#ghost also thinks bullet holes are pretty
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Art for my Incorrect Quote: It's not what it looks like
#it’s still not what it looks like#ghost is just so helpful and checks over his wounds#ghost also thinks bullet holes are pretty#ghost x soap#soap x ghost#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghoap#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#john mactavish#M18 MW#the crop feeds us and censors gore#added context
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DPXDC prompt: Friendly neighborhood forensic pathologist Danny Fenton is a new master of The Court of Owls? (Dead on main, of course) +Part 2: Talon Dick
Don’t underestimate what a ghost will do for a higher education. You see, it's the custom of the Fenton family not to run away from things they are afraid of but to face their fear. So Danny Fenton, who has learned to fear scalpels, steel clamps and surgical retractors, decides to do something about it and to dedicate his life to giving souls of those who died a violent death the final rest and justice they deserve.
Well, it didn’t really come to him at once. It started out as a simple joke:
Danny didn’t think he could continue his education after school. Frankly, his grades suck. However, Tucker for fun applied for a scholarship for gifted villains from Gotham University on his behalf.
And hell, they are willing to pay money for his education. Pay in full! Living in Park Row is also incredibly cheap. And with his flying ability, he’ll also save on transportation.
Danny is not a villain. And he’s not planning on becoming one. But he couldn’t lose that chance.
Why do you deserve this scholarship?
“My parents are renowned ecto scientists, and I’ve seen their dissection work at its best. Medical school is expensive, and this scholarship will help me accomplish my goal of becoming a forensic pathologist and helping maintain the boundary between the world of the living and the world of the dead…or use it for my own ends. Of course.”
Well, Mr Two-Face was fully confident that despite his grades in the subjects, Danny was fully committed to achieving high academic achievement. Finally, work experience of Dan came in handy somewhere.
There were only few things about the death that Danny didn’t find on his own or from his ghost friends, so he managed to graduate in record time. Young Fenton thought he was lucky enough to get a job near Crime Alley. It was odd that the job was available. Even a new specialist like him was allowed to work full-time. And the salary was very decent.
~~~~~~
Danny: Yes, Jazz, everything is just fine. I found a great job and I’m trying to relax and find a hobby, you know. Started feeding the local birds. Apparently they were abused, the poor things are so shy and aggressive.
The local birds:
~~~~~~
Let’s say that a returned Jason as undead cannot be killed for forever. The stab wounds heal quickly, the bullet holes sometimes itch unpleasantly for a few days, but in general his regeneration is at a level with some metahumans.
This is convenient. But when Red Hood wakes up in the morgue after a particularly severe injury, he’s not happy. Sometimes even looking in the mirror at his dissection scar is difficult for him. And this situation is a fucking nightmare.
Danny: Oh. Are you awake now? I’m sorry I didn’t have time to put you on the couch, I didn’t have clean sheets and my assistant would have killed me because of the new stains.
Red Hood: What the hell? I’m sorry?! It’s fucked up! I’d love to see you wake up on the dissection table.
Danny: Been there Done that. But hey, I didn’t put you there. You didn’t get here on my shift, give me a break.
Jason: …So, what's now?
Danny: Well, I can offer you tea or coffee. Of course, only after I sew up the hole in your stomach and give you a change of clothes. Or I could go after the documents and pretend I didn’t notice one of my bodies got away. But then don’t dream about novocaine blockade. Pretty liver by the way, you don’t see that much in crime lords.
Jason: Um, thank you? But you’re weird. Usually people are praised for the beauty of the face or eyes rather than…
Danny: Wow, now I feel attacked.You wake up in your helmet. I can’t compliment what I can’t see.
Jason: Gee, I’m surprised your colleague hasn’t taken it off yet.
Danny: And lose important evidence? It is not customary for us to put curiosity above professionalism.
~~~~~
Jason learns quickly that although Batman is willing to go anywhere to track him, there are always exceptions to the rule.
The morgue was one of them. Not surprisingly, the emotional constipation and uncomfortable theme of Jason’s death worked like a perfect bat repeller. Over time, Jason becomes really interested in a guy who genuinely laughs at his death jokes and listens to his problems at work without judgment. Danny is too cute and nice.
Danny*works*: No visitors allowed here.
Jason: Unless you are a zombie, right?
Danny:...Still not one of your hideouts. The book is where you left it, make some tea if you want it.
~~~~~
Jason, once again delivered without a sign of life to Danny after the fight, woke up during pupillary reflex test.
Jason: Oh, beauty, you are just dazzling today.
Danny: As I thought, your regeneration didn’t cure your concussion before your resurrection. I’ll give you referrals for all the tests and examinations. And we really should stop seeing each other like this. Please take care of yourself.
Jason: I don’t think you have the right to prescribe them to me.
Danny: Technically I do not. But we live in Gotham. And for some time the hospital where I work at night is very sensitive to my requests.
Red Hood: And why?
Danny: It’s hard to explain…
Red Hood: Doctor Handsome, I’ve been through some shit, so try to surprise me.
Danny: Okay, okay. Look, you are a crime lord for not too long, right? But criminals and cops are afraid of you and kids and your henchmen really likes you.
Jason: ..So what?
Danny: Can you please recommend how to maintain a reputation but so your people aren’t afraid of you?
Jason: Why do you need this information? Your assistant finally realized you’re friends with walking corpses?
Danny: It’s not about that! Although, like.. you aren’t wrong? It’s complicated. I may, well, accidentally, honestly, have seized power over a local secret aristocratic criminal society.
Jason: Baby, please tell me everything. I have a restaurant as a front for a business nearby. It’s a date. Let's go.
Danny: Let me finish a few stitches first, Jay.
~~~~~
Red Hood and Red Robin fight near Batman:
Hood: Replacement was on patrol without permission!
Red Robin: And Jason is dating the new owner of Court of Owls!
Batman:.. he's doing WHAT? Jason, how could you take such a risk? it is completely unprofessional and
Red Hood: At least he loves me for what’s inside me!
Red Robin: Yeah, like a beautiful liver. It’s a great relationship base.
Red Hood: I’m talking about my feelings and interests. Dumb lil stalker with a big mouth! I’ll teach you not to bother my boyfriend.
~~~~~
Henchman: Boss. We shouldn’t go into that area, the rumors are that there are Talons here.
Red Hood: All under control, they won’t touch us.
Henchman: How can you be sure? The poem says 'Beware The Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadow..'
Red Hood: Yeah yeah "speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send The Talon for your head". I’m sleeping with their boss, of course I’m sure.
Henchman: Boss, don’t kid like that.
Red Hood: I don’t pay you for gossip. Let's go.
Dick, to whom the memories began to return, haunts Jason because he did not cut for Lil Wing apple slices like he likes for lunch: Talon came to finish the job.
Henchmen: scream
~~~~~
Jason *shows Danny 'Red Flags' on youtube*: Hey, baby, want to be a little shit on our date? I know where Brucie Wayne’s having dinner tonight, so you can meet the family.
#dcxdp#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dc x dp#dead on main#dead on main ship#dpxdc prompts#dpxdc memes
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So, an Idea, or AU I had regarding the good ol DPxDC.
I’m not sure what sort of disaster Amity’s ghost problem would be classified as, but think of what would happen if the local EMS (Emergency Services like Fire Departments, Law Enforcement, Emergency Medical, etc.) pretty much started jumping over the Mayor from the get-go? What if hard proof of these hijinx, for a brief time, were able to get out of Amity?
Well the Governor would probably have someone take a look, and once nonsense is confirmed (especially of its weird nonsense that looks a little to close to supers) they send in the National Guard, at first to keep an eye on the situation.
Then comes the Ghost Investigation Ward, and things go from moderately worrying to “WTF” real quick. And things start looking less Small Town USA and more Stalins Town USSR, at the height of Stalins Purges.
Admittedly it’s not immediate, and during the time between being put on “Indefinite Alert” and actually being relived this unit (I’m thinking a Battalion Sized force so about 1,200 soldiers/guardsmen total) ends up befriending the locals, and much to the Mayor, and GIWs, frustration, Phantom, as well as Red Huntress.
This leads to a standoff, the GIW can really only do what they want because of the Governments permission for them to do so, but engaging National Guard, who had not been federalized, may cause an issue or two. So they bring up the issue with someone who they think will back them up, their new boss Lex Luthor.
Now Lex isn’t a fool, but he figures out how the Justice League isn’t being called is due to a jammer the GIW set up and figures he can take a look around incognito like, or more accurately get trusted members of The Goonion, who he had Federally given approval to, to go take a look around.
When Alex gets the full story, and not just the GIWs original story but also updated info from the Doctors Fenton, who are now VERY worried, because they were wrong about Ghosts in more ways than they originally thought they may have been.
Suffice to say, when Lex manages to get a copy of "The History of The Infinite Realms" and finds that Krypton's Afterlife is GONE, as in they did something similar to what the GIW is planning, he starts hitting the "Abort" Button with fury. Only to be told "Too late we're underway, we're going through a tunnel, what? What?" And now Lex decides Enough is Enough.
Lex does two things, first he sends the GO order for the National Guard Battalion in Amity Park, then he starts trying to get a hold of the Justice League because "Listen I know you dislike me but I am willing to drop it all if you HELP WITH THIS BS THAT I JUST INHERITED!"
Meanwhile back in Amity
Things go from 0 to 100 faster than an Flash, that being the National Guard heard "GO" and immediatly started blasting.
The Townfolks: Confused
The Ghosts: Confused
Team Phantom: Confused and Afraid
The Ghost Hunters who are now studying Ghost Culture and the like: Very Confused and sorta getting Arrested.
The GIW: Full of Bullet Holes, Screaming, and On Fire
Meanwhile, The National Guard are waiting around two hours later with Phantom for any "Federal" News to come through: So the New President decided the Anti-Ecto Acts are BS, unfortunately they haven't been overturned yet so we're all most likely going to be marked as traitors. Mind if we hide out somewhere our bosses can't find us? Also the Justice League never actually knew any of the BS we've been going through, GIW Had some Jammer set up.
Phantom, Tired of all the damage and killing the GIW has caused in Amity Park: I'll try, but I'm not sure how much good it will do if the League shows up.
TLDR: Amity Park during it's entire run has a Battalion of US National Guard camped out in the outskirts/abandoned parts of town and they figure out most of the situation regarding Phantom not being the Villain Mayor Masters and the GIW Claim him to be. Following this logic they turned around and at the first opportunity attacked the GIW and pushed them out of Amity Park.
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Sweet Hibiscus Tea.
Yan Shalnark x F Reader.
Synopsis: After a day of finally trying to face your social anxiety, you walk home alone. The roads are empty, quiet, and eerie. But you are almost home now, aren’t you? You are not going to cry anymore. Just when you think life is starting to turn around for you, it goes in the exact opposite direction.
Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, kidnapping, misogyny, not SFW implications, psychological horror elements, manipulation, panic attacks, Shalnark being an asshole, unhealthy relationships, and stalking.
Word Count: 5k.
Can be considered to be within the Hier Encore universe.
Ten Songs Like This Piece:
Look Who’s Inside Again by Bo Burnham
Things She Said by Chris Garneau
Baby Bride Rag by Roar
Butch 4 Butch by Rio Romeo
Appetite of a People-Pleaser by Ghost and Pals
Valentine, Texas by Mitski
I’m Yer Dad by GRLwood
Cry Baby by Melanie Martinez
Freaks by Surf Curse
Neighbour by Mother Mother
“You stay soft, you get beaten; only natural to harden up.” — Mitski, Stay Soft
*~*~*~*
Regardless of how much time has passed, this convenience store always remains the same.
There is always the familiar, tired face of the clerk behind the cash register, her gaze never on you or any other customer who walks in and out of the doors, a simple, muted hello being the only proof that she noticed you.
The lights dim and blink without fail, fading from white to a shade of daffodil to dark flaxen before disappearing and resurfacing yet again as alabaster. No matter how black the night sky is, the less-than-bright illumination never changes.
Neither does the rest of the scenery.
Next to the payment area are two vending machines, with one not functioning. It is dead, with the glass broken by a punch that left a large gaping hole in the dead center. Once when you accidentally touched the front wall while bending down to get your can of lemonade from the working one, it left a sticky residue that had you rubbing your palm on your sweater for what felt like an eternity. It somewhat helped, you guessed, but it also stained your clothes. The vending machine to its right was always out of most sweet drinks, often leaving you with the choice of coffee, lemonade, green tea, or water.
You don’t buy any snacks aside from strawberry Pocky and, if you are lucky, a chocolate bar.
But you do buy meals here because it is cheap. Usually fish with miso or a salad, but there have been times when you can find a premade sandwich.
The total cost comes to between 500 to 1000 Jenny. There is always a poster that claims the cashier is the employee of the month, though you are certain that she is the only one who works there.
The only thing that ever changes is the calendar behind her. The past dates are crossed out in red ink that is in the form of thick, scraggly lines. They remind you of the drawings you used to make as a child when your father was too busy screaming outside your door and your mother was too powerless to do anything but cry and yelp as he hit her. One time you drew them fighting, and when one of your maids saw it, it inevitably found its way to his desk.
Needless to say, he was not happy by any means.
*~*~*~*
The calendar behind the worker reads the 17th of April, 1998. On this day in 1985, your first and only ever friend, the head gardener’s apprentice, went missing. When you eventually gathered up the courage after waiting for hours outside, you went to your father’s room to ask where she was.
“She has been removed from the premises for distracting you instead of doing her job.” The answer you got was to the point, because when has he ever been warm to you? “I made sure that she had learned her lesson before she died. She was in pain the whole time. It was a shame to put a bullet between her pretty eyes. But at least she had a bit more use to me beforehand.”
You cried and cried until you threw up.
That is when your mother, the usual bandage over her left cheek this time, came in and sat on your bed gently, sadly.
She patted the area next to her and slowly you stood up from the floor where you kneeled as you sobbed and went over. She asked you if you wanted a hug and you said no. She responded with a simple nod, respecting your answer. But then what she said next turned your tear-stricken face into a glare.
“She’s alive.” She muttered, along with thanks to God and a hold of the cross on her neck.
“...What?”
Your mother shushed you when she heard footsteps coming to the door. When the sound eventually leaves further into the hallway, she leans into your ear while pointing to your vanity. Your gaze leads you to the dusty cat statue made of garnet.
It got shattered a little while ago when a maid cleaning your room accidentally made it fall to the floor. You felt bad for her as she was a new hire, so you never told anyone aside from your mother. You knew that if your father, the head of this household, ever found out he would punish her severely, even when he did not care for the statue at all. You got to choose, if you were lucky, which part gets whipped or cut off.
“Yes.”
Her short answer leaves you almost jumping up out of your seat. “...Huh?”
“At last week’s banquet, she caught the attention of your father’s wealthiest business partner.” She turns to the curtains covering the lone window in your room, her back now facing you. “She was tricked into boarding a car when the driver claimed you were inside waiting for her. To the partner in question, she is nothing but another pretty face to add to his collection.”
At the slight turn of the doorknob next door, you two go as still as wax people in a museum. “Why did he lie to me?”
“Why? Well, he certainly did not want you rebelling against his decision.”
“But I have never rebelled against him before.”
“I know.” Your mother lets out a sharp laugh, salty and sour. “I know you are always trying to be good, trying to stay under the radar. I know, I know because you are a lot like me. but now I am going to teach you a lesson about your father and the world at large. Remember that a man’s resentful attitude will always result in a woman’s agony, physical or otherwise, always. However, when things go right for a man, a woman is either praised like a dog or ignored until something goes wrong because it is never enough.”
You can’t breathe. “But why? Why, why, why? What did I do wrong? What could I have done right?”
She shakes her head. “Nothing. There is nothing you can do or could have done. No matter what, your faults will always be found. That is how most men are raised, to find, and how most women are raised, to hide.”
“...”
“Men’s hearts are such cruel, small things. Oftentimes they can only fit themselves in them, but there have been times where even they cannot fit.” She is still holding onto the cross charm on her gold necklace, firmer than she has ever held you. “They are cold, are or are almost dead. There is no room for people like you and me. No room at all. All they see us as is something to own, something with no feelings whatsoever, and whose only purpose is to please no matter the cost. Such pigs, all of them.” She murmurs some prayers that you cannot hear. “I want you to be better. I want what is best for you, what I never have been able to accomplish; run and live.”
She opens the drawer beside your bed, and you don’t do anything to stop her. It is not like you can hide anything, from her or anyone else in this house. Whatever is buried eventually resurfaces. She pulls out your rarely used bible, a thick layer of dust on the leather cover. It smells and makes you cough. She doesn’t though.
“At least your father does not force you to read this day and night.”
“Mmhmm.”
“It is one of the few things I appreciate him not doing, I do not want you to grow up hating the church.”
“I know.”
“He has made you hate a lot of things already.”
She turns the pages, dust flying around the cold air.
“He made me hate a lot of things too. Blankets, steaks, cameras. The color white, the color black, the color red. The sounds of belts unbuckling, the sound of laughter, the sounds of doors opening and closing and locking.”
You don’t say anything, only looking at her hands. Only in the dark can you not see her scars, her blooming wrinkles, and the bruises that are always fresh.
You don’t say anything, because you have learned from a very young age that you are her only listening ear. You are the only one who keeps her head on her shoulders. You don’t say anything, because she is right. He has made you hate plenty of things. But, but, but. But you can’t hate him, and you can’t hate your mother.
You can’t hate her, because who knows what she would do when she finds out that no one cares about her pain in this hell?
“Mother.” You mutter, putting your head on her shoulder as you scan the text on the page that she selected. She does not stop you.
“Yes, [First]?”
“Do you hate me?” You ask, trying so very hard to not let her see the tears that threaten to come out of your eyes. “Because… because… if I wasn’t conceived, you wouldn’t be here hurting, would you?”
You could swear that you heard her heart skip a beat.
“...I would not be here, yes.”
She is honest, for once. You know at least some of this situation is all your fault.
“Do you hate me?”
“...”
“Mother, please answer me.”
You hear a sniffle as she starts mumbling the words written. “‘A gracious woman gets honor, and violent men get riches.’”
You choose not to press on the subject. You don’t want her to suffer anymore.
*~*~*~*
You buy an orange-flavored Ramune soda, a pack of pork ginger instant ramen, and strawberry Pocky.
The total would come to about 600 Jenny if your quick calculations are right. You could get something extra, like a topping for your ramen or some chips. But would it be wise? You have never been someone who finishes their plate after you had ran away, so what if you just waste your money?
So, you decide not to get anything else.
You walk to the cash register.
You hear an explosion from the back of the building. Small sparks of white and orange. The lights go off before you can place your chosen items down, and you can hear the employee cursing under her breath. The breaker. What happened?
“Damn it, I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” She grumbles, putting her thumb and pointer finger on the bridge of her nose, rubbing. “No raises whatsoever. Only one here. Without me, this place wouldn’t be working, ungrateful pricks.”
Fighting the way your heart rate shoots up, you decide that talking to her would be best. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone aside from your boss, right?
Maybe your anxieties would quell, and you can eventually graduate to talking to your co-workers, that would be a dream come true for you.
You haven’t had a friend, a real friend, ever since Rose was taken from you all those years ago. You still cry whenever you think about her. You miss her. Is she dead, is she alive?
You still blame yourself. If only you hadn’t talked to her, maybe she would still be with you. What kind of adult would she have been? A kind one, a responsible one? You would still be friends at least, wouldn’t you? Or would she grow to hate you, if she didn’t already?
You keep telling yourself that she wouldn’t and didn’t, but that is not what your mind tells you.
Is she dead?
You could picture a rotting corpse six feet under. An unmarked grave. Glassy, dead, amber eyes looking upward to anyone who looks down, helpless, pleading. You always liked them, always complimenting them much to Rose’s shy chuckles. She was so pretty, that much was true. You could only imagine how beautiful she would have been as an adult.
Her looks were a personal gift from God, the heavens, and the angels.
But if she didn’t have them, would she not have been treated like she was in the estate?
“Erm, excuse me,” You mutter, taking a few steps forward. “If you want I can go check it out.”
It is what Rose would do. She always liked helping others. You just wish that people would have appreciated it more and seen past her appearance. It was a double-edged sword. It helped her become the head gardener’s apprentice but also caught the attention of both your father and his business partners. You felt bad for her, and still do.
The employee turns around, her confusion prominent despite the dark.
“Erm,” You mutter, looking down at your hands and entangling your fingers in one another. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment. “Is that okay?”
It takes a few moments to respond. Her surprise was unexpected, as you never spoke to her outside of asking her if she had change or telling her you hoped that she had a good night. Rose would be better at this kind of thing. You once had a dream that at a fast food joint, an adult her would order for you and correct the staff when they put pickles on your burger. It’s what could have been, funny moments like that. She had always been the one to take charge, you following her like a lost puppy.
You miss her so much.
So much.
The worker slowly nods. “...Okay.”
“...It’s in the back, right? The breaker.”
This is so awkward. Rose would be better. You wish she was here. Or your mother. Anyone.
“...Uh. Um… I like your eyeliner.” As soon as you say that, you curse at yourself, not wanting to sound like a creep. The woman’s confusion becomes even more prominent.
“...Thanks, and yeah, it’s in the back.”
“...Okay.” Jesus Christ. You turn away from her, the heat on your cheeks hot enough to be mistaken for a fever. This is not what Rose would have done.
“...You can leave your stuff here.” She says, and you quickly spin your heel and put your items on the counter. “It’s not like they are going to grow legs and run off, so relax.”
“...” You both chuckle, and you feel slightly better. “...Thanks. I’ll go now.”
“...” You start walking. “Wrong way.”
You stop.
It takes you a few seconds for you to move back to first base and go off in the opposite direction. As soon as you open the creaky steel door, strong rain and cold wind greet you, along with a loud clap of thunder and lightning.
Perhaps you could go back and get your umbrella from the stand by the door. But that would be even more awkward.
“Stupid. Stupid.”
“If we are lucky, the wind simply detached it or something. Not the best at this sort of thing, though.”
“I don’t think breakers detach.” You could picture her shrugging and scoffing at your murmur. “Sorry. Sorry. Just… sorry. I’m the best at this sort of thing either.”
You close the door behind you and start looking amongst the pitter-patter of the raindrops and gusts that nearly make you fall over.
Stupid. Why do you make everything so weird? Rose would have been so much more charismatic. It was one of her strongest traits after all.
Stupid.
It’s hard to see. Trying not to trip over stones and cracked cement, you grip onto the wall and walk forward. Soon, you feel something.
“Ew, ew, ew!” You cry out, quickly moving your hand away from the slimy slug. “Ew!”
“You okay?”
“Uh, nothing. Just a bug. Yeah, just a bug.”
You hear a chuckle. Stupid.
“Sorry!” You exclaim, almost bowing your head. “Sorry! Really!”
Making sure you don’t touch the slug again, you keep moving.
Eventually, you find the breaker. But it wasn’t what you were expecting by any means. The damage almost looks like it was done on purpose, the way it was open and covered in soot. Did something get to it?
The breaker that exploded was a mass of melted metal that had been blown apart from the intense amount of heat and pressure. It was now barely recognizable as a single unit–parts of it scattered across the cement path and others having been fused and becoming something else entirely. The metal had been melted and blown upwards in the sheer force of the explosion, coating parts of the wall, wet grass, and roof with small, solidified droplets of metal. The ground around the remains of the breaker is burnt and scarred with traces of the immense fire that had consumed it.
It seems the rain put it out.
“No hope for this, huh?”
“Hey,” The employee calls out. “How bad is it? If there is nothing you can do, come back inside.”
So, you do.
The way she turns at you is robotic almost. A smile is on her face that was not there before. She nods when she sees you. Something tells you to not approach.
“It exploded into molten metal.”
“Oh well.”
Under the stormy skies, her gaze turns pale. Her eyes, seemingly captivating, lack any hint of vitality, while her lips curve in a disarming and saccharine manner. A shiver runs down your spine as you meet her gaze, every fiber of your being urging you to flee. Deep within your primal instincts, an innate awareness stirs, recognizing the smile as a charade, a mask of humanity that ventures into the realm of unease: akin to an artificial being adorned with synthetic flesh or a wax figure encased in glass. Those lifeless, white eyes, coupled with a forked tongue and an unsettlingly beautiful countenance, leave you with an undeniable sense of mistrust.
“You’re not mad? Really? Um…”
Something is off. What happened? She looks more like an imposter than anything else. But if she is, where did the real cashier go?
“Don’t worry.” She says, her voice oddly chipper and no longer confused by your awkwardness. “It’s fine. I’m quitting anyway, so it’ll be my boss’ problem.”
You turn your head. “Really?”
She nods. Something is off.
“Like really?”
You blink multiple times and you don’t think she does. She just stands there. Slowly, she nods. Something tells you to run yet again.
“Um… um… okay. Okay. I’ll just pay and leave. How much does it come up to?”
She shakes her head.
“Um. I have to pay. It’s thievery if I don’t.” You get closer. “It’s the law.”
“It’s fine.”
“I can’t just not pay.” You say, taking out your wallet from your sweater pocket. “That’s stealing. It’s wrong.”
Every action she takes is measured and precise, and she seems to move like a machine rather than a person. It’s as if she’s been programmed to act and talk in a certain way, and she doesn’t seem to have the ability to break out of that. She simply stares at you, not speaking.
Run.
You undo the metallic button, hearing the shuffling of paper Jenny within your wallet. “Um. Let me pay. Please.”
She simply shakes her head again.
“It’s fine.” The employee says, the smile still plastered on her face. There is quite more than a hint of blankness and detachment in her expression. She speaks in a mechanical and emotionless manner, her words delivered as though repeated from a script of carefully chosen sentences. Her movements are quick and precise, putting your chosen items in a plastic bag. There is no life or energy in her actions, instead, she moves like a mindless machine, performing her tasks before her without showing any personality of her own. Is it better to just accept it?
What should you do? What shouldn’t you do? Is she joking? Should you leave?
What would Rose do?
One of her hands grasps onto the plastic handles and she holds it out before you. There is no authenticity or warmth. Her eyes are blank. What happened? Should you ask? Should you just take the bag without saying anything further?
“Okay,” You murmur, obeying her silent command. “I hope you don’t get into any trouble though.”
*~*~*~*
Boss (9th May 1996 17:45)
Did you find anything?
Boss (9th May 1996 17:45)
Feitan found her heels nearby along with some blood, so she couldn’t have gotten very far.
You (9th May 1996 17:45)
Nothing yet
Boss (9th May 1996 17:47)
Try checking the stores nearby.
Boss (9th May 1996 17:47)
From the blood trail, she is most likely injured from running and trying to fix herself up in some sort of shelter.
Boss (9th May 1996 17:48)
She may have also discarded the rest of her clothes, not just the heels, and is currently wearing something else.
You (9th May 1996 18:15)
I found a dress and jewelry at the bottom of a lake
You (9th May 1996 18:18)
(image sent)
Boss (9th May 1996 18:20)
That’s it.
Boss (9th May 1996 18:20)
Disappointing. I’ll send over Pakunoda to ask people nearby.
You (9th May 1996 18:20)
K
You (9th May 1996 18:21)
Don’t cry, I’m sure we’ll find her soon :)
Boss (9th May 1996 18:22)
I wasn’t crying.
Boss (9th May 1996 18:22)
I just thought she came around already.
Boss (9th May 1996 18:23)
This will set our heists back weeks.
Boss (9th May 1996 18:24)
She has planned this out for more than a year, it seems.
*~*~*~*
Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm. You can’t hear anything else. The sounds sting your ears like an aggravated hornet.
The darkness around you is solid, more so than the cracked, aged concrete path beneath your shoes. There is a tiny light in the distance; a streetlamp.
Silence.
“...”
“Have a good day!”
“...Thank you.”
Let there be light.
“Um…” You can’t see anything. The sounds… stopped. “...Time to go home.”
But the pain stays.
It feels like a drill.
It hurts.
“...” You feel deaf and blind. No, maybe something even worse. “...”
You turn around, to the dark convenience store, and you see the cashier still staring at you. “Have a good day!”
“...”
“[First]?”
…How does she know your name? Did you say it to her in the past?
When you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you.
“[First], dear.” She starts waving as you look at her. “[First]. [First]. [First]. [First]. [First]!”
There is nothing but emptiness. Is your name all she can say? What happened to her? It is like she has regressed. Like a storm cloud in summer, you do not wish for this pain. Now you feel deaf and blind and mute now.
You almost wish that you were dead. All there is is pain. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.
Interruption. The sounds returned. Is this good? Is this bad? Does it matter at all?
You walk. You don’t speak. Only walk. You can’t breathe. You can only move. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun.
Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.
A hand clamps over your mouth.
You drop the plastic bag from shock, and then you finally hear something other than those sounds; glass shattering.
“Sh…” A voice, calm, along with the smell of oranges. “It’s okay.”
“...!”
“Don’t scream.”
The touch of lips, a man’s lips, on your ear, thin and hard.
“Breathe. Just breathe for me, okay?”
But you can’t. The wind goes down your throat. It is suffocating. You can’t breathe. You smell oranges and something rotting, blood.
It stinks. It fucking stinks.
Christ. Get away. That stink. That fucking stink. Your body rejects it by continuing to not breathe.
“Sh… Breathe. Just breathe, for me, for you, for us.”
“...St… Sto-”
“Sh…” The voice is sweet, not at all sour, like candy. “Calm down. Nothing bad is going to happen. Just breathe. You’re going to pass out.” The lips and the scent of his breath are like salted leather in a butcher’s shop, stinky and rotting. “Calm down. Don’t worry.”
“...Sto… Si-”
“Breathe. Sh… It’s okay. Breathe.”
“...Ge… Sti…”
“Sh… Breathe. Breathe, [First]. Breathe. [First]. Breathe. Breathe. It’s okay. Don’t worry about all this. Breathe.”
When you finally do, you gasp, desperate. “...Huff… Huff… Huff…”
Get off of me, I can smell you.
“There we go!”
Your vision clears up a bit. “...Huff… Huff… Huff…”
“Just keep breathing.”
“...Huff…”
You can smell him. You can practically taste him, with his mouth so close to you.
“Whew! That was a close one!” The man exclaimed, wrapping his other arm around your waist.
Pain. Get off of me. I can smell you, I can hear you, I can taste you. Get off of me. Please.
The pain still stays, in your chest and your ears, and your head. Oranges. Blood.
Get off of me.
Please–
A pain in the back of your neck and you go limp.
Darkness. Then pain again. You can’t move. You can only breathe. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.
*~*~*~*
SAINTSHORE SPACE THEATRE
UNDER THE DIRECTION OF RANDOLF URASLEF, GRETEL JAMES, AND QUINCEY J. ORATICE
PAUL DONSHEL CELESTE BAKER ANNE CROAKS
AND
THE GREAT COMET THEATRE COMPANY
SWAN LAKE
ADAPTED BY MUSIC WRITTEN BY PYOTR ILLYICH TCHAIKOVSKY
INSPIRED BY THE CHOREOGRAPHY OF JULIUS REISINGER
WITH THE WONDERFUL CAST OF
(IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE)
Odette, the White Swan………………………………………………………….JEAN YVETTE
Odile, the Black Swan……………………………………………………………...JUNO LILOU
Prince Siegfried……………………………………………………………(the name is illegible.)
The rest of the list’s names cannot be read just like Prince Siegfried.
“She is simply beautiful. Just so beautiful. Simply wonderful, perfect.”
As the spotlights ignite, their scorching beams engulf you, causing you to shield your eyes with futile resistance. The sheer force of the light overwhelms your feeble defense. An ethereal audience erupts with exuberant cheers, applause, and whistles, resonating from vacant seats. Champagne flutes collide, men erupt with hearty laughter from their very core, and women unleash piercing screams akin to banshees.
The temperature rises and the noise intensifies, repeatedly, enveloping you in a symphony of overwhelming sensations.
Onlookers casually share their thoughts.
“Get off the stage, we want to see the play, not some stagehand!”
“Boo!”
“Fuck off!”
You run off crying.
“Where is that Odile girl?”
You run into a dressing room. One used by a woman wearing a black dress. She is so pretty. Her long strawberry blonde hair falls off her bare shoulders, clearly just done with a flat iron. There is a burning smell in the air. Smoke. When her gold eyes meet yours, she marches towards you and slams the door shut.
You can almost hear sobbing coming from the other side. Cries.
“So lonely…” The woman mutters. “When will it ever be enough?”
The voice sounds familiar. Her eyes. Her hair.
Nostalgia. Memories you would much rather forget. The basement. The imaginary ripping of clothes and tears and men’s laughter.
“I can’t do this much longer…”
Someone else knocks on her door. You want to scream.
“Come out, dearest.”
The devil. Tall with curved horns and a forked tongue. You want to warn her.
You want to save her. “I’m not going to harm you, I am going to make you happy.”
You are so focused on whether the woman opens the door or not that you do not notice what happens next until it is too late. A clawed hand on your mouth. A tongue licking your ear. Tasting your sweat. Your tears. Laughter. The rest of the world disappears, and the only one there aside from you is the one behind you.
Sh… Sh… Sh… Sh… Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.
Get off of me. Please.
“Breathe. It makes things more fun for me.” The voice echoed like you two are in a cave.
You gasp for air, and the smell of blood and oranges fills your nostrils.
“...Huff…”
“That’s better.”
You turn around. There is a body of a man.
But the scaled, furred, horrifying face of a demon.
“Good.” He says, smiling his sharp teeth. “Deep breaths, in and out, come on.”
You do what he says. He praises you again, you think. But you can’t hear it. Either that or you simply do not pay attention to it. What happened to the woman?
“...”
“We should go.”
The woman. The devil, this other… thing.
“...Rose…”
The demon laughs.
“Wake up.”
*~*~*~*
The first things you hear come from a happy man’s voice. “My boss’ girlfriend ran away more than a year ago you see, and he’s been heartbroken ever since. I want to prevent that kind of loss from happening to me. Real pretty one, too! He didn’t expect it, but I don’t blame her. After all, she’s been held captive for more than a year, she had to try to escape eventually.”
…The first thing you feel is lace on your neck. A collar.
It does not tickle or hurt. It itches.
A cold hand plays with it, and it almost chokes you. At your discomfort, the man laughs.
“You are so cute.”
Something metal is on the collar, and it blinks a small red light.
#author aya#yandere#yandere x reader#hxh#phantom troupe#yandere hunter x hunter#yandere hxh#shalnark#hunter x hunter#hxh phantom troupe#hxh x reader#hxh shalnark#shalnark ryusei#shalnark x reader#yandere shalnark#ultraviolet.
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Ik this is by no means a new or original take, but I'd just like to say K. really is the perfect Luka/Jackal song and that that the vibes of reading One Autumn Morning and listening to it are immaculate, amazing work as always :)
Ayyy, glad you like the story and agree that the song fits Luka’s and Jackal’s relationship 🤭 I hope you and the others who read this ask won’t mind if I yap about song lyrics a bit in this post 😆
Anyway, it is actually pretty hard to find songs from my playlists that match their relationship other than “K.” by Cigarettes After Sex and “Backseat” by southstar. (If any of you have any suggestions, feel free to let me know).
But since then, I’ve found like a couple more that kind of fits for the story of their relationship and one of them is “Spectre” by Radiohead. While the vibe of the song might not be a perfect match, the lyrics actually fit quite perfectly 🥺
Also, with “K.” and “Backseat”, to me, the lyrics sound like the relationship seen from Luka’s perspective as he realized he fell in love. While for “Spectre”, the lyrics are more from Jackal’s perspective and how his problems and paranoia kind of get in the way of acknowledging his feelings for Luka.
I’m thinking of either making Jackal a separate playlist or just combine his and Luka’s so I can put in these songs 🤔
If you’re interested, here’s the song and the lyrics below:
Spectre - Radiohead
youtube
I'm lost, I'm a ghost
Dispossessed, taken host
My hunger burns a bullet hole
A spectre of my mortal soul
These rumors and suspicion
Anger is a poison
The only truth that I could see
Is when you put your lips to me
Futures tricked by the past
Spectre, how he laughs
Fear puts a spell on us
Always second-guessing love
My hunger burns a bullet hole
A spectre of my mortal soul
The only truth that I can see
Spectre has come for me
#asks#anon ask#char: luka#char: jackal#music#if: vendetta#vendetta if#if vendetta#if game#if wip#dashingdon#choicescript#hosted games
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Do you have any headcanons about the 141 that you haven’t written about or discussed before? What’s your favorite!
most of my hcs for the 141 are family-related, but here's some of the ones i've got:
soap has two sisters, both older, and a gaggle of nieces and nephews that he absolutely adores. he spoils the hell out of them whenever he goes home and spends as much time with them as he can because he never knows if that'll be the last time he sees them
price has a brother that he doesn't really talk to except for short, slightly silted and awkward phone conversations on birthdays and major holidays
gaz has a twin brother (this is 98% because elliot knight and lewis hamilton look so much alike) and he's very close to his parents and his one living grandmother
ghost is somewhat friends with his tattoo artist, enough that they give him a slight discount, and has way more tattoos than just the sleeve
of the four, i think gaz would be the most likely to retire and settle down with someone and have a family. i hc him ending up with either a florist or a baker.
gaz and soap are most likely to seek out therapy if they were to ever leave the SAS
price's favorite color is blue, soap's is sunset orange, gaz's is like a honey/sunflower yellow, ghost's is amber brown (the color of whiskey and his mother's eyes)
ghost is not pretty, he's got tons of scars from untreated wounds, poorly treated bullet holes, broken bones that never healed properly. this man does not care about his injuries/scars outside of keeping himself alive and it shows
price is a great cook, but rarely makes himself a good meal when he's home
if (and that's a big if) ghost were to ever get into a relationship he'd be so protective it would border on suffocating
i don't think any of them would ever be in a relationship with someone who also serves and if they did it would have to be someone in a separate unit. they need that separation between work and home life
uhhhh that's the most i can think of atm
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'𝙿𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝙿𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚝𝚎' 𝚂𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚗 '𝚐𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚝' 𝚁𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚢 𝚡 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚌!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
Summery: You're a sniper for task force 141 and there has been rumours going around about you and Ghost
A/N: Im doing this for my fellow gay ghost lovers since I can barely find any male reader fics. This is also my first so enjoy!
Sitting in a watch tower can be really understimulating; especially when you can't see nor hear any action, no gun shots, no screams from people being stabbed or killed, no flashes from grenades... nothing. You duck my head down and pick up the newspaper that was left here last time, reading about all he horrors in the world and wondering about where we may be placed next. The force had speculated turkey will be where the next mission to stop some sort of gang. You hid in your little nest of sand bags and cement blocks flipping through the paper, filled with celebrity gossip.
Footstep track closer and the newspaper is thrown to the side as if it would disappear
"Pay attention private, you'd be dead if i was an enemy"
Ghost says in his usual gruff voice as he creeps into your watch tower, blood splattered on his mask and uniform, holes littered all over where the bulletproof vest deflected any sort of bullet or stabbing attempts.
"I heard you come up LT" you tried to argue back
"That's because i wanted you to hear me" He says settling down next to you in the sand bag nest. He was right you've seen firsthand how slick he could be on the battlefield, he got the name ghost for a reason, deadly silence until he was on target and could commence with his lethal attack
Either way his company was much welcome, he warmed you up as you crammed in the small nest. He rested his hand on your thigh... this is strange, Ghost has never been a touchy person but recently hes been doing small gestures like this especially when people were around
"Sir, if you keep doing this then then there'll just be more rumours" you say turning from the sniper so you can look at him, his facial expression unreadable because of his mask
"Didn't I just tell you to pay attention?!" He says annoyed "You're still on duty, now keep a look out"
You look back in your scope and carry on the conversation "Do you even know about the rumours?"
Ghost kept to himself, he loved his crew but wasn't a very gossipy guy unlike Soap and Alejandro. The only time he really gossiped is when he was shit face drunk
"About?"
"Us. You being attracted to me like flies on shit with the leg grabbing or trying to hold my hand or the post it note sketches of your mask you keep leaving on my desk... I even heard Soap speaking about our night in mexico..." I say pulling the trigger and watching the bullet fly through his skull and his body slap the floor
"Ah those rumours..." He grabs your jaw pulling it away from the gun for a moment "I made them up shithead, I started them all" You could here the smirk in his voice as he spoke. He lets go of your jaw but you carry on staring at him, dumbfounded at what he just told you... Why would he bring that up... who did he tell... how the fuck did it spread so fast??
"What?! Why?!" you semi shout, trying to keep your cover
"For the last fucking time Y/N, keep alert and be quiet!" You roll your eyes playfully and carry on looking around again "I did it so none of the other twats try hit on you because you clearly haven't seen the way they look at you. Originally, I just told johnny because I know he likes to gossip. That's why no one 100% believed it until I started being more touchy and leaving the drawings" The smirk lining his voice but how with a hint of jealousy
"Did you have to be 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 detailed with mexico though?" you say trying to hide your face so he couldn't see the blush when you thought back to that night
"Details make the juicer darling" He teases as he pulls up his mask and kisses you on your cheek "Plus it was pretty fucking impressive" You can feel his arm wrap around your waist as he chuckles in your ear "I think were done here, come on"
He helps you out of your nest and the two of you go back to base.
#mw2ghost#cod mw2#cod mwii#fanfics#simon ghost riley#modern warfare 2#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#call of duty#simon riley x you#simon riley x male reader#male reader#simon riley
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【ＪＵＳＴ ＧＩＲＬＢＯＳＳ ＧＨＯＳＴＬＹ ＴＨＩＮＧＳ ＩＶ】
part 1, part 2, part 3, nsfw version
In terms of physical appearance, Simon is said to resemble his mother more. The hair and eye color came from his paternal side.
He's also the tallest member of his immediate family.
Also has one cheek dimple, courtesy of his mom.
To piggyback off the second bullet point, this came as a surprise to his parents. They didn't expect him to shoot up like a beanstalk, especially his father.
In fact, for the longest time, his brother was bigger than he was.
He would always win when they wrestled, though.
Has two major pet peeves: broken promises and people assuming that because he's from Manchester, he must positively, ABSOLUTELY, love Manchester United.
His first pet peeve comes from the fact that his father would make empty promises as a way to keep the family (especially Simon) under his thumb. He never came through with them, always moving the goalpost to justify reneging on them.
As for the second, well... watching soccer is a pretty good way to pass the time and he doesn't mind the banter or two but he actually prefers rugby. When he was a wee lad, he actually wanted to be a rugby player when he grew up. He's also developing an appreciation for American Football as well.
Remember when Simon joked with Johnny about not being ugly under his mask? Well, it's the truth. He's not ugly. He DOES, however, look incredibly boyish when he's clean-shaven. Doesn't like full-on beards because it's too much work for him to maintain but prefers to keep a five o'clock shadow. He's tried the beard game before and it wasn't for him. Had to deal with a shit ton of ingrown hairs.
That may be why he also thinks Price's beard looks ridiculous sometimes. But he’ll forever keep that tidbit to himself.
His favorite homecooked meal is Toad in the Hole with peas, potatoes, and extra gravy.
His favorite tea is chamomile. Ghost enjoys it with two scoops of sugar and one teaspoon of milk. Will only use honey as a last resort.
Usually drinks his coffee black, too.
However, when Autumn rolls in, Simon's inner basic bitch comes out and he'll treat himself to a pumpkin spice latte every so often.
If/When he gets hot chocolate, he likes it with a lot of marshmallows and/or whipped cream.
Part of the reason he got his tattoos was that he wanted to rebel against his father who forbade any ink or piercings in the house.
And if he wasn't in the military, he'd have a couple piercings in his ears, too.
He wants to get a full sleeve next.
There's this one childhood bully he has beef with. If he ever sees the fucker again, it's on sight.
His brother wanted to name his nephew after him. Simon had to convince him not to. ("Give the kid his own identity, yeah?")
Despite his size and bulk, Simon has pretty delicate-looking wrists and ankles. His brother used to tease him about them, too.
His hair is naturally curly.
One of these days, when he has some downtime, he'd love to visit Tintagel Castle out in Cornwall.
Has a tendency to crack his phone screen more often than not.
Sometimes, when he doesn't feel like replying to you in text, he'll send an emoji. Just one. It's usually this one: 💀
And if he doesn't feel like doing that, he'll call you.
Doesn't mind FaceTime but also doesn't care for it because Simon would rather not look up into people's nostrils. ("Huh?" "Long story.")
Does. Not. Like. Mosquitos. And gnats.
When it comes to alcohol, he never has more than two drinks.
When he takes showers, the water is scalding hot. When he takes a bath, the water is ice cold.
Can't sleep with ANY light on. It has to be completely dark for him to get even a sliver of rest.
He collects knives as a hobby.
His favorite takeout food is curry. Likes it spicy as fuck, too.
Was attacked by a gull once. Don't ask.
#simon 'ghost' riley#ghost x reader#simon 'ghost' riley x reader#call of duty#modern q fare.#call of duty modern warfare#just ghostly things.#just a heads up: i'm combining og!ghost's childhood with reboot!ghost's... everything.
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Message From Your Spirit Animal!
Pick A Pile Reading
(Left to Right--- Pile1, Pile2, Pile3)
Hey, Senstea Souls!
This collective reading is regarding a special message that your animal spirit wants to convey based on your current energy. In case of personal readings feel free to drop a message in my Tumblr inbox.
Take a deep breath and read.
Pile 1
Tarot cards- 10 of wands, 6 of swords, 5 of pentacles, 2 of pentacles, Knight of wands, 8 of swords, 9 of wands
Spirit animal- Cheetah
Hello, pile 1. It breaks my heart to say this but some of you have stopped believing that there's even a purpose in your life. Definitely, you're going through a burnout. There's only so much a human can take. You feel stuck and anxious. I hear, “Bandaids don't fix bullet holes...if you live like that you live with ghosts.” Your masculine energy is overactive. You have no idea how to stop working or thinking. Overproductivity is something you're definitely struggling with. You're barely managing things. You don't want to keep juggling. I feel you're stuck in a monotonous cycle that is eating you. Seriously drop every damn thing you're carrying. You NEED a break! If there's any victory then it must be done over our mind. You work so hard I do not doubt it. But please stop now. Only you can help yourself. The light and warmth you're looking for are not in the outer world or someone else's approval. It's within you. Your spirit animal is pretty clear about it. It's asking you to find that light within you. I see that you kept doing one task after another in the hope of something turning in your favor. But you're doing something terribly wrong! You must turn toward God/source/universe or whatever you believe in. Surrender. When nothing works out we surrender. Don't worry you're not going to miss out on anything! Whoever you are working with and whatever you are working on needs to be kept aside for some time at least. I also sense that you take all the responsibility even if your body doesn't permit it. You're being unfair to yourself. Answers will come to you just stop thinking. Don't push yourself to find the right way of doing things. When God's Will comes to play whatever you do turns out to be right. JUST REST FOR A WHILE. Connect with friends and family. Give time to your relationship with God, friends, family and most importantly YOURSELF! This is not the time to set goals and run toward them like crazy. Give space. You're not your work. I sense strong Aries and Leo energy in this pile. Let your work rest. Just focus on staying calm rather than hyperactive.
Appreciation Token 🌷
Pile 2
Tarot cards- Page of swords, The devil, 6 of cups, 9 of pentacles, The emperor, 3 of pentacles, Ace of swords
Spirit animal- Fire Ant
Hello, pile 2. I see that you guys are studying or working towards a goal. You are completely engrossed in it. But at the same time, I feel there is a disturbing emotion that you are ignoring but is bothering you. You are pretending that it isn't there. You need to take charge and heal the past hurt. You have become quite stubborn regarding this hurt and do not want to listen to the truth or your inner wisdom. Your spirit animal wants to tell you that whatever you are trying to achieve will soon be here but you better heal yourself from the past hurt or it might affect your decision regarding the blessing that is coming your way. You're sensitive pile 2 so don't try to show that you're not. Someone hurt you or tricked you and now you've become completely closed off to the purpose behind that pain and have just given yourself a narrative that is not serving your highest good. Heal yourself. Let go of the negativity and negative patterns to enjoy the blessings that are coming for you in the future.
Appreciation Token 🌷
Pile 3
Tarot cards- Page of cups, Page of pentacles, The hermit, Seven of pentacles, Five of swords, The magician
Spirit animal- Camel
Hello, pile 3. You guys have a calm and goofy personality. Some of you may be very creative and would love traveling. You have big dreams and hopes. Your imagination makes it easier for you to live in this world. You are also very comfortable in your company. Your animal spirit appreciates these qualities but is here to warn you about losing touch with reality. You need to be patient with yourself too. You cannot hurt others in the pursuit of finding your happiness nor you can let others steal away your innocence. Yes, only you may be able to do what is needed to be done. But you have to understand that it must be done the right way. You don't need others to achieve your dreams. Don't focus on what's no more there focus on what you still have and make the best out of it. Because you can! You have everything to manifest anything you desire. Just don't be in a rush. Find a balance between work and play. Also, take time to prepare, don't be overconfident.
Appreciation Token 🌷
Links:
Book A Reading With The Sensteawitch
My Rate Card
My Newsletter
#free tarot reading#pick a pile reading#pick a picture#tarot readings#tarot cards#tarotblr#collective reading#message for the collective#spirit animal#message from spirit#tarot reader
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EDIT: I've edited some points because I've watched the trailer more and understand things a bit better! So reread if you want!
So loved the trailer but I don't really feel like doing an in-depth analysis like I did for the teaser, so I'll just point out some things that I thought were interesting!
1. Stede is adorable and looks great in his outfits, I love his "I didn't dump him," and "we're on a break." I also love how it seems like people around Stede are teasing him about his rocky relationship. And on that note I'm SO EXCITED to see how Stede tells the crew (or maybe just Olu?) about what happened on the beach!
2. Ed is equally adorable and I love the hint that he'll be a total bitch to Stede for a while lol
3. Izzy is missing half his left leg! Huh. I know people speculated it but it's cool to have confirmation! The missing toe must have gotten infected. I wonder if that will play a part in Izzy realizing he made a mistake in bringing Blackbeard back.
4. Stede saying he's been a failure his whole life really hurts my heart
5. There's a scene of Stede in his Chinese garb looking horrified at what the Revenge looks like. This must be after the storm damaged it. Poor guy
6. Izzy and Stede training together! Love to see it. I'm excited to maybe have a reason to like Izzy more and see Stede become better at... well a lot of things lol
7. STEDE EARRING STEDE EARRING I wonder who pierces his ear, I hope they show it haha
8. Ed standing on the rocks with what people have speculated to be Hornigold, or his ghost, I wonder what the context of that scene is
9. There's the bunny from the poster! (Note Ed says "new best friend," hinting Stede isn't his bestie anymore aw). I wonder if this is from Ed's island days or maybe when he's trying to figure himself out again (aka the trying something new scene?)
10. What kind of wound does stede have on his shoulder when he's tied to the mast? Doesn't seem to be a stab wound, it's more of a hole. Bullet perhaps? Hot cigar burnt into his skin?
11. Seems like the "torture" scene may be comical after all? It looks like Jim is smiling?
12. In the scene where they're on the "torture" boat, seems like before the "torture" happens, Stede is smiling! Good to see him happy for a moment, since pretty much every other scene he hasn't smiled lol
13. Who is this weird-nosed character? Is he the villain of the season? Seems like he's leading the Navy officers, so probably.
14. WEE JOHN LOOKS SO GOOD IN DRAG OMG WHAT A QUEEN
15. Jim and Olu are together again awwww
16. Why is Stede running along the shore? Is he running to someone? Ed perhaps?
17. Yeah that headbutt from Ed was definitely on purpose 😂 But we love to see bedside vigil worried Stede! Is this where they officially reunite?
18. LOOK AT SWEDE THERE HE ISSS BABYGIRLL (so is he one of Jackie's husband's now?? I'm excited to see the story of how he ended up working at Jackie's lol) Also his little "are you poor now?" is so funny
19. I love how Ed sputters after taking a puff of the joint or cigar or whatever it is, shows that he's not used to it lol
20. The Ed crying scene probably happens around the same time that the painted cake topper scene does, since we see the bride topper in the right corner. Also I really want Stede to find the cake toppers (or at least Ed's if Ed throws the groom overboard)
21. When Ed says "no more booze, no more drugs, and no more" the "Stede" at the end is clearly not from that same line. So I wonder what he actually says at the end?
22. What are Stede and crew escaping from during the crossbow scene? I've watched the trailer again and I think they're firing the crossbow for the zip line rope! And they're escaping from a ship to the Revenge. I hope Stede gets to shoot the crossbow!
23. The "you two know each other?" scene must come around the same time that Stede reunites with Ed after Ed is hurt, since Ed has the same split lip. Or maybe the headbutt scene comes after that? I'm not sure. I would bet that the headbutt scene is first.
24. Why are Jim and Olu and that other person warding off vampires lol
25. We finally see a glimpse of Lucius!! In the scene where he and Frenchie are under a log. He has a beard now! We definitely know it's him becouse of the wooden finger. Yay the boy is back! Can't wait to see how he survived and the Lucius x Black Pete reunion!!
Anyways that's all, I'm even more excited for the new season now and I hope we get a clip or two or more photos! But we only have 3 weeks left guys hang in there!!!
#ofmd#our flag means death#edward teach#ofmd s2#ofmd season 2#our flag means death season 2#stede bonnet#stede x ed#analysis
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“fitting a square peg into a square peg” or “and they both were tops”
Chapter 1: It was a challenging day
summary:
“I can’t wait to feel your pretty arse around me,” Ghost all but growled. Fuck that was hot.
Fuck that was a problem.
Soap pulled away. “Sorry?”
And then Ghost pulled away, too. “What?”
“I was under the impression that uh,” Ghost fixed him with a baltic fucking stare. “That I would be feeling your pretty arse around me.”
“Fucking hell.”
——————————
work rating: E
chapter rating: G
characters: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” Mactavish, Kyle “Gaz” Garrick cameo, John Price cameo
tags: Sexual Tension, terrible flirting, Masturbation, First Time Bottoming, Fantasizing, first time fingering ones butt
ao3 link
It was a challenging day.
Many, many challenges.
Of course, there were the normal ones—dodging some bullets, sending some out, knocking down doors, blowing shit up, et cetera, et cetera.
And then there were the fun ones, starting with crafting a quippy response to a comment courtesy of Ghost: “Move out, Johnny. Are you fucking dense, the building’s about to blow.”
Soap thought he did pretty well, all things considered. How’s this for a counter: “Given how you look in that pretty little tacvest, the building ain’t the only thing that’s gonna blow”?
Dirty, but just jocular enough to pass as an innocent—no—silly, heterosexual joke. Ghost had him though. All it took was a breathy laugh and gentle admonishment, and then Soap was saddled with the challenge of concealing his hard on all the while exchanging blows with some poor bastard on the wrong side of things.
This challenge, however, was really fucking trying. Why?
Every step he took brought him closer to his Lieutenant’s office, towards the filthy promise whispered in a half-rubble room. He had to get there, yes, and he had to look fucking normal. Easier said than done, of course, because he was most certainly not feeling normal. Adrenaline surged through his veins, detouring to skip-dance in his stomach—all in a good sort of way—as he replayed the scene for the nth time in the past few hours.
It smelled like dust, smoke, chaos, and sweat, and Ghost was indeed looking awfully dashing in that tacvest. He was also looking awfully pissed. Or something.
“You think it’s a good idea to say shit like that to me over comms,” he asked, stalking forward, all drawn up and intimidating. Christ, he was a fucking dream on legs.
Soap kept it together, looking unaffected despite his intestines dropping out of his ass that very moment. “What shit?” he asked, knowing very well the shit in question, adding a shrug for that extra touch of nonchalance.
Ghost crossed his arms, and if they were visible, Soap would see one of his brows raise.
“Ohh, that shit, right,” Soap said, nodding with a laugh, “Just a bit of teasing, Lt.” He hazarded a step forward and moved to pat Ghost on the shoulder, but the other man caught him by the wrist before he could make contact. Ghost had an awfully strong grip.
Shit.
“I’m not terribly fond of being teased,” Ghost said, before adding a pointed “Sargeant.” His gaze was burning a hole through Soap’s eyes, probably lasering a hole into the wall behind them, too. Soap was just about to offer some stupid apology when Ghost continued, “You only say that kind of shit to me. Why?” His tone suggested he had an inkling of the answer. Soap stammered, distracted by the sight before him–terrifying as it was exciting–and the hand that tightened around his wrist. “Why am I the one to get the come-ons, hm? Dancing around something, are we?”
Soap swallowed hard. He could go about this in one of two ways: pussy out, come up with a lame excuse and go back to their weird rapport. Or he could fucking commit. Fuck it.
“Dancing, sir.”
Ghost released his wrist and stepped back, Soap almost shitting himself as a result. He’d fucked it, he’d gone too far as per fucking usual. But then Ghost hummed which was notably different from fleeing or decking him, so that was as good a sign as any. Ghost crossed his arms again. “I’m not terribly fond of dancing, either. How about you sack up and say what you have to say to me?”
“It’s more of a doing thing, really,” Soap admitted around the heart in his throat. He was still standing, still breathing, still unstabbed by one of Ghost’s many knives. He’d been shut down enough to know Ghost took little issue with exiting a situation he disliked, and he was still there, waiting expectantly and standing a little too damn close.
“Well?”
With a crumb of self-preservation still intact, Soap stepped forward carefully. Ghost didn’t reclaim the lost ground. That was sufficient invitation, so Soap tossed the pesky self-preservation into a pile of featureless rubble and drove forward, hands reaching for somewhere deliciously grabbable, maybe a shoulder–
And then there was a hand around his neck.
“Grabby,” Soap noted, amused. Ghost just hummed in response. He tried to press forward, but Ghost held firm. Weird. “I thought you wanted me to sack up, sir.”
“Wanted to see what you were willing to do,” Ghost explained, voice low and obnoxiously sexy. Bastard. His hand, the rough of his glove, dug into the soft flesh of Soap’s neck and squeezed. The way his eyes burned, how his body bowed ever so slightly to close the distance between them said that this wasn’t just some test, some game. Ghost wanted more.
Luckily, the feeling was mutual.
“You don’t even know the half of it,” Soap said in a desperate, urgent whisper. The hand around his neck pulled him closer. The man attached to it groaned, and Soap could feel it echo through his chest.
“Show me later. My office.”
So yeah, back to walking to Ghost’s office, maintaining an outward semblance of sanity. That part. If appearances suddenly stopped meaning shit, he’d be running. Or skipping. Simultaneously too soon and not soon enough, his knuckles were rapping against the door separating him from Ghost.
After a few devastating moments highlighted by muffled shuffles, the door pulled open. The sight of Ghost, the knowledge of what the hell they were there for, all of it had Soap thrumming with energy. He directed it into a cocksure smirk. “I heard you were expecting me, Lt”
Ghost scoffed but stepped back to grant entrance nonetheless. “That was corny, Johnny, even for you.”
“All a part of the appeal,” Soap shot back with a shrug. He scoped out the room, just briefly, before sauntering in with the relaxed charm of a man who was resolutely not bricking it.
“Unfortunately so.”
A little light banter, none of it belied the fucking tension. Several months worth of back-and-forth, the most devastating foreplay, and there they were.
It was a mystery who moved first, but in the end, it didn’t matter. It could’ve been the holy fucking spirit that shoved Johnny forward or Ghost up , but in a heaving rush, Ghost’s mask found itself half-way up his face, and the room shrunk down, borderless, defined only by hands, and tongues, and teeth, and lips, lips, lips.
Soap wasn’t a praying man, but he felt moved to start, to thank the higher power(s) for bringing him there.
“I can’t wait to feel your pretty arse around me,” Ghost all but growled. Fuck that was hot.
Fuck that was a problem.
Soap pulled away. “Sorry?”
And then Ghost pulled away, too. “What?”
“I was under the impression that uh,” Ghost fixed him with a baltic fucking state. “That I would be feeling your pretty arse around me .”
“Fucking hell.”
All that heat fucking gone, awash under a metaphorical bucket of water.
Ghost all but tossed him backwards, turning away momentarily to pinch the bridge of his masked nose and groan. “So you’re a top, too?”
“Why are you saying that like I did it to piss you off?” Soap asked incredulously.
“Do I look like I bottom?”
“Do I ?” Soap shot back. Ghost groaned again, pacing now. “The fuck does a bottom even look like, Ghost? Hm?”
Well, this wasn’t going according to plan at all. Someone should’ve had a mouth full of dick by now—no preference as to whom—but instead, they were wedged into this uncomfortable impasse.
“I think,” Ghost began, suddenly sounding exhausted, “we need to reconsider things.”
Soap frowned. “So, uh. No head?”
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Soap. Fucking hell.”
CHAPTER 2
#ghost x soap#soap call of duty#john soap mactavish#soap x ghost#ghostsoap#soap ghost#ghost#ghost call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon riley#idk which tumblr tags are popping im sorry#soapghost fanfic#ghostsoap fanfic#my writing#mine#fitting a square peg into a square peg
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candela obscura chapter 3 episode 1: oh god everybody's fucked up
I'm here, I fell asleep and missed the start but I'm here
lmao the immediate note-taking
ur really committing to that voice huh liam
marisha made an older character and liam said hold my dentures
STEAMPUNK JAZZY
heyyyy someone else makes the joke I picked up from a stargate episode 20 years ago
liam what was that look
absolutely love ashly's wig
sam looking like he got hit with a cattle prod
what's a sam reigel
why are we getting oscar's CV
"are they hot"
listen I saw the trailer he 100% uses that chain to beat people with
"no one calls you carey, oscar"
oh no he's hot
oh he's kotallo, that's why
the flat cap does look good on sam, I can't lie
y'all that's gay
I like cordelia's little halo
eloise best character
(maybe that's the look liam was giving ashly, eloise vs elsie)
elsie's a werewolf calling it
yesss the old people guilt trip
liam
oscar: I'm gonna punch a ghost
"you're wearing a ball gown. it's the morning."
the maw??
haha it took me until literally this moment to remember ashly is aloy, my ship is reunited
"I'm using my bullshit detector" did you get that cleared with the gm
I like the term "blood and guts doctor"
I've been watching S1G play Slay the Princess and the more they describe her the more she sounds like a Princess variant
oh no lights
liam you did that on purpose
oh Aadtika (?) is a very pretty name
"lung, heart" liver, nerves
"you have an extra house?" "you don't?"
rajan
"you slick son of a bitch"
he IS a slick son of a bitch
oh sam's being THAT character
prepared to spend three episodes threatening to punch oscar in the head and throw him in the pool
("nochi nobody read your free! livetweets" well maybe they should have)
sam doesn't watch the product
liam always wants to roleplay fish and chips
[picks elsie and raj up and shakes them until backstory falls out]
"I'll be as subtle as I can be" smash cut to him beating someone to death with a chain
the docks seems like a terrible place to play baseball
sam
did they do a dndbeyond for candela?
they did!
sam forgot he was short
"high stakes not for harm" but bc it's funny
rajan: oh I am NOT involved, you made that VERY clear
"don't waste that on me" "I agree"
I'm being gaslit bc I've always pronounced "copse" like "cope" with an "s" in it
shades of the old man at my previous psych office yelling about obama's secret weather machine
"I help by SCREAMING"
grandpa's making a wheel for it
[mabel pines voice] grappling hook!
the way sam rolls dice STILL kills me
oh good, everyone else also thinks they should fuck
"why can't we just be friends? oh right, because I don't like you."
what the fuck's a flashlight
"yeah! temperature play! :D" aabria
"do you go down my little hole" "of course!" aren't y'all divorced
oh no an ot3
don't say degloved that means something else
oh I dig that
werewolf!
lights!
were….thing!
oh no aabria's doing the voice
everything goes black, and you die
l…lights?
breathing?
how could crcw not have prepared me for this
immortal asshole oscar grimm
EXCUSE
oh he's an asshole because he gave up the non-asshole bits to bargain with death
hey sam what the fuck
oh hey ashly. ow.
thump thumps? why?
loud??
imagine if oscar coming back just freaked elsie right back into beast mode
there's another hour left of this wtf happens
yessssss "I'd take a bullet for him but I wouldn't go drinking with him" my beloved
local woman realizing that everyone around her is an absolute freak
liam's startled old man noise
"ohhh I'm not good at that"
ACTION GLASSES
wait I don't understand what he just did
oh he did a drug
little bird ;-;
his WHAT
chairsword!
it glows blue when there are nuns nearby
where's that one digital devil saga monster
I desperately need an artist's rendition of this orca-mantis-thing
excuse me
I keep missing the spelling of his sister's name
"oh god everybody's fucked up"
A WHAT built in his WHAT
augh eye stuff no quiero
is noshir lefthanded?
I kind of half-called that
"that felt like twenty. that was a season."
BEEKEEPER
"do you know you're covered in bees?"
I like my women like I like my coffee
"because yours is super chill"
liam you can uncommit to the voice
(he will not)
"drop the skincare routine"
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The Circle of Needle & Thread as Radiohead songs
Inspiration has struck! I am obsessed with Candela Chapter 2 and also really like Radiohead so I kinda just had to. Dunno if this is for anyone but it fits so well!
1. The whole circle:
Pyramid Song
I jumped in the river and what did I see?
Black-eyed angels swam with me
This one fits on vibes alone but also bc of the river in the last ep and the black-eyed angels could be the creatures if you squint.
The Gloaming
Murderers, you're murderers
We are not the same as you
When the walls bend with your breathing
They will suck you down to the other side
To the shadows blue and red.
We are not the same as you? I mean c'mon! The walls bending at the Fourth Pharos, They will suck you down to the other side, blue and red light! It just fits!
Spectre
I'm lost, I'm a ghost
Dispossessed, taken host
My hunger burns a bullet hole
A spectre of my mortal soul
Because of the 'host-thing' and the romance themes, this feels like it leans more towards Marion. But it kinda is too dark for his hopeful personality. We also got lines like "anger is a poison" which feels very fitting for Sean. Sidenote: I still get so angry thinking about how they rejected this song for the Bond-movie wtf?
4 Minute Warning
This is just a nightmare
Soon I'm gonna wake up
Someone's gonna bring me 'round
Running from the bombers
It's PTSD innit?
2. Jean "Jinnah" Basar:
Everything In Its Right Place
Everything in its right place
Yesterday, I woke up sucking a lemon
This one is a given! Not much to say except that it speaks to Jean's exact and analytic nature.
House of Cards
I don't want to be your friend
I just want to be your lover
No matter how it ends
No matter how it starts
Jean's balancing of Candela and EONS being like a house of cards. Her initial denial of her own guilt and relationship to magick. Her feelings towards Marion.
3. Marion Collodi:
Daydreaming
Dreamers, they never learn
Beyond the point of no return
Also a given! This was honestly what inspired me to make this post in the first place. Both the vibe and the lyrics fit very well!
Desert Island Disk
Born of a light, born of a light
The wind rushing 'round my open heart
An open ravine with my spirit wide
Totally alive and my spirit light
Marion and his soul, especially the speech in ep 3 where he says he feels whole without one.
4. Sean Finnerty:
2+2=5
It's the devil's way now
There is no way out
You can scream and you can shout
It is too late now
Because you have not been paying attention
Gaahh I am unable to be normal about Sean Finnerty! Can I appropriate a song written about George W. Bush to be about Dr. Oliver Nero? You betcha! To me this song speaks to the lies told by authority figures and how they have destroyed Seans life.
Ful Stop
You really messed up everything
If you could take it all back again
Strike up the tinderbox
Why should I be good if your're not?
Why should I be good if you're not! Very much giving Sean in ep 3!
5. Beatrix "Auntie Bea" Monroe
No Surprises
Such a pretty house and such a pretty garden
Bring down the government, they don't speak for us! The rest is self-explanatory.
Give Up the Ghost
Gather up the lost and their souls into your arms
Gather up the pitiful into your arms
Auntie Bea and all those she takes under her wing.
6. Nathaniel Trapp
Go to Sleep
Someone's son or someone's daughter
Over my dead body
This is how I end up sucked in
Over my dead body
A song about the dehumanizing effects of war. Trapp's guilt over Marion and the Finnerty boys getting sucked into the military.
Glass Eyes
Hey, it's me, I just got off the train
A frightening place, the faces are concrete grey
In the oh-so-smug glassy eyed light of day
Get it? Because of his eye? And also anxiety... and trains!
Bonus: The Creatures:
We Suck Young Blood
Are you fracturing?
Are you torn at the seams?
Would you do anything?
The Candela vibes are strong with this one!
Tinker Tailor Soldier Sailor Rich Man Poor Man Beggar Man Thief
The ones you light your fires to keep away
Is crawling out upon its belly
And all you have to do is say yes
Both these songs remind me of the son trying to convince Sean to let him in.
Update! How could I forget:
Suspirium (By Thom Yorke)
When I arrive will you come and find me?
Or in a crowd be one of them?
Mother wants us back beside her
No tomorrows, at peace
An anthem for the son!
#candela obscura#candela obscura: chapter 2#circle of needle and thread#radiohead#jean basar#marion collodi#sean finnerty#auntie bea#beatrix monroe#nathaniel trapp#critical role#been a long time since i actually posted fandom stuff
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Okay, here’s the snippet as requested. I’ve only written one other fanfic before so this is just my second one. Hopefully I didn’t build this fic up just to end up disappointing y’all. Also my punctuation leaves a lot to be desired, sorry.
Snippet part one:
It was like he had walked into some kind of a stereotypical medieval dungeon MacGyver saw a man chained to the cold stone wall by one arm. His breath caught in his throat. Even though this man was severely beaten and covered in blood, he resembled his deceased overwatch. He stood frozen in place staring at the familiar apparition that lay unconscious on the floor. Maybe his grief stricken mind was trying to bring him comfort with this hallucination. Mac slowly kneeled down beside the bloody ghost. This man’s hair and beard was longer than he had ever seen his Jack wear, but he shared the same salt and pepper coloring as the man who had been his protector for nearly a decade. Blood covered the whole right side of his face, from above his hair line to disappear under the neck of his dingy t-shirt and his face was one big bruise. His lip was badly busted and his nose appeared to be broken, but the resemblance to his fallen best friend was undeniable. He reached out and slowly touched the man’s unshackled arm. He was warm. Mac didn’t believe in ghosts but he was pretty sure if they existed that they wouldn’t be warm. Could this really be Jack? He didn’t dare to hope. Jack had acquired many scars over the years serving his country and protecting him. Jack had a particular one located on the right side of his chest that had very nearly taken Jack from him, years earlier. Jack saved Macs life, that day, by stepping in front of the bullet meant for Mac. Jack had seen the red dot appear on Mac’s chest and without hesitation he used himself as a shield for Mac. Mac had frantically pushed down on the bullet hole trying to keep the vital fluid in his friend. Jack had started choking and coughed up blood, nearly drowning in his arms, while they had waited for medevac. Mac had to check and see if that scar was present on the unconscious man in front of him. If it was there, then he wasn’t just a look-a-like for his best friend. There would be no denying that this was Jack. He grasped a hold of the hem at the bottom of the blood stained t-shirt. His hand shook uncontrollably as he slowly lifted the shirt. Mac winced in sympathy at the angry looking stab wound on his side and the bruises of varying ages that covered the man’s abdomen. His hip bones were protruding slightly just above the waistline of his pants. This man seemed more lean than his partner had the last time he had seen him. The man groaned softly when Mac pulled apart a section of shirt that had been stuck to a gash halfway up his ribs. Mac finally exposed the same area of the man’s chest that Jack had the scar. Mac had started to feel light headed and realized he had been unconsciously holding his breath. There was blood covering the man’s chest. Some was dry and other areas still slowly weeped fresh blood. He gently ran his fingers over the area, unable to see through all the blood. He felt the tell-tale bumps of scar tissue where a small line of stitches had been. He sobbed loose a breath and quickly sucked in another. “Jack…” Mac’s fragile voice broke on the whispered plea of his partner's name. Tears immediately filled his eyes. “Oh my God, Jack!” his voice was barely audible. His com crackled to life, startling him. He had completely forgotten about the device in his ear. “What?” Came Riley’s confused voice. “Mac, what did you say?” Static screamed in his ear then abruptly cut off. Mac slid an arm under Jack’s shoulders and pulled him close to him. His friend's head lolled to the side, away from him. Mac cupped Jack's cheek. He gently guided his face back towards him. “Jack, can you hear me, brother?” Mac choked on the words. He didn’t think he’d ever say those words again. Jack let out a weak groan and furrowed his brow up in pain. “Hey buddy, open your eyes for me.” Mac used his thumb to gently stroke the side of Jack's face near his temple. “Jack, please.” The plea reached through the layers of unconsciousness and pulled Jack free from its dark hold. Dazed brown eyes fluttered open.
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Who wants a giant list of various sentences and phrases I’ve collected or otherwise thought of? That could also be used as prompts.
You’re getting it regardless.
“…but I take your meaning.”
“Dashed/shattered against the rocks.”
“His gaze softened.”
“<Name> didn’t know what to say.”
“You will leave by sunset, or you will not see the morning.”
“Leave before the setting sun, or you will not see it rise again.”
“Are you calling me a coward?” “No, I am calling you defeated, <name>.”
“And they will do so again, and again, and again. And there shall be no end, for they will never run out of that which they deem evil.”
“Your god’s love is not unconditional. He does not love us, and he does not. Love. You.”
“You could sooner divert a river from its path than deny us ours.”
“His blade sang, each strike(/flash of steel) a resonant note (in the song of combat).”
“I’m not much for ____.”
“A look of faint ____ (apprehension, shock, surprise, etc.) (flitted across his face).”
“Swallowed up by…”
“You’re hip-deep in it now, and the only way out is forward.”
“Draw up plans to…”
“With a bit of luck…”
“A sensible choice.”
“, to be sure.”
“Mirth in his voice.”
“…as the crow flies.”
“…as the wolf runs.”
“Present company excluded, of course.”
“If you don’t have your own story, you become part of someone else’s.”
“My gift, given freely.”
“Anything worth doing is hard.”
“Nervous/angry people make mistakes.”
“Buzz(ing) of fluorescent lights.”
“I’ve devised a plan.”
“As he made his way to…”
“, what with…”
“We’re cut from the same cloth. You[third person]… were stitched together from a white flag.”
“Daylight’s a’wasting.”
“That’s a good reason, except it’s not.”
“You taught me to bury the dead!” (condemnation)
“We can avoid talking about this another time.”
“It was fun… until it wasn’t.”
“…been erased, yet the shadow remains.”
“He lingered by the door. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then closed it, continuing to drum his fingers against the door’s wooden frame.”
“Instead, I let myself believe that you actually cared.”
“…under the deluge (of water/rain/etc.).”
“It buckled under his/the (ferocious) onslaught.”
“His breath caught.”
“He put a hand to his head, blinking the spots out of his eyes.”
“When have I ever __?” He remarked. “Don’t answer that.”
“…wrinkled his nose.”
“…got too grisly.”
“…in and of itself.”
“It was child’s play.”
“…(I’ll be back) before you know it.”
“She and my mom ran in some of the same circles.”
“…spent the night poring over ____.”
“I would know.”
“…but beggars couldn’t be choosers.”
“…barely fazed her.”
“…hissed in pain.”
“…went back to lazily kicking his feet in the air.”
“…with ___ in tow.”
“…slathered it with honey.”
“…riddled with bullet holes.”
“…nearly wrenched out of its socket.”
“His stomach was tying itself in knots.”
“His stomach churned.”
“His muscles/arm(s)/leg(s) screamed in protest.”
“He said, biting out each word like it had personally offended him.”
“His head pounded with every belabored step.”
“He chose not to/refused to/didn’t dignify that with a response.”
“I’ve kinda fell out of it, honestly.”
“He balked at the price.”
“It sort of fell by the wayside.”
“He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.”
“Strangers lived where his childhood ghost once walked.”
“…lifted/raised his chin defiantly.”
“The one saving grace is that…”
“That’s not how ____ work.” “Could be.” “…”
“A bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” -“I think so?”
“…But I’m feeling generous today.”
“…to stop himself from saying something he’d regret.”
“…laughing too hard to dodge properly.”
“…he blurted out.”
“As the afternoon drew on towards evening…”
“…’cause you haven’t unclenched since age ___.”
“…drawing a glowing path atop the waves.”
“Today had been nice.”
“It was pretty great.”
“…is still a languid puddle of a man.”
“…sprawled out on his back.”
“…flipped him off with a cheery smile.”
“One good thing about the ocean is that it is made of water, which is wet.”
“She flowed to her feet.”
“He blinked at her.”
“This is such an insult. I’m insulted.”
“…for a minute, he forgot…”
“…but…that didn’t seem so bad.”
“…balanced precariously on his chair.”
“He moved like water, effortless and bold.”
“Wait a damn minute.”
“Your brain works in weird ways.”
“In his defense…”
“His cheeks darkened.”
“Whoop-de-freaking/fucking/dang/damn-doo.”
“…way too cute for its own good.”
“Well, now,…”
“‘I’ve got this.’” -New Chapter / Line Break- “He definitely did not have this.”
“…wrought-iron fence.”
“…as fragile as spun glass.”
“Score one for _____!”
“They’re playing fast and loose with…”
“…grinning like an idiot.”
“He raised a single, devastating eyebrow.”
As an opening line: “_____ was smaller than he remembered.”
“Oh my god, you did.”
“…agreed/nodded fervently.”
“…from the light of the muzzle flashes.”
“…said under his breath.”
“…stage-whispered.”
“Don’t make me regret this.”
“I’m ready to go, but I’m not ready to, you know, be gone.”
“…pinched the bridge of his nose.”
“…squawked in protest.”
“…in half as many ____.”
“…slumped in his chair.”
“Naturally.”
“There are matters I must attend to.”
“It seemed prudent to stay in their good graces.”
“The color drained from his face.”
“He ducked his head.”
“…incandescent rage.”
“…ruddy cheeks.”
“Without knowing what he was doing, ____ agreed/listened/tugged.”
“Oh, for—you think…”
“…the tide lapping at his feet.”
“All at once, he felt his anger melt away.”
“His anger melted away all at once.”
“All the anger—that rage, that fire—rushed out of him. In its place, all that remained was a hollow pit.”
“…but I’d bet the farm that…”
“He watched in silent terror.
-She swung / pulled the trigger / pressed the button.
-And terror turned to horror.”
“…with a cheshire grin.”
“I understand. Really, I do. But…”
“Like a drop of oil on the surface of a lake.”
“Hello, old friend.”
“There you are, old friend.”
“There you are.”
“In all likelihood…”
“I burned the wool that covered my eyes.”
“A story may become truth, but it never begins as truth.”
“A great many changes come about from belief in a lie.”
“To become better, one must first believe the lie that one can be better.”
“We all lie to ourselves, you more than most.”
“You are not the kind to walk into a minefield with naught but prayers on your lips. But left deaf and blind, what else can you do?”
“All I want(ed) is/was to…”
“A teller of tall tales laid low.”
“Seize him/her/them!”
“Curse you infernal wretches!”
“Must I do everything myself?”
“Unhand me!”
“‘You know nothing of pain.’ He smiled. ‘But you will.’”
“What is it?
-Nothing I can’t handle.”
“You sanctimonious asshole!”
“Not enough to feel like it matters, but enough that how I feel doesn’t.”
“You’ve got ice in your veins. I like that.”
“There’s a certain freedom in knowing when something’s out of your hands.”
“I would not welcome death. But I do not know if I would have the strength to fight it.”
“A world and a word of difference stand only a letter’s breadth apart.”
“I’d rather keep to my own misbegotten patch of city.”
“If that be/is the price I must pay, then I have coin to spare.”
“Give ____ my regards.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“I doubt that.”
“Don’t I know it.”
“…he said ruefully.”
“You’re much too young to be telling people things you think they need to hear.”
“You’re trying to _____.
-Is it working?”
“I need some fresh air.”
“…he spat ____’s name like a curse.”
“I refuse to believe otherwise.”
“I don’t make the rules, I simply set the stage.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“When I find out, I’ll let you know.”
“You leapt at the chance…”
“We’ll talk about this later.”
“Their blood is on your/my hands.”
“This guy walks in off the street and thinks he can…?”
“I have problems, same as anyone else.”
“You’re right about that, at least.”
“…and vice versa.”
“He wordlessly moved out of the way.”
“Stand. Aside.”
“…he said carefully.”
“And what of/about you?”
“Where will you go?”
“He turned to her with pleading eyes.”
“…sent a jet of flame roaring past…”
“He gasped for air.”
“For what it’s worth…”
“You seem to have me at a disadvantage.”
“…put his fist through the door.”
“…pumped his fist in the air.”
“Be the bigger person.”
“…as befits someone of your station/status.”
“Welcome back to the land of the living, __.”
“Seize him/her/them!”
“Unhand me!”
“Godspeed.”
“A word of advice…”
“…if you catch my meaning.”
“Luckily for you…”
“You’re going to catch cold if you stay out here.”
“I’m/You’re/He’s every bit the ___ you are.”
“He tried his damnedest to…”
“I cannot tolerate loose ends.”
“If push comes to shove…”
“Life waits for no man.”
“Ugh… What happened?”
“Let’s see you wriggle (your way) out of this/that (one).”
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Don’t be naïve.”
“…so let’s not and say we did.”
“Where ____ failed, ____ may yet prevail.”
“…or close to it.”
“Please accept this token of my appreciation.”
“Out of the mouth of babes.”
“The crowd was stunned into silence.”
“He loved her in a way that no one should ever call ‘love’.”
“I suppose I can’t argue with that.”
“He flew like an arrow shot from a bow.”
“Tell that to (my)…”
“Be that as it may…”
“You’re better off not knowing.”
“You’re in no position to make demands.”
“You sound just like him.”
“Do I/you/we have a choice?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“I have accepted what will come. But there is no peace in that, nor will there be.”
“I’d rather make a mistake with you than play it safe with anyone else.”
“He feigned surprise.”
“At last we agree on something.”
“You’re coming with me.”
“Much has changed in your absence / while you were away.”
“[cutting off other character’s rambling self-blame] Stop.”
“Please, you have to believe me!”
“…that familiar thrum of energy beneath his skin.”
“You have space in your heart for everyone in the world… and none left for yourself.”
“It’s so easy to suffer alone.”
“The distinction, fine as it may be, carries quite a bit of weight.”
“You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
“You cling so tight to that old version of me, I’ll leave you behind.”
“Mercy makes you good, but it does not make you right.”
“The words fall through my fingers like sand through an hourglass.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
#some of these are pulled from shows and games and such. most aren’t.#long post#sentences#words#phrases#quotes#writing#writblr#writeblr#lists#list#phrase list#writing prompts#writing prompt#castlevania#castlevania netflix#iron man#🐍
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Just some impulse thoughts on the penultimate episode of Witch from Mercury
>Also, poor Felsi; she really wanted to be on the plot-important main character squad, not referee dudes engaging in a foolish squabble. Of course, if either Guel or Lauda had died, there would have been drama, so good on Felsi for nipping that in the bud (don’t worry Felsi, I believe the series will get continued in some way, you’ll have more chances to become an honorary member of Earth House I’m sure).
>I think we can all agree that Suletta would be an absolute beast at bullet hole shmups, right? At very least, I think it’s pretty clear there’s literally no one else who can survive a game of laser tag with Eri like that.
>Miorine calls back to being lowkey one of the funniest characters in the show when she pulls out that keychain to worry about Suletta; like don’t misunderstand, it’s very sweet too, and I’m glad that the show’s been repeatedly demonstrating her and Suletta thinking about the other in these very personal ways, but it’s also funny cause I’m willing to bet that Miorine realized that, since Suletta was willing to forgive her, that meant she had kept the keychain, and that Miorine was the one who had to ask for it back.
>Y’know, between his conflicted feelings about his brother and the negative media spin about Miorine, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to conclude from an (ignorant) perspective like Lauda’s that Miorine is secretly evil and has been manipulating Guel, though I do think it’s another instance of the show stressing the importance of communication, since, if Guel had informed Lauda, his corporate heir apparent, of the details of his deal with Miorine, Lauda might not have leapt to the absurd conclusions he did.
>On the other hand, Lauda’s choice of timing to try to assassinate the supposedly evil CEO of space before she disarmed a doomsday device was definitely him being reckless and acting without thought.
>On the third hand, at least the Scwarzette looked cool, regardless of how one might feel about its pilot.
>So, Haros really are the moogles of Gundam, huh: cute, but genuinely dangerous in the wrong circumstances.
>Kenanji, while I do like that you’re trying to be mindful of your past sins and not make this a murder mission, I do feel like in this specific instance it would have been okay to let the kids have weapons (I’m generally very anti-gun, but I feel like there can be some exceptions to that, such as boarding a hostile space station equipped with a doomsday device).
>Sisters fighting : (
>Who *are* you talking to, Eri? Is that you Notrette? Are you a data-ghost too? Tell me your secrets
>Of course it comes back to tomatoes. Tomatoes really are love in this show (and witchcraft, let’s not forget).
>I’m glad Bel tried to do a good thing, and despite the moral cowardice she’s repeatedly shown, I was actually worried she was going to die.
>I’m not surprised at all that No. 5 secretly had a gun (was it Norea’s originally?). I am pleasantly surprised that he went for a shot that didn’t kill Prospera though.
>I am a bit surprised at folks complaining that the Space Assembly League chose to weaponize technology (that had been established for another purpose) and use it to ‘accidently’ fire a giant f-off laser. Like, first, the League’s been established as a gov’t. organization, so it’s not unreasonable for them to have access to the equivalent of a nuke, and second, weaponizing technology that was intended for a peaceful purpose was how this whole mess with Gundams got started in the first place, so it makes sense to call back to that.
>Miorine showing Prospera that, actually, the best revenge is forcing one’s enemy to live with the knowledge that she’s going to be family, whether she likes it or not.
>I’m not crying about Eri yet, because I’m not going to believe she’s dead until they confirm it next episode. I do think they made it equally plausible for her to live or die, though, and I like that they chose to spare Suletta or Miorine from ambiguous character death cliffhanger (which, let’s be frank, I don’t think anyone would have really believed), and instead did it with a character where there’s real uncertainty and tension.
>Besides, if Eri does live, I think there’s some genuinely interesting narrative choices they could make with that in any hypothetical continuation, not to mention it would continue with the show’s nuanced takes on transhumanism. Like, a lot of shows just frame it as ‘transhumanism = bad’, or, at best, misguided, but it does seem like we’re supposed to root for Dr. Cardo Nabo’s original ideals, not to mention we have a main character who’s a clone and is not particularly angsty about it (nor is her love interest for that matter), and trying to figure out a place for Eri in the world without, y’know, resorting to terrorism, would be an interesting way to continue the show.
>And now the big question: where the *heck* is this finale going? Maybe it would do us all good to take a deep breath, drink some water, touch some grass, and perhaps treat ourselves to a nice bowl of goat milk soup.
>Since it looks like there’s a good chance Prospera will survive, I wonder if she’ll escape Benerit’s retribution and end up pulling a Quattro Bajeena? It would be very funny if she ended showing up now and then to help Suletta and Miorine, with the latter two *well* aware of who she actually was.
>Also, I wonder why Prospera's Permet mark looks like that? It looks cool, but it's also vrry different from the others we've seen.
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