Mirror of Darkness said something along the lines of ‘The place from whence they came from can’t be found in this world’.

“And so here I am, doing odd jobs and tasks on behalf of the Headmaster, the students and the staff of NRC,” Sam could hear a small sense of pride at their introduction, “I'm more capable than I look, please don’t hesitate to call upon me if you need any assistance.”

Of all the strange things to make their way into his shop, never in a million years would Sam expect an estranged secretary to be one of them, and one that possibly came from another world to boot. He had a feeling that this year was going to be much, much more eventful than any of the years to have come, and he couldn’t wait to see it all unfold.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, little demon,” The shopkeep tipped his hat in a fine, gentlemanly manner, “Make sure to drop by again, ‘till next time!”

The gap of knowledge between the first and second year was indeed a big leap to overcome, Crewel knew how unprepared his puppies were going to be.

But by the Great Seven, oh how much he overestimated them.

The likes of Riddle Rosehearts and Azul Ashengrotto couldn’t possibly make up for the utter incompetence these mutts have, even the students with subpar scores like Savanaclaw’s Ruggie Bucchi and Diasomnia’s Silver looked like geniuses. At best, there are students like Kalim al-Asim, who actually tries, yet their efforts seem to seep out through their ears the moment they leave class, then there’s the unpredictable ones like Floyd Leech.

He remembers how the eel turned in blank test papers, or how he mixes whatever ingredients he finds interesting together, bleeding the chemical supply. 2 days ago, he used up an entire month’s worth of imp spinal fluid during potions class. It’s not as if they were hard to get, but their effects are most potent when freshly harvested. The thought of harvesting it himself made him shudder; sure, he’s seen some grotesque imagery as an alchemy professor, but who knows how long it will take to restock if he made a report to Crowley?

Sigh. Looks like he’ll have to put practical sessions on hold for a while and haggle with Sam.

“Excuse me, is Professor Crewel here?”

The door to the alchemy lab opened, bringing the professor back to reality. Someone he has never seen before let themself in, a plastic bag in hand.

“Stay! I don’t recall allowing anyone without a lab coat to enter….!” Realization kicked in once he got a clearer look, “Huh--so it’s you, the magicless stray that caused a riot in the entrance ceremony.”

The sound of a whip resonated through the room, followed by faint chattering and murmurs from nearby students scrambling away from the alchemy lab.

“Only authorized students and staff are allowed in the lab during school hours, didn’t the Headmaster tell you?”

Most of his students would cower just by hearing his tone grow stern, yet they remained unfazed. Playing bold now are we? Looks like he’ll have to teach them a lesson.

“The Headmaster,” they brought the plastic bag to his chest, “said that the lab’s storage room needed restocking.”

Ah, was that it? Making a child do his job; how much of a slave driver was Crowley? Knowing Crowley’s tardiness, it was probably something he had already spent his paycheck on, although the bottom of the bag was unusually cold.

Curiosity getting the better of the professor, he untied the knot and opened the bag. His face recoiled, from the shock of seeing the contents. Aurora moth’s scales--he had only requested these a few days ago! Not to mention all of that translucent mucus coating the scales, how long ago were these harvested?

“Is there something wrong, Professor?”

Crewel almost forgot about the intruder standing in front of him, “No, it’s just--this is the first time I've seen them so...fresh. The ones Crowley buys usually come preserved in bottles.”

“That may be because I just harvested them this afternoon,” they said nonchalantly.

“You--You what?!” the professor didn’t even try to mask his disgust, “You did this yourself?”

Their head tilted sideways, akin to a confused child.

“The Headmaster said that the locals needed help with pest control, so I’d thought I’d lend a hand, and they let me do whatever I wanted with the moths as payment, ” Despite having experience with that sort, Crewel’s stomach began to swirl, “The Headmaster gave me permission too,”

A scowl grew on his face. Typically a moth would've been killed humanely before their wings were plucked to relax their ligaments, but seeing the mess clinging to the wing's ends, it's clear that they didn't consider such option. He couldn't decide if they had a strong stomach to withstand seeing large bugs squirm underneath them, or an uneducated fool.

“Professor, are you alright? You look exhausted,”

He snapped back to reality that instant, rubbing circles around his temple. Pull yourself together, Crewel, he edged himself, you’ve lost your composure twice already. Maybe he just needed a good serving of raisin butter with wine on the side, or a joyride on his prized car. He glanced back at the dismembered wings, at least he got what he wanted. Still, this has never happened before, perhaps if he could take advantage of this situation….

“Tell me, pup. Since you have...the appropriate experience to harvest wings, how good are you at dissecting imps?”

They pondered for a while. It’s the most animated he’s seen of them, “I suppose I do how to extract fluids, their lymph is a versatile ingredient in many types of salves after all. Although it has been a while since I’ve ever needed to.”

Bingo

“Then, how about spinal fluid?”

It was their turn to be surprised, “I-I’ve never done that on an imp before. Just think of the amount of imps needed to fill a single bottle.”

“Tell you what, pup. Are you interested in a side-job?”

Without giving them a chance to respond, Crewel tossed a few madol and a map of the campus in their direction, “There are some common imps causing trouble in the college lately coming from who knows where. If you can deal with them, I’ll give you the other half of the payment, and of course--.”

He shoved them a basket full of empty test tubes, slinging it over their shoulder, “Fill every single test tube here to the brim before tomorrow's Science Club activity, I won't take no for an answer.”

And with that, they were pushed out of the alchemy lab. Spending their first sleepless night in another world catching imps wasn’t on their bucket list. Sighing heavily, they picked up their feet and staggered.

‘I wanted to creep him out a little,’ they thought, ‘but I ended up being the one getting creeped out.’

For such an important place, why did Crowley’s office have to be in a place so out of reach? For all his years in Night Raven College, Crewel always dreaded sending weekly reports to the Headmaster’s office, he could feel his leg muscles ache as he knocked against the two large gates. He peeked inside the office to look for the Headmaster.

“There you are, professor! What took you so long?”

There he was, sitting cross-legged on his desk as the portraits of the Great Seven floated up and about. Trein was there as well, as cold as usual and showing no sign of fatigue, peering at him as if he could see through everything. Maybe it was because he had a 20 year head start, either way, it was irritating how he was the only disheveled one.

“I don’t know, maybe it was the countless stairs I have to climb every week to submit a report when you can simply hire a secretary to fetch them for you?”

The crow simply smiled, already figuring out a solution to Crewel’s ire, “How has the first week of teaching been for you, professors?”

“I don’t know which is greener, the topiary maze in the Heartslabyul dorm, or the new puppies I’m in charge of,” Crewel shook his head.

“For once, I agree,” the history professor nodded indefinitely, Lucius yawning in his arms, “But that could be said for every first year in the history of NRC.”

Dire nodded, “Seems like everything’s going smoothly then! I shall leave the future of our students in your capable hands!”

Both professors nodded in response, “As you wish, Headmaster.”

“Although, I’d like to inquire about something,” Crewel spoke up before raising his index finger to the large window. From above, the view of the setting sun looming over the campus could be seen, but his finger specifically pointed to Main Street, or rather;the magicless stray walking to the direction of the alchemy lab, with the basket in hand and the direbeast from before by their side.

“What are we going to do about that?”

Without needing to look, Trein simply closed his eyes, “If what the mirror spoke was true, then that child quite literally has no place to go back to. It comes to question how they even ended up here in the first place."

Crowley rubbed his chin. The ultimate decision lies with him, and honestly, there was nothing stopping him from just shirking them off his feathers and leaving them to fend for themselves, along with the cat-beast that terrorized the entrance ceremony.

"It would undoubtedly stain the reputation of our esteemed college if we just kicked them out," the Headmaster groaned, "Oh, why must I be plagued with such problems!"

"Best of luck to you then, Headmaster Crowley," The two professors turned their heels and left Crowley's office with not a care in the world, leaving him with his worries.

The Headmaster leaned against his chair and sighed against the beak of is mask. Dealing with the child was the last thing he wanted to do at this moment, with their odd mannerisms and such, however...

Being unable to return home wasn't an unfamiliar conundrum to the Headmaster.

Perhaps it's his boundless generosity speaking to him, but there was a pang of heavy emotion in his chest that told him he couldn't simply leave that child, Yuulis, alone. Was it guilt? or maybe atonement? Whatever it was, it overrode the rational side of his brain

Dire Crowley was the type of person to judge a book by it's cover, which is why he was surprised how his new errand runner, or rather, the new Ramshackle Prefect was able to hold up better than he expected. The reports he received from the staff members he had tasked them with helping have been amicable, and his workflow was much smoother now that he had divided the more menial tasks to someone else. He had thought he had envoked the wrath of the Great Seven with the mess that was thrown his way, but surely they were more pliant than they initially seemed, and now Crowley had a reliable aide at his beck and call.

That would've been the end of the story if Crowley's worries ended there.

Perhaps it's his intuition as a mage, one that's been sharpened by many years of experience, but there was something off about the Prefect. It was subtle enough for none of the other professors to pick up on it, perhaps not even the prefect the▅self were aware of it, but Crowley co▅ld fe▅▅ it.

The lingering mi▅▅ma ▅▅ p▅rmea▅▅ from ▅▅em, it ▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅ ▅ ▅▅▅ M▅▅▅l▅ ▅▅ ▅no▅▅ ▅▅▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ , ▅n▅▅d f▅rom the loo▅▅ ▅, if Crowley doesn't get it under control, it might spell disaster for the mages in his beloved college.

They'd succeeded his expectations as a prefect, so why not bestow upon them another act of kindness?

A knock resounded from the door to the Headmaster's office, before creaking open. Under the candles that lit the office dimly, the prefect looked like one of the many ghosts that toiled in the campus.

"Apologies for the delay," they nodded, curtly greeting the Headmaster, "It took a while to convince Professor Trein to let me into the library archives, but I got what you asked for."

"It can't be helped, I suppose. The lecture he gave me that time still rings in my ears," Crowley picked the bundle of files off of Yuulis' hands.

"Rightfully so," the monotone in their voice wavered, "With all due respect, I don't see why what you did was necessary, nor will it benefit you or your reputation, Headmaster."

His fingers intertwined and rested over his mouth, obscuring what's left of his face. A part of him thought that Yuulis wouldn't question his actions, but it seems they had not let their guard down completely. Not that he blamed them--in a world of villains, it's wiser to play your cards right.

"I've made it quite clear that it was a mutual agreement, yes?" he says, "One day, you'll understand, once you've proven that you're worthy of carrying my secrets."

He sauntered towards them, slow and heavy footsteps circling around the prefect, "Besides, don't you want my help? You won't have to isolate yourself anymore, drifting around from place to place, worrying about hurting other people. You'll be able to live a normal life. It'd be easier for me to help you with your more personal matters like this, wouldn't you agree, my dearest nephew?"

It was probably underhanded of him to take advantage of their ignorance, but it's too late for them. The pact has been made, Crowley isn't sure whether Yuulis could feel the invisible link that binds them together as well, but the matching blue vest he gave them, their new surname, was enough to send them the message.

"It's getting late, come now, I'll walk you back to that rickety old--err, Ramshackle dorm," says the headmaster, waiting for Yuulis to trail behind him, like they usually do.

With bated breath, they come to accept their new circumstances. They step closer to the Headmaster.

"As you wish, uncle,"

#happy april fools!!!#yeeeaaaaahhhhhhhhhh #i think i wrote this for twst's first anniversary...time rlly flies lmao #i also changed some stuff from the original.. mostly cus new game info.. & such. and getting a better grasp/having different views on--#the characters #waaaaa #dont think too much on the writing pls...gdghghghg #twst #twisted wonderland #twst oc #disney twst #twst yuu #dire crowley #divus crewel #twst sam #mozus trein #yuulis crowley

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starrysharks · 6 months

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a cat's hauntingly cute laugh rings out on this dark, candy-coated halloween night...!

#zeno's art #ocs #minty #soulstice circus #halloween #this piece was honestly SO MUCH FUN!!! there was a bit of turbulence but in the end i'm very proud of it #i've got values down well now so they weren't a big problem but halfway through i ended up changing a lot of the colors #because i wanted a more blue and pink look than purple and pink #but it worked out well #i also wanted to do a different angle which went nicely #in the end my favorite parts of the piece are his hair + stockings #as well as the cityscape (especially the streetlight which was added in spontaneously) and the pumpkitties!#this is also a redraw of a piece from around this time last year - i might post that in a seperate post as well #ok i'm writing all this on the 18th now - this should reach you on halloween night! (in US times)

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jtl-fics · 11 months

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Fluent Freshman - Part 20

FF had watched more than a few self-defense videos when he believed that Andrew Minyard was looking for a dark alley to stab him in. He had learned how to turn the attacker’s momentum against them. Had learned about disarming the person trying to stab him.

He’d even had Matt teach him a few punches claiming that it was for the dust-ups that tended to happen on the court.

He, naturally, does not use any of that knowledge because his mind immediately reverts into Lizard panic mode the moment Jackson Plank takes another step forward with a knife (HUGE. Is it wild that he is thinking about Crocodile Dundee right now?)

“If you come quietly you won’t get hurt.” Jackson says and he reverts to who he is as a person and he freezes. His bravery was used up maybe it was only ever tied to great pump up songs and now in the silence of the alley he is back to being Stone-Faced Smith.

“You’re going to dial up Wesninski and if you don’t say EXACTLY what I tell you to then I’m going to have you SING in agony.”

Y’know in that moment he stops thinking about Crocodile Dundee.

He thinks about a movie that is far more ingrained in his mind than any number of self-defense videos or one-off lessons with Matthew Boyd where he’d been trying not to flinch. A movie he had watched in better days with his family and had been a favorite of his Grandma’s (and his).

He thinks about Miss Congeniality.

Sandra Bullock as Gracie Hart has taught him everything he ever truly needs to know when he takes a step back and Jackson comes at him.

He strikes right at Jackson’s nose with the palm of his hand.

“SON OF A-“

The knife is dropped and FF kicks it under a dumpster.

FF grabs the single weapon he has on his person.

The McDonald’s Megamind Happy Meal Light Effects Brainbot.

He points the LED light straight at Jackson’s eyes and just like Aaron in the car on the way back, “Shit, that’s bright!” And now completely blinded by a combination of watery eyes and LED McDonald’s toy he proceeds to SING just as Gracie Hart had taught him.

S - Solar Plexus. He punches Jackson there as hard as he can.

I - Instep. He smashes his booted foot down on the inside of Jackson’s shoes (who the fuck wears LOAFERS to a kidnapping?)

N - Nose. He’d feel bad about hitting it again if Jackson wasn’t y’know…a hitman out to hurt Captain Neil.

G - Groin. He may have to give himself just half a second to apologize to all of mankind for what he is about to do. His step brothers had definitely kicked him in the groin plenty of times to try and get a reaction. It’s an art to not let anyone know that your ball has retreated up into lower intestine. He kicks Jackson as hard as he can (collegiate athlete) with the boots that Nicky had let him borrow. He is right on target with the toe of his shoes.

Jackson goes down.

The next thing he does is not something Gracie Hart had taught him but does still feel like the right thing to do in this situation. He kicks Jackson in the head and the man goes limp.

If FF throws both hands up in the air and lets out a “I am Miss Congeniality!” Victory cry into the alleyway well no one is around or awake to know that.

He feels like he deserves a sash and a crown and some flowers.

He looks down at Jackson and then over at the van the man had hopped out of. He was definitely PLANNING on kidnapping Captain Neil so he probably has like…some kind of restraint?

Well, better to completely subdue this guy before he tries to figure out the game plan for Romero. Wait, what’s that next to the Crocodile Dundee knife, are those...?

***

Roland is calling for a second time.

Andrew had let it go to voicemail the first time. It was usually Roland complaining about Nicky, Aaron, or Kevin doing something exceptionally stupid in their inebriated states. They have a system. Roland will call and leave a voicemail detailing the dumb shit his family has gotten up to and then he’ll let it go.

If Roland calls twice then there’s an issue.

Arm still around Neil’s shoulders he answers the phone, “What.” He asks.

“You need to help your new friend. There’s some guy following him, he’s armed and dangerous and looking for someone to grab to get Neil’s attention. He tried to lead the guy outside but he’s standing watching it for now so there might have already been someone waiting?” Roland gets out in a rush and Andrew is up and moving towards the stairs even as he’s closing the phone to disconnect the call.

Neil, of course, is right on his heels. “What is it? Did something happen?” Neil asks and they are up the stairs and pushing past Frank and his stupid pineapple shirt. Andrew spots Nicky and he spots Aaron.

“Get Nicky and Aaron somewhere safe. I need to go help Smith with something.” He says because whoever this is wants Neil and Andrew will not let Neil get within grabbing distance and won’t mention it. Neil, blessedly, does what Andrew asks without question.

Andrew scans the crowd and finds a man whose gaze goes between his phone and the back door.

A face that Andrew had memorized.

One of Nathan’s surviving men.

In the same Zip Code as Neil.

And that man has the audacity to still be breathing.

He looks and Nicky and Aaron (drunk, drugged, and useless because Andrew had wanted them to be) are with Neil and Roland is directing them to the backroom.

Andrew goes out the alley and can feel Romero’s eyes on him.

He’s prepared for a lot of things to see out in that alley. He’s angry that FF hadn’t just come down and grabbed him and Neil (he does not need TWO martyrs) and he wants to know what the fuck FF was thinking (or if he was thinking at all). Even with that anger he does not wish to see FF’s blood spilled all over an alleyway because Andrew’s family needed to be protected and FF was the only one sober enough and aware enough to do it.

He knows what Nathan’s men are capable of.

Knows that Romero was one of Nathan’s best so if there is someone out in the alleyway then it’s likely one of his other bests.

FF doesn’t even know how to use a knife. He had asked and FF had firmly declined every time Andrew had brought it up after the first fainting incident. “I’m not interested in learning that. No.” Had been the standard response.

He knew FF had at least taken a lesson or two from Boyd on throwing a punch considering the one he shot out a week ago when a Striker came at him after the third time FF intercepted a pass.

Still, Andrew had not anticipated coming out into the alleyway and finding an unharmed FF securing an unconscious Jackson Plank’s arms behind his back with fuzzy handcuffs.

“Am I interrupting something?” He asks and FF looks up at him with a flush on his cheeks.

“It’s not my fault this is a weird sex alleyway! They’re the first thing I found on my way over to the van to look for actual restraints.” FF says immediately and Andrew almost laughs at the insanity of it. “Wait, where’s Captain Neil?” FF looks around nervously.

“He’s with Aaron and Nicky in the backroom. Roland gave me your S.O.S.” Andrew says even as he quickly makes his way away from the door and towards FF. “Romero is watching the door. Let’s give him a reason to come out.” He says going over to Jackson and when he rolls the man over he raises an eyebrow at the piss stain on his pants and the blood dripping down his nose.

He looks to FF who resolutely does not look back at him.

It’s a story he’ll get out of his friend eventually. Looks like FF didn’t really need those knife lessons. Something settles a bit more in Andrew, it’s nice to have someone else in their group that could handle themselves in a fight.

Andrew finds a phone and FF rolls Jackson back onto his stomach, “He could choke on his own blood.” He shrugs and Andrew wouldn’t care if Jackson choked on his own blood in fuzzy handcuffs in a back alley but he can understand FF not wanting a murder charge.

Andrew looks at the phone and sees the the swipe pattern clear as day. It takes him two tries to get the order right but then Jackson’s phone is available for him to get over to the texting app.

The texts he reads there make him angry. There were a lot of plans on what the two of them were going to do to Neil before his body was offered up to a different crime family to show that Romero and Jackson had no loyalty left to the Wesninski line.

He types out a text to Romero that will have the jackass come out thinking everything had gone well and they had two hostages. He looks over to FF, “You ready for round two?” He asks.

“There isn’t a tap out option right?” FF asks and Andrew laughs at the joke.

Always cool under pressure it seems.

“No.”

“Then yeah, I guess just hit send.” FF says with a shrug.

Andrew does just that.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Didn’t wanna leave ya’ll hanging on that particular cliffhanger for too long ;)

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themugglemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupfriesandallthingsnice @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#Fluent Freshman AU #I would like to thank Sandra Bullock's performance for allowing me to write the stupidest fight scene ever #I would also like to thank my sister for getting engaged on April 25th so Miss Congeniality was floating around in the noggin already #Andrew: Smith is really cool under pressure. He can make jokes at a time like this.#FF: What if no one believes me that I found these handcuffs in the alley?#He's too focused on the embarrassment of using those handcuffs to focus on the fact that round 2 is about to happen #Did my 'research' involve finding out EXACTLY what McDonald's happy meal toys were being offered November 2010 #Perhaps #The internet really does just have like a whole shitload of people who will just have a database of seemingly useless knowledge #I love those people #Neil may be pacing up a storm in the back room but Keeping Nicky away from the dance floor is a full time job #For ONCE Aaron is the easy one to deal with #Roland just gave him a virgin drink and he's happy #AFTG #AFTG OC #AFTG AU #AFTG Fic #My Fics #It's shorter because I didn't wanna leave ya'll hanging #FF - Pt. 20

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moonsidesong · 21 days

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som random object ocs

#moonsideart #2024 #ocs #osc #these guys can have character tags if i ever do anything with them again but i probably wont LOLLL #didnt have room to write this bc they ended up getting not a lot of space and i didnt feel like reformatting #but picture and locket are both always 'awake' at the same time. they can see out of each others eyes #picture can only use their limbs and speak if the hinge is open though (locket when its closed)#locket's face also isn't visible when the hinge is open #if the hinge were to snap open it would kill locket but not picture. they can only be recovered together though #if you tried to recover locket when picture was still alive itd just spit out a still-dead locket or not do anything

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ghouljams · 10 months

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I must (politely) demand more animals for Bee - ☀️

You stare at the little yellow peepers under the warm light in the supply store. Their fluffy bodies and teeny little wings are the cutest things you've ever seen. You want one. You could handle a chicken, chickens are super easy(you think) people in the suburbs keep chickens.

But what if it gets lonely? You can't bring a little baby chicken home and leave it all by itself! Who ever heard of having one chicken? It's absurd. You'd have to get it a friend. But what if they get in a fight and stop talking? Ok three chickens...

You leave the store with five chicks peeping away in a cardboard box. You swing by the feed store and are so astonished by the price of feed that you actually ask about a discount. Which apparently was the right thing to do given how excited the owner looked. Plus there was a nice guy in line behind you who let you know haggling was kind of the thing to do in the feed store.

You get home with nothing you'd planned to purchase. You call König from the car. He doesn't answer, which is weird, but he's probably busy. A text works just as well, youll do that when you get home. You pull up to your house and find someone already parked there. Also weird.

There's a woman leaning against the cab of the beat up truck, chocolate brown hat tipped low over her eyes as she scrolls through her phone. She also has a cardboard box under one arm and a baking tray resting on the top of the cab.

She looks up when you step out of your car and gives you just about the friendliest smile you've ever seen.

"Wow you're really fixing this place up," the woman, Goose, she said to call her Goose, says with a low whistle. She'd pretty handily forced her way into your home, handing you a tray of brownies which you suppose are sort of a decent entry fee. They tasted good enough.

“Doing my best for it,” You say around a mouthful of brownie. You set your box of peepers on the coffee table, eyeing the box she sets on the ground. "Hey you know anything about chickens?" You ask her, nudging the box for her to peak into.

"Oh cute! You know you got five of these suckers in here right?" She asks scooping a chick out of its carrier, you nod. She shrugs and puts it back. "You got an anything with a roof on it and some chicken wire? I got some milk crates in the truck but that's about it."

"I was going to wait for my neighbor to come by and help," you tell her watching her roll her sleeves up.

"Probably not a good idea considering the cat." She nods at the box she'd brought, you stare at it.

"Who?"

"Our barn cat had kittens, thought you might need a housewarming gift." Goose crouches and tugs the cardboard open. Almost immediately you're yelled at by a very orange kitten. It's tiny meow making the chicks peep nervously. Goose scoops it up with little fanfare and deposits him in your waiting hands. You love this woman.

"I think I'm in love with you," you tell her, half joking.

"I get that a lot," she grins, "Alright you watch the cat, I'm gonna raid your shed." You nod quickly, and point her towards the back.

You stare at the kitten for a second, watching him purr up a storm and listening to him yell at you. Spot. You boop his little pink nose and settle him on your shoulder.

König has never felt panic like getting out of the shower to a missed call from you. No message left, no follow up text, He can't hear you over the bugs... best case you must've been in town and had a question. Worst case you're dead or dying and he missed his one chance to save you.

He does his best not to run to your house, doesn't want to spook the horses, but the extra truck in your driveway certainly makes him hurry. Then he hears you laugh and his heart nearly stops he's so relieved.

König follows the sound of your chatter around to the back of the house. You're perfect. Glowing in the sun, crouched in the grass as you play with a kitten, chatting with a woman he's never seen before. He opens his mouth to say something and- his mask.

Shit. He'd been in such a rush getting dressed he'd forgotten his bandana and thrown on his hood like he was used to from so many years with KorTac. You couldn't see him like this. Most importantly the woman you were with couldn't see him like this. He could see the gun she had tucked under her clothes, and he knew well enough how threatening he looked.

At least you were safe. And making a friend, that was good. You need friends. König rips the hood off his head and considers his options. He'll go back for his bandana, then come over and introduce himself. Or better yet maybe this new woman will be gone by the time he gets back.

You make a noise of surprise and he watches you pull your phone out, typing a quick message. His phone lights up as you put you phone back in your pocket.

From: 💕

Forgot to text you! Picked up some chicks but I'm handling it don't worry!!! Help me with names when you get a second

König smiles at his phone, he'll let you finish up your fun and swing by to check on your work. You're growing quite the little farm for yourself. Which is good, you'll need to know how to do these things once you're married. Although he isn't sure if you've quite grasped what all these animals are for yet...

#cowboy!könig #oc: bee #greetings from spain everyone!! my first day here has been so good #i am drinking and writing and enjoying time with my sister :)#König trying to explain to Bee that shes gonna eat her animals and she will not hear it #piggy smalls is a pet and how dare König imply otherwise #könig x reader #könig x you #x reader #könig modern warfare #könig cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #oc: goose #since i guess she makes an appearance #also Gaz in Murphy's giving Bee a heads up about haggling #king and queen of making sure bee doesnt die #theyre coming for your throne könig watch out #☀️ anon

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