#Philip has always heard him speak.

[roadkillip]

This episode was a huge win for me and my 'Belos hallucinates so so much' headcanons

[local-crying-boy]

ℂ 𝕆 𝔻 𝕞 𝕖 𝕟 𝕙 𝕖 𝕒 𝕕 𝕔 𝕒 𝕟 𝕟 𝕠 𝕟 𝕤

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

How they are like in a relationship pt2

Characters included: Alex Keller, Philip Graves, Nikolai, Hadir Karim

A/n: I don’t know a lot about other CoD characters that I have not written this headcannon for, so I apologise for my lack of knowledge and that the others are missing <3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Alex Keller

Our little American is the sweetest man here.

He’s one respectful, kind and loving man (not like the others aren’t) but he’s the type who just knows what’s going on with you by a simple look

He calls you names like ‘baby’ ‘sweetheart’

He’s got a list of jokes he wants to tell you, and has told you the CIA one a few times in hopes that it does soon become funny

Loves it when you tell him stupid jokes as well

Phillip Graves

Pet names like ‘sweetheart’ ‘honey’ ‘doll’ ‘baby’. Stupid little ones you expect southern Americans to use (for obvious reasons)

He doesn’t like leaving for missions when you and him got together, he wanted to be with you and give you all the love you deserve

So, since he can’t always be there, he would drown you in gifts and affection the minute he got home.

He usually tries to show this all the time, but you know that sometimes he just simply comes back completely and utterly mentally and physically exhausted.

He can’t say much about what he does, but he can still somewhat confine in you (as much as he insists he’s okay)

Nikolai

King of forehead kisses. You cannot tell me otherwise.

He’s talk asf (well, he’s taller than me and I’m short asf), so he can just tower over you and plant soft kisses over your head.

He’s older too, so he’s screaming major respect and being a decent man that you might not find in younger lads (for example the boys my age -.-)

He was also reluctant at first to be with you, his age was one thing as the age gap between you and him was a little too large for his liking.

However, you heavily grew on this man and he couldn’t help but FINALLY admit his feelings.

RUSSIAN NICKNAMES

Most of the time you don’t know what he’s called you, but, hey-ho, at least it’s something.

Has, at least once, insulted you in Russian without you knowing and covered it up as a pet name (you never heard him call you it more than once)

Hadir Karim

Hadir knows how it feels to loose those who are close to him, he’s practically lost his entire family due to the war going on in Urzikstan.

When he first met you, he wasn’t planning on falling in love with you, let alone date you.

However, one things leads to another and the two of you ended up getting together (yipeee)

His worst fear is losing you, after everyone he’s lost, he doesn’t want to lose another.

If you’re a solider, he’s mostly watching out for you when you’re fighting, waiting for the moment that he might have to jump in and make sure you don’t die.

It’s an extreme, of course, he knows you are completely capable of taking care of yourself, but caution didn’t kill the cat, curiosity did, and he’s happy to admit he’s not curious to see if you could survive the worse of the worst.

Speaks little sentences to you in Arabic, he doesn’t care if you understand or not (he hopes that, one day, you’ll be able to catch onto certain phrases and words)

Masterlist

[envolvenuances]

we watched the lily philips documentary on youtube yesterday

I was already disproportionately uncomfortable on the first half of it from just how familiar her behaviour and language was. the way she kept trying to get him into her humourous flirting and degradation of herself ("only good for one thing" after she slips too much milk on tea on accident) and seems offended he doesn't. the way she gets even more offended and uncomfortable when he praises her for something that isn't her looks of shaggig skills. the very tense atmosphere when she looks likes she's daring him to make a serious critique of her father's friends watching her pornography content and he backs down. the way she calls herself different from "normal girls" right until she gets seriously upset then the others are "weak girls". the comment on realising sex wasn't special so what she does isn't that different or a big deal. and especially the "I realised all men would always sexualize me anyway so I might as well make some cash out of it"... which I found the most telling phrase in all of it btw. and is she so wrong when even the men capable of producing such a sensible video is selling an "uncensored" version on his patreon? (found that one in the comments later)

it does remind me of what I mean when I mention struggling with hypersexuality and the impact it has on your perpection and all relationships. she mentions being lonely and of course it's much worse as a millionaire OnlyFans woman but I wonder if it started early. I remember a time of trying to "pay back" any kindness from my friends with sex then whining about not having any meaningful friendships. I would call it a vicious circle but it's more of a downward spiral. but it does speak of detachment.

but as for the day itself... didn't expect her to be able to pay nine workers on her team and for all of them to be that incompetent and inhumane about bare minimal security and comfort. really went in for the meat grinding spectacle. claim to have given her snall breaks for "showers and electrolytes" but couldn't minimally clean the room wanted all the used condoms piling on the floor for the shot. but then the woman hiding her face in the video is essentially a madame.

101 and only 2 willing to talk while also hiding their faces and real voices for anonymity. one fake crying about all the money he spent flying international just for it. the other real crying about the apparent moral injury he just inflicted on himself. both belonging in a registry. the man who made the documentary also doesn't ask them any meaningful questions but I get he's an amateur who wrote no script. pity. he could have learned some tips from Bettina Flitner or Gail Dines. not hard to get Johns talking.

liked the piece with the other woman Alex who does Only Fans. bit crude but overall older and with a much clear picture of things wish we had heard more from her. agree with her you could only hope it's not the future of it because it was bad enough already but it seems like the grim scenario. which is exactly the problem with leaving these "amateur" pornography platforms legalized and unregulated like this.

hearing many say this story exposes the limits of both choice model and consent binary in "liberal feminism" - tho I would much rather call that backlash. and it's not that I disagree. something we might never know exactly what is keeping that woman in and it is both sad to see and revolting for how she admits the impact goes a little beyond her (tho it's less on those she's calling"normal girls" and more immediately on other women on Only Fans). she probably already feels like she's reached a no return point. but my thing is we already have a pile of bodies some even younger and more vulnerable many who have been on camera as life was drained of them.

it's not a story without direct feminist and communist action that will put a stop on the sex trade. so if this gets people talking I hope we can be the ones bringing them to think locally and meet existing projects and activists

[rfxiii]

I just love your writing could I possibly request how all three main boys would acted if they heard there s/o singing and like there voice is pretty good sounding

(tysm for the kind words! this is such a cute idea, and I love singing so this was personally so fun for me to write 💕 I hope you like it!)

TW: quick mention of Trevor’s childhood/mother

Franklin, Michael, & Trevor with a S/O who sings well:

Franklin Clinton:

I personally headcanon Franklin as having a bit of a musical side. I dunno why. He just has a really pretty, almost soothing speaking voice and I think he’d be a good singer. So if his s/o was a good singer too I think he’d instantly fall in love with your voice.

Post game, when he has all his money from the Union Depository job, he’s definitely talking about buying you record deals or even starting his own label just so you can get your voice out there.

He’d make you a little personal studio in his house for you to record/practice.

Brags about you to everyone. Keeps tracks on his phone to show his friends how good you sing.

Would NEVER let you sign up for Fame Or Shame. He knows just from talk that Lazlow is sleazy, and after first hand accounts from Michael, he has no intention of letting you anywhere near him or that show.

Would probably go so far as to ask Michael to put one of your songs in a movie he’s producing.

He’s your biggest fan and he’s always there to support you, even if you want to keep your talent to yourself.

Michael De Santa:

He overheard you singing in the shower and by the time you’ve gotten out and gotten dressed he’s already bought you a recording studio.

When he has a bad night or wakes up from night terrors he likes it when you sing to him to calm him down. He falls asleep much easier with your fingers stroking through his hair and your soft voice singing him to sleep.

He’d put an entire album of your songs in a movie he produces.

His favorite time of day is laying in bed early in the morning and listening to you singing in the shower. It calms him down and gets him ready for the day.

Would kill Lazlow before letting you go on Fame Or Shame. Plain and simple. He already embarrassed Tracey, and Michael isn’t letting him get anywhere close to you.

He honestly thinks that there’s no one as talented as you. He’d get huffy and argue with anyone who said any other singer sounds better than you do.

Trevor Philips:

Your number one fan. He’s made his own merch to support you (it’s just your name written in sharpie on an old white tee shirt). And he made Ron figure out how to record you and burn a CD of you singing.

When he’s sad or upset he likes to lay in your lap, have you pat his head, and sing to him until he feels better or falls asleep.

He’ll ask you to sing some old songs his mother used to listen to when he was a child. He usually ends up crying but it makes him happy to hear you sing it. It’s like being close to his mother without all the yelling or abuse afterwards.

Would demand that Michael uses his Vinewood influence as a producer to get you some kind of deal or song in a movie he’s making.

Keeps a CD or cassette tape of you singing in his truck so he can listen to it when he misses you.

He’s always begging you to sing for him. It can be annoying or overwhelming but it’s honestly because he loves you so much and thinks you’re truly the most talented person in the world. And anyone who disagrees can take it up with him.

[esperfruit]

More short TTTE Human AU refs

Victor de Cèspedes

Age: 42

Height: 183 cm

Victor is a mechanic and engineer from Cuba. He came to Sodor after he was recruited by Sir Topham Hatt, who heard about his famous skills after the company Victor worked for went bankrupt. He had a lot of trouble shortly after his arrival because he couldn't speak English at first. The first English word he learned was "red" when he chose his new uniform. His primary job is the repairs of machines, there is almost nothing he can't fix.

Despite being busy and strict, he has a charming and accomodating personality and wants to create a good work atmosphere for everyone. He earned many sympathy points with people after he told off Spencer and embarassed him. In an accident, he feel down a cliff but miraculously survived. After he went missing for a while, he cleared up the misunderstanding that Luke might have killed him. Victor has a clumsy assistant named Kevin, who tests his patience on a daily basis but Victor knows he's a good guy.

Charlie Wardle

Age: 20

Height: 177 cm

A young man from the city, who just entered the work life. Before that, Charlie was partying all the time and was very popular. He has an easy-going and fun-loving personality and loves making others laugh. Unfortunately he has the bad habits of being careless, easily distracted and often doesn't treat things serious enough. The younger ones like Thomas, Percy, Rebecca and Paxton see in him a good friend and fun to hang out with while on the other hand most older adults like Gordon, Henry and Cranky find him, annoying, unfunny and view him as a general nuiscence.

After Charlie got into a lot of trouble due to his carelessness, Edward took him in as his apprentice because he saw how Charlie felt genuine regret for what he did. Charlie feels a lot of gratitude towards him and started endearlingly calling him "Eddie".

Trevor Foster

Age: 63

Height: 171 cm

The principal of the school Thomas, Percy, Rosie and Philip attend. He his very good-hearted and likes children, he wants nothing but the best for them. Trevor is usually polite and peaceful but he will take any measures to make sure everyone, who hurts a child will be punished.

Outside of school, he helps out at the local church by taking care of its orchard. He owns a steam tractor in which he often gives rides with. Trevor is also good friends with Terence and Bertie. The three organized a big party once to earn enough money so children could go to the beach during summer vacation. He also became a close friend of Edward after the latter brought him to the hospital when he collaped once. Even since then Trevor looks after Thomas in school for Edward.

Terence Crawler

Age: 33

Height: 190 cm

A local farmer, who owns a caterpiller tractor. He usually uses it for ploughing but on request he can fulfill other jobs. Similar to Bertie with his bus, Terence has a strong atattchment to his tractor as he was willing to do anything to save it from falling into a lake when ice under it cracked. He is assertive, helpful and always eager to do a job. He has the saying: "You have to be sensible if you want to stay safe." and he easily forgives other for getting cheeky with him. Despite being very friendly and good-natured, a few people such as James find him quite unsetteling because he always has"that smile"...

Kenji Shima

Age: 17

Height: 169 cm

A high school student from Japan, who took in an internship with an inventor during summer vacation. He accompanied his superior to a science fair on Sodor and was helping out with presentations. When members of a smuggling ring failed to steal secret and valuable blueprints, they held Kenji hostage to get away but he was saved by Sonny, who betrayed the ring.

Kenji is from a family of scientists and his parents have high expectations for him to become their sucessor but there is one severe problem: Kenji struggles with technology. Regardless, he studies hard to learn and adapt skills and knowledge. Kenji is determined, organized and clever but also a bit anxious as he hates being alone and he fears dissapointing his family if he doesn't become scenentist like them.

[lunarw0rks]

Through The Ashes | Chapter Seven

Summary: You've been given an offer to join the 141 Task Force. Upon taking it, you find yourself ensnared with the mysterious masked man who won't take his eyes off you.

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), PTSD themes, canon-typical violence, slight gore, mentions of trauma, references parental death, grief, hurt/comfort but also hurt/nocomfort

A/N: should I write an epilogue? (not proofread) | Word Count: 3.2k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter // requests | ao3 | playlist

Loose Ends

You dig out the packet from your pocket and slide it across Price’s desk.

“It’s all in the form, Sir.”

He takes it and flips through the pages, skimming the highlighted parts. “Stress leave? You’re sure about this, Private?” He flicks his eyes back up to you and raises a brow.

“Just a few months, until I can figure out my options. And I don’t want anyone to know about it, I don’t want it causing a fuss.”

“I understand.” You nod, relieved for it to be approved. You head for the door and place your fingers around the handle. You’re stopped by him speaking once more.

“You’ve done good work around here. I’m sure you’ll make a good decision.” You flash a friendly smile at Price, and then exit his office.

You’re happy to be back at the Safehouse where your career in the 141 first started, even though it came with plenty of ups and downs. 

El Sin Nombre is in custody, Hassan is dead. For the first time in months, the roster is clear—a perfect time to slip away.

—

You’re sitting in your barrack, gazing out the window at the secluded country around you. You yearned for the blissful ignorance people carried every day. The horrible things you and your coworkers see and protect everyday citizens from—it does something to you; it makes you look at things differently, even the beautiful scenery around you.

As your eyes are glued to the sky, the enjoyment is null. Your ears fill with the screams of innocents you heard in Chicago over and over again. It’s been a persistence ever since you returned, during any moment of solitude.

You needed out—a few months, maybe a year, and you’d be back in duty. Or maybe, you fulfill your contract and retire early.

A rapid set of knocks stirs you out of your thoughts, making you look up at the culprit. It’s Soap, leaning on the doorframe with a look of unease written on his expression.

“Price wants you. Something about that bastard Graves.” Before you can question it, he zipped down the hall to the meeting room.

Graves? As in, Philip Graves? He was presumed K.I.A. It’s always one problem after another, never seeming to end.

You stand yourself up and quickly follow in Soap’s footsteps, taking your usual spot next to him. Price barely waits for you to be seated before he begins his speech. His brows are tightened, his face is carrying a tension worse than when El Sin Nombre went silent.

“Graves' whereabouts are somewhere stateside, and he’s working with the Russians running some sort of Task Force of mercenaries.” You nearly fall out of the seat with the force of the shock. Russians? How has he flown under the radar so long?

Ghost shifts in his seat a bit, and his eyes grow cold. “Soap killed the bastard himself, how is that possible?”

“He’s had a plan in the works for months.” Price adds. “We need to stop his convoy coming in, and evacuate the civilians nearby.”

Goddammit. The last thing your psyche needed was more casualties weighing on you, especially in the hands of a traitorous con artist like Graves.

“We’re leaving the day after tomorrow. Stay sharp out there.”

—

Ever since the meeting about Graves, you’ve felt half-in-half-out. He was supposed to be dead, dead and gone, but he’s not. And now he shows up and has some malicious plan to get back at your team.

You must not have noticed it until now, but you’re spacing out again for God knows how long. You snap out of it, and force your hands to continue stapling the papers in front of you. You look over, and Ghost stares briefly, before his gaze goes back to the straight ahead. If anybody knows how you feel right now, it’s probably him.

“Forgot these.” He places a stack of folders down in front of you. You can tell he’s trying not to mention the obvious, not that he would anyway.

There’s no turning back now—you’ll be gone in a few days anyway.

“Ghost.”

“Yeah?” He halts, turning to face you.

“How do you do it? That… way about you? You just… Shut everything off and keep working.”

He almost scoffs right through his mask, leaning a hand on your desk. “I don’t recommend it, Sergeant.”

“Then when does it stop? The things that keep replaying in your head?” Your question hangs in the air a few seconds, before you continue your ramble. “I can’t see past it—the lies and the violence, and the way we all just avoid it.”

He steps a little closer, leaning down to meet your eyes. He knows that feeling all too well, but he’s learned to mask it.

“If you keep thinking like that, it’ll swallow you up. You’re a good soldier, better than most of the muppets I’ve seen. You know that, right?”

You’re fiddling with the paper in your hands, trying to deflect some of the feelings you’re having right now. You press your lips into a line, and nod your head. His words meant more than most.

“You’re not planning on jumping off a cliff, are you?” He asks, letting out a dry chuckle. “Don’t tell me it’s something terminal, either.”

You can’t control the smile spreading on your face. It was not the line you were expecting to lighten the mood, but it worked nonetheless.

He reaches out a fist and gives your chest a few knocks right over your heart. “Feels pretty sturdy to me. You’ll be ‘right.”

Saying thank you would be pointless. He’s not a man of many words to begin with, especially not words of appreciation. You outstretched your arms and gave him a brief embrace, as if to let yourself say goodbye to him without the pressure of figuring out what to say. You debate on even telling him you’re going away.

It’s an unexpected move on both parts, but he doesn’t jerk away from you like he did last time. Instead of pulling away, he places his palm on the back of your head, giving it a gentle clasp.

You both pull away, and he looks as if he doesn’t know what to do with the affection. He loses his eye contact, and his inelegant demeanor returns.

“Felt more like a goodbye… We’ll need you out there when we hunt that bastard down.”

“I wouldn’t miss that for the world.” You reply, almost boastfully. After a seconds pause, you bite the bullet. “I put in for some leave, not sure how long, yet.”

He’s less shocked than you expected him to be, but given the way you vented maybe it isn’t.

“I’ll pick up the slack while you’re gone. But then I want you back bright and early, five-o-clock sharp.” His words lighten, having an edge of humor to them. Then again, he could be serious and you wouldn’t know.

You crinkle your nose to stifle a laugh, finishing sorting the papers that you have procrastinated on for months. You place the boxes under the desk, and then move onto the next batch. You’ve expected him to be gone by now, but he isn’t.

“Before you go—” Ghost speaks from the entrance of the room, as if he stopped in the middle of stride. His eyes look soft again, and they’re scanning you like they’ve done a hundred times.

“—we should have a round together.”

—

The tires screech to a stop on the pavement, jerking all of you around with force. Door opens, and you and the others pile out, guns drawn and ready.

“I want everyone to evacuate civilians first.” Price commands, standing in front of the group.

“Go in pairs and take one building each. Direct them to the triage center down the road. Graves’ll destroy anything to prove a point, so get the hell out of there.”

You follow Ghost, who’s the first person to your right. Your feet pound as you both bolt up the road. You claim the first building, which is some sort of an office, but the structure looks ancient. He smashes through the glass entrance and steps inside. The flashlight attached to his barrel is the only thing allowing you to see ahead of you.

You turn off and check the lower level, but it’s clear.

“Anyone upstairs?” You shout, since he’s sure to hear you through the thin walls.

“Clear.” His voice echoes down the stairwell.

You meet him outside, waiting to regroup before you move onto the next building. The next one is further up the road—a hotel closed for construction. This time, you take the lead, bursting through the door.

There’s a few employees that you usher out of there, directing them to the triage center. There’s no time to answer their frantic questions, anything could happen in a matter of minutes.

“Convoy is a few miles out. Make sure you’re out of there before then.” Price chirps through, only heightening your apprehension to get through this operation. You rush up the flights of stairs, sweeping each vacant room for anyone. “We’re heading down to the triage center. Both of you meet us there.”

After checking the rooms, you take the elevator back to the ground level, meeting up with Ghost once more. “Upper level is clear,” you say, in between catching your breath.

“Dining hall is the last area. Let’s sweep it before we’re sitting ducks.”

You reach the dining hall, which seems to be the area under remodel. Tarps are spread over the missing pieces of the roof, but you can still see the stars glimmer through the gaps. Pieces of drywall are peeled away, and there’s equipment still left laying askew.

You search through the entirety of it, but it’s as empty as the upper levels.

When you pass by the bar alongside Ghost’s eyes don’t leave the path in front of him.

As you’re both nodding to one another, signaling that it’s time to go, your radio chimes in. It gargles for a while, as if it’s struggling to receive the message at the right frequency. You furrow your brow and press the button, “Repeat that again, frequency is shot.”

Ghost stops in his tracks as he listens through his own, trying to pick out any words or phrases in case it’s an important callout. He shakes his head and pulls out his walkie-talkie, which is also emitting the same error.

He gives it a few smacks and curses when it doesn’t work. He keeps it in his grip just in case it works again, but motions his head in the direction of the door. “Let’s get out of here, I don’t like this.”

“Good to see you boys again.” The glitched voice emitting through your wire stops you dead in your tracks. You place a hand on Ghost’s shoulder, yanking him into a stop so you can hear it further.

When he does, he sprints to the other side of the large room, checking the entrance and windows for any sign of hostiles.

You look at him wide-eyed, as the line goes dead again. Graves had patched into your frequency and clogged it so you couldn’t reach your team. Whatever he was planning before, it’s here now and there’s no time to stop.

Your earpiece unexpectedly picks up the frequency again when you reach the middle of the dining hall. It gargles out a few words that you can’t understand, and then it emits a high-pitched shriek so boosted it makes you keel over and rip it out.

Ghost moves quicker than before, as your hurried steps try to catch up with him, your boots echoing with each careful stride—as if to not get your foot caught in any of the uneven patches of flooring.

The glass on the chandeliers began to rattle, as did the glassware packed away in boxes. You felt the floor vibrate, and the tarps over the exposed drywall began to whoosh. The electricity flickered as a loud whoosh of a jet passed overhead. The lights exploded into sparks, making you cover your ears for cover.

You had no time to get any closer to the door before the force of a nearby explosion knocked you to the hard ground. The world around feels like it’s been tilted on its axis, and your vision is doubled. You see Ghost already scrambled to his feet, and he’s outstretching his hand to help you up.

You reach for it and just barely brush against his fingertips. When you’re too sluggish, he clasps your upper arm and jerks you toward him, just barely getting you upright.

Another jet passes overhead, the sound of the engine fills your ears once more. When another bomb drops, it’s closer than the last. You knock into one of the pillars, losing your balance again. A clamorous groan of the building causes him to lose his grip on you, and you’re knocked down again, fading in and out of consciousness.

Ghost ripped himself away just as the already fragile structure began to crumble. He covered his head as the blast proceeded, gathering himself when the destruction came to a stop. Ghost coughed away the dust and stumbled through the dimness of the large space.

“Where are you?” He rasped as he felt around, gripping onto one of the pillars still standing.

He climbed through a gap in the boards, looping through one of the neighboring rooms to locate you. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you—draped across the floor with rubble surrounding you—illuminated only by the night sky, its radiance shining through the faulted roof.

Your foot was pinned by a piece of cement, rendering it unusable.

He throws his radio onto the ground and is by your side in a second, knelt beside you. When you finally come to, you try to move, but your foot is pinned completely.

“Don’t move your feet.” He spouts in a low tone, looking around the room for anything he can use to jack it up, but everything nearby is smashed to pieces.

Your eyes dart around the room to assess the damage, but you can’t crane your neck enough to see it all.

Finally, he finds a board to shove some of it away enough. He grabs your calf and pulls your foot out from under, but it’s completely limp. You can’t feel any of this, as if you’re under anesthesia, which is both a blessing and a curse.

You swallow, giving some saturation to your dry throat. “How bad’s the leg?” You murmur, unable to see what kind of deformity he’s tending to.

“You’ll be alright, need to find a way out.” He crawls back to your side, looking every which way as if an exit door was going to appear out of thin air.

He intertwines your hand, attempting to hoist you up. “Lean on me,” he says unsteadily. You can’t use your weight at all, or move for that matter—almost immediately dropping back to the ground.

A sharp, shooting pain runs up your backbone, making you wail in agony. His hands hasten around to find the source of it. Your excruciation is like someone running a knife along his skin. He knows that sound all too well.

He turns your torso, revealing the source of it—shards of metal plates embedded deep within your spine, and it’s been bleeding this whole time. He masks his panic as best as he can, but his silence is every answer you need.

“I can’t feel it anymore…” You whisper, now unable to move anything in your lower half.

The marble floor you’re limp upon is slowly becoming covered with your blood, seeping into the grout and cracks of it. You’re losing too much, too fast—and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

You feel each breath turn into an irregular wheeze with an increasing amount of seconds between each of them.

Ghost shifted the position you were in so your head was hiked onto his thigh, having no choice but to look up at him. You rest your palm on the ground beside you, using the last of your remaining energy to trace the pattern of the marble.

He stops your hand and clenches it, halting your twitching. He moves his other hand to your hair and holds onto the side of your head, not breaking eye contact with you for a second.

“We should get that drink, Sergeant.” He speaks softly, his eyes wrinkling over the weight of his own words.

You titter at his words, allowing them to distract you from the despondency of the situation you’re in. There’s nothing you can say to him that won’t fissile into the air—the silence is loud enough to fill those gaps in.

Ghost is mirroring what he did when his mother passed, cradling her as if he could nurse the wounds away. He recalls the same way her eyes were washed over with emptiness, no longer hosting any soul in them.

The way your chest rattles, the crimson seeping through the cracks of your skin and leaking onto his clothes—it’s a familiar sorrow.

He leans down and presses his lips to yours after the labored breaths stopped—something he didn’t have the courage to do when you were right in front of him nearly everyday. It was not the lustful, craving kisses you two shared, it was a kiss expelling the torment causing his heart to flutter.

“Ghost? How copy?” His walkie that he tossed chimed, finally coming through clearly. They were minutes late—minutes that they could’ve helped you.

“Ghost, what’s your status?”

He didn’t dare take his eyes off your lifeless body, only wanting to savor the last bits of warmth your skin still had. His lips left yours, quivering in a way that hadn’t since he was a tormented child—something he’d never openly express to anyone.

He removed your head from his thigh, then placed your hand down gently, rising to his unsteady feet.

He looked down at the blood coating his hands and the fabric of his trousers, the way it ran down his fingers and onto his sleeve—it made his skin crawl.

“Ghost, do you copy?”

His head pivots to the radio on the ground. His lip tightens in frustration when he hears the callout. The emotions he’s having all stewing inside him all at once—it’s too much.

He picks up the radio and projects it onto the ground, hearing each piece of it shatter at his feet.

His fists clench at his sides as he looks at you one more time, with you remaining in the same limp position he left you in. The sounds of your agony echoed within him, the feeling of your skin turning cold when he sat there long enough, the fabric of his balaclava now saturated with his own tears.

“I’m sorry.” His words felt void against the emptiness of the degradation surrounding him.

It was a phrase he uttered to you multiple times before,

a phrase he’d never be able to tell you enough,

a phrase you’d never be able to pardon him for again.

[Alternate Ending]

TAGLIST: @neoarchipelago @ghostlythots @gothgirl6-6-6 @cloudyyjanee @ladyelissarose @almightywdm @glitterypirateduck @brokenghostgirl1 @a-jupiter-n-mars-blog @liliumbosniacum (IT WONT LET ME TAG SOME OF U GUYS SORRY)

[enchantedchocolatebars]

An Opportunity To Change

Inspired by this comic here.

Tagging: @talisman975.

Luz watched with uncaring eyes as her enemy's slime started to form and assemble into a form much smaller than his original one.

As soon as she saw a broken little boy wearing a mask appear before her, Luz's serious expression quickly turned into one of shock.

Her dark pupils, surrounded by gold irises, immediately widen, taken aback by Belos's choice to come into view that way.

'Why did he choose to take on that form?' she wondered.

'Why didn't he just turn back into an old man?'

Given his current state, she was unsure about his ability to control what he turned into.

"... It's not fair," she heard him utter in a low, venomous growl.

His voice resembled that of a small child as Philip held his fists tightly while on the ground, his body starting to quaver.

"It's not fair," he slowly said, repeating his statement.

As Luz continued to stare down at him, she sent Belos a glare.

'This has to be a trick,' she told herself to keep from feeling any smidge of sympathy for him.

She was completely repulsed by his behavior.

'He's lied to me countless times before. What's stopping him from doing so again?'

Luz wouldn't fall for this childish act that Belos was clearly trying to pull.

"It's just not! None of it is! It's not fair!" Philip roared, rage emitting from his voice.

"I just wanted him back!" he reveals through his shouts, slamming his fists onto the ground in pure frustration as he continues his tirade.

He threw his mask off.

"YOU-!!" he squeezes his eyes shut as tears spill from his glands, his fists clenching tighter.

"YOU TOOK HIM FROM ME!" Philip screams, directing his accusation at various factors, but more specifically at the witch who took his brother away, who was no longer alive to hear him.

Speaking of Caleb, that's the only person he can currently think about and see in his mind as memories of them living peacefully together in Gravesfield begin to play.

...

"It's going to be fine, I promise," Caleb had told Philip, who had an unsure expression on his face.

The blonde then tried his best to shine a smile that didn't look too forced. "We will get through this together, Pip."

...

"With this mask," Caleb began, his voice trailing with playfulness as he smirked, slipping the brown mask he had carved for his brother on.

"Witches are going to be afraid of you!" he beams, his triumphant tone filled with heroism and a sense of eeriness while holding up a claw hand.

Philip started to giggle.

He loved his new gift.

...

"They're doing another witch hunt!" Philip, now a preteen, exclaimed with great excitement as he quickly approached his brother while holding his mask.

"Please take part in it with me, Caleb!"

However, Caleb didn't seem to have the same enthusiasm for the hunt as Philip did.

"Oh- I'll sit this one out," the blonde told him, troubled by the news.

Philip's excitement quickly waned, leading to a sad expression.

"... But we always go together," he whispered, slipping on his mask to hide his tearful expression.

Caleb felt bad about his decision to decline the offer, but then a smirk appeared on his face.

"What. You still scared of going alone, Pip?" he asked, causing Philip to quake with anger.

"I'm not!" he shouts, greatly offended by the teasing. He then releases a huff. "Fine! I'll go by myself!"

"You'll be fine!" Caleb said with a chuckle as he watched Philip walk off.

...

"All of you witches...," Philip spat, glaring at Luz with tears in his eyes. "You can't win... I won't let you!"

...

".. Caleb?" Philip quietly said as he turned around to see his brother sneaking off into the woods.

He decides to follow him, leaving behind the mob of townspeople who are going in the opposite direction, holding their pitchforks and torches high in the air.

...

Crouching behind a bush, Philip silently watches Caleb have a sincere conversation with the same wicked witch he had warned his brother to stay away from.

He suspected that the two were secretly seeing each other.

...

"You took him," Philip murmured, looking down at the ground.

...

Philip watched his brother leave through the portal doorway and removed his mask, revealing his crestfallen face.

Holding out his hand, he prayed desperately for his brother to come back.

...

"Because he never would have..." Philip finally collapsed to the ground, his fists still clenched in agony.

"Left me," he whispered to himself, silently crying.

The sight of Belos broken like this left Luz speechless.

She soon realized that he wasn't trying to manipulate her with tears, as the tears racing down his cheeks were genuine, and so was the dejected state he was in.

Although it was strange to witness Belos crying, Luz understood that he was a human just like her.

He was still salvageable, right?

"Hey," she began in a stern but soft voice, causing Philip to look up to see her offering him a hand.

"Listen, people are bad, and you're probably the worst of the worst after everything you've done..."

Philip growled at her as he sniffled.

"But," she sighed.

"They can always improve. No one is destined for evil, not even you. It's never too late to change. So, what do you say?"

Inhaling saliva at the back of his throat, Philip attempted to spit at Luz, only for said spit to land on his cheek.

"Ugh!" he snarled, furiously wiping away at his face with his sleeve.

Luz frowned at this. "Dude, I'm trying to offer you a second chance here. You should really take it."

She could have easily had Eda, Raine, and King just step on him for his refusal.

"And you should really just die," Philip grumbled.

Luz had to refrain from calling him multiple swear words in Spanish.

"You mentioned someone while you were crying. A he. I'm gonna assume this dude meant a lot to you based on how you talked about him, and probably still does. Would you at least be willing to change for him? I'm sure he'd want you to," Luz told him.

'Caleb...,' Philip thought to himself.

He had so much regret inside for ending his brother's life as well as the lives of his Grimwalkers.

'How could such a close, brotherly bond end in flames and bloodshed?'

Would taking Luz's hand and offer for change cleanse him of the sins of his past?

Although Philip was uncertain, there was only one way to find out.

He sighs and extends his hand to Luz, silently expressing his desire to improve.

It will take time and hard work, but he wants it.

He wants to be better.

A small smile appears on Luz's lips as she helps him up from the ground.

[cricketnationrise]

For the followers' fic fest!

6:58 AM, Kensington Palace, Philip Fox-Mountchristen Windsor. I'm not sure about the song but I'm thinking Are You Bored Yet? by Wallow ft. Clairo for the vibes so feel free to use it! (You don't have to tho /gen)

Another first for me, Philip POV! I hadn't heard the song before this ask, but it's going into regular rotation now! Anyway, I hope you like your ficlet! 💜🦗

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

6:58am, kensington

“Mmm…Ph'lip? Why’re you already awake?”

Martha blinks blearily at him from where she’s half-sprawled on his chest. Bollocks. All his shifting around must have woken her up. Philip sighs, puts on half a mask of normalcy.

“No reason. Go back to sleep, darling.” He drops a kiss on the top of her head. “We don’t have to be up for another hour.”

“No, I’m awake enough. Come now, what’s wrong? You’re never up this far before your alarm.”

“Nothing.”

“Pish posh.”

“Martha.”

“I’m still half asleep, but I know utter rot when I hear it. Now spill.”

“I don't have an answer—” 

Martha starts to push upright. “Philip, I swear to—”

“Well, not one I can give you,” he admits. 

“How come?” 

And the truth is that the thing that’s bothering him, that has kept him up all night, it’s so big he can’t even look at it head on; has to resort to sideways glances. The whole is too overwhelming. But Martha makes everything better—everything. So maybe, a moment of bravery on his part will let her soothe this hurt, this howling thing inside him, as well. He takes a deep breath and exhales hard before speaking.

“The man that—the one that slept with H-henry. When he was underage.”

“From his letters?” Martha’s always been quick on the uptake, always willing to follow his wandering thoughts.

He nods. “I can’t get that line out of my head. It seems such a small detail, almost casual for Henry, but for me—”

“It rewrites a large part of your worldview.”

“Yes.”

There’s a long silence as they both sit with that idea. Martha plays with the buttons on his pajama top. Philip takes the back of her collar between his fingers, rubbing the soft neckline like a worry stone.

“Martha?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you think it was one of my friends?” He has no reason to doubt Henry’s words, just a desperate desire to have not contributed, even in passing, to his brother’s suffering.

“Truthfully?”

“Yes, please. If you tell me the truth I won't have to lie to myself anymore.”

“I think you already know the answer, love,” she says gently.

“Martha, please.” The just tell me doesn’t need to be spoken for her to understand. 

“Yes, Philip. I think it's true.”

For all he’d known, for all he’d been subconsciously bracing himself for the words, Martha’s confirmation is sharp pain, a cold knife in the pit of his stomach. Philip can’t quite keep the wet, shaky breath from escaping his throat.

“Oh, darling, it’s alright.”

In a heartbeat, Martha’s sitting upright and pulling Philip into her lap, combing her fingers through his hair as he fights to keep the tears at bay. 

“I’m fine.”

Martha snorts softly. “I’ve known you how long now? I can see you aren’t fine.”

“I can't—”

“Just tell me how you’re feeling. We’re all alone, no one to interrupt or pull you into meetings for at least forty minutes. So just tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help get through this. You’ve been holding it all together for so long. You’re allowed to let go sometimes.”

“Martha, I—”

“Let me in, Pippy.” He’s so caught in the storm of his feelings that Philip can’t even muster the customary glare at the heinous nickname.

“I just. I feel so lost. Unmoored. There’s so much I don't know about my own brother. I don’t know what happens now. What happens next.” 

“You don't have to have all the answers, love.”

“I just don't know where we’re going.”

She brushes his bangs back from his forehead. “That's alright.”

“Its not—”

“It is. You’re not as alone as you think you are. If you’d let me, I’d like to be right next to you. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

And Philip—

Philip believes her.

[cerealboxlore]

WIP #4: Captain Marvel The Animated Series (written)

Episode One: Welcome To Fawcett I

Freddy sat down in the booth across from Billy Batson, surprised by the softness of the seats as he practically sank into them. He took in the decoration of the diner with awe, recognizing the old interior design from pages of history books and old television shows. Looking around, a lot of the photos on the walls were in color, but most of them were in the classic black-and-white style that hadn't aged a day, along with the people in them. The radio on the counter of the kitchen window was playing an old tune, one that Freddy recognized as his grandfather's favorite! He was so enchanted by the vintage nature of the place that he hadn't noticed Billy ordering milkshakes for the both of them. If Freddy hadn't snapped back to reality when their drinks were brought to the table, he was sure he would have been there for hours.

"Wow! You know, I heard that Fawcett was frozen in time for like, decades, but it doesn't really hit you until you get here. The architecture, the people, the whole vibes of everything you all have around here just scream old-timey. No wonder my grandpa wanted to move here, haha-oh, wait! I didn't mean that as an insult, trust me! Fawcett has a good thing going for them. I just need some getting used to it, that's all." Freddy's nervous laughter eased down, as he wiped away the sweat rolling down his face. He was naturally popular in school and around the other kids, as Billy saw firsthand, but actually making friendships and connections with people took more effort than just being a pretty face. Freddy knew that. He just hoped he wouldn't bite his tongue or say the wrong thing as the new kid in town. A kid from the modern day around kids from the past? Yeah, that was for sure going to go great. "I just need to get used to being in this town...it's all new to me." His voice waivered above a whisper at the end, an unsure look in his eyes telling Billy that there was more going on than on the surface.

Billy took in the nervous expression and behavior Freddy was showing, trying to think of a way to calm him down. During school, he could tell that Freddy needed some fresh air and time to think about his move to Fawcett without being bombarded by all the other kids who kept asking him questions. Billy also knew that Freddy moved to Fawcett because of rather...unfortunate reasons, after hearing the rumors that spread around the school, like wildfire, during lunch. He didn't want Freddy to associate Fawcett with negative emotions, thus, the reason for inviting him to Philip's Diner.

"No, it's alright, you don't have to worry about anything, Freddy. Fawcett folk here understand the odd looks we get from the rest of the world." Billy chuckled, taking another sip of his milkshake with a smile. He didn't get the chance to drink these very often, so the moment he saw the chance to have one again with his new friend, Freddy Freeman, Billy seized the opportunity. Honestly, he never treated himself to anything nice unless someone else was tagging along or if the main reason was in consideration of another. Always the money saver, that kid. "You know, being the new kid in town, being the new town in the world, it's not so different once you think about it. The Fawcett Freeze may have set us back, but we're more than eager to catch up with the rest of the world and stand tall! I promise you, you'll do just fine around here, you just need some time to adjust and breathe the air, and you're free to take all the time you need, we've got plenty of that here. So, even if you stumble or fumble some steps, I've got your back!" Billy shined a bright smile on Freddy, who seemed at a loss for a brief moment.

Before Billy could be concerned about the silence, however, Freddy reached a hand out to the boy. Freddy had his doubts and worries about Fawcett, and his place in this town, but after hearing Billy speak so easily to him without any problem, he felt a little stronger.

Freddy felt...calmer.

"Well, if you say so, Billy," Freddy sighed out, grinning. "I'll take your word that Fawcett rocks and I'll take a chance on being here. I can tell already that you're gonna be a great friend!" The two kids shook hands, feeling a strong bond forming between them. Maybe they'd be good friends for a long time. "But, I doubt I'm ever going to stumble or fumble like you said. I've got the best pair of running legs a baseball field has ever seen!"

"Let's put that to the test then, Freeman! Finish your shake in a quick second and I'll take you over to the local baseball field here. The one over by Sherman Street is great for games!"

"Don't gotta tell me twice, Batson!" Freddy shouted excitedly in response. The change in mood seemed to do him some good.

The two boys then chugged their milkshakes like a couple of starving raccoons, sprinting out the door as soon as Billy paid their bill.

Had the boys left a few seconds later, they would have heard the breaking news alert on the radio, alerting the public to Dr. Sivana's recent escape.

@wolfsbanesparks (Merry Christmas! Hope you like this WIP!)

[nooneelsecomesclose17]

Sharing this…whatever this is. I haven’t written anything for over a year and it’s scary writing for a different fandom so this is the start of something…we’ll see.

Alex looked up from the screen as he heard David’s paws tapping against the parquet floor of the music room. Ever since what the palace called his first official visit he’d used this as his base for working. At home back in Brooklyn he and Henry had always kept work out of their bedroom and he was determined it would be no different in England, so here he was hunched over a desk that’s probably older than most of DC trying to find a precedent for the case that was looming ever closer, along with the prospect of having to leave Henry, and their son, this side of the Atlantic if the crown didn’t relinquish their hold before then.

The trial date had been set long before they had gotten the call in the dead of night, Shaan’s grave voice informing Alex that Queen Mary had died. He won’t deny the sigh of relief that had left his lips when he heard, knowing that she could no longer hurt any of them. Despite that, despite everything, Henry had been upset, not the kind of upset that Alex had been when his abuela had died just before his fifteenth birthday, but the kind where you grieve for the person she used to be. He’d often told Alex that when Henry had been little she’d been kinder, never homely like his Nana Fox but not the spiteful woman she’d become.

But it had meant the three of them, four with David, having to up sticks and move across the Atlantic for at least a month, throwing Arthur’s routine into chaos, not to mention Alex having to conduct all his meetings over zoom. But, as his mom had said when he called to complain late one night when Henry was sleeping, needs must. So he’d taken part in all the pomp, hadn’t complained all that much when the courtiers conveniently forgot to include him in plans, when various distant family members looked at him just that way, had just been by Henry’s side, seeing him through just like they always did for each other.

Henry’s face softened as soon as he saw him, the tension he always carried whenever he was at Buckingham seeping away at the door the second his fingers carded through David’s fur. “Have you been good for Alex, huh? More to the point, has he been good for you?”

“Excuse you. Rude.” He protested, arms already winding round Henry’s waist, letting him lean in, the last bit of tension gone.

“A valid question, more like. Are you making progress love?”

“Maybe. I won’t know until I get into court, but I’m done worrying about that for today. Where’s the kid? You didn’t give in to playing hide and seek again did you?” Henry rolls his eyes but it’s not without reason that Alex asks. On Pez’s last visit Arthur had convinced he and Henry to play and with the countless rooms in Kensington Palace at a little boy’s disposal it had taken Pez, and both sets of secret service agents and PPOs to find him.

“He’s with Bea, no doubt diminishing my stash of Jaffa cakes as we speak. Daddy can’t compete with Auntie Bea and chocolate. She said she’d bring him back before dinner.” He flops down into the nearest chair. “God what a day. How stupid I was to think that Philip might just be different when Gran was gone.”

[handsome-john]

Perception - Philip Deering stands in the middle of the hallway, mopping the floor, which is his job after all. Most people know to side step him and stay out of his way. He occasionally mumbles a few words to his 'friend' in the water's reflection.

Suggestion - You'd like to talk to him. You're more similar than you'd like to believe.

Logic - You want to know more about yourself, more about us if anything. His insight might be of some help to you.

Rhetoric - it doesn't have to be a big deal, just say something.

You - "Hi."

P. Deering - "Hi?"

Rhetoric - okay, say a little more than that.

You - "How do you deal with it?"

P. Deering - "Huh?"

You - "You know, it-" you make a vague gesture towards 'Doug'. "Its constant talking?"

Perception - the mirror monster's mouth moves slowly, speaking words only Deering can hear.

Inland Empire [Impossible: Failure] - I couldn't even begin to guess.

P. Deering - He shrugs. "I just got used to it."

Inland Empire - there's more to it than that, 20 years of constant companionship and you're bound to grow comfortable with anything.

You - "I've been hearing you fucks for twice that and I'm not comfortable with shit."

Empathy - Deering looks at you with cold indifference, which is slightly more than the vitriol you're used to.

Rhetoric - Get to the point, please.

You - "I hear voices sometimes."

Reaction Speed - He blanches.

Half Light [Formidable: Failure] - oh this sucks.

You - "I said that weird. Uh- god why is this so hard." You knock your knuckles against your forehead.

Empathy - you're making him uncomfortable.

You - "You're all so helpful today."

Logic - Take a deep breath and try again.

Half Light - or leave. Leaving is an option.

You - "I'm kind of always hearing voices, God knows they won't shut up. I've heard them since I was a little kid and there's always more of them I swear."

P. Deering - "Okay... Why are you telling me this?"

Suggestion [Trivial: Failure] - why are you telling him this?

You - "Because- you've been dealing with this freak for 2 decades now and you seem to handle it so well. I can't even rein in one of these voices."

P. Deering - He stays quiet for several minutes before breaking into laughter.

Empathy [Medium: Success] - he's not laughing at you.

P. Deering - "Sorry - sorry. You're the first person who's ever described me as handling anything well. What are your- uh- voices like?"

Rhetoric - this is good, he's listening at least.

Drama - spill your woes to him, sire, show our genuinity!

Suggestion - keep it chill though, don't freak him out.

You - "They won't shut up." You laugh, self deprecatingly. "There's a lot of them. They're not mean- well some are but not all of them. They just... Say anything. It's like my entire life has a commentary track that I can talk back to."

P. Deering - He nods. You're not sure what that means.

You - "I guess I thought - you know with your- that thing - you'd have some advice? For getting used to the voices?"

P. Deering - "Only you would come to me for advice." He pauses. "I guess- i dunno, I'm not real good at this..."

Empathy - he's worried about saying something wrong and letting you down.

You - "it's fine- I think I more just- needed to say something, and you seem like you'd get it."

P. Deering - he smiles. "Well- I guess I'm glad i was- comforting? To you? This is weird - you're not weird I'm weird."

You - you chuckle awkwardly. "No- you can say I'm weird. I'll take it."

Espirt De Corps - I think they call a mutual understanding.

You - "Where the fuck did you come from?"

[mamalunawolf]

Types of Carry and Kisses

Call of duty men

Ft. Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Alex, Graves. All under the cut.

(Anyone else. Please request. Also. Please please. If this is already done. Let me know and I’ll delete it.)

Ghost:

Simon is the type of man who knows what he wants. Also, he isn’t into physical touch unless it’s his woman. So he can either be gentle or dominating. Who knows. His kisses, are sensual. Passionate. When he really loves you. He loves you fully. He doesn’t want anything to happen to you. When he carries you. For being a military man he’s always known to carry somebody on his back if they’re either injured or dead. So of course he’s going be lifting you on his back. And don’t worry, he’ll carry over the threshold the right way.

Price

Ah..John Price. This man knows what he wants. Always. He is smart. A Captain. He has known so much his whole life. So when he kisses you. It’s like he means it. On the neck, shoulder. Anywhere his lips can touch. And his beard to tickle. Now when he carries you. I hope you didn’t do anything to get him all angry or wild on you. Because he don’t care. He’ll throw you over your shoulder, smack your pretty ass and leave. And let me tell you. The end results are worth it.

Soap

Johnny MacTavish..well the man speaks for himself. Total dom. We know it. Have you heard his growls. He is vicious. Likes to stay clean fully. And knows how to do his job. Literally. Like, Simon. He loves to give those French kisses. Sloppy and wet. He needs to taste you. Scottish knows it. He will eat your face. And when he carries you. He will carry you like a princess, because you deserve to be treated like one. Spoiled rotten.

Gaz

Kyle Garrick is someone who is childish but also mature. His kisses are tender and affectionate. Showing his devotion to you. You have his whole heart. He means it. Really. When he carries you, he will piggyback ride. Let you on his back and take you anywhere through the base. He will help you go bother the Captain while you still hold your cup of coffee.

Graves

Philip graves is a bad boy. And some of us like bad boys. It’s okay. This man loves surprises. He will kiss you anywhere when he feels likes it. In public or in private. But he also likes to keep them short, sensual, and hot. And carrying, he would carry you around like a duffel bag. Or princess hold. He wants to be close to you. And if you behave like a brat, be prepared to be thrown over his shoulder and taken somewhere private for a chat.

Alex

For his special someone. He likes it slow and gentle. Where time slows down and it’s just you two. He wants to be tender and affectionate but also wants to make you weak to the knees when he gives it to you. Like Gaz, he will give you piggyback rides around. He loves it and wants to spend time with you anyway he sees fit. And on really good days, you’ll be surprised to get thrown over his shoulder and taken to his room. Just to cuddle you against his chest.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

15k Words (2) Masterlist

part one

A-Lister (ao3) - tastefulcucumber

Summary: Phil’s Dad owns a small photography business. Daniel Howell, academy-award winning actor decides that Lester’s Portraits is the best place to get his head-shots for his portfolio. He expects to get his pictures taken, but what he doesn’t expect is the photographer’s son to be so captivating. No one else has treated Dan this normal since the beginning of his acting career. Maybe that’s just what Dan needs, a friend who is there for him, and not for his status.

A Little Bit Of Magic - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan is the new potions teacher at Hogwarts and is muggleborn, this is his first year teaching and whilst he’s excited, he has to get used to being in the castle with absolutely no muggle technology. Phil is the herbology teacher and is clumsy and likes puns and likes to help Hagrid with his magical creatures. Dan and Phil eventually meet and become rather close, some of the students realize this and try to get them together before the end up of the year.

Amaryllis (ao3) - bokeae

Summary: In which Dan has to wed Princess Alice when he would much rather marry her brother, Philip.

Ardour (There’s a World Outside These Walls) (ao3) - centroid

Summary: Dan’s facade crumbled. His breathing was the first to go, leaving his lungs with short gasps of air. He brought his hands up to press the heels of his palms into his eye sockets as tears trekked down his cheeks. Dan’s romantic life was always covered in a veil of sorrow, but never once had he cried over it. Never once did he let his walls down and just weep. Dan was relieved, so relieved but at the same time he was in despair. It was as if his fate had been set in stone, finalizing that he was and would forever be alone. In a world with its foundation dug heel toe into romance, he was someone who had to go without.

billet-doux (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: Dan and Phil, gang leaders and rivals to the highest degree, harbor big secrets they want no one to see

Coffee and Calligraphy (ao3) - brookwrites

Summary: Dan’s a barista at the local cafe, where writer!Phil decides to sit with his journal. Dan likes Phil. A lot. But things change when Dan finds something out about Phil that breaks his heart.

Colour Me Blue (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: What if a boy, whose heart was so full of darkness, that he couldn’t believe in colours anymore, met someone so full of light who slowly painted his world bright again?

Demons In My Head (ao3) - kae_karo

Summary: An unconscious demon mysteriously shows up on Dan's property, and Dan heals it, promising he'll send it back to where it came from as soon as he finds out why it's there. Finding the will to banish a charming demon is harder than he thought.

for you I’d wait (til kingdom come) (ao3) - blueshirt

Summary: The time that Dan misunderstands one little conversation—which he still maintains is PHIL’S FAULT, not his—and it leads to six years of unrequited pining.

going the wrong way home (ao3)- moonlightmusings

Summary: the almost-college au where dan and phil take a summer road trip.

I heard the March birds singing, and oh, what a beautiful sound. (ao3) - emonerd_io

Summary: Inspired by the anime 四月は君の嘘 (Your Lie in April)!

The piano initiated the opening chords, and she drew the melody out in simple, yet alluring and complex lines. It’s a tune Dan did not recognise, but fell in love with immediately. Deep, and filled with a certain longing, yet tragically beautiful. It’s the type of music that allows you to fathom why exactly some people practise for years and for decades, trying to master their craft, just to play something so modest and stark, yet so exquisite.

This is the story of two young musicians, Dan and Phil, and how their lives became entwined over the course of one year in high school.

In Faded Holograms They Speak (ao3) - artdeficient

Summary: They’re in japan and nothing seems to make sense, so they hide in hotel rooms and pretend they can’t see what’s right in front of them, and it works, for a while. (badlands au based off of halsey’s album)

no longer feel alone (ao3) - natigail

Summary: who'd have known that a random act of kindness from a stranger could lead to this.

refraction (ao3) - indistinct_echo

Summary: (To be read after completing Monochrome by intoapuddle.)

Dan doesn’t want to wait any longer: it’s time to share with Angie and PJ his Fall Whisperer identity. This really isn’t so scary… oh, who is he kidding, it’s terrifying.

Cue supportive-boyfriend Phil, amateur-therapist Dan, and a healthy dose of luck (+ bonus smut).

Teach Me to Fly (ao3) - thesleepdeprived

Summary: Soulmates!AU, Wings!AU. People had always told him that wings were the solution to everything, the key to your love life, your friend circle, who you are as a person, even. Yet somehow, Phil just can’t bring himself to see it that way. Who would want a soulmate that would never fly? (or, as my planning outline so eloquently puts it, kiss kiss fall in love you emotionally repressed motherfuckers) COMPLETE

These Violent Delights Of Love (ao3) - cyanica

Summary: Dan is hopelessly in love, Phil’s seemingly oblivious and they’re on a world tour just to make things more chaotic.

And yet, the Gods, or the Ruler of the Universe, or whoever the hell was in charge decided Dan needed to die in the end, too. Currently, leaning over the porcelain throne of shit and piss was the Gods’ human voodoo doll, throwing up the contents of his unfortunate Indian dinner – and significantly more alarming than that: black tulips. Fucking flowers. This wasn’t real life.

waiting to be found (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan and Phil meet at a club.

(And then a coffee shop.)

Who’s Taking You Home Tonight? (ao3) - whatkindoffanfics (orphan_account)

Summary: October, 1944. While World War II rages on, Dan Howell finds himself thrown into the secretive world of Bletchley Park, a headquarters for intercepting and breaking the codes of encrypted German messages.

[drabbles-of-writing]

Have you made any new aus you want to talk about?

I'm never immune to actor aus for some reason I cannot explain for the life of me. But this is where I am, and I am in a death grip. The Owl House but it's live action acting and the actors have the weirdest connections to other people. Because this is MY silly little au and I make the rules here

Luz has mostly done theater and a small handful of musicals, but she has two film roles where she was a background/minor character. Bit of a jump to go from that to main character, but, hey, the original budget is pretty cheap. Most of the funding went into the magic. She's just happy to be here. May or may not have gotten a genuine crush on the girl she was already pre-scrpited to date.

Eda is where the rest of the funding went. Expensive ass actress quite well-known in the industry, has been acting since she was a little younger than Luz, most known for her roles of chaotic characters. She liked this role, but was mostly just here for the paycheck. Luz didn't have to act very hard to look excited with Eda during shooting, she was thrilled. Eda wound up enjoying her role a lot more than expected.

King is Eda's actual adopted kid, though he's roughly about ten, not eight or nine, and Eda found him at about ate 2-3 just. Roaming around some dumpsters. Technically speaking he doesn't legally exist, but that ain't about to stop her. He wasn't supposed to be on set, but while discussing people to voice act the puppet blended with animation that King is on the show, Eda jokingly asked her kid if he was interested, and turns out he was. He gets along well with Luz and the other younger kid actors.

Belos is acted by a guy just named Philip, who is also very well-known, and is the kind of actor all of your parents/grandparents seem to know, but you've barely heard of, or don't think twice about. He's usually been cast as one of those snooty, uptight academic characters, going from The Handsome Teacher(tm) to The Grouchy Guy(tm) from his earlier years to his current ones. He's used to dealing with teenage actors, but he likes to pretend he isn't. The kind of guy who can almost never get through the first take of pretty much any scene with Hunter without breaking character like "I can't--I'm sorry, we can do that again--are you okay? Are you sure--"

Hunter himself is the adopted older brother of Luz, and has been acting for far less time, since about 13. He's gotten a few school theater plays beforehand, plus a minor one in a short film, but that was about it until then. He skyrocketed VERY quickly because of his ability to act emotional scenes alarmingly well. All of his breakdowns on the show were difficult to get through because there was almost always a moment where someone on set was genuinely concerned something went wrong in the middle of the scene. This is partly why Philip breaks character more often than normal

[ziracona]

So with my second read-through of my favorite chapters I think I finally figured out that Julie was essentially just dissassociating the whole time, or did I read that wrong? Also for the legion im curious if things will go differently than ILM did, speaking of which- Would Julie and Frank have caved and joined the survivors eventually? What do you think really would have convinced them?

More or less, although not like in a way where she doesn’t know what is going on. I think she just lightly dissociates constantly. She’s got a personality disorder, but she lies if I try to figure out which one. 🤷🏻‍♀️ So. I know how she behaves but not why. She’s very aware, she just…’unplugs’ as it were, from feeling it, so it’s easier to do, and has for years. Even the fun parts. That’s why she harps so much on things Frank says being nice because he talks about her like she’s a ‘real person’ or a ‘whole person.’ She’s very self aware. She knows she is not normal. She just chooses mostly not to think about that. Girl represses everything, always. Her brain is plugged in, her feelings are off, and so is any reasoning she doesn’t want to do.

Yes. Every timeline ends differently, especially for the realm killers and the Entity. NDF, ILM, FtEoNR, and HL (even ODE) would have some very significant changes. Some things always stay, the strongest ties as it were, like Nea and Min finding each other, but the ones more up to chance remain…butterfly effected.

But on to the exciting answer! (For me). A chance to talk about the chapter that never was for ILM! The answer is yes, they would have joined not long after the events of Oak, if the Entity hadn’t pushed a confrontation with Philip. I considered letting the story run longer to include the newest two releases (Yui and ST, I believe?). If I had, there would have been a chapter called Pheidippides that I was deeply fond of, and don’t think I’ve ever gotten to talk about before. Essentially, the short summary was the Clown ended up in an area beside Legion, and lured one of them (Julie) in with audio recorded bait. She got caught and tortured, with Joey swapping with her to protect her. The Clown tried to force him to switch back, because he prefers doing what he does to girls, and Joey refused. Using drugs on them to try and force him fucked them up, and made them temporarily lose the ability to switch back and forth, trapping Joey in the body. Jeff heard things going on, and attempted to help, and ended up trapped too, then got severely injured trying to draw fire off Joey. Eventually, drugs wear off enough Frank and Susie are able to swap and she (thin wrists) tag teams to get an arm free, and he stabs the Clown through the ear with a scalpel and kills him (outside a trial).

Frank immediately flips out and calls the Entity to be like “control your fucking killers what the hell?!? Two of us are in critical condition, and this survivor is one missed ER from dead!” But the Entity’s concern is immediately recovering its favorite killer, Kenneth, who was not insured at the moment, so it ejects them from Kenneth’s realm and makes it closed off while it tries to fix it. Frank keeps shouting about it needing to fix them them, which he can’t do because they’re in one body and thus can’t treat each other, so it just rips them back into four and basically tells him to fix it himself, and vanishes to rescue the Clown.

Frank and Susie are left mostly unharmed, with a traumatized and injured Julie, and a more severely injured and traumatized Joey, and an almost dead Jeff who has been getting tortured for them for the last hour. They have no medical supplies or experience, the Entity won’t come, everyone is going completely breakdown. The survivors have meds and expertise, and since Jeff entered Kenneth’s realm, while that’s impassible, it means the survivors /must/ be one away from them, with the ST Lab and Demogorgons, in the way.

Frank realizes Jeff’s only hope of survival is getting through the lab, to the survivors, and bringing them back. It’s the only way to help Joey and Julie either, who while not actively dying, are sincerely fucked. But they despise and won’t listen to him, so he can’t be the one to do it. He might get killed on sight. They’ll think it’s a trap. They won’t beleive. Which means Susie /has/ to. She’s the only one they’ll not hurt, and might believe. She’s terrified to do it, but going to, alone, but he tells her he’s not going to make her do it alone. He’ll go to protect her, and they’ll do it together.

They leave Julie and Joey to recuperate and try to care for Jeff best and long as they can, and then, knowing death outside a game is death for them (and this is a hell of a risk—they’re tough, but in the end they’re young adults with small knives, vs well, the destructive power of a demogorgon, and ILM verse while there’s only one demogorgon per trial, there are many in the Lab, so the lab is a death zone), and their odds are bad but there is just no other way, they together make a mad dash through the lab to the other side to get help.

And yeah I loved that idea it didn’t end up working for the over-arching narrative flow but maybe someday I’ll find a way to reuse it.

They would have become solid and continuing allies after the event, given the length of the Entity fucking them over, and survivors risking themselves to help. They’re flawed people, but they love their own deeply and sincerely. (Which is the exact situation the Entity is working to avoid during the events of NDF)

[nickyroethemarinebiologist]

My BBC ghosts ocs!!

(In order from the oldest to the youngest)

TW: slight gore descriptions??

Original versions

Basic story premise

Roan (he/him): A caveman, died from a disease in his late 20s/early 30s, doesn't speak much and prefers to talk with his hands or in noises, or with simpler words if at all (he's not stupid!! They're just easier), absolutely LOVES dinosaurs, wishes he could have seen one, no powers!

Cornelius (he/him): Roman soldier who died in 83 AD ish, mid 20s, he died to his own dagger after an accident in battle, very stupid, very close with Philip, no powers!

Maud (she/her): Villager from the 1300s, in her 30s, died from a lack of air after being shut in the basement of her house (an accident, of course), speaks very rarely or very quietly, likes birds, mostly keeps to herself, her power is that her breathing can be heard by the living

Philip (he/him): 17th century highwayman, late 20s, died while on the run from the authorities when he fell into a ditch and broke his neck (it's embarrassing for him though, so he just tells everyone he was executed instead), he's a bastard (affectionate), no powers!

Hattie (she/her): A maid, died in 1822 after her food was poisoned, in her 40s, very loud, critical, outspoken, etc, has cool aunt vibes, gives surprisingly great advice

Thomas (he/him): A chimney sweep from 1844, about 15/16 when he died, died from a sort of lung-related disease from all the chimney sweeping, can be rude or blunt but he's very well-meaning!! He just never really learned proper manners, really looks up to Francis, very grubby, he can leave sooty marks with his fingers (like writing and stuff)

Nellie (she/her): Upper class, drowned in 1912 after falling into the lake, is convinced she was pushed, in her 20s, used to be rich and is now very annoying about it, will sometimes act as if she's better than everyone...but she loves them really, Nellie is short for Eleanor, she's annoying (affectionate), ADORES cats, very protective of Maud, her reflection (in water, but maybe also mirrors) can be seen by the living

Francis (he/him): A 20th century historian/archeologist, died of a heart attack caused by stress and exhaustion, in his 40s, mostly just tired and annoyed, asks Roan a whole BUNCH of questions, absolutely fed up of the afterlife, a little judgey, has a walking stick and will hit you with it

Michael (he/him): An electrician from the 80s, in his 30s, died from electrocution after an unfortunate accident, doesn't remember much about his death (or life), pretty forgetful but very sweet, cheerful wingman sort of vibes, a little naïve, mostly just goes along with what people tell him, always up for pranks or shenanigans, can sort of manipulate electricity in that he can give people little shocks and he made the whole house lose power at one point