#First whole fic let's go!!!

[dragonloreranger]

@kikker-oma I know I have that other fic I need to be working on I promise I am but this suddenly possessed me-

(Tw: blood, choking, late whumptober feels, someone getting stabbed)

(Edit: I feel like it's a bit rough, is it a bit rough? Sorry I'll probably rewrite it soon idk it was just one of those things I had to write down lol.)

The true battle was far from over.

Warriors stumbled upright, pain spiking through his chest.

He let out a wheezing cough, blood spattering out of his mouth.

Well that wasn't good....

His whole body was in agony and felt heavy with every step his shaky legs took.

He needed to lie down, to take a potion, a fairy, anything. He could feel the effects of blood loss already taking its course.

But Warriors had bigger things to deal with.

Broken bodies of black-blooded bokoblins covered the warzone, all of them brutally mauled and killed.

Warriors hadn't expected to have to fight off as many bokoblins as he did. No one did. He, Twilight and Time left the others to go patrol the new Era they had been transported to just a day before.

No one had prepared for a giant and brutal battle.

Warriors had been cornered by sevreal of the monsters withen minutes, the beasts sudden appearance over powering him.

Twlight had been barly conscious as the bokoblins started to circle the young man.

It looked like it was the end.

But Time wouldn't let that happen, no matter how much Warriors begged him not to.

The Ferice Deity's back lay facing Warriors, the God staring at its last victum with its glowing white orbs.

Twilight stirred somewhere a few feet away, but the deity didn't move.

He just clutched his bloodied claymore tighter.

"Time...." Warriors voice trembled as he called out, but he straightened his back, taking a few steps closer towards his friend.

"Time, it's over. You did it. You won, Time-"

But it wasn't Time anymore.

Slowly, the Ferice Deity turned to face Warriors, his marked face dotted with drops of scarlet blood (Time's blood?)

The deity's pure white hair blew in the wind slightly, flicking over his eeiry, expressionless gaze.

The only thing Warriors could hear, was his own shaky breath and the flapibg of his cap in the wind.

The Deity just stared, saying nor doing anything.

"Time...?"

"You told him no."

The Ferice Deity's voice was low and clear, commanding and powerful as a god's voice should be.

Warriors could just barley hear Time's voice underneath the Deity's, quite and emotionless.

"I am the only chance you had of surviving this battle, and yet you told him not to use me."

Suspicion pricked Warriors neck.

He scrambled for words.

"It, it hurts him when he puts on the mask!" He tried as the Deity took a menacing step forward.

"It's hard, hard on him to use you!"

But the Deity wasn't listening.

"Only traitors or enemies would tell someone that, and I am supposed to kill traitors and enemies. That is what I'll do."

No....He wouldn't

Warriors tried to take a step back but he slipped in black blood, and his beaten body lacked the energy to get up fast enough.

A large hand gripped his neck, squeezing with an uncomfortable pressure as Warriors was lifted from the ground.

"Please-! Time..." Warriors begged, starting to choke as the intensity of the hold increased.

Time had to fight it. He had done it before and he could do it again.

"Come back-" He struggled for breath, his feeble kicks growing weaker. He took in a strained gasp.

"-back to us..."

It was then that Warriors noticed the single, silver tear running down Ferice's cheek, something flickering in his eyes.

He was trying to fight it.

"This isn't you old man...."

The hand squeezed tighter, and darkness dotted Warriors vision.

It wasn't working.

Warriors felt terrible. He wished he could tell Time this wasn't his fault. That Warriors was happy to had fought alongside him.

But he couldn't.

Warriors was about to fade when an agonized roar ripped through Time's lips. Twilight had cut his sword across Time's calf, eyes desperate and pained.

The grip loosened, and was quickly as possible, Warriors grabbed the sides of Time's face and ripped the mask off.

The two crumpled to the floor. With whatever strength he had, Warriors was able to half catch half slow Time's fall. Twilight pulled them both upright, his mentors head resting limply on his lap.

Twilight handed Warriors a red bottle as he studied Time. "Drink it. Now." He instructed, sounding dead seroiuse. "Did you have one first-" Warriors tried to ask, but he was met with Twilights eyes, so he reluctantly drank the potion, which his body met with open arms.

Strength returning, Warriors crawled closer towards Time, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. "Time?"

The old man stirred, groaning softly, and opened his eye slowly. Almost as soon as he saw Warriors sitting over him, tears started to whell. "I'm so sorry...." he croaked softly. "I'm so, so sorry. I, I almost killed you..."

Time's voice broke, going into quiet hiccups of sobs. Warriors pulled him into a hug, burying his face in his shoulder. Twilight went behind his mentor and put a hand on his back.

Time looked behind him and suddenly pulled Twilight into the hug, squeezing him fericly.

"Your the reason Wars is alive, pup." Time whispered as Twilights eyes widened. "I'm so sorry that I did that to the both of you....I could never forgive myself if it ended differently....:

Warriors hugged his two brothers closer. "It wasn't your fault...." he soothed.

He looked up to see the mask laying just a few feet away, nothing more then just wood now.

Warriors felt anger boil inside him. He would never let that cursed mask hurt his family again.

Ever.

But right now, Warriors was just happy to be alive, to be here, with his brothers.

HI FREN YOUR ART IS GORGEOUS! I’ve had an itchy idea and figured I’d give it to you if you were still taking art requests. I see all these fics where Time uses the Fierce Deity mask because it’s the only way but I’ve seen NO ART. The ANGST. The DRAMA. The POSSIBILITIES.

If you’re feeling up to it, maybe this with a concerned big bro Wars? I’m weak for that combination

Warning:Blood, Choking

.

.

.

[coalitiongirl]

Regina cuts her off, her stomach roiling. “You talk about me with Henry?” Emma shrugs. “You come up sometimes. He really does care about you. And I think you care about him.” “You think?” Regina demands, and her fists tighten. “You think?” Emma turns away from her, focuses on Henry on his swing. Regina follows suit, letting the sight of him calm her. He’s going higher and higher, and he kicks off his shoes when he’s at the top of the swing, sending them flying across the playground. It’s so normal, so much like a scene from a year ago, before everything had fallen apart. “I wasn’t sure,” she says. “I didn’t know if you…if you saw him as something to have. Or if you really loved him.” Regina seethes. Something in her chest withers and dies. She’s furious. She isn’t hurt, because she will never give Emma Swan the power to hurt her again. “This town still stands only because Henry is inside of it. And you think that I don’t love him?” Emma doesn’t respond to the threat, which had been stupid and will set Regina’s time with Henry back again, she’s sure. “You didn’t kiss him. When he was…after he ate that turnover. You didn’t even try to kiss him awake.” Regina had sat in the hospital room and wept, had felt the world falling apart around her, and no, she had not kissed Henry as Emma had. How arrogant it is, to believe that a kiss can work magic. How privileged it is for the laws of the world to break only for you. “I am no Charming,” she spits. “I don’t get beautiful fairytales, and I don’t expect them. Forgive me for being a realist.” Emma is silent. When Regina turns, Emma is watching her again, and there is a lingering something in her eyes. Not quite pity, not quite sorrow. But understanding, and Regina hates seeing it more than anything else. Hates the way that her heart leaps, and the next few breaths hitch and don’t emerge right.

[myokk]

before it felt like a sin, ch. 1

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 3000

summary: Eloise never wanted to be different.

And yet, her differences are what have defined her life up until this point: growing up as a squib in one of the most prominent wizarding families, being exiled to muggle society, and then attending Hogwarts at the age of sixteen.

She finds herself thrust into the life she should have been prepared for from birth but was denied. As she navigates this new life and her new precarious position in her family, she must come to terms with the fact that maybe what she dreamed of her whole life isn't turning out how she ever expected it would.

a/n: Hi everyone!! I decided to post this here too...I'm slowly going through everything I've written so far, and I want to post each chapter here as I edit them. I'm hoping that this can be a way to a) get back in to writing more, and b) get better at my art as I make full illustrations for each chapter. Let me know what you think!! :)

There is nothing quite as horrible as being a muggle, Eloise thought savagely as she ripped out yet another stitch in the landscape she was embroidering. At least, it was supposed to be a landscape. Maybe with her head tilted to the left and with her eyes almost closed so everything blurred together, it might resemble one. She did just that, trying her hardest to make out some recognizable shape and blast the stupid practice of manually pushing colored thread through a fabric in some sort of -

“And what is this, Miss Babbit?”

Eloise jumped at the sound and looked up at the scowling face of her teacher, and then quickly back down at the tangled thread in her lap. Behind her, she could hear the hushed giggles of the other girls in her class.

“Oh! Er…it’s -”

“How long have you been here?” the woman interrupted.

“One hour…I just -”

“Don’t be smart with me. I mean, at this institute.”

“Five years.” Eloise glared down at her embroidery as if it had personally offended her. It wasn’t like she was actively trying to be bad at everything, but she had the distinct disadvantage - how had it ever come to be that she would be at a disadvantage to muggles? - of not having spent a lifetime being prepared for muggle society and all that it entailed. The last five years had been a monotonous, endless cycle of lessons designed to turn her into the perfect lady: French (a waste of time as Eloise was already fluent), embroidery (a waste of time as the things she embroidered weren’t actually useful), dancing (a waste of time as she was already engaged to be married - why would she bother trying to woo another silly man?), and her most dreaded class of all: etiquette. No matter how many years had been spent trying to assimilate into muggle culture, her thoughts still got muddled when she tried to remember the steps to a dance, or how to properly address the son of a duke.

Did it really matter, anyways, what the other girls thought? She had pretended her whole life to be the daughter she thought her parents had wanted - now she was simply pretending that she hadn’t been thrown into the muggle world without a second thought. What was a bit more pretending - that she didn’t care? That she hadn’t been tossed aside without a second thought?

“Exactly. Five years. And yet, you have shown no progress whatsoever. This -” a finger jabbed accusingly at the embroidery - “is absolutely horrendous. If your parents hadn’t continued to make such a sizeable donation every year, I would have deemed you a lost cause and sent you packing when you first arrived. How your family ever managed your betrothal to the son of an earl is beyond me.”

Eloise grimaced at the mention of her fiance as her teacher clapped her hands together to get the attention of the class - a wholly unnecessary action due to the fact that it was already being given. “Class is dismissed. Please collect your belongings and put them in the correct place. Remember, as future wives and mothers, you must be organized in all aspects of your life. Many of you will be managing important households and the slightest misstep -“ a slight glance to Eloise out of the corner of her eye - “can cause the biggest of scandals.”

Eloise raced to gather her things and leave the classroom before everyone else. No matter how many years had been spent at the school, she couldn’t help but hate sitting through the classes amongst the judgmental stares and snide remarks. Although things had started out shaky at the finishing school - to be expected, really, when you’ve grown up in wizarding society and then are then forced to live as a muggle - it still stung that after all these years, she still hadn’t found a friendly face. She was treated as if she were a pariah: it was as if the other girls just knew that something was different about her. But…wasn’t that the great irony of it all? She wasn’t different than them. She was a filthy squib.

When she first arrived at the school, she was an anomaly. A twelve-year-old girl who didn’t know how to play the piano or who the queen was. It was clear to everyone that Eloise wasn’t the charity case of the school - her parents were obviously quite wealthy - and yet they seemingly wanted nothing to do with her. Whereas the others got regular letters and visits from their family, it was as if Eloise were an orphan. Nothing new to her of course, but to her peers this otherness aided them in her ostracization.

Upon entering her room, she was abruptly pulled out of her thoughts. Something wasn’t right. Everything seemed the same: a twin bed perfectly made opposite a small wardrobe, a plain wooden desk placed between them. The weak afternoon sunlight shone through the window, illuminating her desk. But…there.

That…

Placed on her bed, resting on the pillow, was a letter.

She never received letters.

Eloise shoved her embroidery under her bed and hungrily grabbed at it, pausing when she saw the address. Miss E. Babbit. The Third Bedroom on the Left… It seemed vaguely familiar to her in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

As she read the letter, though, it became apparent to her exactly why this was. Although not exactly the same as the one her brother had received six years earlier, it quickly became apparent that this was a Hogwarts letter. For her. For Miss E. Babbit.

Hands shaking, she set the letter down on her desk and sat on the edge of her bed. She smoothed her hands over her skirt over and over, taking comfort in the familiar softness as she tried to even her breathing.

How was this possible? She had all but accepted the fact that she was a squib. The shame of her family, a dirty secret to be hidden away and never talked about or mentioned again. Her parents had suspected as much by the time she had turned seven without any signs of magic whatsoever manifesting around her - not even a basic transformation of brussel sprouts to sweets during dinner. It was ultimately confirmed, however, when her own Hogwarts acceptance letter never arrived. She had spent the whole year before her banishment daydreaming about her life at Hogwarts, still optimistic that there could be something magical inside of her. Her brother, Leo, came home every holiday with wonderful stories of his new friends and teachers, and the subjects he was learning at school. Even back then, at twelve years old, Eloise hadn’t been sure if he was actually hopeful she wasn’t a squib, or if he had been trying to prolong the fantasy for her before it all came crashing down.

Although she had had five years to come to terms with her new life, there was still a small part of her that hoped. A small “what if…”. She had tried time and time again to squash that tiny ray of optimism that would escape every so often, tried so very hard to cultivate a hard exterior that wouldn’t let any sort of vulnerability shine through. And that optimism was a vulnerability, after all. It was that vulnerability that had made it absolutely impossible for her to fit in the muggle world, and made it so that she didn’t really want to try.

Five years to come to terms with the fact that she needed a new purpose for her life and…

…not anymore?

Eloise grabbed the letter and greedily read through it again, drinking in all of the words. She paused at the end, thinking. Was this a forgery? Some sort of awful joke orchestrated by her brother? Leo had never been cruel to her in the past; in fact, he was the one who always encouraged her and was the most probable source of the small optimism that remained within her. However, she had no way of knowing how he had changed since she had last seen him. It had been, after all, five very long years. And not once had she heard from him, even though he had promised her through huge sobbing gulps that he would never abandon her. Maybe their parents had slowly poisoned him against her. It would be right on the nose for them, after all.

Looking at the envelope again, however…Third Bedroom on the Left…no. It was too specific. Nobody in her previous life had any reason to even want to contact her again, and nobody in her current life even knew what Hogwarts was, let alone have the ability to convincingly forge a letter just to have some fun at her expense.

A light, bubbly feeling began to spread throughout her body as it sunk in that this was real. She was going to Hogwarts. Soon, a - squinting at the letter again - a Professor Fig would be contacting her and giving her things to study. A huge grin slowly spread across her face and she hugged the letter to her chest as she fell back on her bed. She read through it again. Was it the fifth time already? It felt as though no amount of times rereading the letter would ever be enough.

Eloise got up and walked over to look at the calendar on her desk. She was surprised to see that September 1st was in only two days. The days at the finishing school moved in such a strange, sluggish way. They all felt the same. Monotonous. French and Latin and embroidery and household management and Merlin even knows what else all blending into each other in an endless parade of dusty classrooms and gossip and boredom.

The light feeling left her in an instant as, after years of practice, the optimism was squashed back down. But how will you even get to London? And, her brain added sneakily, you haven’t even shown any signs of magic. Maybe you’ll just be returned back here after they realize their mistake.

No, she thought fiercely, gripping the letter. Until -

A tapping came from the window. A tentative smile returned at the sight of a tawny brown owl with another envelope in its beak. She ripped it open as soon as it was in her hands (again addressed to Miss E. Babbit) and along with the letter a small, purple pouch fell out of the envelope and onto her bed.

Miss Eloise Babbit,

I am pleased to be the wizard charged with such an important task as escorting you to Hogwarts in two days’ time. It is something extraordinary to be accepted in your fifth-year, and as such, I expect extraordinary things from you. I have enclosed a small pouch along with this envelope, and in it are some items that will be vital to you in the upcoming days. I have included books for you to study at your leisure, and a small gobstone that will bring you to our rendezvous point in London. All you have to do is touch it at noon on the 1st and you will be transported instantly.

Your family has not been informed of your acceptance. I am sure you understand why - at this, Eloise scoffed quietly to herself - which is why I will personally be your escort.

I am looking forward to meeting you and bringing you to the sorting ceremony in two days’ time.

Yours,

Eleazar Fig

The handwriting was tiny and spidery and cramped, but it didn’t stop Eloise from reading it with the same vigor as the previous letter and as many times. Finally, she turned to the small pouch that had fallen onto her bed when she opened the second envelope. It must have had an invisible extension charm, because it was filled to the brim with books on basic spellwork and general wizarding history. Professor Fig had no way of knowing, but Eloise had already read many of these books and many more during the year her brother had started Hogwarts, as she had needed to know absolutely everything about what would be awaiting her. A few years may have passed since she had stepped foot in her family’s library, but she couldn’t get the books or their contents out of her brain even if she had wanted to. She had really wanted to forget everything she knew about the magical world when it was confirmed she was a squib but it was a futile effort. As she zoned out during her piano lessons, she would find herself mentally going through the movements to cast different charms.

It was painful to be thinking about things from the life that had been ripped away from her, to know that what she was thinking about would never come to pass, that she would never be able to wield magic - and yet she couldn’t find herself able to stop.

As Eloise picked out one of the books and settled into her armchair, a steely resolve overcame her.

She would prove that she deserved to be there, and was just as capable as any of they were. She would make her parents regret ever discarding her like she was nothing.

She was worthy. She was capable. And she would prove it.

The morning of September 1st dawned cold and rainy. Absolutely perfect.

Eloise had pretended to be sick the night before, and no one had suspected a thing when she stayed in bed long after all of the other girls had gotten ready and headed to breakfast. As the last of the chattering faded away down the hallway, Eloise finally got out of bed and prepared herself for the day. It was difficult to sit still long enough to braid her hair. Her fingers wouldn’t stop trembling and she had to restart countless times. Finally, she tied the black ribbon at the end into a neat bow and turned to the drawer of her desk to retrieve the small purple pouch she had hidden away.

Everything she deemed important enough to come along with her had already been placed inside: the books from Professor Fig, the hair ribbons gifted to her by her brother many years ago, and some clothing. Nothing else was coming with. She needed the fresh start. Besides, anything else she might need would be supplied, as her acceptance letter had specifically stated that any school supplies would be provided to her.

Waiting the hours before noon came along proved to be more difficult than Eloise had imagined. Time seemed to be moving slower than the molasses that had come with the breakfast sent up to her, the steady patter of the rain becoming a sort of metronome keeping time as she paced back and forth. Wasn’t there anything that could distract her, even for a bit? She glanced at the clock. Only five minutes had passed since the last time. 10.35.

The second hand ticking away in tandem with the sound of rain splashing against her window.

What if this was all a trick? What if she arrived at Hogwarts, and they turned her away because they realized they had made a mistake? After all, why would they admit a sixteen-year-old? Surely she was too old; every other student had started Hogwarts at the age of twelve and had shown signs of magic much earlier than that. She still hadn’t shown any signs of magical capability whatsoever, and didn’t feel any different than she had before receiving the letter. It had to be a fluke.

As her thoughts started veering into the melancholy she was prone to, she shook her head. No. Today was a happy, exciting day. She wasn’t going to squash the optimism down today, not when she needed it most. All of these thoughts she was having were simply that: thoughts. Not reality. Hogwarts never made a mistake, and in all of the history books she had read, she couldn’t recall an instance of someone being turned away at the door. Granted, she had also never heard of someone being admitted so late. But, better to focus on what she did know, which was that she had gotten the letter. It must be right in its assumption that she had magic.

Trying to pass the time was easier said than done. She ended up quizzing herself on all of the charms she had memorized in the books sent by Professor Fig, moving an imaginary wand in the precise movements needed to successfully cast and focusing on her pronunciation. She had studied all of these forms late into both nights she had had the books, and when she would eventually close her eyes to sleep, the wand movements were all she saw.

Eloise was determined that she would receive pity from nobody. Nobody was going to look at her like she was lacking. She had gotten enough of that to last a lifetime, and now that she was given this opportunity she wasn’t about to waste it.

When noon finally struck, Eloise was ready and waiting. She eagerly grabbed the gobstone that was sitting on her desk and felt the familiar tugging sensation in her navel as she was whisked away to London and the beginning of her new life.

next chapter

[angst-is-love-angst-is-life]

WHAT THE FUCK

[the-kipsabian]

wrestling fic writers!!

i have decided to be the change i wanna see, so lets do a nice little thing for each other, as a community full of incredible and talented writers. yes this is writer specific only, but thats cause thats where the main problem of people not interacting with creative works lies in this fandom as far as i can tell and have seen people talking about it especially in the last couple of months

if you read this, please add links to your written works. it can be just a single fic youre really proud of, your writing blog, your writing tag, your ao3 account, anything where your works can be found

and if you leave your link here, PLEASE check out someone else that has left their works, and interact with them. leave them a comment, even just a kudos, REBLOG their fic, etc. interacting is the keyword i want to emphasize here, along with building a sort of a masterpost of where to find people writing in this fandom

and if you are not a writer, youre still highly encouraged to interact with this post and share it and show love to the writers in this fandom, obviously!! i think that should go without saying, but adding it in anyways

a bit more about my vision and resources and such under the read more, but thats the gist of it. happy linking and please be kind and supportive to each other!! 💜

nobody is too big or too small to add their things on this list. if you write and post anything in this fandom whatsoever, be it fics or drabbles or headcanons, any companies or any kind of ships or reader inserts or any content whatsoever no matter how 'dead dove dont eat' or hell even if its just meta, we welcome all here and nobody can say that one thing is less valid than another. just please tag your content accordingly, especially if theres content warnings, and feel free to mention what you write, who you write, any info you wish to leave that would help people before they click on your links. but even so, that should not and hopefully will not deter people from interacting, no matter what it is. someones trash is another ones treasure, i promise you

and unless the amount gets really overwhelming, im personally going to be checking out everyone that leaves something here. unless it squeaks me out, but even then, i'll spread the word. and i just wish as many people as possible will do the same, and not just use this as a potential board to only get eyes on their stuff. ofc thats also the point, but you should give as much, if not more, than you get. we need to be kind and supportive of one another (besides, from personal experience, if you show love to someone else, they are more likely to do it back than without you taking the first step, so... pay it forward)

as for resources, heres a few links that should be helpful in leaving comments and feedback. of course everyone does their own thing and no comment is too big or too small to leave, but for those who need them. if you have anything you'd like added to this list, dont hesitate to get in touch or drop it in the post yourself!!

101 comment starters

ao3 floating comment box

kudos html

dont know how to comment? easy solutions

a quick hot guide to commenting (by yours truly)

an overall guide to appreciating fanfic writers

and just in general.. leave people comments. leave them asks about their projects. just go over and gush about their work. i know it sounds embarrassing but writers love nothing more than to hear that someone likes what they are doing. if you find a fic that hasnt been updated in forever, comment on it. it might just be the spark the author needs to continue. while kudos and likes are nice, and just as valuable to some, its definitely in the words the people leave for them that matter the most. im not saying this to put pressure on anyone, its just how it is, and i feel like unless people are writers themselves, and even then sometimes, thats just hard to grasp, especially if the writer is a smaller and less popular one who doesnt get a lot of traffic in the first place

i think thats all. just be nice and considered to everyone, reblog peoples works, this post with others add ons and so forth. and if i find anyone talking shit here or at other writers for something they share, you'll be blocked and im probably taking your kneecaps. be fucking nice. we are all struggling here and we need to stick together

happy sharing and commenting 💜💜

[fountainpenguin]

Things that happened in Martyn & Cleo Double Life canon:

Cleo hoping to find her soulmate and start a life with them

Cleo dumping Martyn without giving him a chance to explain his side of the story, but hearing him out when he comes to her later

Martyn watching Cleo through his spyglass and telling the audience she seems safe and happy even though he thinks it's weird she's outside at night

Martyn, after he's had time to consider how he wants to play this, spinning a story about trying to be a provider for her and Cleo explaining that she wanted him, not things

Cleo not being remotely impressed by the "I was providing" sob story, lol

Martyn calling Cleo selfish for choosing to be with Scott because she's supposed to be HIS soulmate and he wants a partner

Cleo willing to forgive Martyn if he meets them halfway

Martyn refusing to meet them halfway because he doesn't think he did anything wrong

Martyn screaming about how Cleo's building bridges with Scott but "When will she think about mending our bridges???"

Martyn explaining to Cleo that he doesn't understand why his Session 1 actions bothered them

Martyn centering his character arc and roleplay on trying to win Cleo back without actually apologizing

Cleo giving Martyn a flower and stating that if he loses it, she'll be real cross with him

Cleo chasing Martyn out of her yard because he tried to put an HOA sign on her base and she wanted to make it clear that she wasn't associated with them and their hate for his base (even though she does think his heart base is strange)

Martyn attacking Cleo after she said attacking is a form of affection to her

Cleo setting boundaries with Martyn and explaining what he can do to get her back

Cleo sighing when Scar set her up on a date with Martyn, but taking the chance to talk to him instead of walking out

Cleo genuinely wanting Martyn in her alliance

Martyn and Cleo giggling constantly when they chat

Scar asking if Martyn wanted him to play a romantic music disc for him and Cleo (and Martyn getting excited and saying yes)

Martyn offering to take Cleo's armor and weapons to the deep dark so he can enchant them and bring them back while she stays safe

Cleo gifting Martyn diamonds, expecting nothing in return but not wanting him to die from lack of a good sword

Martyn and Cleo forming a secret alliance that allows Cleo to live with Scott while being on good terms with Martyn

Martyn expressing frustration that Cleo wants to keep this alliance secret because he wants them to be public allies; Cleo softly shushes him when people approach and might overhear

Martyn telling Cleo that she's putting out a lot of mixed signals because she keeps reeling him in and then pushing him away, claiming he is very confused about where he stands with her

Martyn teasing Cleo by punching her off a cliff and accidentally killing her and feeling so bad about it that he apologizes profusely despite roleplaying as someone who refused to apologize for Session 1

Martyn and Cleo immediately threatening Bdubs together when he said hi to them while they were hanging out, sdkfj

Martyn genuinely apologizing to Pearl for dumping her after Session 1

Martyn hiding under Cleo's bed while she defends him from an enderman attack

Cleo offering to let Martyn move into her house after Etho and Joel grief his base; Martyn saying he might take her up on that

Cleo and Martyn agreeing to move out and base together at Box

Cleo trusting Martyn with the location and resources of her red life base

Martyn rushing to Cleo's aid in the deep dark and trying to turn everyone against him instead

Cleo responding to Martyn's panicked shouts for her to eat by opening her inventory to get food (and drowning because she forgot she was in water)

Cleo hanging back and letting Martyn attack Scott while she does nothing to stop him from doing so, implying as much as she likes Scott, she won't kill Martyn (and herself) for him (and/or she trusted Scott to handle himself even though he ran away while Martyn was shooting at him)

Things that did not happen:

Cleo unwilling to forgive Martyn or consider being his friend and partner

Martyn and Cleo hating each other

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk

[camellcat]

I need an answer why do y'all hate on s7 like it's in vogue here what is going on I fucking loved that season. like hello? I can't decide if s5 or now s7 is my favourite of the show it was that good of a watch to me

I missed the closeness of the scoobies so bad I didn't even realize until we hit episode three and I was aching for it. oh, god. and the spuffy of it all! I can't even get into it right here but ohhhh. oh. and DAWNIE my sweet girl oh sweet niblet I love her so much. anya's episode? probably one of my favourite episodes of the entire show tyvm. I really liked kennedy and honestly I think she made a great second in command for buffy when she actually listened, though I think she'd be a god-awful leader. almost all of the episodes held my attention that weren't, y'know, bewitched bothered bewildered part two electric boogaloo over there. and DRUSILLAAAAAA ik she wasn't real but IDC I was fawning every time she was on screen both as the first as actually her oh I just adore her I'll never understand her and I don't even care. taking it back actually getting into the spuffy of it all for a second because oh my GOD they had an actual conversation about themselves where she neither ran away nor punched him!! and the montage of everyone screwing, only to cut to spuffy simply cuddling? to show THAT'S their intimacy? 'bout fuckin killed me it did

them kicking buffy out of her house and then literally no one saying ANYTHING about how she was RIGHT except spike ofc really bothered me. and gosh the way they just kinda... did buffy's plan anyways. a little different, but not really? still invaded the vineyard when half the reason no one was listening to her was bc they didn't wanna go back that. but that was like the biggest issue I had the entire season honestly. there was no riley to make me furious, 15 minutes of angel that I hated every second of but is so small it's whatever, and robin wood kinda annoyed me once he turned on buffy and spike there but y'know he gets less relevant so pshh. I'll admit I also got a bit peeved at myself every time I smiled at something andrew said but he grew on me wayyy quicker than I was expecting or wanting I get why he shows up in fics so often now he's entertaining to watch

anyways. I'm sure there's like a billion million things I've missed in my endeavor to simply enjoy myself while watching but as it stands? I love this season. I love it to bits and pieces and I think it was incredibly fun. y'all might just be the biggest haters in the world cause I am SO glad I decided to actually give it a go

[good-beanswrites]

An 0309 drabble for an anon ask I got a bit ago :) Thank you for being patient, I really enjoyed writing this!! It's actually a little moment I've wanted to write since I started Milgram fic, but never got around to it. (I mention his injured eye, but don't actually describe anything)

“Stop moving around so much.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I mean it. You’ll make things worse.”

Mikoto watched as the intensity in Fuuta’s gaze flickered between fire and fear.

He had a doctor’s kit laid out on his lap. Recently, Shidou had his hands full with Mahiru’s treatments and having intense conversations with Haruka, so Mikoto wanted to give him a break. With none of the injuries actually healing as they should, the prisoners were caught in an endless loop of changing bandages and checking for complications.

Shidou was grateful for the help. Many of the others tolerated Fuuta in the same way they spent only the necessary time around Mikoto. They smiled and placated him, acting like he’d gone mad all of the sudden. Whatever was making the others avoid the two of them, it drew the pair together. Mikoto was finding he enjoyed Fuuta’s company. Something about him was rather… charming. 

“Me? You’re the asshole that will make things worse. You’re no doctor! Fuck you.”

Eh, maybe he had gone mad. 

He took comfort, at least, in the knowledge that Fuuta was growing more comfortable with him. He sure had a special way of showing it, but Mikoto didn’t brag about being a people-person for nothing – he picked up on the way Fuuta sought him out during the day, pretending to be involved in his own activities. The way he struck up a conversation, then acted as if it had been Mikoto’s idea to come over and bother him. 

Therefore it was exciting, though not surprising, when Fuuta allowed Mikoto to help treat his injuries. They had only done it a few times, but today brought a whole new challenge. 

“I’m not performing surgery or anything. Shidou said it just needs some basic disinfecting.” He flashed his usual grin. “I have a steady hand – I’m a photographer, you know.”

Aside from Shidou, Fuuta hadn’t allowed a single person to look under his eyepatch. 

He remained unamused by Mikoto’s smile. For better or worse, he could always tell when it was forced. “It’s not like I have any proof of that. You could be awful at it, for all I know.”

“First chance I get, I’ll request a camera and prove it. Want me to take a picture of you first?”

“If you haven’t already messed up my face…” Fuuta’s focus was glued to the hand carefully reaching towards him. 

Mikoto pouted his lips. “Shidou trusted me enough with this. And you must have, because you agreed earlier. So If it’s not about me… You’re not scared, are you?”

There were some things that Fuuta didn’t stop to see through. He sputtered in surprise. “Hell no!” He lifted his chin, finally taking his attention off Mikoto’s hands. He stared defiantly. “I can take it.”

Mikoto felt a bit guilty for resorting to foul play. But not that guilty. “Good. Now hold still...”

He got right to it. One hand held ginger hair out of the way, while the other pinched the corner of the eyepatch. Fuuta’s good eye darted nervously around the room, avoiding the other's close-leaning face. Mikoto peeled it away swiftly, gently

As a horror movie buff, the injury didn’t faze him in the slightest. As someone who’d grown close to Fuuta recently, he felt a wave of anguish at the sight.

Fuuta squirmed. “It’s nasty, isn’t it…”

Mikoto reached down for some supplies. He considered mustering up a smile and saying there was no need to worry so much, but it would have been pointless. Times like these, it was kind of a relief when someone else could see right through him for a change. 

“It looks like it hurts.”

“Tch, I don’t need any pity from you.”

“I was going to say, you hide it well. You’re tougher than the warden gives you credit for.”

His cheeks flushed red. “I – I don’t need any flattery from you either!”

“Don’t need anything from anybody, huh?”

Before he could come up with a retort, he hissed through his teeth in pain.

“Ah, sorry.” Mikoto immediately retracted his hand from where it had been dabbing alcohol onto the injury.

Steeling his expression, he muttered, “it’s fine.”

Mikoto tried again. He made sure to move with even more steadiness, his face drawn up in concentration. He saw Fuuta’s features flinch when he touched him, but he stayed still. The two were silent, now, as Mikoto worked. Leaning his face so close made the short task feel much longer. The reddening in his cheeks didn't subside.

He expected Fuuta to snatch the fresh eyepatch away the moment he unwrapped it – he was shocked that Fuuta let him adjust it into place without a word.

“Alright. You’re all set.” He started packing up the kit.

“Listen, don’t tell the others. About my eye.”

Mikoto squinted. He gestured to the right side of his face. “I hate to break it to you, but the big patch kinda gives you away.”

“You idiot! I just mean, don’t tell them what it looks like.” He pulled his hood down over his hair. “I don’t need everyone trying to steal a look at it like I’m some sort of freakshow.”

“Hey, of course.” Mikoto gave him a smile, the kind they both knew was genuine. “I’ve got you.”

Fuuta nodded. He turned his face away, his fingers lingering over where Mikoto’s had just been. “... And… thanks.”

[autumnfangirler]

WIP Wednesday

its actually wednesday when i post this guys, its a christmas miracle. i got ganged up on by @hyper-pixels @localcryptic and @b33tlejules for my wips 😔 im gonna tag @heartbreakincident @idlenight @aurrieattorney and @musicismymoirail if yall want?

ive mostly got writing wips so far, i havent had as much time to work on art lately :') but! have these:

Chen: “Huh,” Ricardo says, looking at him thoughtfully as he starts heating up the leftovers. “Shouldn’t you be at home by now then? You always said training with Herald wore you out.” He shuffles enough to sneak a mournful glance at the microwave. Whether or not Caine notices is anybody’s guess. He just looks over his shoulder– the first time he’s acknowledged Chen’s presence. Ortega: “Huh.” Ortega takes the chance to shift closer, watching his leftovers heating up. Internally, he smiles. Prick. “Shouldn’t you be at home by now then? You always said training with Herald wore you out.” He never bought Caine’s complaints, of course. He still remembers the brutal efficiency Lycan had taken Daniel down with at the gala. At the very least, Caine was exaggerating how winded he was. Caine: “Huh. Shouldn’t you be at home by now then?” Ortega asks, moving next to them. “You always said training with Herald wore you out.” That wasn’t a lie. They never specified whether it was physically or not, and their head still aches.

this is the multipov fic i keep talking about, its probably one of my favourite, most indulgent fics ive worked on so far. look at these idiots. so many thoughts running through their head 24/7 and all of them are wrong. utterly fantastic to watch i love it so much.

also the rat king!! my girls!!!

this bit technically counts as spoilers for dunmeshi. i think. im gonna put it under the cut anyway since idk whos currently watching/reading it hsdjjf

"Your spell book," he says. The words are quiet, eyes boring into her bag. "What?" "Your spell book," he repeats, louder this time, nearly slipping on the blood as he takes a staggering leg up. "You've revived people using black magic before. You can do it again." "It's not bla- I mean, we don't have-" She chews on her lip. "... I don't have a spell for this. It only worked on Falin because we were in a dungeon. This is..."

some very rough dialogue for a fic i probably wont finish about marcille waking chilchuck up from a nightmare. ive seen versions of it with laios and falin, but i think with marcilles whole everything going on there her having to deal with chilchucks nightmare would be really interesting to explore. also because i miss marcille and chilchuck. my beloveds.....

[dancedance-resolution]

well fellas it’s happening i think i am maybe developing a crush on the girl ive been fucking recently 🫥

[hella1975]

wondering why old ladies aren’t smiling at me around town as much this morning then remember im wearing hoops and a puffer jacket and generally look like a bitchy year 9 girl who’s about to punch someone

[cicadaknight]

Finished binding volume 1 of Becoming Whole!

@pikapeppa thank you for being so lovely and sharing your writing with the world! (And for hyping me up and sending me pretty photomode screenshots)

[saviourkingslut]

not to be about opera again but to be about opera again. as an art form it has the reputation of being super stuffy and something for snobs who don't know how to have fun only but honestly this was one of, perhaps even THE main theatrical entertainment for centuries. i wish people knew how hard these things can go and how engaging they can be. like characters kill and die and fight wars and (almost) commit human sacrifice left and right. characters fall in love they mourn they're ecstatic they cry they're furious it's an extremely dramatic and emotional art form! and i understand that opera does not appear approachable bc of the general conventions of the art form but i promise old works can be fun and engaging if you go watch them with some preparation beforehand (reading the libretto helps) - not to mention not all operas are old bc there are so many modern operas which engage with topical events! also the music slaps.

[plusultraetc]

423 spoilers in the tags <3

[ponuchuu]

help my brain has not at all been normal about nsfw ppgear

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

Ford pines for headcanons?

YES FUCKCING YES GIRL!!!!!!!! LETS A GO !

A (Realisitic): lovessssss doodling on paper. has an affinity for eyes (;]), swirlies, scribbles, and creatures. whatever he can get his damned hands on he will doodle on it and he will do it happily. my boy's an artist ❤️❤️

B (Not Realistic But Funny): honestly in canon ford's probably into music too much but i can see him being an period music fan. abba, queen (teehee), freetwood mac, david bowie, etc. that's just his VIBE to me, not in the crowley way but in his own strong inks and cigarette smoke way. i associate thoss things with him as well as anythinf existing before 1982 with him alot if u didnt know. i still see something and go "ford missed this 😔" or "ford didn't miss this! 😁" in a sad or happy tone at least once a day /srs. oh i love this guy

C (Heart-Crushing): this kinda collides with D but im keeping it in that category. soul crushing? ford never knowing what to hope for in regards to stan on the other side. whenever he has time to think about it, he isnt sure whether to imagine him in his house or dead in a ditch, and the mystyer honestly scares him more than he'd like to admit. ford kinda treats it like schrodinger's cat in a way--as long as he never confirms, it could really be anything, and that absolves him of any potential guilt. so. (also: that he celebrates holidays out in the multiverse too, when possible. makeshift menoras, pastries in substitute of bday cakes, lighting sticks during new years. just for the sense of grounding. ALSO alsohe's spent at least 3 birthdays in a prison cell or very hurt. so. yeah)

D (Unrealistic but FUCK CANON): has always stuggled with addiction, especially with antidepressants or alcohol. thus sort of snowballs into a whole "if this makes me feel good i cannot have for more than needed" but still ends upgrappling with it anyway. he suffered MAJORRRR withdrawlel when portal stranded and since then swore off it bc he drank the most under bill's influence. it's very important to me and i need more fics about it sooooooo bad, bc while i HAVE written my own, i think someone else is needed to do it justice. now that im remembering this i HAVE read some with this hc and they were beautiful and i need to reread them again and i need to REWATCH THIS DAMN SHOW SO I CAN READ AND WRITE SOME FIC AGAI .... also there IS some evidence as extracted by @/callipraxia (need to find that meta again) but i DOUBT that would ever be canon bc of the kid show rating. (watch the book of bill canonize this seven fucking months from now. i swear to god..../j)

TY FOR THE ASK!!!!!! 💖💖