Last Line Challenge
Rules : in a new post, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as there are words (or as many as you feel like).
Thank you @cocotter for tagging me ☺️
So, there you go with the last line i wrote on one of my WIP (it was a few days ago because i spend more time reading on AO3 than progressing on things...)
Ponds didn't get to go ask his general in the end. It's Windu who came to him.
And for the tagging part, I'm going to play it like I'm not starstruck just a little bit and ask very nicely and politely (with a flower 🌻) if @varpusvaras @mamuzzy @here-be-bec and @commanderfoxdeservesbetter have anything you'd like to share ? Would love to know but no pressure what's over !
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Every year Pride feels different for me. I have been "out" in some form or another for another for half my life, but have never gone to a Pride celebration. No matter how many people I told I was bi, I didn't really feel like I was part of the larger queer community (also I just don't like parades). I finally found queer community a few years ago in a book club where I finally let myself explore gender and try using she/they pronouns. I found myself embracing the label of queer because it could encompass things I didn't even know about myself yet. I came out as nonbinary at work. And this year, after I thought I had evolved into my final form, I had the massively perspective-altering realization that I'm on the aromantic spectrum (currently vibing with demiromantic, but we'll see). That realization has helped me pick through a bunch of the biphobia I had internalized and that has been hurting me for years. So I'm coming into this Pride month with a new identity, just like I have so many times before. And I'm grateful that I keep questioning and keep changing. Years ago I didn't think I belonged in my high school's Gay Straight Alliance because I wasn't either of those two things, but today I'm happy calling myself gay, and bi, and queer, and femme, and nonbinary, and demiromantic. I used to think there wasn't enough space for me, but I found some spaces that fit.
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AU where Leo is trapped in the Prison Dimension for months instead of minutes and the only way he gets by with his sanity intact is through recording himself talking to his wrist comm.
When they finally manage to get Leo back and make him rest up to heal, Donnie can’t help but listen to the recordings left behind.
He’s not sure what exactly he’s expecting, only that his subconscious is screaming at him that it has to be heartbreaking, that it has to be torturous.
Instead, what Donnie is subject to is a full thousand hours’ worth of Jupiter Jim and Lou Jitsu crossover fanfiction. More than one part in the series. Spanning well over a million words.
(The worst part is that it’s actually good.)
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FNAF SPOILERS! SCROLL! TALKING ABOUT THE SPRINGLOCK SCENE!
i’ve seen so many people discussing the springlock scene in both negative and positive ways and i think it brings up really cool points about how matthew played that scene and balanced fan expectations with his own characterisation.
i think the discussions around this movie have rlly exposed the disconnect between fanon and canon in fnaf, especially talking abt the core games in isolation, bc frankly in the game universe (ignoring the books) we get Very Little characterisation for William other than the obvious, but Matthew managed to add so much in the way he talks and his body language.
in the reveal scene, we see afton at arguably his peak. in his first scene, he comes off as somewhat demeaning and judgemental until he recognises mike’s name, at which point he seems to have this nervous energy, rushing to cover it up but stumbling slightly, his reaction to the tables being turned even slightly is massive.
this is a man who committed multiple mrdrs in essentially broad daylight, hid the bodies in the most obvious place, and still got away with it, and then kept the crime scene as a trophy of his actions, and an ongoing prison sentence for his victims. he has been in complete control for decades, and is confident that he can deal with any kind of threat quickly. his confidence in his reveal is palpable
it changes when vanessa shoots him. the whole parallel with vanessa and the animatronics is hugely interesting too- how william refers to the animatronics almost endearingly as “kids” when he wants them to obey, how both vanny and the animatronics have an unearned loyalty to him, almost a pseudo-adoption through what he did to them, taking them from their parents and keeping them under his thumb, forever stuck as naive, forgiving, obedient children. vanessa breaking from that control shakes him, but the mask slips back into place almost immediately.
then, he’s outsmarted by the brother of one of his victims, and the child he planned to end next. his pseudo-children turn on him and he can no longer manipulate his appearance or shed his skin to escape. he explodes on them, and his language is incredibly telling that he is being dishonest.
he calls them small, trying to belittle them into submission, even though they are ten feet tall metal animatronics powered by rage. he is grasping at straws to regain control, and failing miserably.
finally, the springlocks go off. the locks in the movie look more like a ribcage, so the first two likely puncture his lungs. they’re slow, and painful, but he doesn’t scream or beg or sob. he grunts and groans, gritting his teeth and only letting out sounds of pain that sound almost involuntary. there is no way in hell he would visibly let himself show weakness or pain in front of these creatures that he believes he has control over. he isn’t brought to his knees until there are eight metal spikes embedded in his abdomen. he doesn’t let the mask fall for even a second, until he literally PUTS THE ACTUAL MASK ON and finally collapses. even then, he’s fighting for consciousness, twitching and writhing with no control over his body. william afton thrives on control, and his soul will not rest until he gets it back.
it’s why he keeps the pizzeria- he always comes back. he can’t help but return to the scene of the crime, putting on his old costume, continuing his killings. he revels in being a constant threat on the horizon. and now, he knows he is going to die, and he knows the suit will bring him back, and noone will be able to get rid of him then. so he puts the mask back on, and waits.
in terms of the sfx- they’re pretty accurate. with stab wounds, you need to leave the knife in the wound as long as possible for best chance of survival, as it stops the blood from escaping. in terms of the springlocks, there wouldn’t be copious amounts of blood as the locks are keeping the wounds filled- which is good because it means a slower, more painful death.
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as an ND able-bodied person, i just wanna say that cpunks are NOT doing anything wrong by not allowing us in their community. its completely okay and im actually very very happy that physically disabled people finally have their own space where they dont have to deal with ableism toward them all the time
able-bodied NDs have it made in this sense. we have TWO communities! we have neuropunk and madpunk, and you can go on any social media platform and easily find hundreds of other NDs on there along with little communities and shit. but physically disabled people dont have it that easy. when they DO find one that isnt just about ND people, it's still full of ableism. i've seen it myself and it makes me sick
so physically disabled people decided to make their OWN community. just for them. no one else. then THATS when able-bodied NDs start getting pissy and call them ableist when they were basically doing the exact same shit before.
you can handle not being allowed in one community. theres two more you can be part of just fine
if youre an able-bodied ND who sees yourself in any of this, maybe you should stop and look at yourself. make some improvements
to the cpunk community, dont let people like this tear you down. stand your ground, push these people out. you deserve your OWN safe space and no one will take that from you
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Mask will let the captain have this. Just this once. It wasn't just once.
Poor Mask kept falling to the ground. Luckily for him, either the captain or Tune are there to catch him
A continuation of THIS
Fun fact I didn't know until I started researching for this: apparently when someone looses an eye, it's possible that the other eye adapts. This is not good in the beginning as the remaining eye stops working for a while (???!). While long term it's not as noticeable (just less field of vision and some problems with depth perception sometimes) it's, uh... interesting :,D
Correct me if I'm wrong about this tho. I did my research, but sometimes there's misinformation out there so don't trust it 100% without checking it first.
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i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.
He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.
And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.
And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.
Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.
Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."
There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.
It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.
Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.
At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.
"Do you like to do anything?"
Nothing. Just silence.
Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.
Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.
Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.
And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.
He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.
Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.
So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.
"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"
"Don't."
He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.
Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"
"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."
It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"
The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."
Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."
And they fall back into silence.
Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."
He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.
(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)
At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.
Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.
("Tucker told me once--")
("Tucker?")
("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")
(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)
(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)
It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."
The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."
The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.
When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.
Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.
"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."
When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.
Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.
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Hey, I had a thought for the fantasy au! So on one of the previous versions of the WH website, there was a rhyme for the show that went:
A house is a place with four walls and a floor,
with a ceiling above and a lovely front door.
There's a bed to cradle you safely at night,
and windows to bring in the morning sunlight.
Your house is a mirror of just who you are,
A reflection that tells you to never stray far.
Which I thought might make a good incantation for when Wally properly summons Home (I can't remember if that's ever required for Warlocks but hey, it's still a fun poem regardless).
ohhhh this. i like this...
bonus og sketch! big ol eyes...
& no capalet because uhhhh eh nah and also i wanted Home's pendant to be on full display!
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glowing freckles cuz i think that's sick as hell
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once again i was fueled with coffee (did not sleep the whole night) but this time i doodled college au to cope bc ofc i did (also did not feel like sleeping wooo)
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I carried this thing for MONTHS with the EXPRESS PURPOSE of putting Raphael in it (knowing full well Larian wouldn't let me do that, mechanically) and I had one major miscalculation.
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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]
[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]
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.....where are the Bucchigiri?! fanfics....WHERE ARE THEY???!!!?!
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has no one else seen the new lethal company guys yet?? the little, mostly harmless friends?? ;-;
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Odile patting Molly Epithet Erased on the head, you know why
have two bc i care them
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I'm not sure if your event is open just yet (potential time differences) but may I request Lilia, as the ghost, with the prompt 6.Bump in the night with romantic, fluff and maybe a bit of horror cause we know Lilia likes to scare people please?
I'm so sorry if I didn't do this right 😅
Bump in the Night; Lilia Vanrouge
Content; Gender-neutral reader, implied romantic feelings/pining
Content Warning; Swearing, light fear
Word Count; 700+
A/N; I hope you like what I came up with, Lilia will always be a little imp. And don't worry about formatting, you did everything perfectly!
Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!
You were grumbling to yourself as you lit some candles while holding a flashlight under your chin.
The power had gone out due to a blizzard, right when you were in the middle of catching up on your favourite show. But the weather didn’t care about the plotline or the barely warm soup that was now sitting sadly on your stovetop. No show and no dinner, you were shit out of luck tonight by the looks of it.
So instead, you grabbed all the candles you could find, a small horde of blankets, and hunkered down.
You fidgeted around, picking at some loose strings, and tapping to the beat of the battery-operated clock.
… bored bored bored THIS SUCKS bored bored bored …
You dragged your hands down your face. Why couldn’t the power go out while you were asleep? Why did it have to go out on one of your only quiet nights to yourself? Why couldn’t the power wait until you had your dinner?
The wind howled outside as if it were mocking you.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and the candles snuffed out, one by one. Not by a draft, or wind, but as if someone was pinching off the flame. The room was cast into darkness, only the pale blue light from outside lighting everything up in a dim silver cast.
Face the issue at hand that had all levels of nope nope NOPE written all over it? Or, hide under the blankets like you were a kid again?
… you hid under the blankets. You reasoned it wasn’t from fear, but rather to conserve your body heat, since hey, the candles died out due to some unforeseen and totally normal reason.
But then you smelt something burning.
There was no power though, nothing was working so why was something burning?
You shuffled to the kitchen and peered out from your blanket cocoon.
The soup, which was barely lukewarm, was now a charred mess of black sludge.
“The hell,” you hissed, eyeing the baffling liquid. Part of your brain was screaming DANGER DANGER DANGER!!! And the other part? It was mourning the loss of your dinner.
A breathy chuckle was in your ear.
You wanted to move, but you couldn’t. You were frozen in place by some unseen force.
You felt delicate fingers trace the back of your neck before they came to a stop at a pulse point, which was easy enough to find since your pulse was beating like a trapped bird trying to escape a cage.
“You always look the same,” the voice whispered, the chuckle and playfulness long gone.
The voice flitted closer, and you could make out a hazy figure in your peripheral vision, but just barely.
The figure, a petite figure, came to a stop in front of you. The only thing about them that felt physical, that was the most clear, were their magenta almost red eyes. They bore down on you with a weight; of knowing, of countless years, of longing, and a mix of grief and mischievous — an odd combination.
“What do you want,” you asked, fighting your mouth to spit out the words.
The man, you assumed the spectre to be a man at least, gave you a soft smile.
He took your face into his cold hands, or at least tried to, and rubbed circles into the apple of your cheeks. “Many things, dearie,” he sighed softly, “but only if you want them too. I’ll leave if you want me to. I just want to see you happy.”
An odd thing to say when you nearly gave me a stroke.
Despite that near stroke though, you didn’t sense any malevolence from the ghostly figure who held you softly. And despite his cold touch, he was nothing but warmth, but in the sense of a weak candle.
One must just take care of the flame to see it grow.
Time after time, Lilia would find you, his spirit drawn towards yours.
I love you.
Never really said, but it would end in the same way. Him quietly loving you from the sidelines until he found his opening. An opening into your life, and your heart.
~~~~~~~
Taglist; @afunkyfreshblog @bloomstruck @eynnwwyjth @identity-theft-101 @ithseem @lucid-stories @moonsoup01637 @ryker-writes @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii
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HOLY. SHIT.
I don’t even wanna separate these?? TAKE THE WHOLE SHEET I’M SO PROUD OF IT WHAT????
I was playing around with expressions and OMG, I think I unlocked something???
It was mostly from yesterday’s post, I liked the way I drew Pizza Head so I decided to try drawing him again (since it’s been a while) AND GOD I LOVE THESE‼️‼️‼️ Seriously started out rough but then I just kind rolled with it! I like it! I like it a lot‼️ 😆😆
Also since I drew Brick yesterday as well, I decided to change the way I draw him, just a bit 🤏
Today was so fun AAAHHH!!!! 💞💞💞💞💞💞
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