#a deep misunderstanding

[egophiliac]

I'm surprised STYX didn't even think about waking up the teachers. Except for Crowley, they would have tried to help

they actually do bring that up in 7-13! we don't get to see their dreams, but they mention that STYX has woken up the staff members and is having them help wake up the rest of the students + island residents (in the 'still in the dreamworld but mentally awake' way, I don't think anyone was physically able to wake up until Mal dropped the spell?)

Idia's the one calling most of the shots right now though, and he left them out of his attack plan on purpose because he knew they'd be concerned about little things like "endangering student lives" and "this is not a plan so much as an ill-thought-out series of ideas" and "you are a literal teenager, I don't think you should be in charge of figuring out how to deal with this global emergency situation". it's like they don't even CARE about how cool it looks when Phantom Ortho rocket-punches Malleus in the face. 😔

[noxcheshire]

I think I’d be really funny, if Bruce was a reincarnated Vlad.

This is going to be based off of a prompt I saw (I will find you) where Bruce suddenly remembered his past life as Vlad.

HOWEVER, my take on that is the de-aged Ellie and Dan because the amount of ANGST and self hate that Bruce will go through thinking his past self was not only a villain, but also that sort of person?

It will eat him alive.

It will eat that man alive every time he goes to sleep and another burst of memories pass underneath his eyelids.

It burns him when he wakes up with the phantom touch of a body underneath his hands, of a boy just as young as Damian and thinner too, struggling to escape a grip of a man whose hold was too possessive, and too cruel.

It feels like acid swishing down his throat when he wakes with the taste of oily words filled with threat and something more whispered over the form of a boy. A young boy whose blue eyes blazed furiously back and yet tried to hide the quiet bursts of fear underneath.

It feels like Bruce cannot scrub the man he had been right out of him, even when his skin blisters red until it bleeds. Vladimir Masters had woken spitting and screaming, burrowed like a cold sore underneath everything that is Bruce.

Bruce hates it.

Hates the monster he had once been and still is — because despite the fact Vlad is now Bruce, living and breathing and existing here in Gotham — Vladimir Masters still exists.

He is out there right now in a little place called Amity Park, pulling weight and blood just to get what he wants.

A man who has used and abused for far too long…

Perhaps it was time to see to it, that however and whatever way that Bruce came to be, that it began with Vlad’s unfortunate circumstances back into the Ghost Zone.

[twig-tea]

Saw the director of Addicted Heroin Thailand had posted this on his Facebook account:

This man looked at the show that was the tipping point of the first big anti-gay censorship wave in China in the 2010s, and decided to remake it and intentionally self-censor, just to see if he could attract the "Chinese BL is superior because it doesn't rely on kisses or NC scenes to show the emotions" audience to Thai BL?

I am so mad about this.

[bonefall]

Clear Sky threw his son in front of a fox?!

YES!! He SHOVED him in front of a fox! It's in fury from the fact Thunder refused to kill Frost. This entire section is VERY poorly paced and glances over it in two paragraphs, so most people don't fully register it.

Clear Sky dragged Thunder down off the stump and shoves him at it, blaming him for bringing the fox to camp with his loud disobedience.

He then leaves Thunder to fight this fox on his own. Leaf and Falling Feather jump in to help him of their own accord. Clear Sky then tries to praise him for being strong and Thunder tells him to shove off for the first and last time.

It's not the last baby of his he knowingly and consciously endangers to prove a point. In Moth Flight's Vision, he refuses to allow Acorn Fur to get medical help for Tiny Branch's fox-inflicted injuries until his condition worsened, bellowing, "SkyClan does NOT ask for help unless there's no choice." AND didn't allow her to complete her training after he caused Micah's death.

Clear Sky is a serial child abuser. He is willfully neglectful, emotionally abusive, and physically violent.

[witchofthesouls]

I love the "humans into Cybertronians" trope, so we should have more work about the weirdness that's humanity, especially as an animal, and how it translates into their Cybertronian frame.

I mean, Earth is very much a Death Planet/Space Australia goes really well with the "Unicron is Earth" subplot. Might as well lean really into it.

Like tolerance to toxins and disease, so it's not just a wider range of possible substances to consume but even capable of figuring out how to prepare toxic ingredients into edible dishes that won't kill other Cybertronians as well as greater resistance towards certain pathogens as infectious disease a massive driving force when it comes to evolution. I think it would be fascinating to explore the effects of the genetic mutations transferring over, like how the very genes that increased survival with bubonic plague (Black Death) is capable of withstanding of the Cybertronian-equivalent, Rust Plague or Cosmic Rust. Funny enough, those mutations that allow that resistance to plague are also associated with developing autoimmune diseases such as Crohn's disease and rheumatoid arthritis.

So now, more potential storylines for disabilities and how they're perceived between humans and Cybertronians, especially how each side approaches it.

Transformation capabilities are incredibly important to them. It's deeply entwined in their cultural/societal framework, so a cyberformed!human with no T-cog is the disability to them.

Look at the massive difference between Ultra Magnus losing a hand versus Starscream and Bumblebee losing their T-cogs; physical disabilities have workarounds or even straight-up fixes as long there are enough resources (Breakdown's eyepatch and Ultra Magnus' claw).

It doesn't matter the training or capabilities. Agent Fowler's military record and June Darby's medical experience would be considered secondary as they're severely handicapped and more vulnerable compared to them. Then there are other angles to utilize of the biological and cultural differences, especially with the popular fandom idea of sparklings and canon Functionism, so would it really be a huge surprise if those cyberformed!humans were coddled or infantilized since humans barely last a single year in a Cybertronian lifetime? That has to be beyond frustrating on so many levels.

And vice versa, like imagine a humanized Megatron gets taken out by celiac disease or being severely lactose intolerant?

[raileurta]

Miko's wings

Have a good idea for a au. Miko when she first arrived in the US sees someone with a keychain tail, she thinks it's really interesting and asks about it. The stranger kindly explained to her how they bought it and why. This greatly interests Miko so researches it online; while looking so sees people even make horns, wigs, all types of stuff but the thing that catches her attention is people wearing wings. She really liked the aesthetic appeal of it so she decided to make own.

They are bat inspired and sewn onto a sleeveless jacket. She treats them like they are actually a part of her body and feels wrong if she doesn't wear them. (Can relate)

If someone were to make a comment about how it's not really attached she will try to gaslight them into believing her.

The bots not really knowing a lot about humans assume Miko wings are real and treat it as such. So one day after Miko sneaked onto another mission she obviously got caught in the crossfire and an attack from starscream meant for an autobot grazed her back. Besides from some minor burns she is pretty much injured but for some reason the autobots are looking at her like she just killed their puppy. Then she notices that she doesn't feel the familiar flap of weight turning on her back. When she takes a look behind her she sees that her wings are obligated. Bulkhead is beyond furious as a flyer himself he never thought starscream sink so low to take lanother's wings.

Among Cybertronians or more generally flyers it's considered abhorrent to permanently take away the ability of flight from someone especially a sparkling. Even Megatron would be hard pressed to do this. A flyer that can't take to the skies will slowly go insane before they just break.

A bot can fix a destroy wing easily so it doesn't matter if another bot targets them in battle but a human can't. They can't regenerate a limb and with our "primitive technology" no tech replacement will allow someone to truly fly again.

Bulkhead curses out starscream for doing something so horrible to his sparkling charge. Starscream is beyond mortified with himself, he didn't know the little organic had wings! He flies off into the sky not knowing what to do with himself.

Miko is immediately rushed back to base afterwards to address her injuries. While she's bummed about her wings Miko notices that bots are taking it harder than her. She quickly figures what's going on so she tries to rectify the situation. "Don't be sad guys can't fly with them so I'm not missing out on anything." This translates in the bots' minds that Miko was so young she couldn't have the chance to fly yet. Needless to say this just makes them feel worse.

Starscream also has this misunderstanding so obviously he feels like shit. He feels so guilty in fact he builds Miko a new set of wings for her. They would attach to her spine/nervous system so she could feel and move them as they were a part of her. She loves them of course. When Miko gets the hang of them she'll be feared by all decepticons as she quickly becomes a flying menace.

[puppetmaster13u]

Well Shit I'm Actually Writing This-

So have Art & a WIP of one of the ideas <3 ------------------------------------------------------------

   “What the fuck.” 

   The fish-snake-whale-man seemed to go through several expressions within a few moments, finally ending on one that Danny could only describe as, this may as well happen but still what the Fuck. And then he was being picked up, which he should not be that small, but the not-ghost was also huge- 

   “That- this is a whole ass child,” the fish-man seemed to be going back to hysterical, the emotion practically dripping in the air. “Holy shit you’re a whole ass child- y-you’re what, five?” 

   Danny let out an angry noise at being called so tiny, even as he inwardly acknowledged the fact that he was incredibly small at the moment. Stupid zone and stupid ghost bullshit. He could be back home sleeping but noo, when would he ever get to actually sleep on a school night. 

   They made another hysterical-sounding noise, head falling back against the wall. “Oh fuck you’re an actual full on child- why is a child down here-” they took a deep breath, lure dimming as they closed their eyes. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck-" 

   That was a lot of cursing, and honestly Danny couldn’t help the judgment that crossed over his face as he tried to squirm free from their hold. Maybe he’d gotten used to the whole wish-cursed situation that was in Amity, but really he didn’t think that much cussing was required. 

   Then again, he didn’t exactly have a good idea about what this place even was- but he’d been in far more dangerous places! Probably. He thinks at least? Look, he’d already established there was something wacky going on with his head, so it wasn’t his fault if this turned out as dangerous as some of his worse incidents. 

   Well, it couldn’t be as dangerous as opening an interdimensional portal right on top of himself, so.

Who knows if I'll finish enough of this to actually post it as a full story on AO3 lol, but lemme know if u have ideas or wanna be tagged

Also for those who want Lore: Here's Sebastian's Wiki Page

[thelustybraavosimaid]

George: Arya is Jon's reference for his personal type and the femininity he finds comfortable.

Arya: petite, skinny, not described as tall.

Daenerys: petite, skinny, not described as tall.

Ygritte, you know, the woman Jon fell in love with: petite, skinny, not described as tall.

Arya and Daenerys have similar measures of morality ("he killed the slave? he should have killed the masters!" anyone?) are horse girls, cautious but fair, caring but ruthless when necessary. Headstrong and non-judging of one's status. George mentioned that Arya specifically was modelled after the feminists he befriended back in the 60s and 70s, but Daenerys also fits this.

What do they even mean by "hardened" here?

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Sasha using the title "Lord" in RiAAU after taking over Toad Tower and presumably killing Grime and stealing Barrel's Warhammer from him, and other political and military leaders assuming she's a man because, well, Sasha is a gender neutral name, so they hear Lord Sasha and assume they're talking about an adult male toad warrior. The second most powerful person in the known world and only real threat to the Leviathan reign!

Cue princess Marcy fleeing Newtopia and her father seeking refuge with his worst enemy hoping to offer information and political levarage in exchange for protection, perhaps even offering herself in marriage to transfer eventual inheritances and whatnot, and she finds out that Lord Sasha is not, indeed, a dark and domineering toad warlord, but a beautiful, terrifying girl her age that looks like her and oh god her poor little lesbian heart can barely take it.

[afewproblems]

Season 2 Halloween Party AU Part Two

You can read part one here!

***

Eddie can't help but steal glances at his passenger as he starts the engine while Steve buckles himself in. 

A streetlight flickers overhead bathing the front seat in strobing gold light; it's so distracting Eddie nearly misses the way Steve's hands tighten around the seatbelt, a slight tremor running through them.

The other man looks exhausted but incredibly on edge, his back straight and shoulders stiff. Eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes as Steve scans the dark street ahead of them. 

If he's so embarrassed to be seen with the town freak, he can just get out and walk home.

Eddie almost says as much, but shakes the words off and flicks the small Snoopy bobblehead on the dash, before reaching for the edge of the passenger seat.

He feels Steve flinch at the sudden movement as Eddie braces himself on the seat to look out the rearview window. 

Eddie tamps down the flicker of irritation that burns in his chest, he hadnt taken Harrington for a Bible thumping asshole that would believe the rumours circling Eddie, but then again, Eddie didn't really know Steve. 

Eddie backs out of the space slowly, no need to wreck the paint even more by hitting some suburban moms stationwagon after all. He shifts into drive and pulls away from the street and the flashing lights of Tina's party behind them.

Steve is quiet as they drive, and as the sound of the dull throbbing bass and party goers begins to fade into the background, Steve slowly begins to curls inwards, tugging his arms around himself.

Eddie's eyes flick between Steve and the road, he's still not looking at Eddie, just out the window with a blank expression. It's the most quiet he's ever seen King-Steve, it's unsettling.

But, the more Eddie thinks about it, that really isn't true.

King-Steve hasn't been King of anything for awhile now, Tommy Hagan has seen to that. 

Steve has been keeping to himself more and more, preferring to hang out with Wheeler and,  surprisingly, Byers of all people. 

Eddie isn't sure he'd ever be able to comfortably sit at a cafeteria table with someone who cleaned his clock, but Steve makes it look easy.

Eddie sneaks another glance and startles to find that Steve is already looking at him. He's chewing his lip, his eyebrows pinched and Eddie can't help but feel as though he's being evaluated somehow.

Great.

"Actually, you know what," Steve says after they've turned down yet another subdivision, just one street shy before the main road, "you can just drop me off up here, my house is close".

"You sure?" Eddie asks, ignoring the frustration that rises in his chest once more, "I can drive you the rest of the way, it's not like we don't all know where the King's Domaine is".

Eddie watches as Steve's expression turns stony for the barest of moments before it shutters.

"Okay". 

Eddie nods with a grimace. He isn't even sure what he wanted to happen tonight, but it wasn’t this. 

Eddie makes a left and another right before pulling into the long drive of the Harrington house.

It used to make him scoff whenever he dealt here. The huge house, the lavish furnishings and fixtures. For fucks sake, the master bath had two sinks and the closet was almost as big as his own bedroom. 

But now as the engine dies and a strange silence falls on the pair, Eddie can't help but notice just how dark the house is. 

"Your parents here?" Eddie says, craning his neck to see the upstairs windows, he doesn't even notice Steve has unclicked himself from the passenger seat until the door is open and he's halfway out of the van. 

"Woah--"

"Thanks for the ride," Steve calls over his shoulder, "see you around Munson".

Eddie barely has time to open his mouth in protest before Steve is unlocking his door and slamming it behind him, leaving Eddie in the van alone. 

He sits for a second before sighing and turning the key once more, coaxing the engine back to life. Eddie turns again, bracing his hand on the passenger seat, debating if he should head back to the party, before he spots something on the floor shining in the glow of the streetlights.

A pair of large black sunglasses, and there's no doubt who they belong to.

"Well shit," Eddie hums thoughtfully as he bends forward to grab the glasses from the floor, "guess I'll be seeing you sooner than we thought".

***

The first bell rings as Eddie closes his locker, he looks out across the sea of teenagers making their way to homeroom before the second bell and smirks. 

Eddie should also be hurrying, considering how far his locker is from his first period class, but there's something about the way the teachers glare as he saunters in late that just fuels him.

Eddie smirks as he swings his backpack over his shoulder, the metal lunchbox inside clangs against something and Eddie winces at the sound. Shit.

He moves the pack off his shoulder and unzips the top, reaching inside to grab the sunglasses from where they've become trapped beneath his lunchbox. 

They aren't broken thankfully, Eddie's sure that Harrington wouldn't appreciate his gesture nearly as much if they came back cracked or bent. 

The thought makes Eddie stop for just a moment before he opens his locker again to place the sunglasses on the top shelf. Why is he even doing this? It's not as though King-Steve would appreciate this, he probably doesn't even know the glasses are missing. 

What does Eddie care about some asshole jock? 

An image of Steve with his head in his hands, his hazel eyes wet and wide as he looks up at Eddie has him slamming his locker shut, mortified by the unbidden thought. 

It's a complete betrayal of his own God damned doctrine, and worse, Steve is straight. All Eddie is doing is hurting himself in the long run with all his pointless pining.

Especially over someone that didn't want to be seen getting into his van last night. 

Eddie leans his head onto his locker and knocks it harshly against the metal, stupid.

The second bell rings and the last of the stragglers leave him alone in the hallway. Eddie taps his fingers on the locker and pushes himself away as he makes his way to the main door, throwing his backpack over his shoulder once more. 

He needs a smoke, and definitely doesn't need Mrs. McBrayden telling him off for not handing in yet another essay today. 

Whatever, it isn't as though Eddie hasn't read Macbeth, he knows that stupid play backwards and forwards --the witches speech is absolutely full of kickass creepy language and was perfect for this one campaign he ran a few years ago. 

Eddie could tell you all the major themes and conflicts no problem, it was writing it in such a way that his teacher would believe he actually wrote it that was the issue.

The last time Eddie actually tried on one of his assignments, he had been immediately accused of plagiarizing someone else's work. 

So, why bother. 

Eddie's already got a cigarette between his lips as he pushes the door open and makes his way to his favorite picnic table by the treeline when he hears a familiar voice behind the gym.

"Tell me--"

"Tell you what?" another voice scoffs, a woman's this time.

Eddie pokes his head tentatively around the corner, spotting the man he had driven home just the night before and his girlfriend alone, clearly fighting.

"Tell me," Steve says firmly, even as his voice waivers, "you love me".

Wheeler stands there, her arms wrapped tightly around her books, "really?"

The word comes out, wrapped in a smile, like it's a joke. 

Steve doesn't move, he doesn't laugh, he doesn't make a sound. 

Nancy's mouth opens and closes as her blue eyes search Steve's face for a long time. She tries for a laugh again, but her smile cracks as Steve continues to stand there expectantly.

Eddie can't see Steve's face from where he's standing but he does hear the low curse he lets out eventually before turning abruptly, swinging a towel over his shoulder as he jogs back to the field to join the rest of the class.

Well shit.

Eddie watches Nancy as she remains rooted to the spot, her face tipped down to the gravel. She breathes out a long sigh and raises one hand to brush through her hair before it drops heavily at her side. 

Eddie can't help but feel a twinge of sympathy as he slowly turns away, shaking his head as he continues to the picnic table. 

He lights the cigarette as he takes a seat facing the school, letting the edge of the table dig into his back. He pulls a long drag from the cigarette and breathes out, watching as the smoke billows away in the cool November air.

If it wasn't officially over last night, it definitely was now. The priss and the jock were no more, and knowing Hawkins?

It would be all over the school by lunch.

Part Three up!

Tag List: @eriquin @luvinthefreaks @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @goodolefashionedloverboi @ellietheasexylibrarian @bambibiest @sadboislovebeans @howincrediblysapphicofyou @coleys-a-nerd @whycantiuseunderscore @airconditioning123

and for some peeps that I think may be interested! @strangersteddierthings @steddierthings @steddie-there @steves-strapcollection @outpastthebrakers @henderdads

[bitter-sweet-farmgirl]

Zirin u Uzbad

Chapter 41 of ‘A Deep Misunderstanding’.  Link to Series Masterlist. Also find it on A03!

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used: Estel

Translation(s): Zirin u Uzbad: Iron of Kings

~~

This is the first new chapter I've written of ADM in SO long. It feels so odd to be getting back into it, but so right at the same time.

~~

As evening fell, word spread through our company of our plan to raid the armory.  Nori disappeared to go do reconnaissance on the location, leaving the rest of us to stay and plan.

Thorin was adamant that we strike quickly and leave that night; an opinion that was unanimously shared by everyone else.  I was slightly more skeptical on exactly how that would work.

I didn’t want to stay in this place any longer than the rest of them, but I didn’t think we could pull off such a scheme.  There were just too many of us not to be noticed. 

Dwarves weren’t exactly the quietest bunch either. 

“Once Nori comes back, we can finalize our plan.  No use in trying to figure out the details when we don’t even know where the place is.”  Gloin offered the words of wisdom.  Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group of dwarrows.

I glanced over at them from my spot in the windowsill.  Whether on purpose or not, I’d been excluded from the discussion.  Or, at least, never invited to participate. 

Not that that was important.  I had no experience to offer them, so it made sense for me not to be asked my thoughts on the matter.  Even if they had, they wouldn’t have liked anything I had to say.  Part of being a voice of reason, I assumed.

Blue eyes rose to meet mine as Thorin raised his head from their plotting.  He jerked his head minutely, silently motioning for me to join him. 

I complied, weaving around Fili and Dwalin to stand by at Thorin’s side.  He placed a broad hand on my back, drawing me flush against his side.

“What?”  I asked softly, fidgeting with the laces of my shirt as I peered over at the sheet of paper they’d begun sketching a layout on.  “You need a woman’s touch or something to whatever chicken scratch that is?”  I motioned to the mostly unintelligible lines.

Thorin grinned, shaking his head.  “No,” he murmured, leaning down slightly so only I could hear, “I just wanted to have you next to me.”

“Ah,” I nodded, laying my head against his shoulder.  “That’s an acceptable excuse too.” 

He chuckled, dropping his hand from my back in order to intertwine our fingers.  “I’m glad I’m not intolerable to you.”  The smile vanished as his face became serious.  “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be around lately.  We’re so close to Erebor…Closer than I thought we would ever get.  And the hardest part is yet to come still.”

I squeezed Thorin’s hand.  The closer we had gotten to Erebor on this journey, the more Thorin’s moods turned dark.  A shadow of something I didn’t recognize, but knew deep down I didn’t like, would flicker across his face. 

I had heard the whispers around the fire at night.  Of gold-sickness and the Arkenstone.  The madness that afflicted Thorin’s family, and was almost certainly the reason why Erebor had been lost. 

He worried over it.  Was determined not to follow in the footsteps of his grandfather.  But feared that he would fall just the same. And that trial had not yet come to pass.  It loomed in front of him now that we were in Laketown. 

“I will always be by your side, Thorin.  You’re stronger than your past, amrâlimê.”  I promised, trying to reassure this dwarrow who already had enough burdens to bear.  “I trust you.” 

A shadow of a smile appeared on his face as he looked at me.  “Mahal forbid I do anything to break your trust.” 

~~~

Nori’s arrival back brought a flood of new intel.  Apparently, the armory was housed in the local jail, and the only access point that wasn’t in full view was a single small window on the second story.

“Are there any guards around it?”  Thorin inquired, his hand still grasping mine.  “Where is it located?”

“Far as I could see, there aren’t any guards in the place.  It’s off a ways from the main bits of this floating slag heap, but the window’s on one of the canals.  Doesn’t seem te get used much though.”  Nori traced a finger down the map, delineating the canal in question.

Dwalin nodded silently, arms crossed over his chest.  “How are ye suggestin’ we get in this place then?”

The grin that Nori wore sent chills down my spine. 

“Oh, nothing difficult you know.  Just a running start and a strong hand.”  He shrugged, “for what I have in mind, you’ll need to be on the bottom.” 

The murderous look Dwalin sent Nori’s way had the rest of us cracking up into stifled giggles.  Nori being Nori, he had worded the sentence into an innuendo.

“Thorin,” Dwalin hissed, leaning over me to murmur in Thorin’s ear.  “Ye canna be serious ‘bout lettin’ ‘im plan this.” 

I looked over at the dark haired dwarrow beside me who wasn’t doing a thing to hide his smirk. 

“Out of all of us, he has the most experience breaking into places.  We need that iron, Dwalin.” 

Dwalin sighed heavily.  “Ah know we do…” 

Thorin clapped a hand onto his friend’s shoulder.  “There is a reason why each dwarf is here with us.  Nori’s talents have a use, no matter how he happened to come by them.  Now,” he turned to the rest of the gathered dwarrows.  “We leave here at nightfall.  Then once we have the weapons, we head for Erebor.” 

Erebor.  The word echoed through the group.  The shining star at the end of this long journey. 

~~~~

Miraculously, fourteen dwarves and a hobbit went unnoticed in the streets of Laketown as we made our way to the armory. 

A fog was rising from the dank canals and spreading over the city, which helped our cause somewhat. 

But nothing could stifle our heavy footfalls and mutters. 

“Shh, keep it down.”  Dwalin hissed at Bombur as we hid along the side of the armory while waiting for the pair of guards to wander away on the other side of the canal.

“As soon as we have the weapons, we’ll make straight for the mountain.  We cannot delay any longer.”  Thorin muttered, giving Nori the nod as the guards disappeared from sight.  “Go, go, go.” 

The dwarf clambered up the backs of the company, using them as human stairs to get high enough to slip through the window.  And, just as he’d told us earlier, Dwalin was on the bottom, giving Fili a boost to act as the last stair.

Once he was through, Thorin nodded to Bilbo.  “Next.” 

The hobbit repeated the maneuver, awkwardly springboarding off the dwarrows to haul himself through the window. 

“Bofur.  Then Kili.  Then me.”  Thorin directed, then turned to me.  “You stay down here with the rest.  Keep an eye out for the guards.” 

“Okay,” I nodded, “but are you sure about Kili?  He’s got a wounded leg, remember?”  I watched as Kili practically crawled up the last ‘step’ and had his brother practically shove him through the window.  Thorin didn’t even turn around to see it. 

“He’s fine, Estel.  Kili’s gotten himself scraped up more times than I can count.  He’s perfectly capable for this.”  Thorin brushed my concerns off with a nostalgic smile and a shake of his head before he made his own ascent and forced himself through the small window.

Well, I couldn’t say I didn’t warn the dwarrow, but regardless, I hoped he was right. 

With Thorin safely inside the armory, the rest of the company disentangled themselves and stood warily alongside the building. 

“Did Nori mention the best way out of here?”  I voiced the thought that struck me suddenly.  “I know he said they were coming out that door at the bottom, but where are we going from there?” 

I looked around at the rest of the dwarrows.  It wasn’t like we were going to be inconspicuous with our newfound weaponry. 

“To the mountain, of course.”  Dori whispered, and I tried not to roll my eyes. 

“Yes, I know that part.  I was talking about how fourteen dwarves all carrying swords are going to sneak through Laketown without being noticed.” 

“We’ll manage.  It won’t be the first time for---”  Balin’s calm reassurance was interrupted by an ear-splitting crash from within the armory. 

We all stared at each other in horror for a moment before the sound of approaching footsteps sent us scrambling. 

Thorin.  I had a split second to worry before all hell broke loose.

“Run!”  Dori yelped, only to stop short when a guard came around the corner and put a pike to his throat. 

“Halt!”  He barked, motioning over his shoulder and drawing more guards over to us. 

“Keep yer head down an’ stay close.”  Dwalin hissed under his breath to me as we were pushed forward. 

I nodded once, watching as Fili maneuvered himself to flank me as the guards marched us around the corner and past the wagon we had all hidden behind a few minutes ago.  The armory door was ajar and the guards stopped us from going any further. 

One left us, peering through the door.  “We’ve got a group of the dwarves here, Davrel.  I assume they’re the companions of yours.” 

I rose up on my toes, trying to see past him into the building.  There had been no noise of a struggle once we had been apprehended, so I assumed there had been no choice but peaceful surrender. 

“Git down.”  Dwalin growled, catching sight of me trying to peer around him.  He twisted slightly so he could grab my shoulder and shove me back down. 

“Keep quiet!  Another word and I’ll be seeing which of you can swim.”  One of the other men who surrounded us threatened, looking directly at me. 

I looked away quickly, trying to subtly hide myself behind one of the larger dwarrows as my heart began to pound. 

Almost instantly, I found my mind wandering to what would happen if they found out I was a woman.  What they would do differently to me. 

The existence of dwarrowdames was a very closely guarded secret.  It had become apparent to me very quickly that they—I should say we—were rare.  And then Thorin had explained further the status given to their womenfolk because of that.  That we were treasured and were to be protected at all costs.

So for a human man to learn what I was….I had heard too many stories about the curiosity of men about women. 

A shudder went down my spine, and I suddenly found myself grateful that I’d had the foresight to change back into my original outfit before we left Bard’s house.  The skirt would have been a dead give-away as to my sex.  Not that there weren’t other obvious things about me that screamed ’female’.

While lost in my thoughts, I didn’t see the quick, subtle hand motions Dwalin made to the rest of the group, catching the eyes of those who didn’t see to make sure they did. 

Don’t let them know E. is woman.

A commotion in the armory had us all watching as the rest of our group was led out at swordpoint.  I restrained myself from trying to catch the first glimpse of Thorin, allowing myself to be shielded behind Dwalin as they were herded into our midst.

“Think that’s all of them?”  The last man out of the building asked to the guard who was leaning against the doorframe. 

He shrugged his shoulders, spitting onto the wooden walkway.  “Looks to be.  Sure are plenty of them.”

“Aye.  Won’t make the Master happy at all…”  He dropped his voice, the rest of his sentence unintelligible.  The other one grimaced, straightening up and grabbing hold of his pike.  “Move along, now!”  He ordered, and we were funneled down the boardwalk.

Dwalin was almost immediately grabbed by one of the guards, who kept a tight hold on his arm as if they expected him to make a fuss.  I drew back, trying to keep hidden in the middle of the crush. 

Fili had moved up in the group, arm wrapped around Kili, who was limping.  Obviously, his wound wasn’t just a mere scrape like Thorin had tried to play it off as. 

The further into the city we went, the more people were gathered.  Whispers followed us as we were led straight into the heart of the floating city.  Speculations as to who we were and what we were doing. 

And then, we were shoved through the crowd and before a towering building that loomed imposingly over the town and its occupants.

I was given a push that sent me stumbling, almost tripping over the uneven planks.  Strong hands caught me, steadying me against a familiar broad figure.  But just as quickly, Thorin released me, shooting a glare over at a man who I guessed had pushed me. 

“Thorin—”  I whispered, but he shook his head. 

“They cannot know what you are.  Stay silent and beside anyone but me.”  He murmured quickly, taking a step away from me and allowing Dwalin to take his place. 

I shivered as his warmth retreated.  Snowflakes were falling gently from the sky, heralding the beginnings of winter.  I didn’t fully understand why I couldn’t be associated with Thorin.  He was obviously trying to keep my sex hidden from our audience, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t stand at his side.

The place where I felt the safest in this town.

“What is the meaning of this?”  A new, irritated voice called out, and all eyes were drawn to the pair of men emerging from the building before us. 

“We caught ‘em stealing weapons, Sire.”  One of the guards spoke.

So this was the Master….This bloated, overfed man who so obviously rung this town dry of anything it could produce. 

“Ah!  Enemies of the state, huh?”  He peered out at us, pulling his fur-trimmed robe closer around him as a gust of wind blew through the square.

“A desperate bunch of mercenaries, if ever there was, Sire.”  The second man spoke in a drawl, prowling out from behind the Master like a cat.

Dwalin bristled.  “Hold your tongue!”  He strode forward, drawing all eyes onto him.  “You do not know to whom you speak.  This is no common criminal.  This is Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror!”  He introduced his friend as though we had reclaimed Erebor and ruled from it.  The names of Thorin’s forefathers rang in the crisp air.

Murmurs erupted from the crowd as Dwalin said the last one.

As I stood, watching Dwalin defend my husband, Thorin stepped past me, coming to join him in the middle of the circle.  Passing by his friend, Thorin inclined his head, exchanging a look before facing the Master. 

“We are the dwarves of Erebor.  We have come to reclaim our homeland.”  His deep baritone thrummed through the square, prompting a whole new round of excited mutters from the crowd.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach upon hearing those words spoken aloud for the first time.  Suddenly, everything seemed…real.  Like until this moment, this entire journey—and what we were planning to accomplish—didn’t exist. 

Thorin began walking, locking eyes with members of the crowd.  “I remember this town in the great days of old.  Fleets of boats lay at harbour, filled with silks and fine gems.  This was no forsaken town on a lake.  This was the center of all trade in the north!

“I would see those days return.  I would relight the great forges of the dwarves and send wealth and riches flowing once more from the halls of Erebor!”

The crowd cheered around us, and I watched as the Master exchanged a look with his black-robed companion.  But they were forgotten by all as Thorin gave the crowd hope for their future.

This.  This was who he was meant to be.  It was so easy for me to see how comfortable Thorin was in this situation.  The ease with which he spoke to these people who struggled to eke out their existence. 

He was no princeling brought up on tales of grandeur and riches.  He had fought tooth and nail to earn his position and do right by his people.  He had walked miles in the same shoes as these folk.  Thorin had always chosen the hard path over the easy. 

That is what earned the respect of these people around us.  Why they so easily warmed to him.  They recognized the kindred soul who understood their hardships.  Who was so different from their current leader who leeched off their hard labour for his gain.

Thorin met my eyes as I watched him from behind Gloin.  He smiled minutely, not giving away any hints to those around us who might be watching.

“Death!  That is what you’ll bring upon us!”  Bard’s voice rang through the air, and he shoved his way through the crowd, passing by me and stopping in front of Thorin.  “Dragonfire and ruin.  If you awaken that beast, it will destroy us all.”

Thorin stared him down for a heartbeat before he turned slowly back to the crowd.  “You can listen to this naysayer, but I promise you this; if we succeed all will share in the wealth of the mountain.” 

He was unruffled; confident in the crowd’s reaction to his words.  But there was still the oliphant in the room.

If.  The word we treaded so carefully upon.

“You will have enough gold to rebuild Esgaroth ten times over!”  Thorin boomed, and the crowd erupted again into cheers.

Balin leaned over to whisper in my ear, unable to keep from smiling.  “Laddie’s in his element now.”

“It’s in his blood.”  I murmured back.

Bard turned to look at the crowd, casting his gaze over them with furrowed brow.  Like he didn’t understand why Thorin’s promises were so well received. 

How could they not?  This was something straight out of a fairy tale—a king returning to reclaim his stronghold and the riches within.  I was willing to bet this was the first glimpse of hope these people had seen in a long while.

“All of you!”  Bard entreated.  “Listen to me, you must listen!  Have you forgotten what happened to Dale?  Have you forgotten those who died in the firestorm?  And for what purpose?” 

Women began to shake their heads, gazes cast down to the ground.  The men looked staunchly ahead; reliving the tales that had been passed down from their fathers.

Bard swung about to look back at Thorin.  “The blind ambition of a Mountain King, so driven by greed, he could not see beyond his own desire!” 

Thorin’s sapphire eyes turned ice cold; his jaw set as if he couldn’t trust himself not to speak out. 

The Master cleared his throat, reminding us all that he still existed and was watching this whole exchange.  “Now, now.  We must not, any of us, be too quick to lay blame.”  He shook his finger like he was telling off a naughty child.  “Let us not forget, that it was Girion, Lord of Dale, your ancestor, who failed to kill the beast!” 

“That’s the pot callin’ the kettle black, right there.”  Gloin muttered to Dori, who nodded. 

“Aye, he’s just as much at fault.”

Beside the Master, his lackey nodded sagely.  “It’s true, Sire.  We all know the story.  Arrow after arrow, he shot.  Each one missing its mark.”  He tsked sadly, managing to not look sorry at all while doing so.

“You have no right.  No right to enter that mountain.”  Bard’s voice was quiet as he looked down on Thorin.

Mutters ran through the dwarves.  I bit my lip, silently disagreeing with his words.  He did not understand what we had all gone through in order to reach this point.  What we had fought or outrun.  What demons we had battled in our minds.

And that was only on this quest.  What I knew about the fall of Erebor and all that happened afterwards only scratched the surface of what really went down.  The struggles that each and every one of these dwarves had faced.  How they had suffered and struggled to make a living hundreds of miles from where they had been born and raised.  I could never truly understand, having not been there that day.

Thorin met his gaze easily.  “I have the only right.”  He murmured, turning away from the man to address the Master.  “I speak to the Master of the men of the lake.  Will you see the prophecy fulfilled?  Will you share in the great wealth of our people?”

I fully expected the greed of the man to present itself instantly.  How could he turn away such riches?  But he hesitated, and my heart dipped in my chest. 

Thorin asked him again, voice deepening into a command.  “What say you?”

“I say, unto you….”  The Master swallowed hard before throwing his hands out wide, “welcome!  Welcome and rise!  Welcome, King Under the Mountain!” 

The crowd erupted into cheers.  Bard was the only person who seemed disappointed that the Master approved of Thorin.  He stood with his back to me so I couldn’t see his expression, but he certainly wasn’t cheering with the rest of the townsfolk. 

“Come!  Join me in celebrating your return and continued success on your journey!”  The Master invited, grinning broadly.  “Dine at my table before you set out for the mountain.” 

We all exchanged looks.  Balin shrugged.  “I’ve never been one to turn down a good meal, particularly now.”

“Probably a good bit of ale, too.”  Bofur chimed in, and with that, we filed up the stairs and into the Master’s house.

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[joejhang]

no cos if casual by chappell roan was ever gonna be used for andreil it would be from andrew's pov NOT neil's do you understand because andrew never even said it was casual between them (much as i think neil is really smart he was pretty blind to andrew's feelings for him during their little nothing) it was always neil who thought it was casual between them (lbr it NEVER was). if u recall he justified the relationship to himself because he thought andrew felt nothing for him and so it wouldn't really mean anything to either of them, and it wasn't until after baltimore when neil realised it was more than that. andrew knew that his feelings for neil were more than just physical attraction since their little confrontation in exites before they went to the hemmicks' house, but neil (i think purposefully) remained blind to it. you said we're not together, so now when we kiss i have anger issues is so much more of an andrew line than it is for neil cos neil was always under the impression that it was casual and was fine with it (until he wasn't) but andrew knew it wasn't casual and didn't bother to correct neil but HOW WAS HE FEELING.

[boneskullravenriver]

Hello??? Guys?? Isn't Jake like 15 or something??

Isn't quark's basically a bar?? Dabo girls the star trek equivalent of those chicks that work at a casino?? Aka an adult???

Guys,,, why is Benjamin not denouncing this chick as a predator hello

[marciaillust]

mom come pick me up people related to my personal posts too much

[lydiablackblade]

Here.

Here lies the whole miserable Final 15. Here it started. It's heartbreaking.

For Crowley, when he's talking about himself, he automatically means Aziraphale as well. Aziraphale is part of him. Not there's Me and there's You, but I = me+you.

And Aziraphale's is not there yet. Or he simply didn't know, couldn't know what it meant to Crowley. For him they're two individuals, Me and You, or he assumed Crowley thought like that.

They are very much not on the same page, what they mean to each other. What You and Me means for them. Because they never talked about it. They both have their own assumptions about what the other one thinks.

FFS guys, please talk to each other 😭

[witchofthesouls]

Humans not only from viruses can get sick but from stress alone too

Try to to do something about invisible threat (poor bots)

Funnily enough, they do understand stress-related illness and injury, especially with education on the line, but there's still a huge cultural clash (and arising misunderstandings).

On Cybertron, medical-related frames are regulated to a mid-to-higher caste in the system as Golden Age Cybertron highly values them and those fields. It stems from the Quintesson Occupation since their conquerors greatly valued intellectual pursuits (and ways to control Cybertronian biology and keep the population docile to their leverage).

That doesn't jive well with American business practices. To the Autobots, June Darby is their equivalent of a highly skilled medical practitioner, especially since she's acting as a trainer or as a head of a specialty unit. On Cybertron, she would be afforded more privileges in accordance with her rank and responsibilities: greater pay, final say on her core staff or floats, better access to fuel grades and a greater vareity of flavorings, off-premise housing on a discount, vacation pay, emergency/sick pay, access to parks, libraries, and more places dedicated to pure recreation (like amusement parks or plays), an allowance to decorate her hab to her preference, greater priority if she wanted to mentor a newframe or a sparkling from the Well (granted it had to share her own medical-frame), seating on public transport, discounted/free items and services through the hospital and university networks, and priority on networking and trade within the system.

Shoot, it's how Ratchet kept his clinic in the Underground alive for that long. He utilized all the privileges afforded to him as one of the best of the best until it couldn't be overlooked. Even then, Ratchet was afforded a heads-up about the raid long before it happened so he could clear out and wrap up any illegal treatment or training.

If Ratchet found out how poor the state of medical care in the U.S., especially the mockery it was twisted by insurance and private equity, the mech would be so infuriated that he would skip English and go back into Neocybex to the point all of his 'strongly worded letters' to many local, state, and federal committees would be in Cybertronian.

Plus, Ratchet is incredibly salty, bitter, and frustrated at the current state of the war... so he'll channel those emotions into the political and social scene on bettering healthcare and patient outcomes by coordinating many advocacy groups... and curating ties to organizations and individuals that have beef to pick over the state of things or have no qualms in upsetting social polite fictions.

Bottom line, Cybertronians are very familiar with stress-related injuries and illnesses, but they're absolutely astounded on how Earth (let's be honest, the U.S. since the Autobots seems to only sole ties to them) can be so forward, yet incredibly backward on things.