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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

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Did You Know?

Prompt: the merlin fic you wrote with a crying arthur who didn't realize he had a hand in normalizing merlin to physical pain/punishment is HEARTBREAKING and i couldn't help but think while reading it that merlin may have just assumed that the knights and arthur //knew// visting knights were handsy w him and just didnt care, like he just thought it was normal and they would expect nothing less. anyway if u wanna write something that has that kind of idea/vibe i'd be delighted to read it! love u <3

Ahh yes more h/c here we go

Read on Ao3 Part 2

Warnings: visiting nobles and knights are dicks. implied/referenced rape/non-con and abuse NOTHING EXPLICIT

Pairings: merthur, can be platonic or romantic I don’t care

Word Count: 3031

Merlin is…confused.

He’s doing his job as a servant—not that he’s begrudging his position that much, destiny is destiny, after all—and putting up with all the things that servants are supposed to put up with.

The learning curve was very steep, don’t get him wrong. Coming from Ealdor, where the only authority figure he absolutely had to listen to was his mum, and straight into Camelot’s complex authority structure with rules and consequences and all the messy trappings of those horrid make-believes he and Will used to do when they were little boys. Hell, he ended his first full day in Camelot arrested, relying only on Gaius’s social powers in court to get him released. He’s not exactly a beacon of well-mannerisms.

So if it took him a while to get used to the type of work Arthur was going to have him do, that’s fine! He’s never had to put armor on anyone before, let alone the Crown Prince, who expected him to do all that and then some. He’s never known how to clean shiny pieces of metal that just serve to attract more attention than they’re worth, they never had shiny pieces of metal other than coin. And he’s certainly never known how to dodge swords being swung at his head. Never.

It wasn’t expected—no, it wasn’t, you prat—for him to be able to shrug on all these new responsibilities, even if he had been trained as a servant, because he’s never done them before. Thank the gods for Gwen, honestly, who was more than happy to make sure he at least knew how to hold a sword without cutting himself.

“Here’s the next one,” she’d called, handing him the next training sword from the batch, “now, try again.”

“This is the rag, this is the polish, and we just—ow!”

“Try not to polish the edge of the blade, Merlin.”

“I knew that,” he had muttered sheepishly, rubbing the cloth over the flat of the blade this time, “but thank you.”

Gwen had rolled her eyes fondly. “Just keep trying, you’re doing great.”

So he had just…done his best to learn what to do. Which would’ve been easier had he also not been learning how to act.

‘Yes, sire.’

‘No, sire.’

‘As you wish, sire.’

‘Sire’ this and ‘sire’ that and bloody hell, why is he not allowed to say anyone’s bloody name?

Formalities have never really been Merlin’s strong suit, not that he’s ever really needed them. And now that he has to use them, he’s starting to regret not paying attention to his mum’s scoldings. Just a little bit. Not that much. It’s not entirely his fault, is it, that those lectures were so boring and there were things he could’ve been doing.

But here…

Here, if he doesn’t address someone the right way, he gets cuffed around the head. The first time it happened, his hand flew to his head in shock. It wasn’t a particularly hard slap—he’s had worse walking into the door by himself—but the fact that someone was allowed to hit him, was expected to hit him, and it was his own fault was…jarring.

He learns his lesson about trying to hit back much quicker.

He still slips up from time to time, even now, after so many years, but his reflexes have gotten a lot better. Goblets, combs, hunks of bread, boots, staffs, just about every object he can think of, he’s had thrown at his head. With Arthur, it’s fine, he can snipe back perfectly well on his own, and it’s not like he’s going anywhere. He just bites back enough to make it a little more bearable. And besides, Arthur hasn’t ever seriously hurt him, maybe because he’s always lauding about how strong he is and how weak Merlin. Doesn’t want to break him.

And he can get away with it with some of the knights. The close ones, sure. Leon—well, he doesn’t try that much shite with Leon. Leon’s terrifying, not just because he’s one of the oldest knights and the longest-serving of Arthur’s inner circle, but because he knows things. Leon’s perception scares the hell out of Merlin, not in the least because he’s got so much to hide.

Does he ever think Leon would seriously hurt him? No, but he might tell people who would.

Percival is a big man. His arms are about the size of Merlin’s skull. He doesn’t want to get near that man’s bad side, even if he hasn’t found it yet.

Elyan is sneaky. He’s got just enough say to be dangerous, not enough to be an obvious suspect. And he’s got Gwen on his side—or more specifically, Gwen’s got him on her side. Gwen would never hurt him, he knows, he trusts her too much.

Lancelot is the only one he’s not afraid of, him and Gwaine. Mainly because he knows that they know.

…look, you do what Merlin’s been doing for as long as he’s been doing it, you slip up. It happens.

But Lancelot never looked at him differently. Never raised a hand to him to hurt him, always touched him gently, spoke softly, sparred with him in good faith. Even when he swings a spear at him in jest, it’s never too fast to actually bruise him if it connects.

Gwaine slaps him on the shoulder, claps him on the back, hard enough to bruise sometimes, but he cares. He hides it well—well, sort of—and looks out for Merlin when Lancelot can’t. But he knows Gwaine has a breaking point, and he’s not super keen on looking for it.

He can get away with it. A little. Not a lot.

But only with them.

With the other knights…

One of the hardest things he had to learn was that no one cared.

When a knight smacks him over the head with the flat of a dulled blade, it doesn’t matter that the sight of a blade swinging at his freezes terror in his throat, nor that the ring of the blade won’t go away for three hours. The others will just laugh and tell him to move his arse.

When a knight knocks the equipment out of his hands and snarls at him to get moving, it doesn’t matter that it’s often accompanied by a boot to his ribs. He’ll always get elbowed in the exact same place later and they won’t care about his wince.

When a knight decides that he’s had enough of Merlin just looking at him, he—

The other thing that Merlin’s had to learn very, very quickly, is that it’s better him than the other servants.

He has Gaius. Gaius will patch him up, no questions asked. And when he can’t go to Gaius, it’s not like he’ll be caught lurking suspiciously in his own quarters. And when he can’t do that, he has his magic.

None of the others do.

So he learns. He picks up the things he needs to know, puts his head down, and bears it.

That’s what servants are supposed to do.

So you can imagine that when the others look absolutely horrified as he explains to them that he knows how this works, he’s learned, he’s confused.

“Come on, guys, it’s not like the other servants don’t know this.”

“It’s funny,” Gwaine growls, his fist tightening on the table, “how you think that makes this any better.”

Merlin rolls his eyes. “I’m not a gossip, Gwaine—“

“That,” Elyan says, “is not true.”

“—okay fine, I enjoy a bit of the servant’s gossip as well as anyone, but not about this!” He shakes his head. “It’s fine, they know about it, it’s not like anyone cares.”

“See, Merlin,” Lancelot says quietly, “that’s where you’re wrong.”

Merlin frowns. What are they talking about? Who’s noticed? Is he doing it wrong? What does he need to fix?

See, his confusion only grows when he voices those concerns and the knights only seem to grow more upset.

“I can’t believe this,” Gwaine mutters, turning away, “how long has this been happening, Merlin?”

“Which part?”

Gwaine is doing a remarkable impersonation of someone who is extremely constipated. “…all of it.”

“I mean, it began as soon as I set foot in Camelot, if you want to go from the very beginning.”

Leon swallows. “And if we asked for you to be…more specific?”

Merlin huffs, throwing his arms up. “Why are you so concerned about this? It’s nothing to worry about!”

“You’re being abused, Merlin,” Arthur—since when has Arthur been this quiet?—says finally, looking at Merlin the same way he looked at Morgana when Uther strangled her against the back of the throne—see? It’s just something that happens here— “that’s definitely something to worry about.”

Merlin scoffs. “I’m not being abused, I’m just being treated like a servant.”

“If that’s what you think being treated like a servant means,” Gwaine says, standing, “then this conversation is going to take a lot longer than we thought.”

In response, Percival moves to stand in front of the door. Merlin sighs.

“You don’t have to block the exit, Percival, I know I’m not allowed to leave.”

A choked-off sound comes from Merlin’s left, followed by a muffled curse. Percival shakes his head.

“I’m over here to make sure no one else comes in to hurt you,” the knight says calmly, “not to make sure you don’t leave.”

“But if you want to,” Elyan says quickly, “you can.”

“No, no, I know a trap when I see one, no thank you.”

“It’s not a trap, Merlin,” Lancelot says, even as he looks to be about two seconds from crying for some reason, “if you truly wish to leave, you can. We won’t stop you.”

Merlin raises an eyebrow. “…sure.”

Arthur lowers his head. Merlin frowns, watching his shoulders tense.

“Are you alright?”

He gets his answer in the form of many unshed tears welling up in Arthur’s eyes as he raises his head.

“No, Merlin,” he says in a remarkably steady voice, “I’m not. But don’t worry about me.”

“That’s my job,” Merlin insists, striding forward, “let me help.”

Arthur catches him gently—gently?—gently by the elbows as he reaches for him, smiling sadly.

“Can I give you another way to help me?”

Merlin swallows heavily. “…what does it entail, exactly?”

“For starters, explaining why that question has you shaking in your boots.”

“I’m not—“ Merlin looks down to see Arthur’s hands are just about the only thing holding him up— “oh.”

“Sit,” Leon encourages, bringing a chair over and crouching in front of it. Around him, the knights lower themselves to the ground, with the exception of Percival, still by the door.

“Merlin,” Leon calls again, “can I ask you some questions? If you don’t want to answer any of them, that’s alright, but may I ask?”

Merlin blinks. “Sure?”

He gets a nod of thanks. “What do you understand your duties as a servant to be?”

“To help with the running of the castle and take care of Arthur’s needs.”

“Which are?”

“What—“

“Please,” Arthur says softly, “please, Merlin, I know it sounds silly, but…please?”

Well, he’s never been very good at saying no to upset Arthur. He sighs.

“Keeping his chambers clean, keeping track of his laundry, dressing him in the mornings, polishing his armor, bringing him food, escorting him to court affairs, and any other odd jobs he asks me to do.”

Leon nods. “And what about the knights? Do you have duties with us, too?”

“I’m supposed to help you train and see to your immediate needs with those, too.”

“Such as?”

“Equipment, water, food, chambers—“

“Chambers?” Lancelot frowns. “Why would you need to see to our chambers?”

“Not yours, but the visiting knights.” Merlin frowns as Arthur’s hand twitches on his elbow. “What?”

“Do they presume that you are their servant,” Leon asks in a low voice, “when you do so?”

“I am, aren’t I?” He looks to Arthur. “You assign me to them.”

“No, Merlin,” Arthur corrects gently, still looking like he’s about two seconds from crying and still taking Merlin by surprise at how soft he’s being, “I ask you to get them settled, that’s all.”

Merlin blinks. “Oh. Uh…”

“What do they ask you to do,” Leon asks, “as their servant?”

He furrows his brow, trying to remember. “Uh, change their sheets, see to their armor, start a fire, bring them dinner…”

Leon raises an eyebrow when he trails off. “Anything else?”

“They, um—“

Hands. Hands on his skin. Voices in his ear.

“Merlin.” Arthur gives him a shake. “Merlin.”

“Sorry,” he says instantly, “I just…”

He trails off again when he sees the absolutely heartbroken look on Arthur’s face.

“…Arthur?”

“Why,” Arthur whispers, “why do you let them…do that?”

Merlin frowns. “It’s fine.”

“It’s most certainly not fine.”

“It is,” Merlin argues, “it’s what servants are supposed to do, anyway, and it’s better me than the others.”

Gwaine muffles a curse again, and to his surprise, so does Lancelot.

“Merlin,” Leon says, calling his attention with how hoarse he sounds, “Merlin, why is it better you than the others if there’s nothing wrong with what’s happening to you?”

Oh.

Oh, no.

Merlin’s hands start to shake.

Something in his throat wells up and pushes against his jaw. It hurts. The bruises on his back start to smart.

“Why do you care,” he says instead, “why now?”

“We didn’t know,” Leon whispers, sounding every bit the man confessing his worst sin, “and we are so, so sorry that we didn’t.”

“And if you’re asking why we care,” Lancelot says, equally heartfelt, “then we are more sorry than you could ever know.”

Merlin frowns. “But you lot do it too.”

The room freezes.

Arthur yanks his hands away from Merlin like he’s been burned. Leon stifles a noise of his own as Elyan’s mouth drops open.

“What,” Gwaine manages after a few moments, “the fuck does that mean?”

“You—you hit me, you order me around, you—“ Merlin swings his head back and forth, looking at their shell-shocked faces— “why are you all looking at me like that?”

“Because you’ve just told us we’ve been abusing you since the moment you set foot in Camelot, Merlin,” Arthur whispers, tears finally starting to roll down his cheeks.

“But you knew!” Merlin’s hands fly to his hair as he cries out. “You knew this was happening, you could see it happening and you didn’t care!”

“I’m sorry, Merlin—“

“If we knew it was like this—“

“If you think we’d ever hurt you like that—“

“No, gods no, Merlin—“

“Of course we care—“

“Merlin,” Arthur whispers, holding out a shaking hand, “Merlin, please, please believe us that we would never be okay with you being mistreated like that. Like this.”

And godsdamnit all, the amount of sheer heartbreak in the room is enough to coax a lump into Merlin’s throat and spring tears down his cheeks. Arthur lets out a wounded noise as he sees them, reaching forward to gently, still gently, wipe them away. The naked concern on not just his face, but the others’ faces as well, only encourages more.

“I’m so sorry, Merlin,” he keeps saying, “I’m so, so, sorry.”

“Arthur, I—“ He’s cut off by a gasping sob— “Arthur—“

“Shh, shh, shh,” Arthur hushes frantically, cupping Merlin’s face in both hands, “shh, shh, Merlin, it’s alright, no one’s ever going to hurt you again, I swear it—“

“You’re damn right,” he hears Gwaine mutter as the other knights agree.

“—and I’m so sorry that you thought I’d be okay with it, that I was helping—“ Arthur’s voice cracks— “no, no, you’re—you’re my Merlin—I never want to see you hurt like that—I never mean to hurt you—“

“I know,” Merlin murmurs, “I—I know you don’t.”

Arthur, gentle Arthur, pulls him into the softest hug he’s ever had, cradling him like he’s something precious, something fragile, something to be savored and oh, oh, gods—

“Easy,” he hears Leon soothe, “easy does it now, come sit—come sit with us.”

He can’t quite manage to pry himself out of Arthur’s grip as he feels the knights come closer, huddling around the two of them in a protective circle. He even hears Percival’s heavy steps coming closer, a silent guardian, keeping watch.

“I don’t—“ he gasps— “I don’t understand.”

“We’ll help you,” Arthur promises in his ear, “we’ll help you figure it out.”

“But if anyone ever,” Gwaine growls, “and I mean ever does anything like that to you again, you tell us.”

Merlin nods frantically. “Okay, okay, I’ll tell you.”

“Thank you, Merlin,” Leon murmurs, “may I…?”

Merlin nods and Leon’s hand cards tenderly through his hair.

“Oh, Merlin,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “you came into our lives blustering about how servants were people too…and we never noticed this?”

The knight shudders and steels himself.

“We will do better.” He gives Merlin’s head one last pat. “We all will.”

“I can—“ Merlin swallows— “I can…ask for help?”

“Yes, Merlin,” Arthur promises instantly, “you can ask me for help, and if you think I’m letting another one of those knights near you ever again—“

Oh. Oh, wow.

The wave of protective fury that hits Merlin’s chest is—

Wow.

He’s still confused. Confused and more than a little scared.

But as he curls up in Arthur’s arms, held and kept with Camelot’s strongest knights curled around him too, protecting him, shielding him, he thinks he may finally start to feel safe.

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merthur #merthur fic #fic #dragonbabbles

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angzlicas · 3 years

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Since we've hit 100k works on ao3,

I've gotten many asks about my favorite Destiel fics! Instead of replying to them all, I thought I'd just list them here along with the summary, word count, and my opinion on each (as a side note, all of them are Explicit):

In a Mirror, Darkly by anyrei, mugglerock Words: 196,710, Canon

Summary: “Do you trust me, Dean?”

“You know I do,” Dean answered, his voice carrying resignation and sadness. He knew Cas was right. This was the only way if he wanted to help save his brother. He had to do it, even though everything in him wanted to fight it. But he trusted Cas with his life. And now he was going to show him just how deep that trust ran.

Dean fell to his knees in front of the angel, bowing his head forward as he was fitted with the extraordinarily heavy collar. Castiel’s fingers caressed his skin when he closed the clasp of the sign of slavery; the symbol that gave Dean’s life over to the angel’s mercy. Dean suppressed the urge to close his eyes.

Opinion: This fic is my all-time favorite. No seriously, it's the first fic I recommend to people when they ask. And I've read it 3 times over a 3 year period. I'll never get tired of reading it. It follows Cas and Dean having to pose as master and slave to rescue Sam from Angels in Limbo. Lots of smut, basically a Porn With Plot fic but the smut adds SO MUCH to the story. Amazing fic.

Taker of Souls by jscribbles Words: 128,665, Canon

Summary: The angels have fallen. Castiel is human, Sam is recovering from the trials, and Dean doesn’t want to expose them to the world as it’s crumbling outside the bunker doors.

To pass time in their solitude, Dean discovers a hidden room in the bunker full of dangerous magical artifacts and accidentally exposes his friends and family to an ancient horror. If Castiel thought adjusting to humanity was already a terror in itself, he experiences a world of pain when the ancient spirit Dean released chooses him as a vessel to fulfill its evil prophecy.

Castiel begins to change as voices call out to him in the night and take the form of the one righteous man he desires, temptation drawing him to complete a ritual that will allow one of Hell’s most feared ancient entities to occupy his vessel.

Before Sam, Dean, Kevin and Crowley know what is happening, they are thrown into a lockdown, unable to escape the bunker as the cruel, twisted monster inside of Castiel prowls the hallways, hunting them, thirsty for their blood, hungry for their souls.

Opinion: This one was very gory, very scary. A cheeseless and modern take on the horror movie The Evil Dead (1981 2013) where Cas is the villain but unwillingly. Heartbreaking angst with a happy ending, this little fic is overlooked because of being tagged as a crossover. I hadn't seen Evil Dead when I read the fic and the author did such a good job describing every single scene, I didn't need to. READ TAGS

Out of the Deep by @riseofthefallenone Words: 488,608, Mer!Cas/Human!Dean AU

Summary: Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep.

It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep.

Castiel should have listened better.

Opinion: WOW. Where to even start. This fic is a staple in the Destiel AU fandom. The world-building is absolutely incredible and the author stayed true to the characters' personalities and what makes Dean and Cas, Dean and Cas. I was hooked from the very first chapter and read it within 2 days. Although the 500k words may look daunting, it's ABSOLUTELY worth it, I promise. You'll get. everything you could want from this fic including fluff, angst, heartbreak, hurt/comfort, smut, just everything. And if you're staying away because of the mermaid thing, let me tell you. The author just makes it so realistic and believable and beautiful, a few chapters in is enough to change your mind.

The Graveyard Shift by @purgatory-jar, @riseofthefallenone Words: 620,733, Monsters Living In Harmony AU

Summary: Dean’s favourite coffee shop, The Graveyard Shift, is only open after the sun goes down. Which is perfect for him, because that’s exactly when he craves coffee the most while doing the overnight at the fire hall. The coffee shop’s owner is pretty perfect too, but it’s kind of a bummer that Dean never gets to see Cas during the day. In a world where the supernatural live more or less in peace with the rest of humanity, it’s a little impolite to ask Cas just what he really is - or what his dark past entails.

Opinion: Although it's over half a million words, this fic is incredible. From the world-building to the mysterious air it has, the art, as well as the writing, makes it a must-read. I can't tell you how many times I've recced this to someone in the fandom. I won't spoil it for you, but it's absolutely adorable. Again, the authors work so hard to make sure that Dean and Cas' personalities are true to the show's. It's coffee shop!au meets fireman!au meets monster!au. A slowburn truly worthy of it's title.

Hunting for Faith by @perunamuusa, @riseofthefallenone Words: 270,952, Reverse!verse AU

Summary: It starts a few days earlier.

Castiel first notices it in the middle of the night when the dreams of fire and screams have kept him awake. He’s kneeling before the altar, praying, when the glass in the windows start to shake, the very air vibrating around him. Castiel is on his feet and reaching for the gun tucked into the back of his pants as the shutters over the windows start to rattle.

Opinion: If you have ANY interest in Hunter!Cas/Angel!Dean, go read this fic. Like now. So, so awesome. I won't say any more other than Cas is a priest and a hunter and Dean and Sam are angels, because I don't want to spoil it. Truly a masterpiece.

If you want to see more of my favorites, check my BOOKMARKS on my Ao3!

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years

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Ectober Day 19: Shadow - Shadow Of Myself

Danny’s gotten himself hurt, but not to worry Valerie’s here. Now if only that stupid ghost Phantom wasn’t tagging along for the ride.

Valerie shifts her blaster in her arms, the metal creaking slightly, not sure what to do with the situation in front of her. Danny, human Danny, her friend and once love; was lying prone on the ground unconscious. And Phantom, that damn ghost ‘Danny’, archenemy and destroyer of lives; was practically cradling his torso and head, staring at her with a guarded ‘will you hurt me or help him’ look.

Valerie swallows, clicks her visor open and squints at him, but seeing the blood pooling on the ground makes her decision for her. Immediately dropping the weapon and rushing to kneel at Danny’s side. Snapping at Phantom and banking more than a little on him maintaining that ‘superhero’ facade he insisted on, “what happened”.

“Guys In White”.

That catches her off guard, “what?!?”, as she starts pulling out first aid while Phantom phases Danny’s sweater off. She doesn’t care or know why he burns it to ash. At least his freaky powers were useful for something, getting the top off with far less jarring than any human could manage. Him getting his damn shedding ecto-energy or whatever in Danny’s wound, or wounds, seriously doesn’t impress her though.

Phantom grumbles incoherently as he works practically seamlessly with her, using his intangibility to hold the skin over the large bullet hole apparently there closed without getting in her way of cleaning and sanitising. Using an ecto-flame to sanitise the needle to speed the process up. He does give her an actual answer though, probably trying to be a ‘distraction’, “they put a few things together”.

Valerie pushes the needle through and tries to ignore that she’s doing this to Danny’s body not hers, “put together what, Phantom”.

“Things”.

She makes her scowl very audible but doesn’t look away from her task. That’s enough to prompt him to explain further, good, “it’s not entirely my secret to tell, Val-”.

“Don’t call me that”.

She can hear the eye-roll in his voice, “Red. It’s his secret”.

Valerie scoffs, though keeps her hands working smoothly, pointedly ignoring the bits of blood getting smeared around, “like you have any problem spilling people's secrets”.

“That was to stop you from a suicide mission. Telling you his stuff won’t save his life”.

Fine. She’ll give him that one. That thing genuinely could have killed her. And Danny, this was bad but it wasn’t going to die here and now bad. If he was left alone then yes, he would... probably bleed out. And the only reason she was here was her scanner picking up on Phantom. Swallowing a little, “whatever. I would have been fine. But this whatever got him hurt. Even I know the G.I.W. don’t mess around and are extremists-”.

Phantom cuts her off, “coming from you that says a lot”. She pauses to glare at him very quickly before finishing up the stitching, “so we both know they absolutely would kill someone”. He doesn’t say anything as they move to sit Danny up, though his face ‘appears’ to be one of concerned concentration. Not that the ghost actually felt concern, it was just part of his stupid act. “Hold him”, he just nods as she moves to start wrapping Danny up. She’ll get the boy more genuine bandaging from her room, but he needs to be at least somewhat bandaged to get him there without risk. And as much as she’d like to get him the Hell away from the ghost, she’s not going to rush and risk his health just to do that.

Phantom sighs slightly after a while, “you do have a point”. Valerie huffs, at least he was willing to admit that. Snipping the bandaging and grabbing him under the armpits to move him onto her board after summoning it out.

Her actively scowling as Phantom floats up with her, even following after. Her snapping after a bit, “you’re like a damn shadow. I can’t shake you. Go away, ghost”.

Phantom giving a weirdly firm, “no”, immediately; which she glances at him for. The Zone was Phantom’s problem? Even with him insisting on his stupid false persona, he didn’t actively go out of his way to make sure people were fine outside of taking them to a hospital. She was perfectly capable of looking after Danny herself. Hell, she probably had better experience with anything ecto-related than the hospital did. “I don’t need your damn help, Phantom. And neither does he”.

Phantom scowls and rolls his eyes a little, “I know you won’t make him worse. You get along and won’t try sticking him in some anti-ecto bath or purifier dream catcher contraption like Jack and Maddie would”. Valerie has to blink those images out of her head, that was messed up and definitely something the Fenton’s would do but she’s not about to let the Spook distract her, “then get lost. The only reason I’m not shooting you now is to avoid jostling him. That’s it. So go away, or else”.

Groaning over the stupid stubborn ghosts, “no”, as she flys through her bedroom window. Quickly moving to lay him out on her bed and immediately summoning out a small pistol, pointing it at the ghost, “give me one damn reason I shouldn’t pump you full of holes. I told you to get lost. I’ll be nice and let you leave, if you leave right now, for helping but seriously. Get”.

Phantom stares at her for a bit, blinking once, “I... can’t”. Which fine, is enough to get her to pause.

Squinting at him, at him glancing from her to Danny and back. “And why the Hell not”. No point framing that accusation as a question.

The Spook squints at her right back, ghostly tail swishing in the air, “hinting at that answer is what the G.I.W. shot him over”. Now that’s enough to make her lower her weapon slightly. Only a little though.

Blinking and glaring at him, “so you really think I’d shoot him”. She almost feels insulted by that implication. Not to mention him still playing the stupid hero thing. ‘Protecting’ Danny.

He glances from her to Danny and back again for the second time, “that depends”.

Okay now she definitely is offended. Scowling meanly, “on?”. Did he have to be so stupidly elusive about everything and how dare he even claim she’d hurt Danny of all people.

“On how badly you want to ‘obliterate me out of existence’ versus ‘not get Danny hurt as collateral of your hunting’”, shrugging with obviously fake looseness, “or more specifically as collateral for your weirdly obsessive hatred for me”.

Her snapping, “it’s not obsessive when you destroyed my life, the town, and play this stupid hero crap to screw with the town and amass all your stupid ‘fans’”.

“That honestly sounds more like Ember than me”.

“Phantom”. Her pointing the pistol at him more genuinely again gets him to put up his hands in a surrendering motion, “hey hey now”.

“Well then start talking you damn ghost”, scowling a little at the raised eyebrow, “of course I care more about Danny than seeing you wiped off the face of this earth. Fucking duh, Phantom. Now explain”.

He stares like he’s judging her worth or some crap, like he’s anyone to judge that. “Have you ever compared us?”, adding when she just squints at him, “me and Danny, that is”.

She rolls her eyes though not taking her eyes off him, “why the Zone would I. And no, you having the same first name isn’t a reason to”.

Phantom scowls, “it was to them”.

She growls at him because this is getting annoying and she has a human Danny to look after, “stop beating around the damn bush and just spit it out already”. Him snapping right back at her, “because you won’t believe me”.

“Then why the fuck would the G.I.W. believe whatever!”.

“Because they don’t give a shit about him. Ancients, they tried to off a kid for having the same hair colour as me. Our similarities are way more suspicious!”.

Valerie smirks a little to herself at him looking like he hadn’t mean to say all that and seeming sheepish. Then frowning, “I don’t see a single damn similarity”.

“Personal bias due to personal relation. You don’t want to see the ghost you hate in the human you like, or the other way around. So you don’t. Same with the rest of the town. The G.I.W. aren’t blinded by that kind of bias”, him shrugging, “that’s what Jazz says anyway”.

That’s yet another thing that makes her pause and lower her weapon slightly, “you're... friendly with her”. What the Hell was that girl thinking?!? Dash or Paulina or even Sam she’d understand, but Jazz was a Fenton and freakishly smart.

“She knows things, yes. Figured it out on her own”, he sighs rubbing his eyes in obvious annoyance, “your suit has something that can tell a persons body measurements, right? Just use that”.

Valerie scowls, “I don’t take orders from you”, but does pop out the scanner while the ghost's tail solidifies into legs again and he plants himself on her floor dutifully. She scowls at him more for that. The nerve and ego, just entering a hunters home like that. At least this might make aiming at him easier, and locking onto him.

Turning the scanner on Danny though never taking her eyes off Phantom. Well until she pulls the scanner back over and glances at it. The thing read as reading the same body/person, the Hell? Scanning again, because was this thing malfunctioning. Audibly growling when the ghost chuckles at her. Stupid ghost found this funny. The results are the exact same. They had the exact same body shape, even hair shape. What the fuck. “Your bodies are the same”, he nods but frowns when she starts scowling at him, “what? Did you mould yourself after him or-”, scowl feeling and becoming genuinely angry, taking a step towards him, “are you Obsessed with him”, he immediately floats up waving his hands back and forth as she locks her pistol in on him, “that would explain why you constantly are ‘doing the job of a hunter’ and like puns so damn much! You just want to be near your fucking Obsession!”. Him successfully phasing through her floor to avoid the shot she fired off.

Him sticking his head over the window, at least the bastard was outside again, “what! No! That’s not it!”.

“Fucking bullshit!”, she immediately shoots at him again, “I’ve got no reason to believe a goddamn ghost!”.

“This is exactly what I was talking about!”, him phasing through the wall looking genuinely ticked off, “it doesn’t matter what I say or proof I give! You’re not going to believe me!”, and takes out her pistol with a small rock.

Her throwing the small crappy desk at him, all her furniture got an anti-ecto coating nowadays, “you’re a ghost!”.

He smashes the desk apart, “and you’re impossible!”.

Both of them jerking to a stop at a groan from the bed, snapping their heads over and both sighing when he doesn’t actually wake up. But it does knock a little sense into both of them. Valerie pinching the bridge of her nose and breathing. Looking back to Phantom, “get out. I don’t care what weird freaky ghost thing you’ve got for him. Leave. You don’t need to ‘protect’ him or whatever bullshit because I sure as shit ain’t harming him and I even more sure as shit ain’t going to let those G.I.W. asses anywhere near him. So get gone. Seriously. Fuck off”.

“Once again, I can’t”.

“Oh for fucks sake”. Scowling because she so doesn’t have time for this fucking bullshit, at least not until Danny is properly patched up. Moving as fast as she can and actually managing to catch the Spook by surprise with a hooked rope-like energy blast, pinning him to the wall and blocking out his powers. “Then just stay the fuck there and shut up. I don’t want to hear your crap”. Phantom rolls his eyes but thankfully doesn’t say shit, looks incredibly annoyed though; but what does she care. Instead focusing on getting the good bandaging and getting to work.

What does get her caught off guard again was that Danny’s wound didn’t look even slightly healed. Not a scab or nothing. She frowns, “why the Hell isn't he healing”, when she doesn’t get a response she looks to Phantom and scowls, “for the love of everything you pain in my ass. You can speak. Fuck I hate you. Happy?”.

Phantom smirks for a second, “yes. Very”, before frowning, “he’s not going to. Not like this anyway”.

Valerie grimaces at that, what the Hell did those men do to him? “Why?”.

Phantom opens and closes his mouth a couple times before watching her a little, “have you ever noticed that he doesn’t really seem... to heal like a normal person”.

Valerie rolls her eyes, everyone knew about Danny’s contamination problem and all the weird stupid complications of it. Like the clumsiness and just knowing when a ghost was about to show up. Then frowning a little, “so this has to do with his contamination”, that... that might be a problem. Danny’s contamination was unique even in the opinions of his parents. She barely knew the first thing in how to deal with that. No one did. Well, except Danny... and apparently his fucking ghost stalker.

Phantom sighs and looks around a little before looking to her face again, “he’s not contaminated. The ‘contamination’ is weird because he’s not ‘contaminated’”.

Valerie can’t help snapping at that, “then what the Hell is it and why do you know about it?!?”. Which he scowls at her over, “fucking complicated that’s what”, then shaking his head and seemingly calm in himself. Not that he should even be able to actually experience anger. “Ancients, do you have to be so difficult?”, sighing and mumbling something she doesn’t catch seemingly to himself before talking to her again, “I’m the ‘it’”.

“The fuck does that mean. The Hell did you do to him”, if she didn’t have him pinned she absolutely would be pulling another gun on him, she was tempted to as it was.

Phantom leans his head back, banging it on the wall, “ugh! Would you stop blaming me for everything?”.

Her snarking, “then stop being at fault”. He does chuckle a little at that but gives a weirdly hallow, “I hardly ever am”, and rights his head before she can comment on that, “okay look. Obviously not all us ghosties are the same, work the same-”.

She cuts him off, “a ghost’s still a ghost. Get to the point”.

He snaps at her a bit, “I’m bloody well tryin’, Ancients”. She waves for him to go on, effectively saying she maybe might not interrupt him. So long as he doesn’t say anything stupid. Which he will. He rolls his yes at her, “so as I was saying, we don’t all work the same. Surprise surprise, I’m a rare one”. Valerie muttering mostly to herself, “no fucking shit”, which he hears and chuckles at. Though she feels slightly more interested in this because no one had a damn clue why Phantom was fucking weird and this kinda sounded like she was about to find out. Though... apparently Danny was involved somehow. Which, she decidedly does not have a good feeling about.

“I’m what’s known as a Shadow, also called a half shade though. Only three of us exist”. Valerie actually whistles at that because damn. “Shade’s are what happen when the ghost's body was cremated or otherwise destroyed before they formed. Shade’s are... impressions rather than a whole”.

Okay that she has to butt in on, “but all ghosts are just ecto-impressions”.

Phantom looks at her like she’s stupid, “I thought you of all people wouldn’t believe that horse crap. If that were true born ghosts would be impossible, for one. For two, how the fuck would you get an emotional ectoplasmic impression of every fucking plant in the universe into one being? Or the time stream?”.

“There’s a time stream ghost”.

He rolls his eyes, “yes, but irrelevant. Basically none of Amity’s ghosts are Shade’s aka impressions. They are souls. Someone’s spirit. You know, that used to be in their body? Cremation and shit kinda wrecks the soul so you get an impression instead. Anyway-”. Valerie’s pretty sure he doesn’t realise how crazy and horrifying that is if it’s actually true. And sure there were plenty of people around Amity who tried to pitch the ‘ghosts are souls’ thing but literally every actual professional agreed that wasn’t the case. They were impressions not people. The ‘born a ghost’ and ‘timestream ghost’, if those were true at all, raised some questions though she guesses. Not pleasant ones, considering her job. But ghosts hurt people and were evil, not matter how the things were made. “-half Shade equals half impression. Duh”.

Valerie blinks at him, “so you’re half a typical ghost, that tells me nothing about Danny’s issue, Phantom. Though fine, nice to know why the heck things don’t damage you as much as they’re supposed to”, that was something that pissed her off to no end.

“I don’t have a corpse-”.

“Yeah no shit, you literally just said that ‘impressions’ don’t have those. Cremated or whatever. Still not the point”.

Phantom glares at her, “and you wonder why no one likes explaining crap to you”. She scowls at him for that while he continues, “as I was saying, I don’t have a corpse because I never had one. My bodies still walking around. Living. Breathing. Beating heart. You know, the works”. Valerie just stares at him because what the fuck was he trying to say here. That he was a dead of someone still alive? That makes zero fucking sense. “That makes no sense, idiot”.

Phantom actually snorts at that, “unnatural things don’t usually make sense. Hot tip, don’t stand inside a forming ghost portal. Electrocution’s also a pretty shit way to go. Well, half go”.

Valerie will admit to cringing at that, how ghosts died wasn’t really something she cared to think about or know. Especially since she’s sure most went in pretty nasty ways. “Congrats, that sounds.. awful”, tilting her head, “wait”, while Phantom mutters, “oh it was. Don’t recommend”.

Valerie squints at him, “Danny got electrocuted bad. His...”, frowning, “his parents said that gave him the... contamination”.

Phantom nods slowly, almost softly, “yeah”. While Valerie’s having just a slight freak out here. “Me forming was strange for everyone involved. But we hit it off immediately, got along. Makes sense being one and the same. Part of each other”, he does the closest to a shrug he can and she really doesn’t like where this is going, “it was ultimately him who chose my name you know. Danny Phantom for me, because it sounds like his. That, and it’s a pun”, chuckling and not even looking at her, like he was talking to himself at this point, “my suit, chosen by him. My symbol, designed by another human friendly. I am his pride and joy, I exist because of him. I’m his shadow”, looking to her, “Danny Fenton’s Shadow”.

Valerie just stares at him for a bit, “bullshit. You- no you are not part of him. No- what the fuck”, and scowls at him. The stupid thing is, it explained being identical. Stupid stupid stupid. She wanted nothing to do with it and didn’t want it to be happening. Holy fuck.

Phantom sighs and gives her a look that’s close to pitying, which she is absolutely having none of and promptly slaps him lightly; though he moves his head with it likely out of shock more than anything else. “Oooookaaaaay. I go baring my metaphorical soul to you and tell you my freaking death and you slap me? fucking seriously Val?”.

Valerie smacks him again but gentler, “don’t call me that!”.

“That an order to both me’s or just the dead one”. The bitter slightly snarky comment is more than enough to get Valerie’s mind back on track and force her to force herself to calm down. Valerie moving to sit against the bed leg and run a hand through her hair, sighing loudly. “Danny, living Danny, can call me whatever the Hell he wants. You call me Red, Phantom”, leaning her head back and sighing again, “this is really messed up”, sighing for the third time, “are you... are you seriously saying that you are part of Danny?”.

Phantom leans his head back, “intrinsically. Symbiotically eve-”. Valerie cutting him off with a snap, “explain”. That seems to get him upset again, him jerking his head up and eyes flaring green, “explain what!?! I already told you how this crap happened to us!”.

“That’s not what-”.

“Ancients fuck why did I think this was a good idea?!?!”.

“Phantom shut up”.

“No! Fuck you at this point! Ancients fuck!”.

Valerie blinks at him as he just bangs his head into the wall angrily. This didn’t seem faked. It really really didn’t. Maybe being half whatever changed things. Oh goddamnit. Her whispering, “you really actually do have emotions, don’t you”.

“Surprise surprise! All of us fucking do! It ain’t shit unique to me! Hunters are just a bunch of fucking bigots!”.

Valerie cringes at that. Curling up and tucking her knees under her chin, arms wrapped around her legs. “I fucked up”

“Oh you don’t say miss decides to hunt, maim and destroy an entire species because of a fucking dog wrecking some shit and labelling them all less than human things that deserve to be conquered into oblivion like some crappy ass Christopher Columbus”

“Okay that was just mean”.

“Fuck off. I think I’ve fucking earned being mean to you”.

Valerie blinks at him, she had never seen Phantom behave like this. Sure he got ‘mad’ sometimes but what the Hell. Was it because of her less than stellar reaction to him ‘baring his soul’? But how could the bastard blame her? He was telling her that he was an impression of one of her only friends! Someone she had -and still has if she’s honest with herself- a crush on! How the fuck was she supposed to react to that bullshit. Hell! She wouldn’t even consider it if it wasn’t for the identical crap and Danny not healing... Shaking her head, she shouldn’t be focused on some ghost when Danny needed help. Sighing, “ignoring everything. How the Hell do I or we or whatever, get him to heal”.

Phantom scowls audibly and loudly at the ceiling before huffing and looking down at her, “humph. Well I guess that’s one fucking way to make what you care about more obvious”, and huffs again, “well for bloody well starters you'd have to let me off this fucking wall”. Valerie glares at him because Hell no, she wasn’t freeing him so he can just run off or do who knows what. He scowls at her, “for once in your life could you maybe, maybe, believe I don’t have some stupid ulterior motives for crap?! And besides! If I was bloody well strong enough to do shit right now I wouldn’t even be stuck at all! Heck! You wouldn’t even be helping at all”.

Now that catches her off guard, “so they messed you up too”. So Phantom was ‘too weak’ to fix Danny himself, meaning the ghost actually intentionally lured her to them... and she can’t even be mad at that.

He scowls at her some more, before grumbling, “can’t genuinely harm one without the other”. Which makes her pale a little. That was why Phantom had been defensive and asked what she cared about more. To destroy him... she’d have to hurt Danny. Maybe even kill him. Swallowing thickly, “oh”. Phantom gives back the most sarcastic, “yeah”, she’s ever heard.

She shifts a bit uncomfortably, “so... what’s wrong with you? Will ‘fixing’ you ‘fix’ him?”, she can hardly believe she’s asking after a freaking ghosts well being. She absolutely doesn’t blame him for squinting mistrustfully and disbelievingly at her. Him leaning his head back and speaking after apparently deciding she was ‘being genuine’; whatever that meant to a ghost... or part ghost whatever. “Okay it’s easier to just fucking explain what they shot us with”.

“So they shot both of you with whatever”.

Phantom sighs, “they only shoot once. One bullet”. Which makes zero sense, “what? Did they just hit both of you at once? That’s stupid terrible luck even by Danny’s standards”, Danny did have truly awful luck; this ‘Shadow’ thing felt like proof of that.

Phantom shifts a little, “kinda”, moving his hands around as much as his bindings will allow as he explains, “the thing basically caused some heart/core attack bullshit, which made us fall out of sync and kicked me out. Gave me the boot very painfully might I add-”, glares at her, “-for both of us. Also effectively paralysed my Core, hence being stupid weak and not being able to replenish any ecto I spend. Can’t recover for shit”.

Valerie hums a little to herself, “so you can’t heal either”, which would make it brutally easy to destroy the ghost. No wonder the G.I.W. wanted to do this... but with Danny involved no way can she even consider that. Then squinting as that nagging ominous feeling returns, “what do you mean ‘kicked you out’”.

Phantom sighs and looks around awkwardly, “I told you. Symbiotic. Codependent. Coexisting. Cohabitating. Yada yada. Etcetera etcetera”, nodding his head in Danny’s direction, “I know you and everyone else wonder where the heck I constantly fuck off to all the time. When I’m not out showing some ghost what’s what, I pretty much stay asleep in Danny’s body”.

Valerie blinks and gapes at him, “so a weird fucked up overshadowing”. She’s trying not to be ticked off. She really is.

“What? No. There’s no ‘someone taking control over someone else’ going on and you sure as shit don’t share organs with any ghost overshadowing you”. That thought makes Valerie mentally shudder, the idea of a ghost invading her body was bad enough but also mixing in Its organs; Hell no. Her blinking a little though, “you... share organs? Like, the Core? And your ectoplasm which I guess is why everyone thinks he’s ecto-contaminated but it’s really just you being there?”, squinting at the air, “does he need your Core to heal or something”. That would be exactly Danny’s luck; and hers too honestly. Zone damn this stupid ghosts Core having a ‘helpful’ hero complex.

Phantom shrugs and looks around, apparently calmed down fast enough to nearly give her whiplash, “ectoplasm does the healing actually. So the paralysed Core thing doesn’t really matter there”, grumbling a little, “still a fucking pain in the ass, or Core, though”, sighing and nodding his head at Danny again, “but yeah, our Core and heart are basically intertwined”, scowling, “and I’ve never been awake and up and about this long before. Which apparently makes me cranky and emotional”, actually growling a little which pretty well confirmed him being moody, “which is making me deplete my energy even more. Which is annoying and making me more pissy”, grumbling at the floor, “fucking bullshit cycle of bullshit making a giant mound of awful smelly dragon shit and maybe someone threw in some diarrhea to really drive me up the walls in some desperate attempt to escape the literal sea of bullshit”.

Valerie blinks and snorts a little, “oh stop whining you ecto-baby”, then grimacing, “also, that’s seriously disgusting”. He scowls at her but chuckles a little. Her shuffling and standing up, being more serious, “if this keeps up with you, you’ll run yourself dry, right? Probably destroy yourself”, continuing at his annoyed nod, “and what? Will Danny just not heal then?”. That would be bad but if it wasn’t for the fact that he wasn’t waking up then he could arguably live fine. He’d just have to stay on top of the perpetually open wound and be more careful to avoid injuries. But... him healing would be better. Stupid Phantom having to be inside his freaking body or not.

Phantom rolls his eyes, “worse than ‘not heal’. I ‘die’, he dies. A person doesn’t get to exist as half a soul. Our odd crap pushes the boundaries of nature already as it is. Death and life has already had it up to here with us”, huffing, “and he’s not waking up because he’s effectively feeding me emotional energy through the air in an attempt to make up for my stupid lack of ecto-energy. Just the same I’m feeding him shedded ectoplasm to try to encourage healing. It’s enough to stop the bleeding but that’s it. Hence why I can’t leave. Both of us will fall apart. Well okay, he’d hemorrhage blood like a fountain, I’d dissolve into a puddle of ectoplasmic goop. Which would make your floor a very not pretty painting”.

Valerie looks down at him then to Danny, roughing her hair up which she absolutely catches Phantom mutter, “damnit, that’s hot”. Making her snap her head to him and screw her face up, “what???”, his cheeks are practically glowing green so he probably hadn’t meant to say that. But also, who the heck goes from graphic descriptions of death to ‘oh by the way you’re hot’.

He immediately gets all defensive, “we share everything! all right! Memories. Thoughts. Emotions. Feelings. Everything”. That just makes her screw up her face more, “so I basically dated you too. And wait a fucking second-”, going wide-eyed, “-does he know I’m Red then????”.

Phantom gives an impressively awkward, “I mean? Technically? Though yeah on the Red thing, fucking duh honestly”.

She’s not sure whether to be pissed, relieved, or scared. “I can’t fucking believe you... Believe you two”, scowling, “I would hit him if he wasn’t passed out”.

Phantom shrugs, “eh hitting me would achieve the same thing, but I’d rather you not. We’re getting kinda off track here and I’d really like to be home and he’d really like to not have a big hole in his chest”. Valerie scowls but glances at Danny, messing with her hair again though giving Phantom a weird look right after and pointedly stopping. “So is he... going to remember all this? See your memories?”.

“My memories are his memories”.

She absolutely groans over that, tilting her head back and glaring at the ceiling. He probably remembered her shooting at Phantom as if she were shooting at him, at the human Danny. Danny was even more reckless and stupid than she thought but... it made her feel kind of happy and warm.

“You’re blushing”.

She shakes her head and scowls at the stupid smirk on Phantom’s face, “shut up. He’s just stupid selfless that’s all”.

Phantom snorts and rolls his eyes, “I’m no different, you just don’t want to acknowledge that. Like I said”, then speaking in a singsong voice, “hunter bias and bigotry”. She hates that he has a point. She really really does. Stupid ghost. Stupid teenage boy.

She shakes her head, this is stupid, “I’ll freak out about that some other time. How do we fix this? Since I’m guessing you can’t”.

Phantom again gives her a look that clearly questions her intellect, “step one, release me”. She groans and glares at him but relinquishes and deactivates the device. Phantom standing up and brushing off his legs like they got dirty somehow, “fucking finally. Ancients you are difficult”.

“Apparently you’ve known that for a while and explicitly”.

“Shut up, I’m bitchy and moody”, him walking over to Danny, putting a hand on his forehead and frowning, “he’s starting to get a fever”.

Valerie groans, seriously? For fucks sake. “You've got to be kidding me. On top of everything else?”, glaring at the unconscious Danny a little, “you have the worst luck”.

“He can’t hear y-”.

“Shut up”.

Phantom chuckles before frowning again, “it’s because my Core’s ice. His body basically uses my Core to keep cool, regulate body temp. Core’s his own personal little ice pack and ac system. He can’t cool down without it”, grumbling, “not that I can cool him with a paralysed Core”. Valerie sighs, “we’ll deal with that later then. I don’t know how to un-paralyse a Core. How do we get you back in there to heal him with your ecto whatever”. She seriously can not believe she is trying to get a ghost inside someone. Even if that someone was apparently themselves or whatever the fuck. Half themselves? Ugh, this is ridiculous.

Phantom fidgets a bit, which fuck is ominous. “Okay step two, I need that pacifying basifier thingy of yours”.

Valerie quirks an eyebrow but hands it to him. Because at this point why the heck not give dangerous weapons to reckless dead guys that already use their fists like weapons of mass destruction. Fuck her life. “And if I wasn’t going to just give you my stuff?”.

Phantom smirks a bit as he sits down to tinker, “I’m not above mild petty theft”. She shoves his head for that one and grimaces over him ripping her gun apart and messing with stuff. While Phantom starts rambling, “I can’t merge with him all paralysed ‘cause my Core can’t connect and shit past all my ectoplasm. Hooray, a situation where my ecto is a real true pain in the ass, and I’ve been so good to it. That’s a lie, I’ve abused the shit out of it”, waving a hand around, “so need to be just my Core, not that I’ll be able to move like that. See I was just gonna knock you out or something. Sit on his chest, use this modified thingy, letting Core me just sorta fall on his chest and sink in”, doing small jazz hands, “tada”.

Valerie scowls, “fuck you too then”, though she does understand a little. And at least he had a plan.

“Desperate times, desperate measures”, tilting his head and chuckling a little, “in desperate times, desperate measures will be my pleasures”.

Valerie gives a very deadpan, “I hate you”, then sighs and crosses her arms, looking down at him, “well sitting on him probably won’t help his condition”.

Getting a cheery, “nope”, in response.

Valerie sighs again, choosing to ignore him being an idiot, “so what are you doing that doesn’t involve making the sick injured human more sick and injured”.

Phantom looks up at her and squints, “you could... pick me up and put me in him yourself”. Valerie can practically physically feel the cautiousness in that statement. Her swallowing, “and that won’t hurt anyone? Him, me, or, I guess, you?”.

Phantom grumbles, “it won’t feel all that pleasant for me. Our Cores are kinda sacred and sensitive to touch, you know. But no, it ain’t gonna hurt nobody”.

Valerie screws up her face a little, “that’s not meaning ‘sensitive’ in the sexual way is it?”, she doesn’t even want to know why her brain went that route. She emphatically doesn't. Phantom blinks and wheezes, starting to laugh hard enough that he has to stop tinkering, “what?!?!? No! I mean it can be but not like this or like that! Oh my Ancients! I can’t believe you asked that!”, then laughing some more, “that might have made my day!”, shaking his head and smirking at her, which she scowls at him for while he speaks, “don’t worry Red, it’s nothing like that. Haha”.

She huffs and shoves his head, “shut up, asshole”. He just snickers more so she crosses her arms. She’d turn her back on him but he’s still a damn ghost, even if she was apparently around him all the fucking time. He was apparently ‘asleep’ or whatever though, remembering whatever or not. So it’s a little different and that’s what she’s sticking to. Huffing a little while the ghost shakes his head.

Phantom eventually makes a stupid silly little cheer sound, “ah! Alright yeah, this should work”. The two of them kinda staring at each other for a bit, she could practically read caution and worry in his green eyes. This ‘emotional’ ghost thing was weird. But she sighs, she needs to look after Danny and this crap was basically all she had for options. So she takes the initiative, “I’m not gonna hurt your Core or whatever”, at him still staring, “or experiment on it”, getting more staring, “and I’ll put it, you, whatever, right in Danny’s chest. Happy?”.

He watches her for a bit before nodding, though not exactly looking pleased, “alright. But I, and Danny, am holding you to that”. Valerie gulps and nods, watching him stick the now disk-shaped ‘gun’ over his chest and push it to make a little pulse thing. The light’s a little blinding but she hears the orb? hit the ground with some static sounds following.

Blinking down at the pale blue glowing ball. Alright, so this is a Core. Fuck this is weird. “Alright self, time to pick up a freaking ghost organ. Fuck this is so messed up”. It makes some kind of bubble noise. Her shaking her head, “can you hear me or something”, it makes a hum sound that time.

Fuck it. She bends down and picks it up gingerly, hurting this thing would at the very least slow how quickly Danny could heal. Or make the fever worse. “That’s weird. This is weird. Fuck this entire day and the G.I.W. too for good measure”. It makes more bubbles, which she decidedly ignores.

Hold the thing oddly just felt like holding a ball, which probably wasn’t normal especially considering the whole ‘paralysed’ thing. Shaking her head and staring down at Danny some before going for it and simply placing the ball over his chest, near where the fucking gunshot wound was, and staring down as it seeps down through flesh and bone like it’s melting into him. After a bit, she elects to slump down tiredly in her shitty brown chair and just watch him. She’ll check the wounds and apparent fever every so often but there’s not much else she can really do. And that pisses her off just a little bit.

Valerie immediately bolts up and too Danny’s side when he groans, turns his head, and screws his eyes shut even more. “Danny?”. He just groans at her but does open an eye a little bit, “ugh”.

She sighs, at least he was awake, “first, how are you feeling? Second, I am so pissed with you”, she makes sure to add a bit of humour to that last bit.

Danny closes his eye, squeezes them and then opens both of them, “Val?”. She nods, “yeah. I’m here. Do you need anything?”. He exhales a bit heavily, “uh. Cold drink would be nice”. Which she kind of expected and thus had some ice water on hand, immediately passing it over to him, “thanks. So uh, all that, huh?”.

Valerie scoffs, sitting down on the floor leaning against the bed, hearing him turn over onto his side as she speaks, “yeah. Fucking bullshit. You’re bullshit. Phantom’s bullshit”, pausing and fiddling with her hair some, “the stuff he said, Phantom, was all that true?”, huffing, “I guess with remembering it the answer’s kinda obvious”. And fuck her over that. Because damn did this complicate stuff and raise so many moral questions about what she does. Because hasn’t she been effectively trying to destroy her friend, or part of him anyway, for years.

Danny chuckles sounding kinda tired, “yeah. But could we seriously not argue anymore. I kinda threw all my emotional energy at Phantom. Tired now... and hot. Oh and my chest feels like shit”.

Valerie shakes her head, “never can shut you up. And I’m not about to argue with you, Danny”, pulling herself up to sit on the bed next to him, hugging her knees, “but just how you are you? Like, where does Danny start and Phantom end? Is he literally just knocked out right now?”.

Danny sighs, “it’s complicated. We’re just two parts of the same person so there really isn’t an end or beginning. Though Phantom’s sleeping yeah, more like being dormant though“, shifting and looking her in the eyes, “appreciate being gentle with my Core though”.

“It’s stupid weird to hear you say ‘my Core’ especially since you’re talking about Phantom’s Core. Which is technically your Core”, and grumbling into her knees a bit incoherently.

Danny nods, “everything about my life, half-life, is stupid weird. Welcome to it I guess. Can I ask what you got all blushy about? After Phantom commented very stupidly -fuck I can’t believe he said that- on your hair fiddling thing”.

Valerie immediately heats up a little again, because this time it’s Danny not Phantom and that matters. Even if they’re kinda apparently the freaking same. “I... well, I never really stopped liking you. I just thought I was protecting you. Which now feels supremely stupid”. She had been trying to protect him from his fucking Ghostly body roommate. Heck! Danny was effectively protecting him.

He huffs a chuckle, “because it was stupid”, sighing, “though I could have been honest with you, but in a way I was protecting you. So it’s not really all on you. Though more we were protecting you, though when either of us says ‘I’ we usually mean we; same person and all that”. Danny adjusts and shoves the blankets around, probably seeking out a slightly cooler spot.

Valerie hums, staring forward, “stick to singulars honestly. Especially if Phantom’s just... you but a ghost. You constantly pointing out there’s a freaking ghost taking a nap in you is gonna freak me out right now. I’d really rather just make sure you’re alright”.

Danny pats her foot and smiles a little, though she can tell he’s got a fever now. He just looked overheated. “Sam and Tuck find it weird too but they like weird shit”.

She snorts at that, “you don’t say”. Though she’s kinda glad they know about Danny, Phantom, and his/their crap.

Danny smirks in a very stupid Phantom way, “I dare say. But I'm as fine as I can be really. I’m hot, tired both physically and emotionally, and in pain. But I’ve been worse. And there’s not much you can really do for me. I just need to heal and wait out the paralytic... and Phantom needs sleep, that’s kinda obvious though”. She snorts at that, muttering, “he sure turned into an emotional baby for a bit there”.

“Heh heh. Don’t remind me. That was embarrassing. Least it was just you. Though... he had a point. About you. You can be frustrating”.

She huffs at that, “It’s called being a strong woman with a strong personality”. He hums a bit, closing his eyes, “oh that’s fine. I like that. It’s the blindly believing bigotry thing and the hardcore hatred boner”.

“You did not just call it that. I’d hit you but I don’t want to give you a concussion on top of everything”, sighing, “and Phantom... likes me too then. The sharing feelings thing”.

Danny shifts around some more, which honestly makes her want to scold him; he’s gonna rip his stitching. “I’m pretty sure I can’t get concussions. Phantom definitely can’t. And yeah, obviously Phantom does. The trying to murder him thing kinda kills it a little. Makes him a little put off”.

“And you’re not?”.

Danny sighs, “we can tell whose memories are whose, Val. Ghosts don’t see or feel the world the way humans do. You can look like a completely different person through Phantom’s eyes. All the anger that rolls off you and lashes at the air. The... loneliness too. He likes when you get protective though”, he blushes a little though it could just be the fever, “you feel nice when you’re like that”.

Valerie doesn’t know what to do with that information really; so she stuffs it in a neat little box in her brain. Maybe that’ll encourage the Box Ghost to come running and give her something to shit-kick. Instead she just asks, “he can see emotions? That’s got to be a mind trip”, yawning a little and deciding to get up before she falls asleep or something. “It fine if I check that wound of yours? Before I pass the Hell out”. He chuckles and nods though doesn’t really seem to care, “yeah. I’m used to it. Go ahead, might look kinda green though”. Valerie only sighs as she gets to work unwrapping him carefully, and tries not to be totally weirded out by the pale green crusting and the fact that she can literally see ectoplasm bubbling, or something, around the stitching. Pointing as non-judging as possible, “is this normal?”. This was literally Phantom’s ectoplasm sloshing around Danny’s wound.

He hums, pokes at his chest, and nods. Sounding way to apathetic, “yeah pretty much. Dissolving the stitching a little. I have special stitches that don’t cause that”. All she has to do is frown for him to continue, “not a problem though. You can wrap me back up and let me nap now”. She chuckles a little but does as she’s asked, “I could use some sleep too”.

After finishing up she watches Danny a little as he gets comfortable in her bed, this was weird and a bit surreal. Turning to eye her chair, that would seriously not be comfortable. But sharing a bed was a bit much and Danny was injured. And the Phantom thing felt like a weird elephant in the room at the moment to her. Apparently, Danny can read minds now though, and starts scolding her, “no. Bad hunter. No sleeping in that ratty-ass chair. I can share”, tilting his head, “huh. That rhymed”. Valerie glares at the ceiling in fake exasperation though trying not to be weird about him just calling her a hunter, while Danny keeps going, “so long as you don’t mind the bed getting nippy or that Phantom might hop out for a bit to escape the heat”.

Valerie turns and blinks at him, “that fucker better not try shit then”. Fuck it though, that stupid chair will give her a serious kink in the neck. So she crawls into bed, though keeping a blanket between them, “and you keep your hands to yourself and mind your wounds”.

Danny chuckles and clearly goes out of his way to hug her some, “who do you take me for? Tuck?”, him chuckling almost awkwardly but it was more like he knew he should feel awkward but didn’t quite feel it; she’s blaming that on being emotionally drained. “Though I am a bit of a sleep cuddler. Sam’s gotten a lot of blackmail photos out of that”. Valerie absolutely snorts a laugh over that. Though that sounds like he absolutely sleeps cuddled with Tucker mostly. Which was kind of funny.

Danny speaks up again after a bit, with her being nearly asleep, “hey Val?”.

“Hmm?”.

“Where does this leave us?”.

Valerie shifts a bit, eyeing and playing with bits of her hair. She honestly didn’t know herself. Obvious she wasn’t going to off Phantom’s ectoplasmic ass, she is so not going to kill Danny. But friends with Phantom? Maybe. She still hates his damn guts and all the crap he pulls. But that barely aligns with her view of Danny, kind sweet funny Danny. And he was still cute. It was really fucking strange seeing him in Phantom and Phantom in him now. “We’ll see I think. I’m still gonna best Phantom’s stupid butt but I don’t want his ectoplasmic hide anymore. And you’re my friend still. More than that?... I don’t know”, yawning, “but I sure as shit ain’t dating Phantom”.

Danny snorts quietly, “Val. If you did, I think I’d have a heart attack. Ancients, the town would have a heart attack. But yeah, I could do without the second-hand murder attempts. Phantom would be bummed if you stopped picking fights with him entirely though”, chuckling, “he likes fighting and seeing you improve. But if we want to try things again, between us, then you guys need to at least be friends. Dating while you were fighting him all aggression and venom, was difficult”.

Valerie doesn’t have to question that one bit, “yeah”.

“Yeah”.

Valerie rolls her eyes and tries to snuggle into the blankets a bit more, “go to sleep Danny”. He just chuckles.

Valerie absolutely does wake up at one point during the night with Danny’s face smushed into her back and arms around her waist. But she had muttered a quiet, “seriously?”, over noticing Phantom sprawled out over top of everyone. At least there were blankets between all of them.

End.

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #463

“the siren sings a lonely song of all the wants & hungers / the lust of love, a brute desire”

Describe the person that you would like to be in three years. I want my mental health to be in great condition, I really want to be in much better physical shape, ideally be living with somebody in our own place, have a job I'm happy with, have an improved social life, my own license and car... Think back to when you first met your significant other (or ex). Was your first impression of them accurate? It's funny, I honestly don't remember what my first impression of Girt was. I don't even recall our first interaction. I'm sure it was most likely that he was friendly, because he is and always has been. What is your most noticeable personality trait? Probably that I'm really, really shy. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes. Which of your family members do you resemble the most? I guess one of my immediate sisters? People tend to say stuff like they can definitely tell we're related. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No. Who knows you better than anyone else? Hell, probably whoever reads these. When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? I guess you could call dating Girt a "new chapter." I have a much, much stronger feeling of this attempt being more successful than the last now that I've been able to change my angle on how I see him. What’s the most expensive thing your car needed to get done? I don't have my own vehicle and never have. If you had a thousand dollars to spend on a pricey brand you like but can’t really afford (until now of course), which ONE brand would you choose? *shrug* Most products of highly expensive brands I find hideous anyway. Do you still talk to any of your old teachers? Yeah. One is a close family friend and actually our landlord. Does your family still use the home phone or are you all on cell phones now? We haven't had a landline is yeeeeaaarrrrsssss. Ever go to another school’s prom? No; my boyfriend went to the same school as me. Do you ever venture into the woods? What do you normally do there? No; we live in the city now. :/ When I DID live in the woods, I absolutely loved wandering around with my camera for stuff to take pics of. Does your significant other ever make you mix CDs? None ever have but omg I wish that would be adorable. How did you dress your freshman year of high school? I was one of them emo kids. Would you ever date your best friend of the opposite sex? WELP that's what I'm doing lol. Would you say you have a high sex drive or not so much? I'd call it normal? Higher sometimes, lower other times, but not to either extreme. Come with an unpopular opinion. Silent Hill: Homecoming is a great game and while there's a lot of fan service from the movie, it belongs in the series. It's actually my second (or third)-favorite installment. Most of the SH community absolutely hate that game. What’s the worst thing a friend has either done or said to you? A lot of shit Colleen would say if we got into arguments. She'd ridicule effects of my depression, said I'd never know what it's like to pay my own bills, stuff like that. She's hateful as fuck and everything cut deep. What’s fake about you? Like extensions, fake nails, botox etc. Nothing physical. If you got the chance, would you audition for a reality show? No. Have you ever gotten into a Facebook fight? More than once. What’s the cheesiest thing you’ve ever experienced irl? Hm, I'm unsure. Favorite flavor of jelly bean? Probably watermelon. Do you use Tinder? If yes, have you ever met up with someone you matched? No. You do you, but if I understand Tinder correctly, it just seems... really shallow to me. Like don't you JUST see their picture to decide if you're interested or not? It just enforces the false belief that appearance really matters in love. You just poured your heart out to your crush and all he/she does is respond “k”. What do you respond/do? Well, I don't have a crush anymore; my boyfriend and I literally exchanged "I love you"s last night. That's not a crush. But for the sake of the question, I'll imagine I was single and this happened, in which case I would be both hurt and annoyed. Like, either tell me you return the feelings or not. It's not hard. What's your favorite thing to order from McDonald’s? I usually get a quarter pounder w/ cheese or a McDouble, occasionally with a small or medium fry, depending on how hungry I am. When do you feel your sexiest? Never, hunny. What's your favorite emoji? I don't really have one? It just depends on what the situation calls for. What’s your skincare routine? I don't really have one... I just use a washcloth to clean my face. Who all out of your immediate family smokes? My dad and stepmom. Do you like incense or candles better? Incense, totally. Do you respect your parents? Yeah. What’s your bf/gf’s name? It's technically Donald Jr., but since high school, I've known him as Girt, a nickname I won't explain for his privacy. Do you wear glasses? Yeah. Do you like The Beatles? I honestly don't. Except "Hey, Jude." What was the last reason you got excited? Last night. When we were saying goodbye, I was scared to, but I told Girt I loved him, and he immediately said it back confidently. My heart did like five flips. I'm still over the moon about it. Yes, we just got back together, but we've been in each other's lives as a constant since HS, and after changing my angle of how I looked at him, it's not at all platonic anymore. Do you know anyone who drinks the pickle juice from the jar? Sara does alskdjfklwejrl;er Name something crazy that’s happened recently? Uhhhh... I dunno. My life is very uneventful to have something really "crazy" happen. Can you say for a fact that you’re happy right now? I'm happy about some things, but also nervous and self-doubtful. Have you ever zip lined? No, but they look fun. I'd just be really scared of losing my grip. If you broke your computer, would you be able to fix it on your own? Ha, no. Have you ever been on a boat and got sick? No, but the one time I was at the beach and on a boat riding to an island, I was TERRIFIED I was going to get sick because of the waves. I didn't, thankfully. Did you sleep well last night? For the most part. My new mask might just be working. Do your parents try and plan your life for you? Not at all. Do you have any pictures of you kissing someone? Yes. List two things about yourself that you find embarrassing. My weight and how dark my leg hair is. Do you like to cuddle with your pet when you are sad? Yes. Do you find piercing attractive or unattractive? h o t Do you have any secret hiding spots in your room? To put money, yes. Do you like parmesan cheese on your spaghetti? Ew, no. I don't like parmesan. Does your best girl friend have any talents that you don’t? Yeah. She can animate well, for one. And sing like a fucking champ. Do you have any video game systems in your room? Which one(s)? My Nintendo DS Lite is in here. Well, and my laptop is a gaming one. What color eyes does the last person you kissed have? ... Oh WOW I've known this man for a fuckin decade and somehow I'm not sure??? But I want to say light blue? Have you ever taken a ride in a helicopter? No. Have you ever visited hot springs? No. How slowly or quickly would you say you eat? I'm aware I eat too fast, because my mom will point it out almost without fail if we eat in sight of each other. I'm not a messy eater at all, just... fast. Chewing your food and swallowing isn't a complex task. I've made active efforts to slow down, I just haven't been able to succeed. It doesn't feel normal. That and I've come to discover that when I chew food TOO much, I don't like the mushy texture of it in my mouth. What did you do the last time you were with friends? Yesterday Girt and I planned to watch shitty Netflix anime for some laughs, but we wound up starting Attack on Titan, which I am officially pretty into. What kind of cologne/perfume do you like the opposite sex to wear? I don't care if they wear any or not, so long as they know how to clean themselves and therefore not actually smell bad. If you celebrate Christmas, do you get a real tree or an artificial tree? We always use a fake one. Is there someone who means a lot to you but they don’t know that? My sisters probably don't, really... Is money important to you? Live your whole life poor and I want to see you answer "no" to this. Have you ever watched a meteor shower? No. Do you like Slim Jims? LOOOOOOOVE them. Would you rather write a mystery or love story? Love story. Are you muscular? No. Working for it. Do you have one of those removable hand-held shower heads? Yes. Originally, this house didn't, but I hated it so much that Mom bought one. How many burners does your stove have? Four. Has your car ever been broken into? Mom's hasn't.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''blood milk and sky'' by white zombie

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dust2dust34 · 3 years

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maaaaaaan bre it's been years and I've read it like 8 times already but Wanna Be Yours is Still. So. Good !!!!!

Thank you so much, beautiful anon! I am so happy to hear this!! Re-reading is the highest compliment I could as for as a writer. Also, I just really love that fic so much. It’s everything I love about Olicity. There’s a touch of angst, and it’s all because of what they assume, and we get Smitten!Oliver (my favorite Oliver), and they’re just so soft when they admit their feelings.

Guh.

Can I share my favorite part with you? It’s in Chapter 5 when they’re being all cute in the kitchen:

“You wanna help me cut these up and then we’ll go outside?”

“Before my stomach eats us both?” Felicity asked. His stomach gurgled next and she laughed. “Or each other.”

“Eating each other,” Oliver mused. “I was just fine with what I was eating upstairs.”

Felicity’s eyes widened for a very different reason this time and she smacked his arm. He grinned, shooting her a wink before she moved to the sink to wash her hands.

That was mistake number one. Well, no, actually his bringing up how his face had been buried between her legs just a few minutes ago was the first mistake. The second mistake was he didn’t look away when she sauntered over to the sink, so he caught every single bit of her shapely legs where they were encased in the thin black pants, as well as the hint of skin at her back when she leaned over for the soap. It occurred to him that he hadn’t spent nearly enough time worshiping the damn fine shape that was her ass. God, she had to have been working out since the last time he saw her, or maybe it was the pants? Either way, that needed to be rectified.

He should probably clean his hands again.

Yeah. For health reasons.

Just as Felicity turned on the water and started soaping up her fingers, Oliver stepped up behind her and reached around, covering her hands. She made a startled little noise before letting out a tiny little laugh when his fingers laced with hers, getting just as soapy.

The sound morphed into a gasp when he pressed the length of his body against her backside.

It was bold and a little dangerous considering how close to the edge they’d been upstairs, but Oliver didn’t care, and neither did she. A burst of euphoria hit his chest that he was able to do this at all as he pushed her into the counter, dipping down to rub the bulge in his jeans right against her ass. The joy mixed with the pleasure, making him feel faint in a way that had him gripping her hands for strength. She held him back just as tight and he nuzzled his way through her hair until he reached her neck. Her head fell to the side, and he took complete advantage of it, his tongue darting out to taste her.

She rotated her ass right against him, and he was so fucking sensitive that he shuddered, his eyes fluttering shut with a moan.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea.

Common sense flew right out the window a second later, though, as she whispered his name, her fingers tightening around his as she moved to grip the edge of the sink. Using it as leverage, she lifted herself up, rubbing against him.

Stars exploded against his lids, the combination of her soft ass and the tough denim against his painfully hard dick sending spiking pleasure straight through him.

Oliver hissed out a series of unintelligible curses and he dug his face into her throat, dragging his face up her jaw, his cheek brushing against hers.

“We should…” she started, her voice strained, fading, the opposite of convincing.

“Yeah,” Oliver replied, his breath sending spare strands of her hair brushing against his lips.

They should stop, but for a second he had absolutely no intention of doing that. No, his mind was already jumping ahead a couple of spaces, running through all the various places on the main floor he could pull her into and ravage her. It didn’t occur to him that they still didn’t have a condom, or that people were waiting for them outside, or that they had things to do. He just didn’t care. All he cared about was the woman in his arms, that she was here, with him, and that his feelings for her combining with the lust racing through his veins was exhilarating.

But he should stop. Because he didn’t want to do that to her, he reminded himself. The sappy side that she’d just teased him about wanted to make it as special and perfect as possible, preferably in his bed and with protection so he didn’t give himself a goddamn heart attack afterwards wondering if he’d pulled out soon enough.

Oliver suddenly stopped moving, pinning her to the counter. She whimpered her displeasure, just as caught up as he was - and god, that alone had him positively fucking floating - but she didn’t move either. At least not the way he thought she would.

Felicity let his hands go and spun in his arms, looking up at him from under heavy lids. It was too close to a come hither look and he groaned, falling against her, his lips slanting over hers. Her soapy hands landed on his chest, curling in his t-shirt as he grabbed her hips with equally soapy fingers, pulling her close.

He was so damn insatiable for her. She burned through him, scorching through his veins, setting him on fire in a way that he’d never felt before. That was addicting. That made him want more… and more she gave him. Felicity kissed him back with equal ardor, using his shirt to tug him down to her height. She moaned, just loud enough for him to hear, and it sent him into overdrive, notching up the need between them to blinding levels.

Neither of them heard the balcony door opening, or the sudden buzz of conversation outside, or the sound of someone’s exasperated sigh.

“Oh my god,” Tommy said, and that was loud enough to pierce the bubble they were caught in. They broke apart with heavy pants, Oliver jerking away from her like he’d just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Tommy was trying his hardest to keep from smiling as he pointed at them. “I’m separating you two. You guys are not allowed to be in the same room without supervision, you obviously can’t be trusted.” The words hung in the air between all three of them, right before Tommy burst out laughing. It was a loud boisterous noise that had both Oliver and Felicity chuckling with him. “Hell has frozen over,” Tommy declared. “I’m cockblocking my best friend in the worst way possible. I’d be sorry, except I’m starving, so at the same time…”

“Right,” Oliver said, nodding. He moved to scrub his face, but his hands were still soapy.

“And you, Ms. Smoak,” Tommy said, walking around the counter towards Oliver’s girlfriend, “are coming with me. Well, if you want it done right, at least.”

Does anyone else have any favorites?

#bre answers #and gets emotional #wanna be yours #olicity #Anonymous

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watchathon · 4 years

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Stitch Day Special: Lilo & Stitch

In case you’re finding this post just by browsing the tags I’ve used for this post, this is the Watch-a-Thon, a blog where I’m hoping to watch an episode of a show every one-to-two days, with a short blog post where I give my thoughts on what I’ve just seen. Each new point starts with a hyphen and a bolded first word.

- Like so.

But today? Well, today I’ve got an extra-special post in the wings about a movie, one of my favorite Disney movies, starring my absolute favorite Disney character: Lilo & Stitch!

- I like the variation on the Disney logo. That is the kind of stuff that they just couldn’t do with their new big fancy CGI logo.

- No clue why Jumba tried to deny that he created an experiment. I don’t much mind since it led to a funny joke, but c’mon, evil genius, you should be smart enough to plead guilty.

- “I would never, ever... make more than one.” *glances meaningfully in the direction of the series*

- “What is that monstrosity...?” He’s a cute widdle fluffball, that’s what he is!

- “Meega nala kweesta!” Canonically, this translates to “I want to destroy”, but that seems a little lukewarm for the reaction he got. Maybe a looser translation is in order...

There could be an entire aristocrats joke in those three words. The whole script to Batman v Superman. The opening notes to “Never Gonna Give You Up”...

Or maybe just “bitch”.

- Blood work is a lot different in space...

- Weird to imagine given the rest of the franchise, but Gantu was once a respected captain of the galactic federation.

- It’s easy to perceive Stitch as a dumb brute, but he’s pretty smart. He connected the dots all on his own, within minutes of his imprisonment, that if the guns are locked onto his DNA, he can use his saliva to trick them. Jumba wasn’t kidding when he boasted of his experiment’s intelligence.

- And not only was Gantu a captain, Pleakley was an expert on the planet Earth. Weird, innit...?

- “Are [humans] intelligent?” “No.” An exchange that only hurts more with every year.

- Love the implication that Pleakley was just suggesting several different relatives to assist with the capture of Stitch from when they were on the deck up until they got to the prison where Jumba was held.

- Now this is what we (or rather TVTropes) call an establishing character moment. A fish floats by holding a sandwich in its mouth, implying (soon confirming) that Lilo was the one to give it the sandwich, before rushing to the hula practice that she was late for, stopping to take a picture of a tourist along the way.

- And then after she arrives at hula practice, she explains that she had to give Pudge the fish a peanut butter sandwich because he controls the weather.

- No clue why the other girls are disgusted by Scrump. I always wanted a Scrump when I was a little lass.

- “Did you ever kill anyone?” Lilo asks the right questions.

- Nani, y’could’ve avoided this if you’d given a thumbs up instead...

- I don’t get the glare Cobra gives Nani after Lilo says that her friends need to be punished. Voodoo isn’t a failure of parenting. In many cases, at least...

- Licking Nani, growling after her capture, Lilo already has a lot in common with Stitch.

- Lucky that Lilo is such a quirky kid. The scene (semi-)explaining why she takes pictures of tourists was deleted, but it doesn’t feel like anything is missing because she already has a few habits that just plain inexplicable, like feeding Pudge, practicing voodoo with a pickle jar...

- Lilo wishing for an angel because of how lonely she is, that’s a sad moment. But also kinda funny in hindsight after she sarcastically names Stitch’s love interest Angel in the series.

- Lord give me the undisturbed...ness, of that frog who watched Stitch get run over by several trucks and only tilted its head.

- If they thought Stitch was dead, why did they keep it in the shelter? I mean, Lilo would probably adopt a dead dog, but she’s the outlier.

- I like how Jumba programmed, as part of Stitch’s destructive tendencies, an urge to steal everybody’s left shoe.

- You can just about pinpoint the moment where Stitch’s heart drops at learning that he’s on an island with no major cities.

- Just occurred to me that the badness level is red, and Stitch’s evil counterparts in the series (627 and Leroy) are both red.

- Ah, David. One of the best Disney love interests, mostly because he isn’t entirely a love interest. There is a mutual attraction, but Nani just isn’t ready for that with everything going on in her life, and David respects that and is happy to be a friend.

- I like how everyone except Lilo heavily suspects that Stitch isn’t a dog.

- Ohhh, the thought of Stitch having drank coffee. I mean, I’d love to see it, but it’d be Hell for Nani.

- Stitch looks just plain adorable with a lei.

- Well, Lilo, you did tell Stitch he should create something. And he did, he just destroyed his creation afterward.

- Pleakley is a gender-nonconforming icon.

- The first time we see Stitch doing something without even the intention of destroying anything is when he finds the book about the Ugly Duckling. It’s clear that he’s fascinated just by looking at it. And when Lilo explains the story? It resonates with him. Or, well, perhaps he wants it to resonate with him.

- I wish I had an evil koala dog that played records.

- Are we sure that “Meega nala kweesta” means “I want to destroy”? Maybe it means “I was born to dance”, ‘cause Stitch learns about dancing and in less than a minute he’s already an expert.

- I imagine this montage, or slightly earlier, would be when that deleted scene of Lilo trolling the obnoxious racist tourists originally came into play. And I like this scene, but, I do wish that scene hadn’t gotten cut. And I wish that they fully animated it and inserted it into the movie like Warner Bros did with The Iron Giant.

- Nothing cheers me up more than this scene of Stitch and his newfound family going surfing. And especially since Stitch is aquaphobic. He’s very much aware that he cannot swim, and likely wouldn’t survive if he fell off the board into the ocean. But even he eventually gets into the spirit of it, asks Lilo himself to go surfing, and enjoys a nice bonding moment with his family. And David.

- Of course Jumba and Pleakley had to ruin a perfectly sweet moment.

- And so we transition from a heartwarming wholesome moment, to a heartbreaking tearful moment. You can just see Nani holding back tears as she says that she needs to take Lilo home.

As for Stitch, David probably didn’t even realize that Stitch could understand him when he said that Lilo and Nani had a chance until Stitch came along. But Stitch did understand, and he’s visibly hurt by the idea. He always wanted to destroy, but in this moment, he’s ashamed of how he might have destroyed Lilo’s family.

- And the Ugly Ducking metaphor comes back, when in this moment, as Stitch is coming back to a family that he fears he may have ruined, he sees a lone duck... before that duck is followed by a big family of ducklings.

- Lilo says that Stitch cries at night. So, it would seem that even before he completely learned how to be nice, Stitch wasn’t entirely emotionless.

- This whole act of the film is heart-wrenching. First Nani gets confirmation that she and Lilo will be separated, then Stitch starts to fear that he may have caused it. Then because of that? Stitch leaves, taking only the Ugly Duckling book with him. And he can only see in himself the page of the Duckling, lost and crying.

- Then Jumba tells Stitch, who’s already in a bad place emotionally, that he was made to destroy, has no family, and could never have one.

- I don’t want to think about what happened to that chainsaw.

- There’s a certain feeling that comes up in the middle of this fight scene, where you realize that a house is being destroyed, a house belonging to a family that was very much at risk of separation. And you realize that this will only hurt their case beyond any repair.

- If the past day hadn’t been bad enough, Stitch is told by his best friend Lilo that he ruined everything, and to get away.

- And so Nani really does have her sister taken away. Now, taken away by aliens is a lot different than taken away by social services. It’s worse. This way Nani knows that Lilo definitely won’t get a loving family, and Nani will definitely never see her again.

- The confusion is visible on Jumba and Pleakley when Stitch goes and comforts Nani with a quote about family. All they know about Stitch is that he was made to destroy. And then, once he’s captured, he does just about the opposite.

- “Ih.” To this day I sometimes say Ih on reflex when asked a yes-or-no question. Guess I watched this movie way too many times as a kid, huh? ...I regret nothing.

- Originally, the big red plane-looking thing was supposed to just be a plane, and it would’ve flown through a city. And it was changed because it was too soon after 9/11. But me personally, I think the big red thing is real cool, and I like it flying through the valleys.

- “Stitch is unconscious.” I like that Jumba calls Stitch by his name here. In the series, he always calls Stitch “626″ but his name is Stitch. And I like the rare occasion when that’s respected by the mad genius who created him.

- I want to believe that Stitch dodged that laser for the sake of the frog he was holding more than for his own sake. Stitch is strong enough that a few moments later, he survives an explosion of a whole truck that he’s lying on top of.

- Stitch proudly calling himself “cute and fluffy” is another thing I just love. Might be reading too much into it, but I like that he can call himself by those descriptors and still have total confidence in his ability to kick Gantu’s patookie.

- My favorite scene in the movie, and the scene I took the picture from.

Stitch corrects the Grand Councilwoman about his name. And when he’s told that he needs to go in the ship (the implication being that he’ll be punished like he was meant to be at the beginning), he doesn’t rebel or try to escape. He only politely asks that he be allowed to say goodbye.

He explains that his family is “little and broken, but still good”, both explaining it to the councilwoman and reassuring Lilo and Nani.

This is the ultimate display of how Stitch has grown. And he grew because, despite what Jumba said, Stitch could find, and did find, the one true place he belonged: With a good, loving family.

- The Grand Councilwoman is clearly remorseful that they’ll have to separate Stitch from his family, but she can’t bend the law for this one case. And she doesn’t, but it just so happens that, legally speaking, Lilo owns Stitch. And, well, what self-respecting Grand Councilwoman would steal a child’s property?

- A lot of people (including middle-school me) say that the stuff with Stitch and the aliens get in the way of the story of Lilo and Nani. I disagree. These two stories are intertwined, both about people wanting to stay with the family where they know they belong. I just couldn’t, at all, imagine one without the other.

- Now this is the kind of ending I love. It’s become common for animated movies, sequels in particular, to end on the two main characters getting separated. But here? Stitch is now a definitive part of the family, and won’t be separated from them anytime soon. Anime? What anime?

FINAL THOUGHTS:

I guess I’ll be doing this on the rare occasion I cover movies...?

Anyway, this is a great movie. A modern classic. And one of very few things that doesn’t just hold up from when I was a kid, it gets better. When I was a tiny kid, I was only interested in the space aliens. When I was in my early teens, I thought the aliens were kiddy stuff.

But nowadays, I can truly appreciate it. I can appreciate how both aspects are vital to the movie. Lilo and Stitch are both equally important. You can’t have one without the other.

And most of all, I can appreciate the story of Stitch (as well as Jumba and Pleakley) finding a family, and Lilo (as well as Nani) saving theirs from being torn apart.

Lilo & Stitch brings me to tears of both joy and sadness every time I watch it. And I guarantee I’ll be watching it many more times in the future.

...Does it still count as a Stitch Day special if I’m posting after midnight? No, probably not. I thought I’d only take two hours, then I took four and a half. Guess that means I had more thoughts than I thought I did!

#Lilo and Stitch #Lilo & Stitch #language #Jumba Jookiba #Stitch #Experiment 626 #Captain Gantu #Wendy Pleakley #Lilo Pelekai #Scrump #Nani Pelekai #Cobra Bubbles #David Kawena #Grand Councilwoman #long post #my new best post yet #Movie

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onthesandsofdreams · 3 years

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At The Café

Fandom: ASoIaF Pairing: SanSan Rating: T Summary: Sandor had also started putting ‘Little bird’ on her order and, he had given her an extra lemon bar here and there. The bright smile she always gave him made him feel warm inside and nearly made him swoon. So much for him being cold and opposed to love. Words: 1541 Notes: For my big sis @thefeatherofhope, based on this prompt. Also, Sandor’s on the gentler side of this fic, because well, Sansa.

Read @ AO3

Sandor spotted his favorite customer coming in.

Sansa Stark, of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, had been coming to The Three Lions coffee shop without failing for the past three weeks. Near month, really. She always came in, laptop in a pink bag and always impeccably dressed.

The café always had people, being near the university made sure of that. Sandor took his classes and then came straight to work, and Sansa was another student. She was studying literature, specializing in myths and legends of Westeros. And she had been daily, and even if it was for one cup of latter (be it hot or cold). And she was always nice and pleasant, she had made an effort to befriend no only him, but Bronn and Hot Pie.

And Sandor would be lying if he didn’t say that he was, in fact, looking forward seeing her. Her visits, which lasted usually an hour, were the bright spots of his day. He had began calling her Little bird, because as soon as she formed in the queue to order, she would begin humming, from songs that he could recognize as love ballads or songs he had never heard before.

Sansa had been shy and reserved at first with him, Sandor couldn’t exactly blamed her. He was taller than she was head and shoulders, he had the scar on his face and he was built like a house. Overall, he knew very well that he gave an imposing and unfriendly impression. But Sansa was always polite, always inquiring about his day and small things about himself.

Once Sansa placed her order, usually a latte of some sort and a lemon bar, she would go and sit within sight of the cash register and Sandor could keep on looking at her. She would get her laptop and work, curiosity had once gotten the best of him, turns out, she was writing a romance book. He didn’t understand nor know the legend in which her book was based, but nevertheless, he encouraged her and wished her well.

Sandor had also started putting ‘Little bird’ on her order and, he had given her an extra lemon bar here and there. The bright smile she always gave him made him feel warm inside and nearly made him swoon. So much for him being cold and opposed to love.

And today, as Sansa opened the door, and smiled at him, Sandor knew that he was doomed. Sansa formed herself in line, there were only two others in front of her, which Sandor hurried over so they could move away and give her his attention.

“Morning Little bird,” Sandor spoke at her, loud enough to be heard over the constant jazz music that was on the café. “What will be this time?”

Sansa beamed at him, damned it, she looked so pretty dressed in a pale pink dress, hair loose and flats. “Hazelnut latte please Sandor, and oh! A bar of lemon bar and a cinnamon cookie package!”

Sandor nodded and marked it on the register, “Someone’s having a sweet tooth.” He finally had gotten to where he could joke and she would know it was a joke. “That’d be 6 on the dot.”

Sansa pulled a ten and gave it to him, and when he gave her her change, she dropped it smiling to the tip jar. “How’s work coming along today?”

Sandor shrugged, and moved prepared her order, “Not so bad, you arrived before the rush today. So you get some peace for your work, how’s the novel coming along?”

“It’s coming,” Sansa lifted her shoulders, but a frown came to her face. “I’m having some difficulty with a character, who knew that characters took a life of their own and made demands?”

“Not me,” Sandor, who had never written anything besides educational papers, was puzzled, but kept working until Sansa’s latte was done, then walked to the display and grabbed both the bar and the cookie package. “But I’m sure you’ll get a hang of it.”

Sansa beamed at him as he placed her order in front of her. “Thank you, Sandor!” She took her order, and made her way to her usual table, she placed her thing down and then pulled her laptop, she opened it and began her work.

Sandor watched her for a few moments, then shook his head and began to check for anything else to do. He had not lied that Sansa had arrived before the work rushed, so he checked the bakery items, and cleaned the area around the register and made sure the hot water for tea was ready. And when he finished right on time, for as soon as he finished, customers hit at the rush hour. He had to concentrated, but he still managed to cast some looks at Sansa, watched her from the corner of his eye as she sip her latte and she had already finished her bar and was munching on her cookies.

Once the rush hour passed, Sandor was tired and worn. “You alright Sandor?” Sansa asked, and when he looked around, he realized that they were the only two of them in the café.

“Rush hour took more out of me than expected,” Sandor admitted. “They left me to man the café alone today.”

Sandor watched as Sansa frowned, and looked around, noticing that they were alone. She then pointed at the chair in front of her, “Can you sit? Even for a moment?”

Sandor hesitated, but then, he pulled the chair and sat down, “A minute,” he grumbled, but already feeling light at the thought of being with Sansa for a few minutes. “Boss didn’t get an extra hand for me today.”

“That’s not fair to you,” Sansa frowned. “Who owns this place?”

“Cersei Lannister.” Sandor didn’t notice that Sansa had frozen in her spot. “And she put a lackey of hers as manager, he’s never here either.”

“Mother of Joffrey Baratheon?” Sandor looked up, Sansa’s voice sounded much lower than her usual chirpy tone.

“I think so,” Sandor didn’t keep up with that. But he recalled Cersei speaking of her ‘Joff’. “Why?”

“I had the… ‘privilege’ of dating Joffrey. He’s absolutely horrid, and Cersei too, so I’m sorry Sandor, you deserve better.”

Oh. Of course, because nice as Sansa was, she would gravitate towards handsome men. It’s stupid, why should he ever think he’d had a chance with her. Sandor stood, fortunately, there was a client walking in, he rushed to help tend to him. It was a good thing the man saved him before he made a fool out of himself by asking Sansa out.

Sandor did his best to ignore Sansa, but he couldn’t, because he could feel her gaze on him. Then, three other customers came in and he could pretend to give them his attention, but he knew that he was in a bad mood and it was leaking to his work, because the customers seemed to be unusually polite.

Sandor had thought of giving Sansa another lemon bar, but before he could, he saw her pick her things up. Balls, she was leaving already. Then, much to his surprise, she approached the front where he stood behind the register. She smiled at him, “I know this isn’t normal,” she told him. “But I wanted to ask if you’d like to go out in a date?”

Sandor froze. He couldn’t possibly have heard right. Sansa Stark, woman of his dreams did just not ask him out. But then, realized that something was up, because she nearly panic and began to back peddle. “Fine.” He managed to get out.

It was Sansa’s turn to freeze and give him a doubting look. “Are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s fine.”

He shook his head, “No,” damn it all to hell, his throat was dried and he was barely managing to utter single syllables words. “I mean, I’d like to.”

Sansa’s face cleared, “Oh! Great then! When are you free?”

“Saturday after 3.” Sandor’s heart beat loud, he was sure that Sansa could hear it. “Anywhere you want to go is fine.” Good, he managed to speak this time without sounding too desperate.

“Movies?” Sansa asked, a small smile on her face. “Maybe something after?”

“Movies and something sounds good.” Oh what a bloody idiot he was. Sandor knew he sounded like a fool, but truth be told, it wasn’t very often that girls like Sansa asked him out. One had asked him out for a bet. But he held no such fear in regards of Sansa, because she was actually a nice person who treated people with respect.

Sansa beamed at him, “Great! Then, how about we see at the movies at, say 5? That way you have time to do whatever you need without rushing?”

Sandor nodded quite frantically, “Yes, that works.”

“Excellent! Then, I’ll see you tomorrow Sandor, I have some things to take care off, bye!” With that Sansa rushed out of the café, not giving him the chance to say goodbye.

But he was happy, and Sandor knew himself to know that he was grinning like a loon. For once, he didn’t care.

#sansan #sansa x sandor #Sansa Stark #Sandor Clegane #asoiaf fic #ASoIaF #au: coffee shops #pre relationship fic

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ratsoh-writes · 3 years

Text

My curiosity got me, so here is my submission for a match up. Sorry it’s so long! I look forward to seeing your reasoning.

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

MOM FRIEND: I’m the friend that is almost over prepared for any situation and is protective, usually keeping others out of too much trouble or danger, but not stopping them from doing that stupid thing. Some people will only learn from doing it and so long as it won’t seriously injure or kill them, go for it. And I mean I am seriously prepared for most situations: I have fluffy throw blankets and pillows in my car for those who get cold, extra towels just in case we somehow get wet, umbrellas/ponchos for those who need one, snacks/water just in case someone gets hungry/thirsty, first aid kit for small injuries, etc. Ironically, I am the only one without a kid so far.

Extension of this would be my habit to act as the friend “nurse.” Willing to spend hours taking care of a friend who isn’t feeling well and give platonic cuddles if needed.

Another extension of this is my need to feed anyone who comes over. I think my love language is acts of service after typing all this.

I’M LISTENING: Always willing to offer an ear, even if I don’t believe I can council you. Plus, for some reason, people just end up splurging life stories or something that is bothering them to me. My life is mostly spent as that Naruto meme: “I have no clue what is going on, but I’ll pretend that I do.” But I’m responsible about it, I won’t offer advice I’m not sure about and will usually refer you to someone else I feel is up to the task.

PATIENT: Earned after years in customer service dealing with toddlers disguised as customers and also with friends who far exceed my energy levels. It takes a good bit to anger me or very specific things to set me off, such as when I have asked you to please stop bringing up that stressful memory of mine again and again.

I am told I am terrifying when I’m actually pissed. Most times I don’t remember much when I actually snap, just that it happened, but details are fuzzy.

CHILL: My counselor once told me if I “Was any more laid back, I’d be on her floor.” And to a point, she is correct. My house was on fire and my reaction wasn’t panic at the time, it was this odd calm that even when I reported the fire to my sister and authorities, they didn’t believe me until I showed them said fire. I am reserved with those I don’t know well or are not comfortable around. Once I trust you or you get me on a topic I love, I’m surprisingly passionate and animated.

I feel this fits under here, but I also tend to do things at my own pace. And not much can change that pace, but I will get what I set out to do done.

WHY ME?: Too many people tell me I’m a natural leader, even got awards for it, but I never volunteer or want to be the leader in anything. Usually, I just end up in that role somehow, some way. Most times because I hate disorganized messes and those times the people I am with have trouble making concrete decisions and need some guidance to work out what they really want to do or the pressure to actually make a decision. I may be an unwilling leader, but I will step up if needed.

WHIMSICAL: Sarcasm, dry and sometimes cheesy humour, and an attitude to boot, but it’s rarely to be mean. Most times it is me being playful and if I’m teasing you, that usually is a sign I like you and enjoy your company. Plus, sometimes people need a little laugh or a spark of different emotion to get them out of a funk.

INTEGRITY: I could absolutely despise someone, but like hell I’m going watch them suffer. In the same sense, if I take a job, I will do it right and not half ass it. And far too many times I’ve had to step in and explain certain concepts in order to disperse negativity or help others see from another perspective to avoid adversity.

CUDDLE BUG: With people I am comfortable with, I am a cuddly person and do not mind a lot of skinship. I am used to friends hanging all over me. Plus, sometimes I just want to curl up someone as well.

STRENGTHS:

Observant

Good communication skills & honest

Responsible & reliable

Full Size Human Heater. I am ridiculously warm and always putting off heat. Friends and coworkers alike use me as a portable heater.

Surprisingly good at being sly and collecting information if needed, like getting a shoe or ring size without tipping the person off it’s for a gift. If they manage to call it, I always fess up and playfully make a fuss they ruined the surprise.

WEAKNESSES:

Terrible at lying, so I tend to simply keep my mouth shut instead

Willfully oblivious to flirting and absolute flustered mess once I am forced to recognize said flirting

Vast open waters terrify me

Tendency to keep my troubles to myself and try to solve problems on my own (don’t want to be a burden)

Can become despondent if I feel useless at times

HOBBIES:

ART: I’ve dabbled in several different medias, but my favorite is just a pencil or pen and any paper I can get my hands on. I love drawing figures in dynamic poses. Second favorite is sculptures built from wire.

COSTUMES: I love Halloween, since it is the perfect excuse to make and wear my homemade costumes. It also lets me challenge myself by making more complicated pieces like hooves, horns, and even chain mail.

BAKING/COOKING/CANDY MAKING: I’m the cook in the house and I love it. Seeing people enjoy my food is my favorite part. Just don’t ask me for a recipe, I literally don’t have any and I won’t remember what I did.

ORGANIZING/CLEANING: I love puzzle games like Tetris and Catherine, and I love a challenge. Combine the two by having me organize and rearrange a space to make it work and I am in heaven.

STORYTELLING: When a story needs to be told, I am the one asked to tell it. Specifically I have such an entertaining way of telling it according to others. Animated and colorful language, plus a few pit stops along the way with some side stories.

PET PEEVES:

CONTRARY: Do not tell me to do something while I am doing it. That will kill any motivation I had to do it.

BACKHANDED COMPLIMENTS: It is possible to compliment someone without insulting them or others at the same time. It just makes the compliment feel empty and negative. And I tend to just hum and not reward that behaviour.

TOO MUCH ATTENTION: I don’t mind attention… from people I trust and are comfortable with. Feel free to cuddle and coddle away. But vast amounts of attention from those I feel are strangers or acquaintances will unnerve me (I have literally left functions immediately where I walked in and was bombarded with shouts and attention aimed at me-sensory overload I guess).

ODD HABITS:

NESTING: No, I don’t think I have enough blankets and pillows. Yes, the giant stuffed animal is needed and his name is Snuffie.

CRUSH ME: I’m serious, some days I need one of my friends or my bf to just lay all their dead weight on top of me. It’s just oddly therapeutic.

NO, I’M NOT PREGNANT: Just cause I ate that jar of olives in one sitting or suddenly was craving jalapeno juice and crushed ramen noodles. There are never enough pickles and yes, I am determined to try every kind–I may have a vinegar addiction.

IRONY: I bake some of the tastiest, sweetest desserts and make pralines and caramels, YET I myself do not favor sweet things.

HANDS: One thing I tended to do with nearly every boyfriend and guy friend I had was play with their hands and put their hands on my face/head. I lived for being pet and having people play with my hair.

NONVERBAL MOMENTS: Sometimes words are just too much, so I instead make sounds. Can be anywhere from a growl to a cat like noise, or the reliable “Nyeh.”

NO NOs:

I think I listed a few as I went through everything else, but ignoring boundaries is the main one. If I tell you I’m not comfortable with something, do not make me repeat myself. And usually that something is given a pass the first few times it is done before I say something and explain why I’m not comfortable with it.

Example: I have thick, curly hair, a product of my mixed heritage. Well, sometimes I like to straighten it and I did just that one day. Well, a coworker decided to make a backhanded compliment, stating I should stick to what works: straight hair over my natural hair. I had gotten on him about it, but I decided to vent to a friend about what happened as well. She proceeded to constantly repeat those hurtful words and while I knew she meant it playfully during those times, I had to stop her and sit her down, explain I don’t find it funny cause the words are linked to a hurtful, possibly racist memory that I didn’t want brought up again and again. Thankfully she understood and stopped. So, I don’t snap immediately and I understand sometimes a sit down needs to be done.

Ok first of all I gotta say that I absolutely loved reading your matchup!!! It’s so well organized, detailed, and the descriptions are pretty creative!!! Do you do any writing yourself, because you should!!! alright, geek out moment over.

i’ve got three guys you’re perfect for, but let’s go for the obvious one. HONEY!!

You’ve checked off everything on honey’s list: caring, organized, laid back, and good for cuddling. Now here’s what he has to offer to the table: he will cuddle you back. This guy is the ultimate cuddle slut. You’ll never feel unloved with him. Honey is also a very thoughtful and appreciative guy. He likes caring for his partners. You may be the mom friend, but he’ll do his best to return that love as well.

Honey is a little awkward, but he’s also sensitive and empathetic to how others feel. If he puts his foot in his mouth, just tell him and he’ll never bring it up again. Plus this guy is just so honest and genuine that backhanded compliments aren't really a thing with him.

Also you like costumes!!! He’s always wanted to try cosplay or theatre. You just might be the person to give him the courage to finally stick to one.

dating honey includes:

cuddles upon heaps of soft things. He has his own collections of ridiculously soft blankets and pillows that he’ll happily add to your collection. Honey is also a master at pillow forts.

honey is a good listener. He’ll be happy to just sit back and enjoy the stories you tell. There is start though, who is also the storyteller of the underswap home. Any funny story you give about your time together will be rewarded by star with a funny story from his and honey’s childhood, much to honey’s embarrassment

if you don't really like sweet things but love baking them, then honey and star will happily finish them for you. People are usually surprised about how just how much skeleton monsters can pack away.

he’s a picky eater and will give you the wtf face when you fufil your weird cravings though lol

Oh! Also if you’re wondering, the other two would’ve been either oak or coffee

#undertale imagines #underswap #matchups #submission

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dontasktheradiodemon · 4 years

Text

Snake Bite

Chat log: Alastor learns to dab, Sir Pentious bites Alastor, and a couple of lonely old villains reluctantly talk about feelings and friendship.

If the read more doesn't work for you and you've gotta see this WHOLE LONG CHAT LOG on your dash, 1) you're probably on mobile, and 2) I am very very sorry, it's tumblr's fault and I did what I could.

Sir Pentious

Pentious is waiting outside the Hotel in HIS realm, he's out back in the garden and pacing... well. As well as a snake can pace. He's occasionally slithering in a circle.

Alastor

Alastor's practically scrubbed his skin raw in the shower; he's brushed his teeth until he's numb to the taste of artificial mint; he's picked a bow tie out of the ones Angel gave him—one of the red-and-gold ones designated for "sparkly douchebags" with the matching rose-shaped pin; and he's left something like a will with Rosie, along with a note to put it into effect if she hasn't heard from him by Monday.

He doesn't know what to expect.

He knows biting is going to be involved. He knows Sir Pentious wanted him to clear his schedule, with no indication of how long he was supposed to clear it for. Everything else is a mystery. Interpreting Sir Pentious's words literally, he's going to get bitten, writhe around for a while in excruciating pain, and then go home.

But knowing Sir Pentious—knowing his own—it might be a plot to disable Alastor so Sir Pentious can gloat over him for an hour before taking off his head with an exterminator's blade. And knowing the population of Hell in general, it might all be a euphemism for something far more salacious that he was simply expected to assume. All he knows for sure is that Sir Pentious is going to be very close, and aside from that it's going to be very unpleasant.

He could have asked for clarification. But asking for clarification would imply that his answer would change depending on Sir Pentious's.

It won't.

So here he is. Painfully clean, absolutely clueless, braced for anything, looking around the lobby, and realizing he's actually braced himself for anything EXCEPT the possibility that he might be stood up completely.

A few minutes after one, he sends out a few shadows as espionage—to Sir Pentious's room, to the boiler room, to the hotel's public areas—and finally, relieved, heads to the garden. He wasn't expecting outside. Maybe Sir Pentious wants to show off his big victory over the great Radio Demon.

When Alastor finally sees him, by way of greeting he calls out, "So how DOES one perform a 'dab'?"

Sir Pentious

Pentious awaited him in the garden, merely to avoid the eyes of that Weird Cat and the others who hung around the Hotel. The outside was brighter, and provided much more ominous lighting. Upon seeing Alastor and hearing his voice, he perked up quite suddenly, hood raising.

The question gets a scoff out of him.

"THE DAB? YOU DON'T KNOW??? IT'SSS LIKE THISS!" Stretching one arm out to the right, he bends his left at the elbow, and dunks his head towards the bend in his arm, holding the pose for at least three seconds.

Alastor

"Like this?" He copies the gesture, a mirror image of Sir Pentious's. A new weapon in his arsenal. "Ha. Like Dracula trying to hide from the sun." He plays a sizzling bacon-in-a-frying-pan sound, like vampire skin burning in the day.

Sir Pentious

Pentious claps his hands together, clearly amused.

"YESSS, JUSSST LIKE THAT! THEY HATE THAT ONE THE MOSSSST."

Alastor

The applause sends a jolt through his chest that he studiously ignores. "I'll add it to my catalogue of torture techniques."

He'd stopped walking far enough away from Sir Pentious that they're out of arm's reach of each other but close enough that they can talk at a normal volume—he wants to get so much closer and stay so much farther away, and this is the point where the impulses barely balanced out. Doing his best not to sound as awkward as he feels, he says, "So, speaking of Dracula..." He spreads his arms: here I am, ready and willing. "Were you planning on having this bite out here? Fine weather for it."

Sir Pentious

Pentious eyes him--he's happy with this distance, too. Satisfied, though, he wants to get closer too... his fangs ache a little, watch the other spread his arms. Yes, they had agreed upon that... At the time, he really didn't think that Alastor would agree. And now here they were! His head darts around some, the cobra looking him over.

"YOU AREN'T GOING TO TRY TO SSSLITHER OUT OF THISSS, ARE YOU, DEEREST ALASTOR?"

Alastor

The jolt is replaced by something more like a knife at the punny term of endeerment. He thinks he kept his wince off his face, but he's not totally sure. He lets his arms drop. "If I was going to be a coward, I would have gotten it over with before agreeing to meet and wasting both our time. I even dressed up for the occasion." He tilts his head, calling attention to his new bow tie.

The trophy Sir Pentious is showing off in his own attire hasn't escaped his notice.

Sir Pentious

"AH, I NOTICED. SSO HAVE I."

He pulls on the bow-tie gift from Alastor, truly VERY smug about it.

"THEN HOLD SSSSTILL..." He moved closer, quite suddenly--the rapid and threatening striking of a snake, his tongue flicking as he was mere inches away from the other.

Alastor

Alastor's eyes widen, he leans back, and his hand flies halfway up to his throat; and then he freezes. Damn. So much for acting completely unflappable.

Sir Pentious would enjoy seeing him flinch, at least.

So. Outside it is. Sir Pentious is probably hoping half of Hell will hear him make the Radio Demon scream.

Alastor completes the motion of his hand up to his throat, but only to undo his tie and fold down his high collar. When was the last time he'd been this close to Sir Pentious? Alastor can see individual scales on his face. He forces himself to make eye contact, offers a wan smile, and says, "Ready when you are."

Sir Pentious

He certainly does enjoy it.

His tongue flicks again, the appendage briefly touching the other's cheek. He didn't MEAN anything weird by it, but he certainly got a scent of him.

Pink hellish slitted eyes focused on the other, and he opened his mouth, baring those enormous fangs. Not yet dripping with venom, but oh the threat was there... Not allowing for anymore hesitation, he lunged--SINKING his fangs into Alastor's neck, deep and piercing.

Alastor

Alastor's eyes automatically squeeze shut as Sir Pentious licks him, his breath freezing. Before he has a chance to process the what the hell that means—

He gasps in sharply, a noisy crackling sound, as Sir Pentious's fangs sink in; but the gasp itself is buried under the sound of his voice stuttering across several stations, bursts of overlapping songs—a few incoherent notes of "Ah, Sweet Mystery of Life" and " Snake Eyes" and "Black Snake Moan." The pain from the bite alone is excruciating. Focusing. Focusing him primarily on the fact that Sir Pentious's face is pressed between Alastor's shoulder and his throat.

Sir Pentious

Pentious didn't really know what to expect upon sinking his fangs in, but the radio sounds should have been first on his guess list. It was definitely jarring to hear them so close to his head. Pentious places his hands on both of Alastor's shoulders, now digging his claws into his suit. Just claw him up! Why not!!!

At this closeness, it was all too easy to hear that raspy, human like breathing that cobras made. Like he was going to devour the Radio Demon whole.

Alastor

If Sir Pentious wants to take a strip of Alastor's throat with him when he pulled back—hell, if he wants to take Alastor's whole shoulder—Alastor isn't going to complain. He has to bite his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed to fight the urge to bite Sir Pent back—he's RIGHT THERE, it would be SO EASY to taste his blood—but that would be the end of this trust exercise.

At times it's struck Alastor that Sir Pentious's hissing sounds more than passingly close to a radio's static—and that's even more evident now, hearing his breathing like a rush of wind over a microphone, blowing over his neck. Alastor tries to steady his stuttery station-jumping breath. He leans into the pain cutting up his shoulders and curls his claws into the fabric at the waist of Sir Pent's jacket.

Sir Pentious

He can taste Alastor's blood, and it fills him with madness.

Pentious draws back, blood coating his fangs, as he holds the other up.

"HHMMM.... YOU REALLY DIDN'T MOVE. HAD YOU TRIED, I WOULD HAVE INJECTED YOU WITH MY VENOM!!!"

... But also, the lack of trying to escape, of trying to turn this into some sick broadcast... It resonated with the inventor. Pentious looked over his former ally, and frustration filled his gaze. Frustration and longing.

"... Why couldn't you have ssstayed?"

Of course, this wasn't the same Alastor. Not his own, but... whatever. A moment of vulnerability, just one.

Alastor

Alastor leans longingly after the retreating fangs before catching himself and straightening back up.

At the question, for a moment, his smile almost cracks. His brows draw closer, the corner of his bloody mouth twitches. When he replies, the constant distortion overlaying his voice dies. He almost sounds like a person. "Because I'm a coward."

He didn't mean to say it. He would never have said it under any other circumstances, but he's dizzy and lightheaded and euphoric from the pain and the close contact, and sick guilt he's spent over half a century trying to suppress is buzzing in his chest—and he's said it now.

Sir Pentious

The admission causes Pentious' hood to flare out--whatever he was expecting to hear then, well, just as before, it completely caught him off guard. He couldn't take it at face value, he couldn't trust him. His hand immediate shoots to Alastor's neck, grabbing him and pulling him closer.

"ARE YOU MOCKING ME, ALASSTOR? TELLING ME WHAT YOU THINK I'D WANT TO HEAR??? YOU??? A COWARD??? YOU MUSSST THINK ME A FOOL!!!"

Not that it sounded any which way! But... Pentious was angry to hear it, all the same. It's like he wanted the other to deny it, he wanted him to make up some sort of joke and play him for a fool. He wanted an excuse to tear him apart--but hearing this vulnerability in return put a sense of mortality in him he hadn't known in so, so long.

He'd been betrayed by his only friend, after all, and the serpent struggled so much in trying to make any.

It had been years since then, but still... It hurt him in a way he hadn't thought possible for his old black heart.

Alastor

His hands immediately fly up to the hand around his neck, claws digging into the wrist, prepared to wrench it off—and then, just as abruptly, he forces himself to let go. No, damn it, he's not here to fight.

"You don't want to hear this! I don't think there's a single answer you'd trust out of me but whatever's the cruelest thing I could think of to say—no matter what the truth is." Wasn't that the point of this exercise? To get around the limitation of words, the fact that Sir Pentious couldn't trust and Alastor couldn't be trusted?

So much for that. Hadn't Alastor already known there were no such thing as second chances? Let him be torn apart, it would heal in a few days and he'd learn an important lesson.

Sir Pentious

"CAN YOU BLAME ME!?"

Pentious' voice cracks as he speaks, and he eyes where he'd bit him. He had to think of Valera's words... He seems lonely. She'd compared the two, made them sound so similar... Could trusting him really be a good idea?

... He really did enjoy that visit they had together, eating pasta bolognese and drinking brandy. It had been so... familiar. Pentious frowned, frustration and... distress pulling at every part of himself. His claws flexed, but he pulled them away from Alastor's neck... and he looked down, pulling at his hood like he were considering covering his face with them.

Alastor

"No! I can't!" His voice is thick, a feedback echo whining under his words. "You have EVERY REASON not to trust me! I'd sooner ask Saint Peter for a second chance than ask you." He flings a hand carelessly in the vague direction of Heaven.

And yet, for a moment he'd been stupid and let himself hope. He had to remind himself who he was here to help. "I'm not ASKING for a second chance. Just—don't fight me. And I won't have to fight you."

He feels colder without Sir Pentious within touching distance. He crosses his arms tightly, biting one corner of his mouth to make sure his smile is still up.

Sir Pentious

It stings.

Pentious knows how he's being difficult. His hands open and close, and he grits his teeth, eyes closed tightly. He wishes he could just... move past this and immediately either be fully friends or fully enemies. This was purgatory like no other.

Agreeing to anything felt like giving up and the snake wasn't good at that either.

He glares at Alastor, "DON'T GO ANYWHERE. LET ME THINK."

Alastor

What is there to think about? How hard is it to decide whether or not to keep starting one-sided fights with someone?

But he collects himself. He takes a deep breath, uncrosses his arms, smooths out his bangs, clasps his hands behind his back, corrects his posture, fixes his smile properly back in place, and tries to look past Sir Pentious's visible turmoil and at the garden. Lightly, he says, "I'm not leaving," and immediately regrets as he realizes how easily he could have followed it up with this time.

Sir Pentious

Sometimes he wants to just... grab him by the face and force that smile OFF. But he'll calm himself...

He can't have him as a rival, or as a nemesis. Their paths were too different, and not only that, they were from entirely different Hells!

So close, yet.... Pentious took a deep breath. You're not losing anything, man. You're not. Why was this so hard?

His gaze travels back to the bite, and he flicks his tongue.

"... WHEN WASS THE LASST TIME YOU ALLOWED YOURSSSELF TO BE ATTACKED LIKE THAT?"

Alastor

He blinks, taken aback by the question—and then has to stop and think.

He's always had an unusually casual relationship with pain—and that only increased after he died and no longer had to worry about any damage being permanent. Hell, he's voluntarily been skinned alive so that he could get his own hide tanned—but that wasn't being attacked, that was more like an extreme cosmetic surgery. He's let people who would otherwise never leave a scratch on him get in a stab wound—but that was so he could lure them in close enough to rip them apart. As a child he'd sometimes been too afraid to fight back—but that's very different from consenting to being attacked, isn't it?

"Never."

Will Sir Pentious even believe that? Probably not. Of course not. Alastor wonders why he bothered to ask.

Sir Pentious

He looks at him a long time... studying his expression. Looking for something to pick apart... but it was always that same damn face.

The hum of radio feedback if he stared too long.

Alastor

There isn't much to pick apart. He meets Sir Pentious's gaze when he feels that sharp stare on him, then almost immediately looks away.

He wants to ask whether he ought to be contributing something to the proceedings or if this thinking Sir Pentious is doing is still a solo endeavor, but he forces himself to swallow his nervous chatter and quietly start playing "Snake Eyes" again to fill the silence.

Sir Pentious

The tune is so jaunty, and Pentious twitches... but this was exactly like Alastor, too. You couldn't have a moment's silence with him... The snake groaned, covering his face. Alright. Alright.

".... ALASTOR."

Alastor

The music snaps off. "Sir Pentious?"

Sir Pentious

... You know, it was. Definitely surprising not to hear "Sir Harold". It takes him a moment.

He takes out a GUN, and aims it at Alastor.

"TELL ME AGAIN WHAT YOU WANT OUT OF THISS, AND I WILL NOT QUESSTION IT AGAIN. YOU HAVE MY WORD ON THE MATTER. DO YOU WANT TO BE MY ... FRIEND? OR DO YOU JUST WANT ME OUT OF YOUR HAIR?"

Alastor

Oh—oh, good god, he hadn't planned on being asked directly. (Or with a gun. But the gun was meaningless, the gun was for emphasis. The gun was an exclamation point.)

Being honest had been the biggest mistake of this conversation so far. The closer Alastor got to telling the truth, the less trustworthy he sounded, the less Sir Pentious was going to take what he said into account. The safe answer was "out of my hair." It was the answer that would make sure Sir Pentious was...

... gone, again. Gone and safe.

But, unless Alastor was completely wrong about everything he thought he knew about this Sir Pentious—

—it sounded like he was, impossibly, offering Alastor a second chance.

He croaked, "Friend."

And then, with the dam broken, more tumbled out: "I give you my word that's not what I came to ask for. I'm only here to try to get myself out of YOUR h—hood. But if— What I want— That's what I WANT."

Sir Pentious

Well, he was damned. Valera was right.

This Alastor, much like himself, was a lonely old man. He wanted to be his friend. The snake could only stare, his arm lowering, and with it the pistol too.

"... Really?" This wasn't a voice of accusation or vitriol, or demanding anything. Just, outright, innocent confusion.

Alastor

Alastor had been half expecting a bullet through his pretty new rose-shaped pin. He HADN'T been expecting that look. Perplexingly, it looked like a sort of expression that suggested that Sir Pentious might actually believe him.

A wild panicked voice in the back of his head tried to tell him to yell JUST KIDDING, drop Sir Pentious through a particularly painful portal, and bolt from the scene like a buck out of Hell.

It was the same panicked voice that had gotten him into this mess fifty-fucking-four years ago. He wasn't going to listen to it again.

He looked for something snappy to say, couldn't find anything, and said, "Yes. Really."

Sir Pentious

VALERA WAS RIGHT AAAAAHe put the weapon away, straightening his Alastor's bowtie, and gave a smile... although it was strained. Struggling. "... YOU REALLY ARE FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION, YOU KNOW. THISS COULD NEVER BE MY REALITY."

Alastor

Bow tie. Right, he should—Alastor straightened his collar back into place and retied his now slightly bloodstained bow. "Nor mine," he muttered, his smile sinking toward a grimace. He could have said the exact same words to his own Sir Pentious—but those words NEVER would have been trusted by someone who knew exactly what he'd done when he left. The only reason he'd gotten this far was because that not-knowing meant he could get the benefit of the doubt.

What could he do, then, but milk it for all it was worth as long as he could?

"I can't do anything about my duplicate in your universe. But any time you care to come to mine... well." Well. Friends.

Sir Pentious

Oh, damn. There was that warm feeling in his chest--it felt like he had internal bleeding. It ached and stung, and Pentious clutched his suit some to try to soothe the pain.

He was too expressive for his own food, clearing his throat.

"DON'T SSOUND LIKE YOU'RE ABOUT TO TAKE YOUR LEAVE, ALASTOR. I TOLD YOU TO TAKE THE DAY OFF, AND YOU'RE GOING TO!"

Alastor

"Am I!" His face lit up. "Why? Are we finally going to get to thar part you promised where I'm crying like a baby from pain?"

Sir Pentious

"WHY DO YOU SSOUND SSO EXCITED?"

"YOU WANT THAT?"

Alastor

"Well, you were so graphic about it, you got my hopes up! I set aside the rest of the week to recover and everything." He paused just long enough to get Sir Pentious time to process that. "KIDDING! No, what did you have planned?"

Sir Pentious

.......... NOW HE'S ADVANCING ON ALASTOR, hood raised and eyes glowing red. That menacing long grin.

"OH, NO, ALASTOR, YOU WERE SSSSO EXCITED. I INSSSISSST!"

Alastor

For a moment, he stares at Sir Pentious, eyes wide. Somewhere beneath his usual static, S.O.S. beeps in Morse.

Then he flatly asks, "Do we have to?" But he's reaching for his bow tie again. One final test would be fair, wouldn't it? Alastor deserves at least that much.

Sir Pentious

Oh no. He looks conflicted!!! This man just told him he wanted to be friends!

",,, ALASTOR! YOU CAME HERE WANTING TO BE BITTEN AND POISONED AND NOW YOU DON'T WANT IT BUT ALSO DO?? BE CLEAR, BE CONSISE!!

Alastor

"I was joking about the poison part!" No more masochistic humor in THIS universe. "It sounds a little bit extreme for my idea of a fun afternoon. I was willing to do it to prove my, ah... sentiments—but if we're PAST that, I'd just as happily move on to something less excruciating."

Sir Pentious

He HUFFS. His fangs ache, wanting to bite into something again, but also... He looks strained.

".... SS... SSSSINCE YOU'RE HERE.... DO YOU WANT TO... COME INSIDE???"

Alastor

Is Sir Pentious disappointed? Alastor eyes him carefully a moment, then says, "Sure." After another pause, even more carefully, he asks, "Are you opposed to letting me see what you've been up to in that boiler room of yours?"

Sir Pentious

Little does Alastor know, Penny is suffering from a dizziness spell. It was a side effect of using his fangs like that, even if he didn't use his venom. He had a lot of physicality issues.

Pentious slithered towards the front entrance, "AH, MY RAIL GUN? SURE, AS LONG AS YOU DON'T THINK YOU CAN TAKE IT FROM ME."

Alastor

"Wouldn't dream of it!" Rail gun! Alastor followed after Sir Pentious, just short of skipping in delight. "What would I do with it, anyway—try to carry it around on my shoulder like a bazooka? Ha! No, no—I just want to see what kind of damage it can do."

Then they went inside to play with dangerous toys, the end.

#hissandvinegar #chat log #((anybody who followed my RP blog randomly rather than through my main fic blog is prrrobably gonna be surprised lmfao))#((SURPRISE guess what we ship around here))#((for those of y'all who DID follow me from my main fic blog: look it's like it's an AU post CDIH redemption arc speedrun))

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yanara126-writing · 3 years

Text

The Adventures of Hildraed Dawnsbane - Watching and Fucking Morals (4/?)

Farmer, Pirate, Menace, Captain, Dawnsbane. Hildraed has many titles, she really could have lived well without Watcher.

Read here or on Ao3. (1827 words)

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

I recommend listening to this song, as it was the inspiration for the fever trip that made me wright this. It’s really good, I promise.^^

Hildraed was mad. And she hated this town. Why was she even still here? Because fucking damnit she felt bad for these people. It had started with the damn cook, continued with the poor abused woman (had the fucker not been dead she’d have killed him herself) And then there was the blacksmith who’d promised her a discount, Aufra with her probably soulless baby (not that she’d told her that), and then the goddamn farmers. Because it always came down to farmers, didn’t it? And now she was slouching back in the inn, nursing some bad ale. And the stupid hunk was smiling at her. Fuck him. Eh, maybe later.

Aloth was far better to focus on, with his companionable grouchiness.

With a more desperate than enthusiastic swing she drained her cup and it slammed it down again, trying to pretend the ale wasn’t more water than alcohol.

“I hate this place.” Edér’s stupid grin only got wider. Hildraed glared some more at the cup. She wasn’t drunk enough for this.

“Does that mean we can finally leave?” Hildraed didn’t miss the desperation in Aloth’s tone and almost felt bad for him. Only almost though, she felt way worse for herself.

“Yeah. Yeah we can. In fact, we will right now.” Originally she’d intended to stay one more night and leave in the morning, but if she had to continue seeing Edér’s stupid, satisfied smirk she was going to punch him after all. She slammed a few coins on the table, not bothering with counting out the exact amount, grabbed her bag and stomped out the door. Behind her she could hear her new companions scrambling to finish their own drinks and hurry after her.

Outside she had mercy on them and waited a bit for them to catch up, grinning again at Aloth’s relieved sigh. It was too easy to play him. She’d have to teach him a bit to avoid having him be all to easy to manipulate.

Edér apparently wasn’t in quite as much of a hurry, and while waiting for his heavy footsteps to join them, Hildraed found her attention wandering through the miserable town. And of course, her gaze once again landed on the tree. Ever since her first meeting with the dwarf woman she drifted back to the fucking tree. There were no more souls left there, she’d checked far more than she would ever admit, and still her steps kept pulling her back there. And so now again.

The stench was in her nose before she was even aware what she was doing. Dangling, rotting limbs filled her vision as she stared up, wood and flesh melting together. All around her there were purple shimmers, whisperings that drover her mad all around the clock, but looking up there there was nothing, and somehow that was worse. She’d seen hangings before of course. She’d seen people she’d known and even liked hang much the same way. But something about this made her angrier.

This was messy. This wasn’t justice, it was a blood rage. The pirates she’d seen hung had known the risks. Perhaps they hadn’t deserved it either, some had been good people, some had absolutely asked for it, but all of them known. These people up in the tree had just lived, had perhaps never broken a law in their lives, had been punished for suffering a tragedy.

A hand landed on her shoulder and Hildraed flinched, cursing herself for losing focus. That was dangerous at the best of times, which this was not. Just this time the universe seemed to forgive her mistake though, and Edér stood next to her, chewing on his pipe. He didn’t say anything, only stood there, looking up as well, his rough hand, marred much like her own, on her shoulder.

Hildraed didn’t know what triggered it, maybe it was the sleep deprivation, maybe the weight of the last few days were finally drowning her, maybe it was that thrice-damned look of defeat in his eyes, but something in her mind clicked into place and she knew what she still had to do here. It was a terrible idea, would bare way too much to these people she barely knew, but she had to nonetheless.

“You know what my favourite song is? T’s about a boat.” Edér glanced at her, surprised and confused, but still amused.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting sentimental now? I thought you don’t do empathy?”

“Shut up, I’m drunk.” No she wasn’t, she hadn’t drunk enough of the water ale for that, but he didn’t need to know that.

“No, you’re not.” Well so much for her reputation then. She narrowed her eyes at him, glaring with all the intensity she could muster through all the aches of her body and constant buzz of soul fizzles pressing against her new senses.

“You. I don’t like you.” That didn’t seem to intimidate him at all, if anything he just got softer. Hildraed sighed and looked away again. What crew had she gotten herself here? One who was easier to play than a fiddle but had a wrong string and one who already laughed at her. And still…

“My mom always sang it when we were down on our luck. It’s about a crew saving their boat after it already sank. It was the first chant I learnt. I’ve sung it every time the universe hated me especially.” It had carried her through her 35 years of life even when nothing else had. She’d shared it every time she’d sung it, just as she’d been taught. This one thing wasn’t something to keep to herself. She had no intention of sharing anything else, the secret of her past would die with her as far she was concerned, but this one thing she’d keep throwing into the world as often as necessary. And right now it was very necessary.

With another look at Edér, and not the fucking tree, she turned around and stalked out of the pit. Aloth was standing a bit away in the shadow of a wall, trying to keep himself out of the public eye. Hildraed sat down not far from him at the edge of the pit and pulled her old lute from her back. She gave it a loving pat, before starting to pluck the strings in a familiar tune. Behind she could hear Aloth shift a little closer, in front of her could see Edér settling down next to her, but she ignored both of them.

“She went down last mid-winter in a pouring driving rain…” It had been a while since she’d last played it, and the familiar notes rang something deep in her, tugging at places within herself that she didn’t have a name for before.

“There were just us five aboard her when she finally was awash

We'd worked like hell to save her, all heedless of the cost…” It had taken her own boat to really understand it. In her youth it had been a nice story, and good tune with an inspirational message. Now as an adult it meant so much more. Her fingers danced over the strings with more elegance than she’d been able to work up in weeks, her foot tapped the rhythm, her body swayed with waves that weren’t there, her mouth formed the words that had accompanied her for so long.

“But we talked of her all winter, some days around the clock,

For she's worth a quarter million, just floatin’ at the dock

And with every jar that hit the bar, we swore we would remain…” Another foot joined in the rhythm, but Hildraed didn’t look up. Chanting was always exhilarating, but this was special in another way. She felt the words reverberate around her, felt souls stirring as the story continued to follow the melody. There was a clarity that had never been there before, an awareness that had nothing and everything to do with this song so dear to her. More souls were drawn closer, and it felt like drowning in life.

“All spring, now, we've been with her on a barge lent by a friend

Three dives a day in hard hat suit and twice I've had the bends

Thank God it's only sixty feet and the currents here are slow

Or I'd never have the strength to go below

But we've patched her rents, stopped her vents, dogged hatch and porthole down

Put cables to her, 'fore and aft and girded her around

Tomorrow, noon, we hit the air and then take up the strain…” There were people all around now, and somewhere the logical part of Hildraed knew she needed to be careful, to be aware of everyone around her, to not let herself be caught off-guard again. Unfortunately, that part was buried deep under the emotions and sensations flooding everything else. At this point she wasn’t sure what was hers anymore, she just kept playing and singing, surrounded by more whispers than ever. Whispers of pasts, of uncertain futures.

“And you, to whom adversity has dealt a mortal blow

With smiling bastards lying to you everywhere you go

Turn to, and put out all your strength of arm and heart and brain

And like the Mary Ellyn Carter, rise again!

Rise again, rise again; though your heart it be broken

And life about to end

No matter what you've lost, be it a home, a love, a friend

Like the Mary Ellyn Carter, rise again!”

She played the final cord, sung the final tune, and her fingers and tongue stilled. The whispers were still there, ringing loudly in her ears and rising to a crescendo, making her head hurt even more- Wait, no, that was clapping. A few hands clapping around her, and Hildraed finally looked up, eyes a little bit clearer now. It wasn’t as many people as she’d thought, a few guests from the inn, a few people from the surrounding houses. And Hildraed stared.

It wasn’t so much that she minded the audience, quite the opposite really, she’d always enjoyed hogging people’s attention. But that had been before this stupid shit. Before she’d started noticing way too fucking much, while losing focus of everything else.

But then, as it always was, it didn’t take too long for the people to notice that the show was over, and they dispersed again, throwing strange looks in her direction that she didn’t bother to notice. She’d be gone now anyway, let them think what they want.

In the end only two were left, one on each side, though when Aloth moved next to her she couldn’t say. Her head still hurt, she was confused more than ever, and she still hated this place, and yet she felt a little lighter now. The tree was still there, and it was still abominable, but maybe now she could finally stop looking at it.

And maybe now they could finally fuck off.

#Pillars of Eternity #writing #Watcher Hildraed #Edér Teylecg #Aloth Corfiser #fanfiction #singing #the mary ellen carter #derina harvey band #'t's a good song

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paradigmsofbrittaperry · 3 years

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I just looked at your Spotify, first for the Jeffbritta then for your immaculate music taste ........ but sweetheart. GODDESS. What the hell mental illness made you listen to the Russian National Anthem that many times

FSHDKDLD god okay this one’s A Story, and there’s a much more concise way to tell it, but I’ve never been a concise person. jump under the read more if you dare.

sooooo it all started in a Wal-Mart parking lot after going to a high school football game with some of my friends. we had gone in to get a box of cupcakes and somehow emerged with a jar of pickles, a bag of peanut M&M’s, and a bag of Twix bars. as we were walking out of the Wal-Mart with our spoils, a bunch of guys our age ran by us and pushed us out of the way, screaming and running all the way to the edge of the parking lot. they were followed by Wal-Mart security, and we figured out the next day that they were members of our school’s lacrosse team and they were running because they had stolen goods from this Wal-Mart. so my friends and I start walking away from the exit like “oh boy, that was wild” only to be stopped by a woman who asked us if we wanted one of heaven’s brownies. we did not, so we swiftly moved along, clutching our pickles and candy a little bit tighter.

there were six of us, so we’d taken two cars (and really, we’d come in groups of three anyway and met up on accident), but decided to go back to one person’s car to eat before splitting up and going our separate ways. so four of us found a way to squeeze into the backseat of this not-very-large vehicle and cracked open the pickles. the driver was in control of the music, and at first, he put on a few songs from Hamilton because I guess he was just that late to the trend. I was minding my own business, eating a Twix bar and vibing while being crushed between two of my friends when suddenly, everything changed.

there was a swell of orchestral music. we all looked at the driver in complete and utter confusion as the singers came in, singing in a language we did not know. he looks away, and the rest of us begin to laugh, as we’re very lucid at this point because it’s almost 11:30pm and this wasn’t our first adventure of the night (the first involved sneaking past the other school’s administration to get to the home side bleachers by cutting across the football field itself, we’re such rebels ik).

eventually, someone (probably me tbh) manages to ask;

“what is this?”

the driver keeps looking down, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

“it’s the Russian National Anthem.”

“the WHAT?”

“the Russian National Anthem.”

he went on to explain that his older brother has a playlist of meme songs that he shared with everyone, and for some entirely unknown reason, this was on the list, and he’d taken a liking to it. whatever, we thought. in all honesty? it kinda slaps. maybe a little more than Hamilton does.

fast forward to about a week later. one of my friends from that group has been my friend since childhood, and lives about five minutes away from me. as such, she would often drive me home after band practice if it was a day when my dad wasn’t helping out with practice.

she usually gave me the aux, trusting me to queue a few things on Spotify for our 20 minute drive. at that point, it was typically lots of Hayley Kiyoko, lots of P!atd, and a fair amount of girl in red, because we were both gay and didn’t develop a music taste until very recently. there was also a specific Sam Smith song that we always listened to (How Do You Sleep) because of a specific incident from that year of band that honestly, I may go into at a later date.

that night, I look at the Spotify search bar and think “wouldn’t it be funny if I threw the Russian National Anthem in there? just to mess with her and call back to the night of that football game? man, that was a fun night. let’s do it.”

so I queue said anthem to come on after How Do You Sleep.

we poorly sing along with Sam Smith, laughing and joking all the way. the song starts to fade out, we settle down. we’re both waiting for the next song to come on. I’m barely holding it together, trying so hard not to blow my cover and laugh that tears are streaming down my face.

the drum roll. the sweeping instrumentals.

now, I feel like I’ve already provided a gratuitous amount of context, but you must know that this particular band season had been absolute shit. our beloved band director had gotten a job at another school, and we had been left behind to lead a band under the direction of a much more incompetent one. we were stressed all the time, younger kids were turning their backs on us in a desperate attempt to defend this guy since they had to live with him for longer, we’d been losing friends and struggling and breaking down on a daily basis for probably somewhere around two months at that point. every inside joke and moment of levity and scrap of joy was clung to like a life raft, because we were watching the thing we’d loved for three whole years be destroyed right before our eyes. on top of that, we were being blamed for the destruction despite only being 17 years old, only able to cause so much change.

the singers come in. my friend realizes what I’ve done. she starts laughing. I let myself laugh out loud now, head banging and bopping along with the song. tears are streaming down her face now, too, they keep streaming down mine. we can’t find the line between tears of sorrow and tears of overwhelming joy. is there one? or are both emotions one in the same?

so then, like with How Do You Sleep, it became a tradition to play it on every car ride home from band practice. I’d slip it somewhere into the queue while driving or she’d set it before getting into the car so that she could surprise me. it became our thing, that no matter what had happened that day or who had yelled at us or what ridiculous responsibilities we’d had to take on, we had something to look forward to and rely on. we had the motherfucking Russian National Anthem.

I bet you didn’t expect there to be a moral to this story, but oh boy, is there ever one. you have find joy wherever you can. even if it’s stupid. even if it doesn’t make sense or you don’t understand why it makes you so happy. even if it’s playing a national anthem that, quite frankly, shouldn’t go as hard as it does.

#anon i'm so sorry that this turned into an excerpt from my nonexistent memoir #bri speaks #ask box

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theokotrain · 3 years

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Vestige - Chapter 3: Someone Else Will See It For Yourself

Wattpad Version

In the middle of the vortex, the wind picked up

Shook up the soot, from the chimney pot

Into spiral patterns, of you, my love

---

Who said that?

It sounded distant, but I could almost tell it was meant for me. I shut the door as fast as I can manage, locking it behind me. Turning around, I glance further into the cabin.

"Shaela? You here?" I lightly shouted, hoping she would just be in her room or something. No response.

I moved to the backdoor, looking out the window to see if she was waiting in the backyard. The trees and bushes are noticeably rustling from the wind. The door to the generator seemed to be open, but I had absolutely zero interest in checking that out, let alone going outside. I reach for my pocket, aiming to grab my phone so I can call her, only to find out it isn't there.

Shit, right, I left it with Liam.

I open the backdoor a crack, sticking my body half out the door, "Shaela! Where the fuck did you go?"

The eerie silence of the wind is all that returned, leaving me spooked, to say the least. I close the back door, choosing to head back out front. As much as I wanted to hide inside the cabin for the rest of this bullshit, I couldn't just leave Shae and Liam out there. I step outside, closing the front door behind me as softly as I can manage. As the door shuts, I feel an unnerving amount of pressure building up in my ears and softening the sounds around me. I step down the creaky wooden steps, heading back down the driveway.

"I swear to god Shae if this is you just trying to scare me..." I huff, looking through the nearby trees, "...It's fucking working. Now cut the shit!" I know that situation is unlikely, but it's definitely the preferred outcome out of all the scenarios my anxiety-ridden brain is currently playing out.

Maybe she called Liam again and met him at the lake because I was taking too long? I definitely would've heard her on my way up to the cabin if that were true, though. Any reasoning at this point is useless anyway, it's easiest for me to just head back to Liam, then I could at least have my phone and call Shae to see where the hell she went.

The fog seems to be a bit clearer near the highway, which instills at least a minor amount of confidence in me. I cross the asphalt road as fast as I can, trying to hear for any cars that might come barrelling down the limited-visibility highway. I start walking down the trail towards the lake, each step filled with the determination to get the fuck out of this forest, and at least back with Liam. My ears twitch at every minor sound that fills the nearby area, the whistling of the wind, the rustling of the flora, the skittering of the local wildlife. I can't help but feel watched, despite the minimal evidence I have backing up that fear. Well, with the exception of whoever the fuck was talking to me a few minutes ago.

Did I really just skip over that major detail? Someone was talking to me, but I didn't see anybody around. Am I going insane? It could have just been the wind, the voice lacked the substance of someone actually talking. The problem with that, though, is that the wind doesn't typically sound out actual fucking words. Whatever, any of these ideas are just my anxious thought-process trying to make sense of the information it's been taking in.

When I reach the clearing by the lake, I can barely see out into the water. It was typical for it to get foggy by the lake during the spring or fall, because the warming temperatures didn't collide well with the cold air and freezing lake, although rarely to this extent. That doesn't matter now though, the important detail that hadn't registered in my mind yet is that Liam is nowhere to be found. The blanket, along with the rest of the stuff I brought is still lying exactly where I left it. I look around the clearing..

"Liam?" I shouted, hoping he was close by.

Someone has to be fucking with me at this point. Did he go up to the cabin? Maybe he saw the fog and decided to head back? Obviously not, cause I would've at least heard him! I try not to expect the worst, but it feels almost impossible not to at this point.

The jarring sound of my ringtone brings me back to reality. The vibrations of the phone are quieted by the blanket it lays upon. I pick it up, looking to see the Caller ID.

Tyler?

I answer the call, still trying to figure out what's going on, "What is it?" I said, a noticeable irritation in my voice from the situation.

"why did you wake me?" He replied. His voice sounded almost hollow, like a memory.

"Wake you? Dude, you called me? Just tell me what you want cause I'm kindaaa busy right now!" I said hurriedly, trying not to come off as rude.

"i wanted so much to be at rest."

"Wha- then go to back to bed?!? I don't see why you had to call for this, dude. Besides, it's like one in the afternoon? Shouldn't you be working right now?" I remarked, eager for him to get to the point.

There's a long pause between us, I didn't count the time, but it was long enough to be noticeable, and for me to quickly get impatient.

"it's different now, i think"

...

"What is? Just- can you stop speaking like you're reading poetry and say something actually coherent?"

There's an even longer moment of silence, he doesn't seem interested in answering my questions.

I sigh deeply, sitting down on the blanket that was left behind, my face in my palm. "What's different now?" I said bluntly.

"somewhere i lost whatever else i had"

"What, are you writing music now? Testing your lyrics out on me? Very poetic. But this is not the ti-"

"i wasn't over you"

That does a pretty good job of shutting me up. I bury my face further into my palm, trying to escape whatever bullshit I've gotten myself into as the wind picks up around me.

"...Yeah. I know." I admit. I could tell whatever explanations he came up with last night were pretty clearly a façade, but for him to admit it like this? None of it seemed real. "Is that why you called? ...I'm sorry, Tyler. You're a great guy, better than you care to admit. B- but I'm happy now. I hope you can get to that point soon, too."

"there's so much travel yet, jake."

I take a moment to process his words, when I hear the sound of leaves crunching distantly behind me. I jerk my head towards the sound of the noise, hoping to see Shae and Liam coming to find me, to no avail. It feels like there's thousands of eyes on me all at once as I try to ignore my surroundings.

"I- I know." I say, not really wanting to continue my thought process. "You know, some part of me wishes it went differently... back then." I can feel the wind getting stronger as I continue.

"who would you be now?"

"...someone better, probably. At least I'd have things figured out," I sighed. "Everything's been so uncertain lately, I don't know what my life's gonna look like in a few months, let alone when I'm older."

"don't worry, someone else will see it for yourself."

"Wh- what do you mean?"

The wind quickly dies down, and the only sound remaining is the tone coming from the phone, signalling the connection was lost.

What the fuck just happened?

I go back to my phone, dialling Ty's number once again. The phone rings a few times before he finally answers.

"Hey! Whaddya need? You kinda caught me at a bad time, it's pretty busy right now at work." He replied sincerely, his voice noticeably different from moments ago.

"Oh, uh, sorry! Did you just call me?"

"Call you? Uhh, I don't think so? Unless I butt-dialed you or something?"

"Ah, robocaller must've spoofed your number or something." I didn't have any way to rationally explain the previous events without sounding crazy, so I opted to stay casual, repressing the thoughts back to where they came from. "So, you're able to come tonight, right?" I said, trying to shift the topic.

"Yeah I should be able to if they don't make me stay late again! You need me to bring anything over?" He inquired.

"Uhh, I'll get back to you about that in a bit. I am currently at the lake near the cabin and have no clue where Shae and Liam are." I exclaimed in a sarcastically perky voice.

"...What?"

"I- It's probably fine, they're adults, they're probably fine. I'm just paranoid." I said, lightly laughing to lighten the mood.

"Oh, well, let me know if you find 'em! I'll try to keep my phone on me." He assured.

"Yeah, will do!" My eyes widen, and I let out a sigh, "God, I'm just bothering you at this point. I give you permission to go back to work now!" I joked.

"Nah, you're good! I like talking to you." He said, I could almost hear the smile in his voice.

I laughed a tired laugh, "Yeah. You too." A moment passed as neither of us spoke up, "Well, I should probably at least try calling them."

"You haven't tried calling them yet??? Remind me to never let you lead the search party if I go missing," He joked.

"Yeah, like I'd even be considered for leading any search party," I remarked sarcastically. The both of us laughed. "I'll let you know if we need anything, I should get going." "Sounds good!"

We said our goodbyes and I hung up, my mind returning to focus on the lake. I gathered the blanket and anything else Liam left behind and started walking back up the trail. The wind had reduced to subtlety at this point, but the fog was still in full force. I said to Ty that I would call them, but I needed a few more minutes of uncertainty. Any of the fears that occupied my mind earlier were long dissipated as I thought over some problematic dilemmas.

If Ty didn't call me, then who was I talking to?

It sounded just like him, minus the usual substance of his low-toned voice. And unless he was lying to me when he said he didn't call me the first time, then maybe I'm just losing whatever remnants of sanity that I had before today.

Honestly, what's even the point of me rationalizing this? What would I even tell people? That I heard a voice talking to me, but no one was there? That Liam and Shae essentially vanished off the face of the Earth? That I got a phone call by the water from my ex, speaking incoherent poetry, admitting that he wasn't over me?

I cross the highway.

Yeah, there's no combination of words in any language that I could piece together to explain that without losing the respect of everyone around me. I'm sure I could at least get an explanation from Liam and Shae about wherever they ran off to.

I step up the stairs onto the front patio of the cabin.

Whatever, this is just some anomalous twenty minutes of my life that I'll probably forget in a week or two. The simplest solution is to just move on, there's a lot of time left on this trip for me to not have to deal with shit.

I try the door knob, finding it unlocked. The door creaks as I open it, peering inside.

"Fucking hell, where were you?!?"

#Vestige #Story #Novel #Chapter #Three #3 #chapter #novella #furry #gay #lgbt #mystery #coming of age #wattpad #fiction

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