#flying ghost sharks

[snowberai]

@omenofthevoid HIHI!! I FINISHED IT!!

Finally...

YOU ARE AN AMAZING ARTIST AND UGH!!! I LOVE SEEING YOUR ART ITS AMAZING!! I LOVE YOUR THIN LINES SM!!!! <333

[greenglowinspooks]

Honestly I think the fics where Danny’s a Kryptonian have a lot of potential, so here’s me throwing my hat into the ring

Danny was born a human. He was born to two loving (though slightly neglectful) human parents in the painfully mundane state of Illinois.

Then, he died, but he didn’t do it right. He became a Halfa; too alive to be a ghost, but too dead to be human.

Then, through strange, uncontrollable circumstances, that changed as well.

He had been heavily injured, missing a large percentage of body mass, and was at the cusp of either dying fully or just fading from existence.

(Perhaps it was an ordinary fight. Perhaps it was the GiW, or his parents. Perhaps it was a simple accident. That didn’t matter now.)

He fled, phasing through the ground, trying to bury himself as deep as possible.

(Perhaps he didn’t want to be unmasked in death. Perhaps that was already too late, and he just wanted his body be able to rest in peace.)

Unfortunately for him, he was in Metropolis, and ended up in a secret genetics lab below the earth.

Danny detransformed, completely exhausted, falling onto a table covered in different labeled specimen containers. He closed his eyes, and prepared himself for what would happen next.

And… nothing.

Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes.

Danny sat up, brushing off the foul-smelling liquid from the specimen jars, petri dishes, and assorted vials.

He felt…fine.

No, better than fine. He felt normal. Healthy.

He felt like he wasn’t missing most of his internal organs anymore.

Danny looked down at his stomach, and saw that the wounds that were killing him had completely disappeared.

(The blood blossoms, if there had been any, were still there, but they no longer hurt. At most, they itched a little, or maybe just tickled a bit.)

He wanted to question what in the hell had just happened, but he didn’t want to jinx it. He just quietly changed back to Phantom, going invisible and phasing out of wherever he had found himself in, ignoring the loud alarm system that had begun to blare when he broke the samples on that table.

Life mostly went back to normal after that.

If, like Danny, you ignored all the physical changes in a valiant effort to remain in denial that something was horribly wrong.

His skin was tougher, now; he didn’t get scrapes or cuts, even when he accidentally fumbled a knife while trying to cook. His ghost form was stronger, too; he was barely knocked down by his old rogues anymore.

He could fly, even in his human form. Though, admittedly, the flight was much different. It was like using a muscle he hadn’t known existed beforehand. He didn’t just ignore gravity or wind resistance, though he felt more graceful in the air now than he ever did as Phantom.

There were more powers popping up, lasers and cold breath, x-ray vision and super strength. His lungs and heart were larger, and he could handle temperatures much easier. He didn’t have to transform to handle the pressure and cold of space anymore.

His reaction time had improved, becoming much faster than ever before. His senses were much stronger, and he had even seemed to gain a sense of electric fields, like a shark.

The only thing that separated him from a Kryptonian was that he had developed electrokenesis, which he had never seen any of them use on TV.

So, surely, he was fine.

Everything was normal, he hadn’t been transformed by alien DNA in a sketchy lab, he had just had a really weird and specific metagene activation.

—

Clark Kent, Kal-El, was panicking.

It had been around a month and a half since a particularly brutal fight between Intergang and an unknown assailant, and it seemed that Intergang was determined to draw out whoever had scorned them.

Their method of doing this, of course, was trying to level the city.

He and Jon were doing their best to stop them, but with both Kon and Zor-El away on their own business, it was difficult.

And by difficult, he meant almost impossible.

Slowly but surely he was driving them back, but not without massive amounts of damage to the city, especially with only Jon on dedicated rescuing duty.

He was distracted, trying to draw a group away from a heavily occupied building, when a projectile hit him in the back of the head.

The world spun for a moment, and then it went black.

(It was, probably, then, some sort of Kryptonite-metal alloy. Intergang at its finest.)

He woke slowly, forcing his eyes open. He felt like he had been hit by an eighteen wheeler.

Clark jolted up, preparing for the worst.

To his shock, though, the city hadn’t been reduced to rubble while he was out.

Jon seemed to still be working on evacuation, either unaware that he had went down or forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

Then, a lightning-quick figure flew into view, and Clark’s mind went blank.

He thought, for a moment, that Kara was back. But, no, that wasn’t right, she was supposed to be off-planet for another week or so.

Besides, this new figure didn’t move like her. They were lankier and more slender, and they flew quicker than any member of his family.

Their powerset was different, too; they focused mainly on using blasts of ice and electricity to drive enemies back, only occasionally using their strength or lasers—ones which came from their hands instead of their eyes.

He had woken up at the tail end of the fight, it seemed. The remaining Intergang members were fleeing from the mysterious metahuman.

They stayed in the sky, motionless, watching them leave.

As if they could sense him staring, they turned.

They were small, still clearly young. Probably around Kon’s age, or maybe even younger.

Instead of the colorful clothing he had inherited from his family, the stranger wore black and white clothes which looked similar to a hazmat suit, their face covered by some sort of gas mask.

Interestingly enough, instead of the S-shape crest that he was so used to seeing, the stranger wore the letter D on his chest.

Kal’s heart sped up.

From up in the sky, he heard the stranger’s heart, on the left instead of the right, speed up in return.

But before he could say a word to them, they sped off, disappearing into the deep blue sky.

[markrosewater]

Maro’s “Look Inside the House”: A Duskmourn: House of Horrors Teaser

The new plane of Duskmourn is a perilous place, but if you can survive the horrors within you may come out stronger than ever. I’ve been there. I’ve seen the darkness and to that end, here are some hints of things to come – but will this information help or hinder your journey? Only time will tell. As with any good piece of horror media, you’re only receiving partial information and things are not always as they appear: 

 First up, here are some things you can expect:  

• A component of the set with a frame using technology first designed for an Un-set

• A tweak on an ability word that first appeared in the third set of a block

• Counters used in the set: +1/+1, -1/-1, finality, flying, lifelink, lore, loyalty, nest, possession, rev, stun, and time

• The first ability word to reference “second main phase”

• A 10/1 creature for UUU

• A variant on a mechanic that itself was a variant on another mechanic

• A modal three mana white mass removal spell

• A character returns as a legendary creature that first appeared in flavor text in Alpha

• A new ability word that cares about a card type and a (new) keyword action

• Creature tokens: 1/1 white Toy, 1/1 white Glimmer, 2/1 white Insect, 3/1 white Spirit, 4/4 white Beast, blue token copy, X/X blue Spirit, 2/2 black Horror, 6/6 black Demon, 1/1 red Gremlin, 1/1 red Balloon, 2/2 green Spider, 1/1 black and green Insect, and 0/0 green and blue Fractal

 Next, here are some rules text that will be showing up on cards:  

• “unlock a locked door”

• “Search your library for a Demon card,”

• “where X is the number of creatures you control with power 2 or less.”

• “Exile any number of target instant, sorcery, and/or Tamiyo planeswalker cards from your graveyard.”

• “The same is true for creature spells you control and creature cards you own that aren’t on the battlefield.”

• “You have no maximum hand size and don’t lose the game for having 0 or less life.”

• “Whenever you cast an instant or sorcery spell that targets only a single creature you control, copy that spell.”

• “Shards you control become copies of it until the beginning of the next end step.”

• “of creatures you control that don’t have the same name as this creature.”

• “(2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, and 31 are prime numbers.)”

 Here are some creature type lines from the set: 

• Creature – Human Doctor

• Creature – Kor Survivor

• Creature – Goat

• Creature – Shark

• Creature – Eye

• Creature – Fish Insect

• Artifact Creature – Monkey Toy

• Creature – Human Clown Berserker

• Legendary Creature – Elder Demon

• Legendary Creature – Rat Ninja Wizard

 Finally, here are some names in the set: 

• Acrobatic Cheerleader

• Don’t Make a Sound

• Exorcise

• Friendly Ghost

• Jump Scare

• Let’s Play a Game

• Meathook Massacre II

• Orphans of the Wheat

• Split Up

• Unsettling Twins

 Tune into Duskmourn’s Debut at 2pm PT, August 31 – streaming live from PAX West – where the House will finally reveal more of its secrets.

[cherie-doll]

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Summer With Them

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

ׂׂૢ Y’all have no idea how much i hate summer i defrost from vampire to weird nerd -1000 aura points or whatever they’re saying on the clock app

Anyways i finished this while at the laundromat

Ghost

Prefers summer nights to summer days or evenings

Sits on the porch at night with you listening to the cicadas sing

And during this time you can’t take showers together bc he won’t let you adjust the temperature, he takes his showers ice cold

Don’t ask me where I get this from but he vibes with that one Type O Negative song bc according to him it gives “summer” (iykyk)

Prob has sun sensitivity

Cannot leave the house without his sunglasses

And he avoids driving when the sun’s too bright

Soap

Bastard who enjoys summer #1

He likes summer because it means going down to the beach and showing off his muscles that stay clothed under uniform throughout the year

Wants to buy swimming trunks that’ll match your swimwear

He likes joining teens in volleyball and flying kites with kids

Loves going on walks on the beach at dawn and dusk

He once gave you a bad scare when making you think the dolphin fin in the water was a shark

Even if you’re at home he’ll drag you out of bed to join his morning walk and evening walks after dinner

Gaz

He’s content with summer

Will come up with tons of things to do

Picnics he prepares every weekend

Cloud watching

Catching fireflies in a jar and setting them free all at once to see them glow

Running his fingers through your hair as the breeze blows

Making lemonade together to stay cool outside

Buys a vintage camera to take lots of pics of you

On every evening walk you take together he picks something small like a leaf or flower and saves it

At the end of the season he gets everything together and creates a page in his scrapbook

Alejandro

Bastard who enjoys summer #2

He likes the feel of summer breeze on his bare skin and you look forward to seeing that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Likes to sleep with the windows open at night

Blasts music

Carne asadas

Frequents the local ice cream shops to buy mangonadas

Throughout the entire summer your kitchen has fruits of all kind that he eats with tajin

Will take you for a drive around in his truck and then find a quiet little spot like a lake or mountain to park and sit on the truck bed watching the sky

Phillip Graves

Sits outside with sunglasses on and beer in hand

Calls for you to come out and sit with him to watch the sunset

Cookouts

Anytime you complain of the heat you better hope he’s not around to yap your ear off about some anecdote from when he was a child

“It’s hot” “Ain’t that hot” he responds whilst his face is sunburned bc he refuses to wear sunscreen

Will only wear sunscreen if you are able to catch him before he goes outside and apply it for him

Keegan

It seems like summer evenings are the perfect time to do stuff

For some reason likes to do things shirtless in summer: yard/garden work, mowing the lawn, washing the car..

You set up a chair on the porch to watch him

Falling asleep on a soft patch of grass under the shade of a tree

Will start a bonfire and sit around it with you for hours into the late hours of the night

Sometimes you’ll stay out so late with him that both of you fall asleep

König

He’s not fond of summer

Would prefer to stay inside but if you want to he’ll go out as well

Sprawls on the floor with the fan on

He’ll drive where you want to go and then sit in the car watching you

Prob keeps ice packs in a cooler to keep cool when going outside for a long time

He’d rather be outside when the sun starts to set and the sky turns orange

Sets up a hammock

Afternoon naps on the hammock with the gentle sway of the wind

Horangi

He likes summer and prepares for it

Just imagine him getting out a little backpack with a sunhat, sunglasses, sunscreen, water bottle, umbrella, cooling sleeves, etc…

That’s not for him tho that’s for you he puts on sunglasses and is good to go

During summer he loves going to markets and buying fruit bc that’s when it’s best

Lots of strawberries, grapes and tangerines

Constantly reminds you to wear sun protection

He likes being outside a lot actually and will take you to his favorite parks and places to hike

Nikto

The change of seasons does not affect him much

He’ll notice the change of weather one day and mention how much warmer it is

“It’s summer” “Oh, we should go camping soon…”

He’ll take you camping whether you like it or not insisting that you will like it

Sets a tent near the river to catch fish

He also likes to plant vegetables during the nice weather and bring them to you, proudly showing off his hard work rewarded

He likes to cook meals together and eat outside

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

Heyyyy, my gremlins of trees and seas! I’m back with something new for you now let’s go

🌊🪼Ancient Of The Sea Danny & Storm Dani and hurricane Dan🌊🪼

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

=====================================

Ok so the GIW ‘took care’ of the Fentons, Sam, Tucker and kidnapped Danny with Dani and Dan fast forward a few weeks Dani and Dan are injured badly enough that they go back into their cores but before the GIW could get the cores Danny grabs them and puts them into his body and flys though the portal and destroys it as he does so

And now Danny kinda just wandering around looking for a place to heal up and than he finds something he didn’t even think he had as a half-ghost. A Lair, Vlad mentioned it a few times saying that it was another thing that brought him and Danny closer together but Danny wasn’t really listening to him ( when does he ever ) but as he walks in ( well incubating Dani who has been renamed by Danny to dawn and Dan who has been renamed to Dusk )

He is met with the smell of the sea and the sounds of waves crashing against rocks and some rock pillers out further in the sea and the sound of the waves hitting the sand which is black {like from one of the black sand beaches they look neat} as Danny walk onto the sand he looks around that his Lair which was something Danny thought he would ever be able to say but he is quickly brought back to where he is when he sees a large black marble castle that is a bit overgrown on the outside

Ok so a few weeks later Dannys settled into the castle and his Lair the castle even has a room next to his ( which is the master bedroom ) for when the baby’s are ready but anyway it turns out that he is the new Ancient Of The Sea so that’s a thing now and the seas have all the ghosts of aquatic animals which is really interesting and now he apparently gives off nymph and ethereal vibes….And I don’t really have anything more to add on this part for now but I will add more later

=====================================

Ok now onto the DC part ok so this could go into two very different story’s regarding which plot you choose 

The FIRST way: So the JL need help with a new big bad ( could be Aliens or supernatural type stuff ) and need the Ancients power to help them so they have to convince them to help so they split off into teams and Tim’s team ( with Jon and Damian just cause ) and they have to convince The Ancient Of The Sea so they go to what appears to be a cave entrance that has small pounds around it that looks like an sea cave but it is the entrance to Danny’s lair and as they walk in they are hit with the smell of the sea and a few minutes of trying to find the Ancient they find them sitting on one of the rock mountains surrounding the black sand beach and that when Jon makes a very loud sound that gets the Ancients attention fast so they all walk over to them and they start trying to convince them to help and this is basically the reaction

The Team: trying to convince him and is doing what they can to keep his attention

Danny: who was going to help them the moment they said they needed help

And Danny just lets them go on without interrupting them and when their done he just nods and says “ I will help you” and the sigh of relief they all let out almost made him laugh

The SECOND way: The Zone holds a ball every 100,000 years and to be invited is an honor and the JL gets invited and any sidekicks they decide to bring with them and JLD have to explain how important this is and how they can NOT screw this up or their world is done for so they have a lot of pressure to not cause any problems whatsoever and it last for three days and on the first day Damian is walking down a hall until he comes across what looks like an Sea cave entrance and goes in and as he walk around he sees a beautiful person who looks around his age and goes up to them and a few hours later they become friends Damien even got to pet an shark who came up close and Damian comes back the second day two and on the third day ( the day of the ball ) Damien siblings notice the change in behavior and follow him and they go through the entrance after him and see him and Danny talking

And that’s all for this

=====================================

Now on to the details

Here’s what I’m thinking for Danny

Mixed with this

This is what I’m thinking for his outfit and for his hair

And just because here is a head ornament that I’m thinking he wears

Or at least something close to this

=====================================

And that’s it! Sorry if it’s a bit weird but I hope you gremlins like it byeeeee

[jiubilant]

we need lore friendly skyrim animals mod list

so excited to compile this list as i've been having a blast playing with these mods installed!

variant mods:

dynamic animal variants, which makes animals spawn with different texture variants; every animal you meet will look a little unique

infinite dragon variants, which makes every dragon in the game visually unique

new fauna:

mammoth expansion, which adds bull and calf mammoths to the game

rhinos of skyrim, which adds woolly rhinos to the game

reindeer herds, which adds herds of reindeer to skyrim's northern tundra

wolves of cyrodiil, which adds cyrodiilic wolves to the forests near skyrim's southern border

boars unbound, which adds boars to mainland skyrim (i recommend using it with 'bristleback boars,' linked below)

crows and ravens, which adds crows and ravens to the game

seagulls of skyrim, which adds seagulls to skyrim's coastline and coastal settlements

birds of prey and felsaad terns, which adds new birds of prey to skyrim's skies

ring-necked pheasants, which adds live pheasants to the game

pigeons, which adds flocks of pigeons to skyrim's cities

chicks, which adds chicks to skyrim's farms

housecats, which adds domesticated cats to skyrim's cities and villages

sea of spirits, which adds sea life (whales, sharks, fish, etc) to the sea of ghosts

kagouti and guar, which adds both wild and domesticated kagouti and guar to solstheim

nix-hounds, which adds both wild and domesticated nix-hounds to solstheim

cliff racers fly so high, which adds cliff racers to the skies of solstheim

custom skeletons, remodels, and retextures:

savage wolves, a custom skeleton for wolves

savage bears, a custom skeleton for bears

bristleback boars, a custom skeleton for boars (makes them more closely resemble eurasian wild boars than african warthogs)

heartland horses, a custom skeleton for horses

immersive smilodons, a custom skeleton for sabrecats

rabbit replacer, a custom retexture for rabbits

nocturnal's birds replacer, a custom remodel and retexture of nocturnal's ravens

[illarian-rambling]

Aw balls. I almost forgot an intro

Hi, I'm Katie! I'm a writer with two ongoing wips that I like yammering about, so ima do it here!

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 20

Other interests: art, dnd, the Magnus Archives, anything Cosmere related, martial arts, Critical Roll

.

My wips are set in the same universe, on the planet of Illaros, fifth from the last star left living in the universe. There's a continent, some islands, and other assorted junk down there. The gods have a dyson ring, but they don't like to talk about it. The stars are the eyes of an ancient primordial force of destruction.

Honor's Outcasts follows a rag-tag group of delinquents trying to survive psycho pirates with family ties, a siren theocracy, magic that rots in your blood, and the Horrors. Their number includes such mighty heros as: a kid who can explode people with her mind, a buff shark lady who survives regular eldritch encounters by not paying attention, a mute aroace siren man with a bitchy attitude, and the world's sweetest gang mamber. Of course, they're one big family, and what's family without a little religious terrorism?

The Mystery of the Mortal God asks what happens when magic and science collide in a world where ethics panels haven't been established yet. Set a few decades down the line from HO, this story follows a cowboy witch with a chip on her shoulder as she discovers a mysterious robot laying broken and confused on the side of the road. At the same time, in a city on the other side of the globe, a blue blooded detective investigates a cold case suddenly gone hot. In time, all players will meet, including the mage who set this whole conundrum in motion.

The Final Voyage of the R.S. Starbreaker is sci-fi with ghosts! More accurately, as the magical societies of Illaros take their first steps into space, they don't use unmanned probes, but instead call upon the gods to send ghosts to be bound to a mighty runic galleon: the R.S. Starbreaker. This first skeleton crew consists of an honorable former Flying City pilot with a seedy past, a brash elven astronomer infamous for her incomplete work, a meticulous selkie cartographer determined to map the solar wheel, a laid-back fae man with a dangerous set of ideals, and the key to this mission's success: a former part of an eldritch hive mind on a hunt for his extinct people's missing afterlife.

.

Anyways, if you're here, feel free to say hi! I'll mostly be posting whatever bullshit comes to mind, but maybe you'll get lucky and something entertaining will come out? I certainly hope so!

Have a bitchin' day <3

.

An addition! Here are my characters' playlists! (And intros for those who have them) (All instrumental because I can't write while listening to vocals)

Izjik Meautammera +intro

Sepo Kaiacynthus +intro

Twenari Devaris +intro

Djek Kagura +intro

Daedryn Whitenight

Astra DuClaire +intro

Mashal Darezsho +intro

Ivander Montane +intro

Elsind Cavernsight +intro

Avymere Spearsong +intro

Ghost Ship Radio + wip intro (for the Starbreaker crew)

.

A second addition! Please feel welcome to check out my new Illaros library! These are short stories written (mostly) in my setting that I've shared before on here, but I figured I'd put all the links in one place :)

Down in the Deep Dark - 2,500 words - The tale of how Izjik and Sepo met

Violating the 4th - 11,000 words - Coverage of the first Surgeon case from the POV of Ceyrel (Ivander’s detective partner)

Rel's Haunting - 16,000 words - A story of a fallen angel, the dead god who made them, and finding wonder in the supermarket

Full Saturation - 2,000 words - A short horror story set on modern Earth about saturation diving and places better left untouched

And for some one-shots:

Mashal and Ivander hanging out

Izjik making Sepo a flute in the Trench

The cast of Mortal God gets a beach episode

Mashal teaches Astra to ride a horse

Again, have a bitchin' day <3

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

oooo!! ooooo!! 30 with a ghost reader????

A ghost reader? I love it!

30. Dying ain't so bad, not if it means staying with you.

------------------------------

Being a vampire came with a lot of perks. You got to live forever, and you would never grow old. You could do whatever you wanted, have all the freedom a single living being could get. Nothing to worry about, no jobs to go to, no rent to be paid. It was simply a very relaxing existence - at least, that's what Marko told me when he first met me.

Vampires have abilities, and some of them are stronger in one vampire than the other. That's why David would always take the initiation games, being the best at mind tricks. Paul was great with manipulating prey, Dwayne was lucky enough to not be bothered by things like holy water, and Marko? Well, he got a rather unlucky gift, if I were to say so myself. Then, of course, if he hadn't had this ability, he wouldn't have met me.

Being a vampire meant you had to kill. A lot. In the younger years, when you had just turned, it could mean several kills per night. When a vampire got older, it could mean several per month. Still, the fact was that as a vampire, one killed a lot. And for most vampires it wasn't a problem. It did become a problem however, when said vampire realised that he excelled at sensing the supernatural. In such a way, that he could not only sense it, but see it.

It was a real meet awkward when we met. After all, my corpse still laid in his arms as he finished ripping out my throat.

"Was that really necessary?" I'd asked, turning my nose up at the sight of my by now disfigured body.

"Who the fuck are you?"

"You just killed me? Why would you do that? What the fuck are you? And why if you killed me -" This was the moment that I realised I was indeed dead and that I was somehow still talking.

"You're a ghost."

"What?!"

"Why the fuck do I see ghosts? Nothing against you, you're cute and all, but -"

"Couldn't you have decided that before you killed me?"

Well, that was the start of an unlikely yet very strong friendship. Marko was the only one who could see me constantly. Since he killed me and took one of my bracelets with him - a piece made of volcano rock and shark teeth - I was linked to him. Well, my bracelet really, but since he wore it, I had no choice but to be in a close vicinity.

There were days when David could see me too, although it was only ever from the corner of his eye. It annoyed him, not being capable of seeing me. Dwayne was able to see me more often, but according to him, I was literally fading in and out of his vision. It made conversations difficult. Paul, dear Paul, tried his very best to see me. He really did. He tried everything he could think of, even going as far as using an ouija bord. No matter what he tried, to him, I was an invisible presence.

For thirty years, I spent every waking moment with Marko, enjoying his company. I went with them to the boardwalk, riding with Marko, visiting the stores he did - him entering through the door and me easily stepping through the walls. We spent a lot of time together, and I knew - and so did Marko, even though he didn't like to admit it - that he regretted killing me. We worked together. We could be a thing, a good thing. But dating as a ghost, it's hard.

I couldn't make myself corporal. Every touch went right through me. As much as I sometimes longed to hold him, to hold his hand or touch his hair, to feel his lips against my skin - I couldn't. He couldn't. As close as we were, as much as we cared for each other, we were still worlds apart.

It happened one morning when I was wandering the backrooms of the cave, wondering if I'd ever find another ghost here, when I heard screaming. I heard him screaming. I hurried back as fast as I could, running so quickly that I was practically flying. I jumped through the last rock wall, landing directly beside him. He laid on the floor, a large stake stuck in his stomach, part of it piercing his heart.

"No..." I looked at him, wishing I could do something. "Please don't die, don't leave me..."

He blinked, a rare soft smile on his face. "You're here."

I nodded, hovering over him. I longed to hold him, to kiss him, to tell him I could fix this, that I could save him. The boys had run after his assailant. I was alone with him, and I couldn't do anything to help him.

"I don't want you to die," I told him softly, "there's so much more time I want to spend with you."

"Dying ain't so bad," he said softly, his voice weakening, "not if it means staying with you."

"Promise me, you'll come back like I did. Please," I cried, invisible tears rolling down my cheeks. "I don't want to do this without you!"

I got no response. His body lay still. I wept, thinking of the things I never had the chance to tell him.

"You can stop crying now," I froze as I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up, seeing the same vampire I had seen die mere moments ago.

"Marko?!" I jumped up, holding him tightly. I hugged him, finally able to hold him, to breathe in his scent, to feel what it was truly like to be with him.

"I told you I'd stay with you."

[thegnomelord]

Shark

- 🦈

(WOBSVHDVUH. HOLY MOTHER OF SHARKS. HOW DO YOU WRITE SO GOOD. Gosh you, darn you, daum you. Fuel my god daum brainrot.

Now im thinkin of angst. DONT WRITE IT, I CANNOT HANDLE YOUR WRITING IN ANGST. THIS IS JUST A BRAIN BLURB.

Price is close to death whether it be the ultimte battle between the destruction of all that can die or of a horrid enemy, they have yet to defeat.

Price is alive, but too far to be ever saved. The boys want to summon their captain's ole friend, to say a well had goodbye, maybe even save him. But no books, no scrolls, nor anything etched in stone on the surface depicts them. Nothing.

Price dies knowing hes lived a good life, praying to all the gods that his beloved eldritch dosent destroy the surface he called home.

The only way the poor eldritch finds out, are when Prices ashes are swallowed by the waves.

In every storm, waves tower over the heights of skyscraper, to the point not even those that could fly can cross. Death is quick when it comes to the ocean, like it trying to collect all power it can withhold. Creatures are cruel when it comes to what has killed their gods beloved, relentlessly acttacting what they can. Sharks are rare, to the point their sighting have come near myth or legend. Yet, they will always come come towards any that is draconic for they miss them. Ocean creatures, humanoid or not, would cry with no control, close to fire, dragons or smoke. They grieve. They all grieve.

But, Dragons seem to live longer when close to the waves. Saving them in dire situations when the fall from they sky, wounds healed when submerged in the salty sea. Even if you were pure fire, absolute whole magma. You'd be saftely cradled in any and all water. Water is the safest, the safest they have ever felt in all of their exsistence. They know this feeling, it is old, it is familiar, it is embedded in blood.

For the ocean rembers, it always remembers.)

Okay honestly your brain farts are always so good but. . . But . . . I'm so sorry sharky. This came to before you even wrote your ask and now I have to do it, you're just the sacrificial goat. . .

CW: SFW, angst, made myself cry :/ Got some idea inspo from @heliumknife

John Price doesn't die on a notable day. He doesn't die on the day of reckoning, doesn't die on the day fire rains from the sky and blood muddles your oceans, doesn't die alongside human gods, doesn't die on the day he may meet what made him and hear he was a good man.

John Price dies on a regular Tuesday night.

Not even a blip on the radar.

Having saved the oblivious world yet again he retches a bloodied cough as he stumbles on the beach he'd ended up on. His legs give out, the course sand rubbing his skin when he falls, red blood slowly seeping between the grains. Distantly he can hear his boys calling for him, watching the waves wash onto the shore, the tide too low to reach him; too low for you to sense him.

He can feel Gaz scrambling to stem his bleeding, Soap desperately searching through the first aid kit, Ghost barking on the coms that Price is hit. And as the world begins to grow quiet, the low murmur of waves washing upon the sand filling his ears, washed up amber glittering in his blurring eyes, the scent of seaweed and brine filling his rapidly slowing lungs—

Price smiles — he'll slumber with you soon.

Only when the morning tide comes in do you sense his blood, do you rouse from the depths like lightning, waking from a nightmare to find it has followed you to the waking world.

You're too late.

Like always.

He's so still.

Peaceful — worry lines and wrinkles smoothed out and face relaxed you could delude yourself into thinking he's just sleeping. Oh those dragons with their slumber; he'll grumble when you go to wake him, demanding five more bloody minutes of your attention as if he's the god here. Cling to you like a barnacle and growling like a kitten until you give in and lay down next to him. Give a rumbling purr and laugh at how he got a god wrapped around his finger until you shut him up with a kiss.

But you can't.

Your vessel's eyes keep darting to the blood staining his clothes, the crusted red lines trailing from his lip down his chin, the stillness of his chest, the silence.

They tell you John Price died protecting his team from a brutal foe. John Price died protecting the world. John Price died protecting the very people who in your recent shared memory had been happy to sharpen sticks and melt rock into to steel all in an vain attempt at glory. . .

John Price died a hero.

Your John died.

And you weren't there.

"Hey. . ." You look at Gaz when he speaks, standing on the opposite side of the medical table they've laid his body on. ". . .I know you two were, close." He chokes up, voice rough and nasally, fresh tear tracks staining his cheeks.

You envy him for it. For once you wish you were the ant on a circuit board instead of it's maker, just so you could see the world like they do, mourn like they do — open, visible, showing you cared, showing he wasn't just a toy in your sandbox. That Price was the voice you'd hear when loosening the noose of the rope, the beckoning call beyond the reach of your waves, the one that held that wretched excuse you call a heart.

But you can't.

All your treacherous vessel manages to achieve is a small dip in the corner of your lip. "So were you." Your voice is low and garbled like you're drowning, the rumble of icebergs scraping on the ocean floor filling the silence behind each syllable.

Gaz flinches like he'd been slapped, unable to look at the man he loved as much as you did. "Yeah," His gaze flickers everywhere like fleeing fishes in a reef, "I'm sorry." He blurts out.

"Don't be." You don't look at him, your cold hand reaching out to trace Price's jaw, coarse beard scratching your flesh. "You loved him when I couldn't." A part of you wants to be angry at Gaz for harboring John's affection and attention, that it's not fair for him to be able to mourn when you've known your John long before Athenians and Spartans decided to throw hissy fits in your waters. But you can't call yourself a lover he deserved when you met him so rarely, a blink of the eye for you and a century passes.

"Are you going to kill us now?" Kyle asks, not scared, as if he's expecting it.

It shames you, but you thought about it; of sea life growing gigantic and voracious under your influence, of making the sky weep in your stead, of violent waves rising up and devouring the planet for taking away your world. What's the point of it's existence when the one who made it shine has been snuffed out?

"No," You sigh in resignation. You can't, not while there are still people and places John loved, not while vestiges of him remain. You can't kill what's left of him, protect them like you couldn't do with him.

Gaz tells you they plan to cremate him in line with dragon customs, only to take a step back when you pick your John up to cradle in your arms, his loose wing draping over your shoulder, his head resting on your shoulder, nose buried in your neck as if he's scenting you once again.

"I'll come to collect the rest of you when you pass." You say before disappearing with Price, because if you had to answer Gaz's questions — Why are you taking his body when you weren't even there when he died? Why do you act like you care when you saw him so rarely? Why are you taking him away from Gaz when he was the one who loved Price? What gives you the right? — you would have drowned a country.

Water rushes around him the moment you are back in your element, holding him in a cradle made of your waters like the first time he'd fallen into the ocean so many millennia ago. Water bubbles escape his open mouth as your waves caress and kiss each inch of him, crusted blood muddling the brine around him as you pull him as close to your real body as you can.

Searching.

You can feel his soul once your waters have kissed every inch of his skin, faint yet stubbornly clinging on somewhere in the aether, no doubt giving Death a headache.

You were once a soul too were you not? Just a dead thing too dumb to know it died; somewhere deep beneath the individual writhing sharks and decaying corpses and fossilized bone making up your body resides your original one, nothing but a chunk of rock with the imprint of what you had as a skeleton at the time.

For if Death doesn't come to claim it, a soul won't die until the body's gone. You had slipped past the cracks, grew fat and large on the other souls until Death could no longer touch you without fear of being swallowed whole.

You doubt it would let Price slip through like it had with you, fortunately you put claim on his soul long ago. You swim to the deepest part of the earth where burning geothermal vents spew minerals into freezing cold waters, where you slumber and feed on the souls of the dead.

You curl around him, living and dead bodies parting until Price rests wrapped around the oldest part of you.

Embracing you like he always wanted to.

He waited so long for you.

Now it's your turn to wait. This time you will be there.

And if the oceans above rage for months, if the season long rain floods the streets, if the weather makes it so that in the crushing depths no one can pick out your tears from the ocean brine, all the better.

[pupsmailbox]

MOTH︰BUTTERFLY ID PACK

NAMES ⌇　acantha.　adela.　adley.　aetheria.　aiden.　ainsley.　alis.　allison.　amos.　angle.　ankova.　antler.　apollo.　apple.　arches.　arden.　argent.　ari.　aruna.　ashworth.　aspen.　asteria.　astralyn.　atlas.　barberry.　bay.　bee.　belina.　bellamy.　belle.　blair.　blake.　blossom.　bright.　brighton.　bryn.　butter.　butterfleigh.　butterfly.　cadi.　cai.　calesia.　cali.　canary.　carson.　cayana.　chai.　cherry.　chouko.　cinnabar.　cistus.　clancy.　clifden.　cloud.　clover.　cosmia.　crimson.　daisy.　dakota.　december.　dewick.　dorian.　dot.　dusk.　dust.　eclipse.　eilira.　eilliot.　ellison.　elnora.　emerald.　ermina.　ermine.　esmerelda.　esther.　evelyn.　evern.　falena.　fern.　finley.　fisher.　flora.　fly.　flynn.　forest.　fox.　foxglove.　galatea.　galium.　garnet.　ghost.　ginny.　greta.　grey.　haden.　haven.　hawk.　haworth.　hayden.　heath.　herald.　hesperia.　holli.　hollis.　isabella.　ismeria.　isola.　jael.　jayden.　jersey.　july.　june.　juniper.　juno.　kahli.　kai.　karran.　karson.　kentish.　kimko.　kit.　kori.　lace.　lackey.　langmaid.　lepida.　light.　luca.　lucy.　luna.　lunar.　malam.　maple.　march.　mariposa.　marlow.　marrow.　mars.　may.　micah.　mirza.　mocha.　molie.　monroe.　moth.　mothra.　mothy.　nettle.　november.　oak.　ocaria.　oleander.　opal.　palmyra.　paru.　parvaneh.　peach.　pearl.　pepper.　pine.　pinion.　plume.　poppy.　psyche.　quinn.　reed.　reid.　rekoa.　remi.　riband.　ricki.　robin.　rose.　rosy.　rowan.　ruby.　rufous.　sable.　saffron.　saga.　saige.　scarlet.　scotch.　sibylla.　silver.　skyler.　sula.　swift.　tara.　tate.　tatum.　tawny.　tera.　thora.　tiger.　una.　vanessa.　violet.　virginia.　weaver.　winter.　wren.　yara.　zephyr.　zephyra.　zion.　zoumi.

PRONOUNS ⌇　admir/admiral.　ant/antenna.　anten/antenna.　antler/antler.　apple/apple.　blood/blood.　blue/blue.　bu/butterfly.　bug/bug.　butter/butterfly.　carpet/carpet.　chalk/chalk.　cherry/cherrie.　chrysalis/chrysali.　clear/clearwing.　cloud/cloud.　cocoo/cocoon.　cocoon/cocoon.　dagger/dagger.　dark/dark.　dew/dew.　dot/dot.　dusk/dusk.　dust/dust.　erm/ermine.　eye/eye.　flame/flame.　flap/flap.　flow/flower.　flu/fluttflutter.　fluff/fluff.　fluff/luff.　flutter/flutter.　fly/fly.　forest/forest.　fri/fritillary.　frit/fritillery.　goat/goat.　gold/gold.　hair/hairstreak.　hawk/hawk.　hawk/hawkmoth.　heart/heart.　hide/hide.　hook/hook.　in/insect.　insect/insect.　lace/lace.　lamp/lamp.　leaf/leaf.　lepidoptera/lepidoptera.　light/light.　lu/luna.　luna/luna.　lunar/lunar.　maple/maple.　mo/monarch.　mo/moth.　mocha/mocha.　moon/moon.　mor/morpho.　moth/moth.　nec/nectar.　night/night.　night/night.　nocturnal/nocturnal.　noct/nocturnal.　oak/oak.　plume/plume.　reed/reed.　riph/ripheu.　rose/rose.　sallow/sallow.　shark/shark.　sil/silk.　silk/silk.　small/small.　snout/snout.　squeak/squeak.　squeak/squeaker.　stripe/stripe.　sul/sulphur.　swa/swallow.　swa/tail.　swall/swallowtail.　swift/swift.　tiny/tiny.　tuss/tussock.　wax/waxe.　wing/wing.　☁️ . ⭐️ . 🌕 . 💡 . 🦋 .

[istadris]

Temeraire the Musical

I mentioned in another post that we could do it, so let's-a goooo, at least for Act I :

The first song introduces the situation (the war and Napoleon and all war) as well as Laurence's leitmotive/main theme : a solemn sea shanty, a rhythm easy to fall in to show his adhesion to order and cohesion and yet having a longing for companionship and the sea/sky.

Laurence's leitmotiv evolves through the story as his ideals get more and more broken. At least two reprises of Laurence's song, one after his treason, with a broken, dissonant, minor version, and one after he regains his memories and makes peace with who he is and what he has done and why he's more satisfised with who he is now than who he was before

Second song is the capture of the french ship, the discovery of the egg and the question of who will harness it ; it serves to introduce the rumours and prejudice about aviators, with the chorus having worrying "who will harness it ? Who will claim the beast?" The last verse has Temeraire's egg hatching, everyone holding their breath as he starts poking around... and the spoken line "Why are you frowning ?"

Temeraire's first song starts right after that line and it's a fast paced song with a flurry of questions to which Laurence (and the rest of the crew) answers the best he can. Sometimes the question raises a very complicated Point to answer, which it serves as a silent beat as Laurence is unable to answer before Temeraire goes on with the next series of questions

Remember how Hiccup and Toothless' leitmotivs are different but mingle together beautifully in Test Drive ? So do Laurence and Temeraire's .

Volly has a song. It's short and very silly and very cute and it's an earworm of the worst kind. Baby Shark but dragon musical style!

Laurence's introduction to the Corps has a song with Rankin serving as first as an expository narrator, setting the tune and seemingly friendly and in tune with Laurence's own melody, but at some point the song starts shifting as Laurence questions some of the methods of the aviators (why is no one reading to their dragons? Why does no one take off their harness ? Why is Levitas' captain always away) until it ends on Rankin casually mentioning he's Levitas' captain.

I'm sorry but if Celeritas doesn't get a version of this song as he trains Laurence, Temeraire and the rest of the bunch, then what is the point ?? But more seriously, as it comes right after the revelation of Rankin's abuse of Levitas, Laurence realises why everyone is so cold to him and both him and Temeraire gets through a bit of bullying before their first actions in battle earn them the respect of the formation and crews.

Laurence and Jane have a duet which, at first sight, sounds like a perfectly innocent discussion between fellow officers about the war, and Emily, and dragons, and whatnot, establishing more of Jane's badass personality and incredible presence. Except it becomes quickly clear that Jane's part is also loaded with innuendos completely flying over Laurence's head. Poor Laurence doesn't realize his own part is making the innuendos worse.

Oh, Emily definitely gets a song. And it's the more innocent version of the double discussion Laurence has with her mother.

Laurence's beating down of Rankin is both awesome and tragic. A song full of rage and sorrow, with Laurence taking conscience he's broken rules for a dragon and yet doesn't give a damn -but still thinks of Rankin as the bad apple rather than the logical conclusion of an abusive system putting dragons at the mercy of their captains since their hatching. Ahem.

The battle of Dover is definitely the end of Act I song, with Temeraire's first Divine Wind being a high point of the song, foretold by Laurence and Temeraire's theme becoming one in their passion and loyalty for England and for each other.

Napoleon's theme is hinted through the entire act, but we never see the man himself; a ghost whose shadow threatens to engulf all of Europe.

And that's for Act I !

I'll admit that if I ever adapted this story into a musical, there would sadly be things to cut out of the story, but that'll be for another post.

If you have any additions or ideas, please tell me!

[sodatabs-ontherun]

hello!

☆°hello I'm soda tabs!°☆

♤I go by they/he/ve/vem/void/voidthem (may change I'm gender fluid)♤

This blog is for my silly alterhuman stuff

Tags I use

Quaddrobics: jumping silly

Alterhuman rants: the cat is screaming

Mask/gear: cat made art

○☆My kin types are:

Theriotypes: grey wolf, fox (x2), African wild dog, aussie herding dog, tiger, house cat, mink, elk, snowy owl, ox, vampire bat, loin, koi fish, cheeta, clown fish,jipsy vanner horse, otter,crow, dolfin, spider, dingo, snake, whale shark,coyote

Other kin types: angel

Fictionkins:sandwing, nightwing, seawing, sentinels (md) livi (md oc) lizzy (md), cyn (md), n(md) key bugs (md) j (md) nifty (hazbin hotel) drift loom, nori (murder drones) Caine tadc

Plant kins:weeping willow, pumpkin, vernus fly trap,Marimo moss ball

Concept kin: liminal space, Halloween conspet kin,

Song link/kin: ghost rule, the vampire, anonymous m, bite me, this. P3t (by femtanyl)

Coping link/kin: beanie baby, pomni

°•☆51 in all☆•°

Questioning:,lilly pad, toucan, song birds, duck, jelly fish, death angel, godkin, hatsune miku, tulip Caine (tadc)

☆•I do have past lives and things!•☆

If you have any questions ask via ask, or just statements in general,

And pedophiles, zoophiles, antis, Transphobes, homophobes, and all that fun will be blocked from my blog (Get away from me lol)

Please don't send me realistic pictures of insects or spiders and all that jazz (alive or dead) I'm ok with cartoons tho ♡

DNI IF YOU HAVE A NFSW BLOG OR ANYTHING WEIRD, especially on my quads vids I wanna keep myself safe from that kinda stuff

Dni if you discriminate against age

Example: "your 12 just shut up"

°•☆This is my other ask blog bc I'm a oc kin lol so check it out if you like lol☆•°

https://www.tumblr.com/livi-is-a-silly-guy

This is my indie show that I'm making and would love for yall to check it out!♡♡♡♡

♡☆○°have fun°○☆♡

[sopiao]

hiii, hope ur doing well both mentally and physically. :)))

can i request like a young, gen z, member of the 141 and konig. and just general scenarios and headcannons of what the base would be like???

-🧸

YEAH YEAH YEAH

dw pookies, i’ll always be ok writing for yall!!!

i’ve seen so many of these n there so creative 😭😭

this was def fun to write but i needed my bf for help on some.

(using my callsign again :3 ‘Shark’)

Not even a question that Shark would disrupt both Soap and Ghost to teach them how to do the stanky leg. Soap was literal ass with it, stiff and awkward, but he got the general idea.

Shark and Soap had to practically beg Ghost to do it, on their knees and hands clamped together. Shark even offered the last 7 dollars in their bank account for him to do it. Eventually he caved in. Surprisingly he’s actually really good, pretty smooth with it. But never again that this would happen. When pigs fly.

—

It was a daily occurrence for Shark to pester and poke at every member of the team. Today, it was König’s misfortune to be Shark’s victim today. Sitting in the common room while you bounced beside him. Hands up and guarding like you were boutta fight someone.

“Punch you in the face, elbow you in the face” You said in a stupid voice while fake punching him, stopping just before you actually touch him.

“Neck slice!” You take a little spin and hold the edge of your hand to his clothed neck. All König does is sigh and look up at you, obvious dark eye bags under his eyes.

—

Gaz suggested that everyone have a shared playlist amongst everyone, helps bring everyone closer, and it’ll be fun to listen to each others’ music while on mission or during training.

It was a good idea at first with everyone adding in their own songs. A weird mixed jumble of everyone unique and different music taste. But Shark’s was the most different, stuck out like a sore thumb. You could even tell when Shark would subtly do a little dance whenever it came on during a mission.

“My d-ck is big. My d-ck is very big. My d-ck is big, is big, is very very big” It boomed through the speakers of the training room, everyone froze or stopped their sparring when they heard the song. The only person who continued was Shark, swaying their hips a little to the beat of the song.

(Big Dick by Little Big)

—

Sweeping and empty establishment for any potential leftover enemies. König behind Shark against the wall with Price, Soap, Gaz, and Ghost against the other. It was an old apartment. Something caught Shark’s eye. Putting their hand up for everyone to stop.

Everyone thinking that they caught something, but instead they pull out their phone and take a photo of the four against a blue wall.

“What is it?” Gaz asks, wondering if they really did catch something but rolled his eyes when Shark started laughing at the fresh picture on their phone. Four men standing in front of a blue wall.

“You wouldn’t get it” They chuckled before stuffing their phone back in and signaling for everyone to continue.

“Remind me not to let them be lead again” Price muttered.

—

“Are you sure this is 100% safe to drink?” Gaz asked as he stared down at his cup, trying not to breathe in it’s toxic fumes.

“I’m pretty sure this stuff is radioactive” Ghost muttered under his breath. Holding the glass up to inspect it like it was a new found alien.

“I’m sure the old geezer would kick the bucket after a whiff of this” Soap chuckled to himself, earning a hard back of the head blow from the captain.

“You guys are being dramatic” Shark rolled their eyes. Earlier in the day, they begged Price to take them to buy something they wanted all of them to try. After enough begging and pleading he caved in.

“I don’t think zis is a good idea” König looked up at you, taking a single gummy worm from the rim as a little treat.

It was a mix of monster, half filled with cherry slushee, sour gummy worms rimming the plastic martini glass, 2 War beads dropped at the bottom, simmering at the top, a handful of sour patch kids, baby bottle pop powder mixed in, and a little bit of blue gatorade.

They saw it on social media and wanted to try it out, it wasn’t like it would be a daily drink, just to try it once. (Seriously though, do not consume this on a regular basis, let alone at all).

After enough hyping up, pep talk, and a countdown. They all took a mouthful of their witches potion concoction. Gaz spit it out, Ghost almost gagged, and Soap lost his vison. Price took it surprisingly well. Not even Shark was able to swallow half of it.

It gave them weird jitters and a big boost in energy. In one night they were able to deep clean the entire base, finally organize the arsenal, somehow separate all of the cereals. The marshmallows from the lucky charms, separate all the colors of the Fruit loops, and remove all the raisins in Raisin Bran.

They all woke up the next day feeling like they drank 19 gallons of alcohol the night before. Price slept like a baby, he actually felt a lil more energized when he woke up.

—

Price had been walking around all day, searching for Shark to ask for one of their reports. He knocks and barges into Gaz’s barracks. Finding him laying on his stomach on his bed and a comic book in front of him.

“Gaz, have ya’ seen Shark anywhere?” Price walks in with his hands on his hips. Gaz looks up at his captain then back at Shark that’s been discretely following close behind him for the past 10 minutes he’s been searching.

Looked at his captain, back to Shark, who shook their head and made and x with their fingers.

“Ehh.. No?” He hesitated, finding it amusing but needing to keep in a steady front.

“Al’right, champ. Thanks” He shakes his head before leaving the room with the missing soldier behind him, Price muttering frustrated remarks as he continues to search.

—

Shark took it upon themselves to make a little cup of coffee for Price since they know he likes to drink a cup in the morning. Placing it in front of him and taking a seat next to their captain with a cup in front of them.

“Aww. Thanks, kid! You didn’t have to” He smiles warmly at them before taking a deep sip of his cup. Watching his soldier do the same he notices it isn’t coffee. A more clear, pale-yellowish kind of color with steam coming off of it.

“Didn’t know we had tea. What kind did you make?” He initiates conversation, still looking down at his little sudoku puzzle on the newspaper.

“Tea?”

“What— What are you drinking?” He looked up at them then back at the mystery drink in front of them.

“Oh. I just boiled a can of Red Bull”.

“What—“.

“What”.

—

Walking into the lobby with a watermelon in one hand and metal knife in the other, except the actual blade was broken in the middle of the watermelon. They all stared at Shark, then the watermelon.

“We need a new knife”.

—

Waking up at 2 AM, sleepily stumbling into the bathroom, Price walked into the bathroom for a midnight piss. After he was done he walked by Soap’s barracks, seeing the light was on and the door was cracked open.

Opening the door, he saw Soap and Shark in their pjs, sitting on the bed with their backs turned toward him. They both froze and looked at each other.

“What’re ya’ doin’ so late at night?” He roughly grumbled and leaned against the doorframe, eyes still adjusting to the light. But, they wouldn’t turn to look at him, just answering and nodding their head.

“What are ya’ doing?” He asked more concerned and confused this time. Noticing how they wouldn’t face him and was super dismissive. Now that he was directly behind them, they accepted defeat and looked up. Both with pink bow or bunny headbands and a sheet face mask on each of them.

“What”.

A couple minutes later he’s laying on his stomach with a matching sheet mask and a black cat headband. Talking to his soldiers about his wife. Soap and Shark listening intently.

—

Visiting Shark’s home while they’re on a health leave to check on them, they all sat on the country house porch—Shark’s casted leg up on a stool— and talked about the missions they missed out on and how they were doing.

Gaz and König were playing and messing around with the farm animals, König’s was more petting and loving on the cows and goats while Gaz was feeding the little duckies.

König was running around, the cows playfully chasing him as he did.

“NO, LITTLE GERMAN BOY! DONT RUN INTO THE ELECTRIC FENCE” Shark called out once they saw him getting a little too close.

“Oh, mein gott! Zis fence is full of shocken!”

(Yes, I know he’s not german).

[latibvles]

YOU LEFT ME IN THE DARK.

or the “vivbucky make impulsive questionable decisions in the hours before Münster” fic that’s been rotating in my head for a couple months. adults doing consensual things under the cut even if the reasons for said consensual things aren’t the best. check it out here on AO3!

The smell of fuel and blood burns her nose, engines roaring loud in her ears. Heart pounding, blood pumping like it just might burst from her pulse points and drench everything. Her palms are sweaty and the only thing keeping her breathing evenly is necessity. Willie’s whiter than a ghost next to her, bleeding all over everything until Lena gets to her. It’s all loud and fiery and a chunk of burning metal thunks against the wing of the Mouse Hole. If there is a God, then he’s probably the one thing keeping their feathered engines from going up in smoke, blowing them all to smithereens.

If there is a God, she’s got a bone to pick with him.

Her head hurts almost as much as her hand does.

The pub is quieter and devoid of the faces she knows — or rather, cares to know. Which is fine, because she has no will left to be composed and quite frankly doesn’t owe anyone as much. Harding can chastise her about fighting later, if he even would. Which he won’t, so it wasn’t like any of it matters. She couldn’t be worried anymore, now she’s just angry.

Her ears have been ringing for the past twenty-four hours and her knee’s bouncing with all the energy she’s unable to expend.

Viv wants to break something. Or scream, maybe. Theoretically she could get away with it; that’d been the point of heading into town anyway — less eyes, less correspondents waiting for her to fuck up. Sharks waiting to catch that first scent of blood, waiting to finally see her break. It’d be a helluva story.

Shit, they got Buck!

Fucking— Lena get down here. Willie’s hit!

She’s still breathing! Buck— er, Our Baby, how many ‘chutes?!

I don’t see any!

Her hands never shake when she flies and yet they were trembling then. Still trembling now, like she’s some kind of insufferable whistling tea kettle. She thinks her ability to land the plane like that is one of the many wonders of the human condition. She felt nothing when it happened. She doesn’t feel much now, either.

Well, besides being angry, which at this point is a constant thrumming in her system — synonymous with the blood in her veins and oxygen in her lungs. But it’s not especially useful, like blood or air. It’s just enough to ensure they’re still flying the next mission, rain or shine. Harding wanted them to sit the next one out but Viv wouldn’t be able to stand that either. She flies a bus that could do damage and by God does she want to do some serious fucking damage. Her hand tightens on the crystal glass as she raises it to her lips and lets whiskey coat her throat.

She wants to hit something.

She’s already done that, but the itch is still there. An incessant scratch. Not because she should do it, but because she can and because what else is there to do. She didn’t consider herself an instigator but here she is, entire body itching for a fight. Or, more aptly, itching for another one — her knuckles throb with a painful reminder of the nose she’d broken a few blocks down and she doesn’t really remember what was the spark of that. Not that it matters. Her hands are a little bloody and it isn’t enough.

The door opens and shuts. The bar is so quiet that she can hear it loud in her ears, over the roar of engines and the shouting.

Bucky doesn’t greet her like he would’ve before. He just sits beside her — startlingly sharp, similarly miserable, and a whole day early. She can feel his presence like an unshakeable poltergeist latching itself to her person to torment her further. Viv wasn’t the one to tell him Buck went down when he called and she doesn’t think she would’ve had the stomach to anyway. Cowardly. They all ducked out of doing it to avoid whatever state he’d be in upon finding out. Evidently, Viv still draws the shortest straw. 

She doesn’t have to look at him to know that sorrow’s already taken its hold of him when she’s been there since yesterday afternoon.

He gets himself a drink and the bartender takes her empty glass. Viv’s knuckles rap against the bartop, lacking a proper rhythm  and he takes note of that. Because of course he does. Because in knowing her, Bucky’s made a point to notice everything she does and Viv hates him for it.

His eyes settle then, on her hands. Her fists still sting. Her throat still burns. And she’s still angry enough for her hands to ball further where they rest against the bar top. A little bead of red pearls where she’d split one of her knuckles. Bucky kisses his teeth.

“Looks bad.” He states. There’s no tease there, no chuckle. It’s falling flat and she’s falling with it.

“Should see the other guy.”

“I don’t give a damn about the other guy.” There is no curl of a grin to his lips, no glint to his eye, no flash of teeth accompanying the words. Just his eyes, fixated on her fists with an unreadable expression before he gets his drink.

He doesn’t even sit with it. He shoots it and orders another. There’s an itemized list of all the right things to say but they all sound stupid coming from her mouth, so she opts for silence. It’s not like that’s something they haven’t dealt in before. Very few people would think he could be fluent in silence — but sometimes, Bucky could take the hint that his jokes wouldn’t land. Sometimes he can’t be bothered to make them, so he doesn’t.

If she wasn’t so angry, she’d express some kind of gratitude for that.

The bartender slides her another whiskey too, and she watches condensation slide down the side of the glass — a fat droplet pooling against polished wood.

“You flying tomorrow?” she asks finally, already knowing the answer.

“Does that bother you?” His tone is halfway between sharp and indifferent. Her jaw clenches, she slams back the drink in her hand to keep from saying something crueler than it needs to be.

“If it did, would it matter?” She counters, because it’s slightly kinder than Don’t be an idiot, Bucky. Of course it does. She turns her head to look at him, squinting slightly. Bucky kisses his teeth, says nothing to that, which is as much of an admittance as any that no, it wouldn’t. It’d make her a hypocrite, anyway. Harding’s pulling strings he doesn’t have just to get her in the air tomorrow because she half-begged for it. She’s the last person who needs to be telling anyone else to stand down.

It’d been a mission in and of itself to get Jo to listen, which was a surprise. She would’ve figured spilling hot coffee all over her own uniform would’ve been more of a deterrent. 

One hand falls behind her chair, landing on top of the back rest — his thumb pressing into the center of her spine. She can’t tell if it’s deliberate or just Bucky being Bucky; craving contact and burning her in the process. He gets his second drink — or more aptly, a shot — downs it and licks whatever remains from his lips.

“How’s Willie?”

“Dunno. You should ask Brady.” The bitterness there isn’t directed at Brady. It’s not directed at anything, really. Maybe if she nips enough times, he’ll be deterred into leaving her the hell alone before she actually bites at him. Before she says something cruel for the sake of it. Once again, not because she should, but because she could, and she’s angry and has nowhere to put it. It’s not like she’s especially hard-pressed to punch him, not even if he asked that of her.

Bucky’s not deterred though. His thumb drags up her back and she shivers, jaw clenching. Deliberate, then. Goddammit Bucky. She shuts her eyes for a moment, huffing as the tip of his thumb drags back down almost lazily — a direct contrast to the piercing stare he’s fixed on her, unmoving as he tries to peel back the layers. She wants to tell him to fuck off and just worry about himself for once, but even in his current state it’s like self preservation isn’t in his DNA.

She laughs humorlessly at the assessment. Pot, meet Kettle.

The gesture alone makes her feel warm, suffocated, an itch manifesting beneath her skin that she can’t scratch. Or, more aptly, one that she shouldn’t scratch and she isn’t going to indulge. It just ends in knuckles and teeth. They’re a sad sight, the pair of them, scowls on their faces and empty glasses.

His brow raises at her bout of laughter. She tells him as much. We’re a real sad sight.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

“And what makes you say that?” There’s something about the tone of it that sparks something in her — jaw clenching, an ache behind her temples.

“Why’re you here, Bucky?” Viv snaps, unsure if she means it or not. Even with the bite his hand doesn’t recoil, like it’ll anchor her to the spot. All it does is stoke at the fire in her veins and maybe that’s half the point of it. Make her mad enough to hit him or something like that, give him a bruise for tomorrow, like Curt would. Well she’s not fucking Curt either.

“Same reason you are.” Each word is drawn out in that way that almost sounds sarcastic. She exhales sharply through her nose, nostrils slightly flaring. There’s no tease to the words, no smile tugging at his lips. “Less eyes.”

She can hear the snap of her patience in her ears, like a dingy old rubber band. An irrational one at that — which is why she’s hopping off the barstool before she can do something really stupid in this bar; she doesn’t even know what it is. Her thoughts are a mere streamline of curses, hardly registering how she pushes the door open after leaving some nonsensical amount of money on the table. Fuck you for sitting next to me, John Egan. And fuck you for reading me, too. And fuck Buck Cleven for going down, and Benny Demarco too, for that, and fuck Eisenhower for—

“Viv.” His call of her name is the siren’s song and she’s the idiot sailor who forgot to put wax in his ears — feet stalling once she’s made her way about halfway down the alleyway between the pub and another building.

He’s following her and it serves as an acute reminder that they’re all they’ve got right now. 

Bucky’s silhouette is at the end of the alleyway, tall and imposing in the dark as he takes a few steps toward her. She can’t really register what he’s saying to her — feet moving on their own back towards him until they’re toe-to-toe, squinting at him, hands balled into fists. If she asks a question, she knows he’ll answer, but it’ll just piss her off further. No fault of his, just the way Viv’s always been wired and if she could change that, she would, but she can’t.

There’s a lot of things she can’t change. A lot of things she wants to change, too.

“Told you I’d be your bailout when you’re walkin’ home,” Bucky murmurs gruffly, whiskey-breath fanning over her face, warm and strong. The reminder hangs in the air, heavy like the space between them.

If it were possible to have a second snap, she thinks this would be it.

Viv doesn’t know why she leans forward, tilting her chin up to kiss him — it’s hardly even a kiss, just a hard press of her lips against his. She doesn’t know why she does anything about John Egan; he just chips and chips away at her senses until she’s nothing more than some reactive feral creature that can barely keep up with him. She hates him for it. She loves him for it.

She wants to be cut on his jagged edges and let the sting distract her from the anger and how it threatens to swallow her whole, how it threatens to burn him, too.

He stares at her a moment after she does it, blue eyes wide, that loud sorrow giving way to his shock.

“I’m done talking,” Viv breathes out. His jaw clenches, holding her stare.

Finalities weren’t a thing they did.

Bucky’s grabbing at her face with a gruff “c’mere”, rough hands on her cheeks, pulling her to him and slotting their mouths together hungrily. A band snaps between them, she grabs at his arms, squeezing as their lips meld together messily. She’s stumbling, him with her, until her back meets unforgiving bricks and she’s nipping at his bottom lip. His hands fall from her face, to her hips, squeezing as he opens up his mouth for her.

The anger pools in her belly, blurring the line between frustration and desire. He works a muscular thigh between her legs — she rolls her hips against it, taking a trembling breath between kisses. She can feel the hard press of him against her own leg and he grunts, rutting against her thigh. One hand digs into his shoulder, the other moving down to brush against his covered cock — dragging upward until she’s met with the metal of his belt buckle.

Viv breaks their kiss and his breath fans out over her face, thoroughly flushed, twitching beneath her index finger.

“John,” Viv huffs out, with a tight squeeze of his shoulder, the hand then crawling up the back of his neck to work selfishly into his inky dark hair.

She doesn’t know why she says that — John, not Bucky — maybe it’s to grasp at some type of intimacy they won’t get to have. A crumb of what she can’t give him because she’s always been sharp edges and bloodied fists and even now all she knows how to do is bite.

He knows that now, too, and she refuses to let him pierce his stupid bleeding heart on her reckless canines.

“You’re killin’ me here,” he declares with a slight huff — his voice dragging her back to reality. The thigh rubbing against her center, the thrum of desire in her veins.

Her blunt nails scrape against his scalp as he presses his forehead against her own, breaths exchanged as the hand not squeezing her hip finds the button of her pants. He looks down, then back up through dark lashes, lips parted and question posed on his tongue that she answers by pulling his mouth towards hers again, biting at his lower lip and pouring a senseless please into his mouth. He grunts against her lips, biting back, tongue running across her bottom lip and chest pressed against her own. They only leave enough space for their hands — grabbing at each other recklessly, hands finding purchase where they can.

Their bodies shift against the bricks as she tugs at his belt buckle with newfound fervor, hearing the soft clink of it as she undoes it entirely. He mimics the action, going as far as to dip his hand inside, pressing against her underwear and the whine she lets out is swallowed up by his mouth. She pulls away to kiss at his cheek, leaning towards his ear.

“Don’t tease,” she huffs out, can feel him grinning against her neck as his fingers graze everywhere between her legs but where they need to be.

She slips her hand into his pants, feeling the hard heat of him against her palm — she presses down, just to make him grunt and tremble against her frame. “I said don’t tease.”

“Eager girl,” he mutters, a tease to the words, and she tries not to give away how much it affects her. The mess between her legs is indicative enough as he pushes the fabric to the side, runs his finger up and down her seam a couple times and she’s gasping.

Her lips press against his neck reflexively — open-mouthed kisses against his smooth skin. She catches a whiff of a fading perfume she doesn’t recognize; nothing like the Red Cross girls’ familiar scent. It makes her stomach twist in a weird way she doesn’t want to acknowledge, so she doesn’t.

She feels the first of his fingers press into her — long and defined, her muscles relaxing around the digit as he murmurs encouragement into her ear: let me in, there you go, that all for me? 

She noses at his pulse point, further tormenting herself with that weird mix of flowery perfume and his typical scent as her hand works past his underwear to wrap around his length properly. He swears as she squeezes and takes her time, dragging her hand up and down the silky smoothness of his cock.

“Viv,” he sounds wrecked already from a few twists of her hand, and that fact alone has her grinning and preening between heavy sighs as he works a second finger inside her, clenching around his digits as they move in and out her at an almost-languid face.

Her teeth graze against his neck and Bucky makes a throaty noise — a desperate Vivian. Pleading, fingers curling inside her. Like he needs her mark more than he needs oxygen, or whiskey, or all the pretty girls in London. So she bites hard, until she’s certain it’ll bruise, lathes over the spot with her tongue. His thumb presses against her clit firm, and she whines into his neck as he zeroes in on the spot.

“Like that?” he grunts. She nods her head furiously. “Words, baby.”

The endearment makes her heart hurt. She pushes it to the back of her mind.

“Like that,” she parrots in his ear. “Fuck. Keep going. I need—”

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs in a way that sounds properly sober. She greedily pulls him back in with every flex of his fingers, his cock pulsing in her hand with each twist of her wrist. Viv squeezes, watching his hips start to rock as he thrusts into the channel her wrist has made.

With each thrust, he presses against her clit and a spot inside her that has her whining raggedly into his neck. Her head’s swimming, hardly able to make any sense of his ramblings about how tight and warm she is, unable to answer when he asks if she knows how long he’s been thinking about this but grateful that he doesn’t stop when all she can answer with is a moan. He works quickly, and for once Viv is willing to let him do this: take her apart, put her back together, brand her body with his kisses against whatever skin he can find and squeezes of her breast, her hip.

If they can’t give each other anything else, they can have this.

“Bucky,” she gasps out. “I’m—”

“Not Bucky,” he grunts, a harsh thrust of his fingers accompanying the cutoff. “Don’t call me Bucky.” She huffs, lifting her head to look at him. Her eyes are so dark she could hardly tell if they were still blue.

“John,” she corrects, leaning forward to press her forehead back to his. “M’close, John. M’so close.”

His lips part and his eyes flutter shut as she lets her thumb brush across the weepy head of his cock, making a soft little moan.

“I’ll get you there,” he murmurs, “how d’you want it?”

“Faster. Please.”

“I’ll get you there, sweetheart,” she feels his fingers spread a little inside her — she’s crushing their lips together again to swallow the noises that would otherwise tumble freely from her lips as his fingers make a scissoring motion, pressing hard against her bundle of nerves. She’s only upright because of his body pressed against her, keeping her sandwiched between the wall and his frame, keeping her obscured from any onlooker if they tried to pause and discern who Major Egan was with.

Did the others call him John? Did he ask them to? Did he hide them just like this — let them keep a crumb of their modesty even as he took them apart? Did the girl in London take him apart like she is now, with teeth and rough hands, or were her palms just as soft as her flowery perfume?

The questions have her eyes stinging, so she shuts them and kisses him harder as her body starts to tremble, arm wrapping around his broad shoulders to press him impossibly closer. Selfishly so, to pretend for just a moment that he is hers and hers alone. That she’s one of those broken-in shelter dogs and not a stray tied up with a chain around her neck.

She makes a broken, throaty sound against his lips as she comes, and he squeezes her tight as he thrusts once, twice, three times before freezing up. His cock, slowly softening in her hand as they kiss each other. There’s a wet noise when they part again and she opens her eyes to look at him.

His cheeks are ruddy and flushed, black curls falling in front of his forehead as he looks down between them. His arm is still wrapped around her waist, solid and strong like he’s waiting for her trembling to subside. How does she tell him that it never will? That tomorrow her hands will shake during pre-flight check, and they will shake on the mission, and when they come back — if they come back.

His fingers slowly withdraw from the deepest parts of her, she pulls her hand from his pants and wipes whatever remnant of him is on it on the bricks behind her unceremoniously. Still, he presses a kiss between her brows and goes to tuck her shirt back in, to zip the fly and put her back together, saying nothing. She almost wishes he wouldn’t do it at all. There’re… things you’re supposed to do after this: questions to ask. How was that? and Are you okay? but they can’t bring themselves to say that. This, she figures, is meant to make up for that.

There’s a lot of things they don’t say. Maybe it’s better if they just keep it that way.

We’re a mess is all she can think about as his hands go to squeeze once at her hips, uncharacteristically silent. He’s looking at her and for the first time in a long time she can’t discern what the expression on his face is meant to convey. The furrowed brows, the softness there coupled with the grief inching its way back in. Maybe the girls in London don’t get this look from him — something so scarily synonymous with a raw wound that it has her wanting to stumble back.

Mending a wound is not something she knows how to do. She can only poke at its edges until it’s aggravated. Run her dirty hands along it until it’s infected and gone septic. That, she knows how to do — and he’s deserving of so much more than that. She doesn’t know if she regrets this yet, and maybe she’ll have that part sorted tomorrow.

She just knows that this is probably the last time it’ll ever happen and he’ll be better for it. Go through the rest of this knowing that the two of them have hit their ceiling — not because they wanted to, but because she’s just not equipped with the tools to help him break through it. Viv lets her arm fall from his shoulders, summoning the strength to stand on her own. She even goes through the effort of pushing one of those curls of his back into place and straightening out his tie so they’re both halfway decent.

“See you tomorrow,” is all Viv can manage now, as his grip loosens on her, too.

“Yeah,” he rasps, something tight in the way he agrees. He takes a step back.

She scurries off, further into the dark, nauseous over what could happen if he follows her this time.

[sheepheadfred]

Ectoberhaunt Day 8: Pirate ship

Summary: 'Walk the plank, shark bait'. Sure the order gave him an excuse to transform unseen but something, or should he say 'someone', unintentionally prevented that. Well then, time to finish this as Fenton instead!

AO3 link

Stupid Youngblood! Stupid him for letting them steal the ghost shield generator! Why did it have to be some stupid song and stupid Ember and stupid adults and 'miss I'm so mature' Jazz being susceptible to that horrible and boring and dumb music! And!

AAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaa!

Fear and rage swirling inside him turned his inner screaming outward as he plummeted off the ghostly pirate ship. Away from the fight above and closer to the streets below.

...Wait, shit.

He has ghost powers!

HE CAN FLY!

Quick, the ground is getting closer you buffoon!

Right when that thought passed through his head and seconds before he actually could change, something hard and solid caught him.

Fuck! They almost killed him the rest of the way! He will make them regret this!

Winded but not a stain on the ground and deader than before, he looked past the tears in his eyes the high speed falling caused and gave shape to the red being quite literally standing before him.

Valerie?

"Hey, Fen- kid, are you alright? What is even happening here?"

"You mean, you don't know?"

Danny was baffled at how she somehow remained blind, or he guessed deaf, to the adult kidnappings going on lately and he showed it clearly on his face.

"Know what? And let me remind you my hoverboard follows my lead and I will drop you."

"Gee, thanks. My savior." Danny made sure his sarcasm was obvious, "That stupid music being blasted from every radio in town was actually mind control targeting adults and we are rescuing our parents since you asked oh, so nicely." He informed her in the most annoyed tone he could, recent events have made him a bit short tempered.

A delayed thought occurred to him, "Wait. And Jazz. That know it all believes she is an adult and that's enough for it to work."

He said that last sentence under his breath with a bit of a pout, thinking of his sister who shouldn't even be there.

"We?" Valerie asked in disbelief.

"Yes. We. As in 'my friends and a bunch of kids who decided to throw a party in my house I wasn't even invited to. Our parents were taken and we are fighting ghost pirates to get them back."

A muttered 'can't fucking believe this' and 'of course they didn't even invite me' as she moves to drop him off on some roof top before Danny stops her from leaving him.

"If you leave me here, I will find my way back up there. That is a promise and a threat." The words came out of his mouth before he fully processed it.

Dammit!

He needs to be Phantom but if Valerie is here, that might impede their goal. Oh well, guess he's sticking with it and fighting as Fenton. Oops.

She must have seen the fire in his eyes or something because she lifts him with one arm placing him feet first back on her board behind her.

"Fine. Get on. Don't make me regret this. Now hold on!"

And they were off, closer and closer to Youngblood's ship where their peers remained captive due to that ghostly shield-like force field.

Upon reaching the ship, Danny jumped off the hover board and raced towards the captured teens as Valerie blasted Ember point blank, knocking her straight across the ship. Instead of landing, she vanished in her blue flames and, absolutely done with this, cut her losses.

Taking out his parents' inventions that he brought with them as well as swiping one of the Valerie's, he cobbles together a device to free the others while Valerie holds off Youngblood's skeleton crew. Being more careful than usual with the knowledge of the parental captives on board.

"Fenton?! What are you doing?" Danny thinks it was Dash's voice but he wasn't sure as he doesn't use his actual name when they interact. Extenuating circumstances perhaps?

"Shut up and let me work or I will leave you there." Danny snaps as he works in full concentration.

Had he looked up, he'd have seen several, usually cruel, faces blushing at his directness and competency.

A delayed shut down set, he steps away and stalks towards Youngblood. Tucker's job was completed as he deactivated the ghost shield already and Ember is long gone, leaving one less ghost for him to deal with. His eyes glinted green, raising his own intimidation factor, as he stalked towards the ghost.

"Avast scallywag, what be you trying so hard for these landlubbers for? You're ruining all the fun! Let there be a bout for the fate of the booty, then!"

"Brat, it's past your bedtime." A smirk playing on his lips as he riled up the ghost playing pretend.

"Kid, what are you doing antagonizing a ghost like that?! Get your parents and get out of here!"

Aww, she cares.

But Danny has had a very long, very bad day and they need to take it out. And if he can't be Phantom to do it, then so be it. He can't bring himself to care right now.

"Nice to know you care, Red, but don't worry about me. Just get everyone else to the Ops-center blimp. Might get going before the adults come to. Or you can just stand back, you're in the splash zone."

"Splash zone? Wait, what did you call me?"

"Seriously, that's what catches you off guard? You wear all red, so 'Red'. Why? Do you want me to call you anything else instead?"

Danny pulls out a weapon akin to a lightsaber and says, "As for the first question," he pauses for dramatic effect, "these pirates no longer have to wonder where their god is. Because he's right here! and he's fresh out of mercy!", with the most feral grin any of his classmates have ever seen on him.

"Captain, I don't think he's messing around." Youngblood skeleton parrot informed him, looking a bit scared.

Danny let loose as the last of the captives and teens made it onto the blimp, only 'Red' beside him.

"Choke on my vengeance! Choke on it"

...Or more like, watched on in concern. Ready to grab him when the ship falls in earnest. At this point, she isn't even sure if he'd notice they were currently falling.

She almost feels sorry for the ghost. Almost. the ghost seems to be able to keep up with Fenton's increased movements and attacks. Perry and dodge and counter and strike. Blow for blow even among the mutual smack talk and banter. He even started to overpower the ghost at some point before it evened out again for a time.

Both are having fun it seems. Danny clearly doesn't have a healthy outlet for his aggression if he gets like this, but Valerie knows she is not one to talk.

Really feeling gravity take hold, Red steps in and grabs him like he's a misbehaving kitten.

"Ok, you've had your fun," Red finally says after a while, "I'm getting you out of here before we drown with the ship."

The second she pulled Danny back from his frenzy, the ghost pirate kid flew further into the ship. Oh well, making sure she and her classmate don't die will have to be her priority here.

They ride back to the group of dazed adults and geared up teens on her hoverboard.

"Did you get that all out of your system?"

"Yeah, that was fun!" Danny gleefully answered with a laugh.

Yeah, he really is a Fenton with that kind of weirdness. Oddly charming thought.

At her unimpressed silence, he added "You had fun back there, too. Don't lie. When's the next time you'll get to fight on a pirate ship?" A sly smirk playing on his lips.

"...Ok fine. It was a little fun. Happy?" She relented as they landed by the group. The laugh she got in response was answer enough.

As they meet back up with the other teens, they are either looking dumbstruck at him or staring at the ghost hunter behind him. Sam and Tucker were watching her more with suspicion, but he saw some humor in their eyes when they saw him.

All eyes on them, Danny asked the group if they could meet back at his place to not let the adults know what happened. If they hurry they can make it back and claim to be studying or something if caught and questioned.

When asked why, he just replied with, "They are going to see us and I'm the one who will be in trouble. Either grounded or they'll be excited and try to drag me full force into the family business," Another thought occurred to him that would really make them go for this idea, "If they know you helped, they'll be even happier for that path and try to encourage it."

After that last statement, even those who wouldn't have cared for either outcome he'd get practically shivered in dread. This was a one night only thing and just to save their parents, not an interest into a full time gig!

Huh. It really does take just the right words!

Everyone but the huntress left to cover their tracks before the adults realized where they were or what they did. Leaving her to handle the dazed and coming to adults. And Jazz.

Now that things were calming down, 'badass and confident' Danny was receding back to a more 'sheepish and charming' Danny, brushing off anything cool he just did as 'spur of the moment'. Instead he flitted around as everyone hit the evidence, making sure no one was hurt after all of that as he took back his family's gear to put it away.

The least some of them did was change back and rush home before they could get in trouble themselves.

Danny was bewildered when Paulina even kissed his cheek for earlier, even when she said shed never be into him right before the plan went into action, on her way out and Dash didn't even threaten him.

Strangely got a 'That was pretty cool of you' and Danny still isn't sure that he heard right.

His friends were celebrating 'how cool' that was that they did that on top of bringing quality music back into town as they helped him clean.

"Dude, you snapped back there."

"And it was awesome! If only I could do that too, then I might be able to make changes a bit easier."

"You having powers on top of already being able to commit violence already kind scares me and I'm the ghost who snapped."

The three share a contented smile and have a fun laugh about their crazy night before taking out their homework to act like they've been at it for hours right in time for his parents and Jazz to walk through the door, confused but unharmed.

[avantegarda]

Wild-Ass Fantasy Series I Read As A Kid

"Sarah J. Maas" this and "Shadow and Bone" that, pshaw. Everyone know the best YA/Middle Grade fantasy books were random little collections of bizarre nonsense that'd keep you awake for a week straight. Such as:

The Young Wizards by Diane Duane: Two middle schoolers gain magical powers via library book and become wizards, which in this universe means "person who helps prevent the heat death of the universe." Featuring a pretty obvious gay wizard couple, talking cars, a white hole (opposite of black hole) named Fred, and Whale Rituals.

The Claidi Journals by Tanith Lee: An extremely funny girl flees servitude in a tiny city-state called the House, falls in love with a the leader of a nomadic tribe, and learns some deeply odd science-magic. Featuring robots, walking sharks, magnets that make you fly, psychic matchmaking rings, and so on.

Abarat by Clive Barker: Girl from the Midwest stumbles upon an entrance to another dimension, where there's an island for each hour of the day. She's threatened by an emo dictator, his grandmother, and her army of living dolls. Reading this series is like dropping acid, cannot recommend highly enough. Featuring a guy who has antlers and brothers who consist of heads on said antlers. Oh, and an evil tech billionaire.

Dark Reflections by Kai Meyer: Two orphans in an alternate version of 19th-century Venice learn to make magic mirrors while their city is being attacked by a reboot of the Ancient Egyptian Empire. The Venetian stone lions are alive. Featuring a trip to literal hell, a sphinx, a SCARIER sphinx, and a mermaid with legs.

The Sea of Trolls by Nancy Farmer: An aspiring tween bard in early-medieval England and his little sister get kidnapped by Vikings and meet all the VIPs of Norse mythology. Their surrogate grandpa is a master bard named The Bard. Featuring bitchy elves, matriarchal trolls, and a ghost named Jenny Greenteeth.

Please read these. Please. For the sake of your brain and soul.