#i get that resources are pressed and you gotta do what you gotta do but im sure the star wars equivalent of like baby wipes exist somewhere

[thedrotter]

I have a gift for y'all today !!! 😊 Ever wanted to find a line in Re:Kinder in a single place for the sake of reference?? How about multiple chunks of lines. how about all the little variations that arise in the text with it's many endings, item descriptions, text that comes from interacting with the enviroment, and character info from the menu without having to boot up the game and go through it at long minutes!!???

well i sure did😊 Since I do a lot of fanart and think up my own silly theories and thoughts that need me to reference the game lines a lot, i have made a transcript for it for convenience's sake. A weirdly thorough transcript handwritten and proofread by me including all character lines available in-game. And I'm sharing it with you all today for anyone that wants it !!! :3 To use as a reference for creative fanworks or a quick search for a line in-game, whatever you wish to use it for!!

It uses the english translation of the game by vgperson. So naturally all credit for the game lines available in here is to her and Parun who made the game.

I did my best to organize it in a way easy to digest. Do note that I'm still human, and there's still the chance for mistake in it no matter how much I've proofread it, since I'm not even an english native speaker ^^. But I hope it serves you well nonetheless if you wish to use it.

That's my gift for today!!! Not the usual art, but still a project I'm proud of. Enjoy!!! 😊

[phagodyke]

was brave and talked to my doctor abt my period bs + she said it might be endometriosis without me even having to bring it up... 💀

[court-jobi]

Kissproof

((Banner by me!! I don't own Horikoshi's work/characters))

Pairing: Todoroki x reader (fem!reader)

Words: 3.3k

Rating: G~

Warnings: Behold the FLUFF, soft Todoroki hours, est. relationship, slice of life, light jealousy, getting ready together, assurance, non-sexual intimacy, this is not 'touch her you die'-- this is 'touch her and ill stare at you till you do the right thing'

Summary:

Having grown up around a sister, Shoto Todoroki held no resentment about seeing you mull about hogging the mirror. On the contrary, he’d always found the care and details girls would put into their appearances to be remarkable. To be the one watching and sharing these intimate routines with you is something he treasures-- if only he could always keep you to himself like this… not always possible in a room chock-full of heroes with wandering eyes.

A/N: my first attempt at a todoroki fic? because he's so gentle and deserves everything wonderful?? This feels so different than my recent Bakugou works, and I love the change of pace. Hope yall like it too!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

Having grown up around a sister, Shoto Todoroki held no resentment about seeing you mull about hogging the mirror. On the contrary, he’d always found the care and details girls would put into their appearances to be remarkable: a personal touch that adorned what beautiful foundation was already there.

The way the makeup artists would enhance his fellow heroes at press photoshoots should be hailed as art. He didn't see why makeup brushes were marketed any differently than those belonging to a painter. Industry-performing nonsense, he supposed. 

When you finally got a spare moment to yourself in this hotel suite in Kobe getting ready for dinner,  your circle of best girlfriends -brought into your life by his introduction- were deciding on dresses when Todoroki came over through the open conjoining room unnoticed, looking for you.

You’re still robed up post-shower and kept calling out answers to Kirishima and Midoriya on what to wear across the room. Bakugou had even swallowed his pride enough to ask you to get the ‘shitty cufflinks’ on his ‘shitty jacket’ right because his ‘shitty fingers’ couldn’t quite manage it. You’d become something of an invaluable resource by nature- maternal instincts seep from you so easily- but unfortunately have put you in last place in terms of getting ready.

As Todoroki entered your space, you were mid makeup; eyes almost done, but before lips or anything else past your light moisturizer. You caught his eye a bit embarrassed.

"Uh--hey, hon’~" you greet with complete fondness, despite his quiet intrusion.

With a small word of greeting back, he took a mental picture of this serene state of you. Something he can remember when he’s past the point of exhaustion on hour ten of patrol, and needs a lifeline. 

Unphased by the sight of piles of toiletry bags and finishing tools galore, he took a seat along the edge of the high-walled tub, pulling out his phone for a second while you processedwhat he was doing: making himself comfortable.

"Sorry, did you need the- um?"

He looked back up at you, gesturing limply towards the toilet, but he dismisses that suggestion. Certainly wasn't in line or anything for that; only for you. 

"No,” Todoroki dismissed calmly, “ just wondered if they were finally letting you be.”

You appeared pleased at his reasoning, jutting your hair back over your shoulder as he sat there smiling a bit in admiration. Phone’s properly set to silent now; nothing to interrupt the nice lofi streaming from your phone’s tiny speaker.

"I'll be done in a sec, it doesn’t take me too long. Just gotta, y'know- 'doll myself up'. Got a lot of heads to turn here tonight.”

Todoroki glares at you in a silly deadpan. "You're lovely in the company of one as you are in a hundred, but if more makes you happy, do whatever you'd like."

You turned back to the mirror to carry on, in view to catch him looking over at you every now again in the reflection. Your effortless flair for polishing was a thing to witness firsthand. He was hardly bored, watching you; as entertained as can be rather than begging ‘are you done yet’ through tired stares. 

"Guess you're really not one of those ‘no makeup’ guys,” you chime from the vanity. 

"Hm?" Todoroki livens up as you engage with him after a long stretch of silence. 

"Most boys have pretty strong opinions about girls in full face. Like, ‘you really shouldn’t wear so much’. Or on the flip side, like ‘ooooo she's gotta wear red’ or ‘make sure it matches the nails’ or how it takes too long..."

From your poised exterior, Todoroki finds your swirling stream of consciousness a funny contrast when you let him in on your thought process.

With a patient smirk, he merely tilts his head at you, “Did you ask for my opinion?”

You’re torn for a minute- clear that you're worried about offending him and quick to respond,

“--Not that I'd hate it~ but I don't think so, no,” you answer.

“Because it doesn’t matter,” Todoroki answers you comfortably. “It’s your hobby, sweetheart. You should enjoy it for you.”

Your freshly finished eyes crinkle at him, “Just don’t want you bored out of your mind over there, not even having a say.”

"Do you mind my being here?"

Peaceably, you keep his stare. "No, not at all."

"Then don’t worry about what I think. You like doing it, I get the time with you, so you can take as long as you’d like."

Capping the mascara, you double tap your phone to illuminate it, “We’re good on time, right?”

Confident in a companionable sort of way, Todoroki defends that however much time you need, you’ll get. He’d give you the moon if he could.

“Time’s yours. No rush.”

It’s the truth; Todoroki benefits from either state of you– whether it's brushed on or not, he gets the chance to soak in your beauty as you allow him to. The intimacy of these lovely feminine practices is what appeals to him anyway. It could be watching you dole out your extensive skincare or something as simple as handing you your prized chapstick when it’s cold; Todoroki just loves watching you tend to yourself– and letting him in on the secrets.

He allowed his head to rest on the wall as he watched you put highlighter and a deep lip color on that complemented your dress of choice. Then as you brought some hair up to see the whole finished look, it’s only at this stage that he piped up again.

"What color is your dress?"

You turned a bit to the open entryway closet, where your roommates all sufficiently moved in and prepped for the weekend’s events. A mix of hero garb and formalwear lined the maxxed out closet.

"It's that black sleeveless one in there, if you don’t mind grabbing it?" 

As you were now in the middle of putting on an earring, Todoroki passed behind you to do just that. 

He came back with the hotel’s branded hangar, and you pulled it up to pet the fabric in appreciation.

"I like it cuz it’s super soft on the inside. No pockets though," you made a teasing whisper mocking where the inert should be. Todoroki rolled his eyes playfully.

"You women and your pockets."

"They're all designed by men who don't understand! You know that, right?"

"Are you going to keep complaining, or put it on?"

You turned with a little sway, "Ahhh, now I see why I have an audience..."

Todoroki suddenly found an ounce of shame and shy, contrasting eyes, and he stamped on an apology to not appear so hungry, "U-um, sorry. I'll uh–,"

You dismissed his gentlemanly move to exit– and tugged him forward instead. You leaned in close to his ear, 

"I'll be right out. Don't go far– I’ll need you."

Not a minute later, you met the room with half the girls fiddling over Iida’s suit and half over Midoriya’s finishing touches when Mina squealed your return:

"OH YES, BABE! This is IT!!"

Eyes all shot to you in your final reveal. You gave the little model leg stance under the attention, highlighting the leg slit and jeweled accent down the leg. The move made poor ‘Deku’ choke at the sight, and Kirishima froze all coherent thought for a split second (as he did for just about all his friends). 

Todoroki turned around from his view by the window to meet your expectant eye. Despite having seen every bit of your outfit come together, he completed a full check out on you and didn't hide his smirk well.

"Oh my God, Todoroki, you’re ogling– quit that!!" Hagakure chided.

"Not until she quits that."

His admiration of you held no shame whatsoever– which you accepted a long time ago.

"I'll -erm- just say you look great, chief! Not anything else, man!!" Kirishima was quick to appease Todoroki’s acute glare at the enthusiasm for you, his coworker. Kirishima would ordinarily argue you were his work wife, but not in front of ‘Icyhot’.

"Thanks hunny," You smiled innocently enough,but ultimately joined Todoroki’s warm side.

He outstretched an arm out to pull you in, only to notice you twirl around to him to show where you did need his help after all. Pinned down by your precariously positioned hand behind your back, Todoroki could now see you needed zipped up.

A caring touch was needed, and his heart softened unfairly with the insinuation that you wanted his touch to be the one to do it. By your expectant look over your shoulder, it’s sweetly implied that you’d never consider anyone else for the job.

Once done, your turning back around allowed you the space to straighten out his lapel more affectionately– he didn’t see what about this was particularly endearing, but your pampering gesture brings a swoon from all the women in the room.

Todoroki zoned out for a moment– holding close the feeling that he never wanted to be at an event where you weren't by his side like this. His hands settle appropriately to your waist in a comfortable hug while you admire his suit with surprise.

"This cut is really nice on you. You need to remember this one for the agency dinner next month!"

He tips his head down a bit at the compliment but turned it around to you quickly, 

"I could say the same for you; but I have the feeling anything you choose would have the same effect as this. You sure wear the dress, not the other way around."

"Flatterer."

A warmhanded brush of fingers to your neck, just as you like it,

"Gorgeous."

"Oh GOD,” Bakugou revolts, “don't make me PUKE, ICYHOT!!"

That night, each step you took had Todoroki seeking you out- the clack of your heel piquing his attention. 

His magnetic attraction fell gently over you tonight as always… though your reaction to his sights on you would drag him near the rest of the way: a fierceness he adored about you. How you protected the bond you shared -displaying your love loudly- was an appreciated sign of commitment, whether it took the form of a hand in his, your body pressed close into his side, or through a whispered word meant only for his ears.

One point in the night after supper, Todoroki parted from you briefly. Not far, but you’d strayed off with a few mutual friends engrossed in your own conversation, the social butterfly you were that outshone his more withdrawn personality. The assembly brought some pro-heroes from several districts together and acted as both networking and reunion for those separated by vocation.

You're catching up with an old friend of yours who Todoroki can almost name– if not for the itch of irritation clouding his long term memory. 

There were many whom you’d shared stories of from your past, though the man before you carried a classically flirty energy Todoroki felt he should recall. He’s half listening to Kirishima’s recent advances to the old flame the redhead was tending to– in favor of monitoring the situation involving his own. 

Fortunately, his powers of observation suit him well even in instances like this, where Todoroki can sense from your neck’s tilt alone that you’re locked in conversation, but don’t perceive a threat in your eyes. 

–But unfortunately, it did little to settle his own reservations. Firm reservations. The man had you twirl a bit in an old 1940s style show over your outfit, which only sent poor Todoroki into alert mode. 

He held his glass a bit tighter and tried to not stare bullets into the brunette, yet failed. 

Kirishima’s brief little nudge righted Todoroki’s damning sights on your present company. The unspoken word he held with a raised brow gave Todoroki a fair amount of encouragement, and a check on his palpable jealousy.

“Y’know,” Kirishima took in the sights of the exquisite lighting above their heads, “For a guy who’s got the most temperamental quirk I’ve seen, you’ve got a pretty funny way of showing when you’re unnerved.”

Todoroki bit his tongue from spouting something harsh back, “What do you mean.”

“Normally when folks get hot over something, you can see steam comin’ out their ears, Tom & Jerry style~” Kirishima chuffed. “You on the other hand– take an icy approach.”

Looking down for once, Todoroki noted he now held a frosted glass– more than his crafted cocktail iceblock should do. 

“But hey, keeps your drink from getting watered down, eh? Wish I could have that sort of tell!”

Kept in check by ‘Riot’s playful sense of security, Todoroki calmed his own flare of green. 

It certainly wasn’t his best quality; there was still plenty in his nature that he’s been actively trying to overwrite. His owning of his emotions is work he implements in everyday risk and battle. Though in his efforts to not let those same extreme emotions tear his fledgling little family apart (the one he shares with you), Todoroki tends to take a polarizing approach to his role as a supportive partner than the one his father modeled for him:

Where his old man viewed his wife as subservient and held strict boundaries within their dynamic, the tie he held to you was a treasured partnership. An act of give and take, but one he chose to adore and never take for granted– not for an instant. He was simply protective– at least he was trying to be, in the most even-tempered way.

It was a tender thing he was gifted, in a surprising turn of fate he believed he may never have found for himself… but one thing Todoroki swears to is that coming into your favor was a balm for him. Something steady, something breathing, a lifeline that enriched everything it touched, including his view on the very world itself.

Not just because you were the woman he fully intended to marry someday: but that you were a light he wanted to keep warm and safe and never let anything threaten that shine.

Just relying on the constancy that the very thought of you brings to mind eases Todoroki’s spirit, and he can now react to Kirishima’s asides about Bakugou and Midoriya’s current rivaling ‘dance’ around the dessert table with a lighter heart.

After ignoring where his mind had fallen away to for a moment, a touch brought his attention back to you, who was leading said peacock over. You got real close into Todoroki’s space, a hint he grappled onto immediately as you lowered your tone of voice… purposefully, to make the point clear,

"Hey sweetheart, I brought a old friend over I'd like you to meet!” 

You touched along his chest for security, but it’s a sincere move that would assure even a perfect stranger what the nature of your relationship is. 

“After all,” -casual as you sound, you’re fixed on Todoroki alone- “I wanted everyone here in my circle to know who the next top hero in Japan is... so they can say they knew him when~"

Todoroki looked from you back to the brunette, who seemed a bit taken aback at your crystal clear relationship status now. And boy, did Shoto want nothing more than to play into that. 

But in his perfect, practiced graces, Todoroki met your friend’s gaze with a hand reeling you in close by the waist.

Ordinarily he’d bow or at the very least extend a hand to shake– but pocketing his other hand instead felt like the more appropriate move. A confident stance, assured by your presence once again rubbing at his back unseen.

"How sweet of you, darling. Shoto Todoroki, a pleasure."

Pleasantries are shared, and you never budge once from his hold even to switch weight from one foot to the other. Todoroki feels every bit the power couple, with you by his side.

Once your company did leave after brief chatter again (primarily led by you) did you almost chortle into Todoroki’s neck,

"Oh my God, Sho~ you are steaming."

Todoroki keeps a calm exterior, but hints at his earlier irritation playfully enough in a crowd full of people, "Why was he touching you."

"He's from the islands down south, super big dance culture. Plenty of those dance nights at the student union were headed up by him alone, back in the day….”

But you didn't want to excuse your man's feelings as you caught his eyes,

“Though as it seemed he was willing to pick up some things where he feels we left off, I had to see him straight,” you ran relaxed fingers down his coat’s opening. “Figured I'd let you have a bit of fun, and I'm very glad you behaved."

Todoroki moved you into the music that began queueing up at the moment, so it seemed more like a dance.

"I think I'm having second thoughts about the dress now,” he murmurs with a crafty eye to you. Not aimed to be mean, because there’s plenty of love in his look to spare, “I'm not so sure it sends the right message."

Centering to the front of him, you relished in Todoroki’s duality of design. "Oh?"

"He was drooling over you," He sounded firm.

"And you're not?" You teased by his ear. That comment pressed you closer to him. Maybe a touch possessive, but still giving you plenty of space to settle and push back if you wished. 

Your voice dripped of its soft nature you reserved for him- genuine, and not the customer-service persona you gave off when in control…

"This dress was for me and you, y’know. No one else. See how it matches?” you trace along the inner lining of the jacket, fingers dipping inside where the warmth is captured. 

You draw a special kanji over his heart, a blend of your initials hidden by his coat~

“I’d have my mark on you too, if it wouldn’t look so obvious. Just you, my prince."

Todoroki smiled a bit towards your shoulder, appeased for the moment, catching your eyes again, "I'd like to kiss you for that. But I know how much you worked on all this."

You smirked. Without a word, you smudged a finger to your lips  brusquely, and showed no color at all left behind on the finger. 

"Girl magic: kiss-proof."

Todoroki’s eyes lit for a second before he grinned again. This time, he caught the gaze of another couple standing off to the wall who seemed to be noticing you two, and he very purposefully decided on giving a show, no matter who sees. He’s insanely proud of you, after all, so he could risk a little expression tonight. 

He caressed your neck gently and brought you into a close, full kiss that you chuckled lowly into. He looked blissed and a touch smug on standing back.

"Better, hon’?"

"Better," He smoothed a hand up your back until he took your hand to stay in his arm, "although I think I'll stick a little closer to you tonight, all the same."

"No complaints here," You took a walk through here and there, and managed to claim a view by the tall windows overlooking the nightlife below. "--especially with you trying out a new pet name back there..."

"You liked that, huh?" Todoroki came to stand behind you, and you leaned back into his hug.

You tugged his arms around to where they caressed your sides and swayed a bit comfortably.

He smiled and chuckled into your back, pressing a little kiss onto your forehead offered to him.

Shoto stands with you as you're looking far out into the city, but all he cares about is the window's reflection on you:

Not a paint stroke out of place, even after his kiss. A portrait the room should very well be envious of, but that he’s fully secure is all for him.

"Darling it is."

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

1.8k / 22 / soap soulmate au, part 3

…

Oh, shit, Ghost thinks. What the hell did you just do?

Ghost stumbles out in the road, looking after you in shock. You just... jumped out. In handcuffs. There's no way you think you can make it anywhere like--

Oh, double shit. You're running right for the cliffs in the distance. Looks like you might make it, too. That ain't good. Morally justified or not, he's still the criminal here. If you get to rough terrain and he loses you by car and on foot, you’ll go for help, and his squad won’t stand a chance.

He swears, grabs his pistol, and points it at your back.

He has a clear shot. He's sniped easier targets.

… He sighs and lowers his gun. Johnny, you owe me one.

…

You've got a good head start on him, but when he eventually catches up, he's going to be pissed.

Your ankle and hand sting from your rough landing. Adrenaline pumping, heart racing--you've got to get to those cliffs, and fast.

Behind you, the engine roars closer. Wheels crunch over gravel. He’s catching up. But the cliffs are right there. A river snakes through the rocky terrain. If you can just throw yourself across the water, you can make it. You can lose him on foot.

You pump your legs as fast as you can. The wind burns in your lungs. Keep moving. Just a few more seconds before you reach the water.

You’re so focused on the water that your foot lands wrong between river rocks and your ankle twists. You keep going, gait lopsided. You can’t stop. Once he catches up, you’re either a hostage again or you’re dead. But first, he's gotta catch up, get out of the car, open the door, grab his gun, sprint after you--

Then his car swings around you, pulling what should be an impossible drift over the rocks, one tire scattering river water into the air. You skid to a stop, making a break for the cliffs instead. There's a waterfall. You might make it if you jump--

Then Ghost is on you, a blur from the open car door to the edge of the rocks. He grabs you almost out of the air. You land stomach-first on the ground. You grunt, windless, gasping for air. Pain surges through your body. Fuck, that hurt. The rocks are harder than the grass was. You see stars.

Then you start to realize the position you're in. Your hands are still cuffed in front of you--over your head, now--and he's got his knee on your back. He's holding you down with all his weight, the barrel of his pistol pressed between your shoulders as he grits his teeth.

"Stay. Down," he growls.

He's not gentle. It'd be inconvenient to kill you, but you're really testing his sense of pragmatism. You're making him expend a hell of a lot of effort to keep you alive--jumping off a cliff, fucking seriously?--so he doesn't owe you any extra effort toward keeping you comfortable. Quite the opposite.

You shift your pained body under his knee, groaning into the sharp river rocks cradling your face.

"I said stay down," he growls, grinding his knee down against your back. You feel every individual sharp rock pressing into your skin. "I will hurt you.”

Normally he doesn’t give warnings like this, but he figures he owes it to Johnny to keep your stupid pretty face intact. As much as he wants to put a dent in it right now. And if you keep acting all resourceful…

You keep still, trying to catch your breath. Your hands curl around the river rocks and feel around for something loose and sharp. No such luck.

He grabs your shoulder with one hand to keep you still. His knee moves off your back for a second. You realize he’s trying to get a better look at the soulmate mark on your neck.

"Got to be another John MacTavish somewhere in the world," he mutters. "Bloody common name."

He grips the back of your vest and hauls you to your feet, practically scruffing you as he drags you back to the car. He growls something under his breath along the lines of irritating little shits finding each other.

Back in the car, Ghost’s phone rings again. This time, he glances back at you and switches his phone to his non-dominant hand. He picks up his pistol with his other hand and steers with his knee.

“Ghost,” he answers. This time, the reply has him shifting in his seat. “Negative. Didn’t see her.” Another long pause. The voice on the other end is louder and more animated than the one before. “I told you I’d look, and I did. Wherever she is, she’s fine.” The reply is clipped. “The captain told you not to go looking. Chrissake, Johnny, you’re not hanging out at base looking for a date. You’re a wanted criminal. Have a crumb of self-preservation.” Another long reply, this one rising in volume. “I know. Yes. I hear you. I know— Johnny—”

He goes quiet for a long while, uttering single-syllable responses occasionally. You can’t hear Johnny’s words, but you do hear his tone of voice. He doesn't sound happy.

“If the captain tells you to stay put, you stay put. End of story.”

You glance at the rear-view mirror again. Ghost is looking back like this is somehow on you. The sour face of a man getting chewed out.

Ghost and Johnny go back and forth until Ghost finally seems to tire of it. "No, not right now," he says. "I told you what I know. I’ll call you back."

Johnny curses from the other line right as Ghost hangs up.

Your fingertips are still tingling from the sound of Johnny’s voice, even at a distance, even over the phone. Maybe from the cuffs, too.

You don’t miss the irritated look on Ghost's face. "You in trouble?" you ask.

Ghost doesn’t hold your gaze. "He's a little pissed off, yeah."

After that, you don't speak for a long time. Your whole body hurts, and the adrenaline and sheer length of this day are taking a toll. Your eyelids sag. But every time you drift into sleep, you see Johnny's face again and jerk awake. It's torture. You don't have the mental fortitude to block him out anymore. You’re terrified that wherever Ghost is taking you, Johnny will be there.

You lean your forehead on the window, squeezing your eyes shut. "So..."

"What." There's no venom behind the response this time. He doesn't bother looking at you. But he's listening.

It takes longer than you'd like to work the words you're trying to form out of your throat. "John is still in one piece?”

He keeps driving in silence for a moment. You can almost hear his brain ticking as he considers. There's a tenseness behind him, a tension that's wound up and ready to snap.

"Yeah. Got a few holes in him, but it takes more than that to keep him down. Stubborn bastard." Another long, heavy silence. His hands grip the wheel, and he glares ahead. "Got a problem with that?"

"I'm not sure."

"You got issues with Johnny, you tell me. Got enough problems without you being all coy."

“Do you, uh, have a soulmate?”

Christ, he hopes you're kidding. He can only take so much of this from Johnny, and now you? Obviously Johnny hasn’t stoppedtalking about you. Can’t stop talking about what a pretty thing you are. Face like a muse, he keeps saying. Bastard described you in so much detail that, when Ghost was surveying the Las Almas base, you popped out like a neon sign the moment his sniper scope swept over you. He could've grabbed any damn Shadow, but no, he decided to do Johnny a favor and grab you. Now he can't bloody shoot you no matter how much you deserve it. Lucky Johnny’s not here to see what a bloody mess you’ve made of yourself under his watch. Not that he tells you any of that. Best to keep Johnny in the dark until they get the information they need out of you.

"You're a hostage," he says. "Act like it. And Johnny's off the table."

That’s a relief. You dread the thought of looking Johnny in the eye and trying to figure out how to make excuses for almost killing him. You can only hope to delay it as long as possible.

…

It turns out the "base" Ghost spoke of is a shed in the middle of nowhere. A barn at best—from the outside, but from the inside, it’s huge. You recognize a few members of the Mexican Special Forces, also your former allies before your company betrayed them on Shepherd’s orders. Rodolfo in particular gives you a hard stare as Ghost drags you past him and into a much smaller room. It's a weapons closet converted into a makeshift interrogation room. He pushes you down into the chair hard by the shoulder. You lean on the table, flexing your sore wrists behind you and wishing you could just put your head down and sleep.

He keeps a close eye on you once you're down. You show no clear desire to run again and no more than a passing interest in the impressive spread of rifles and launchers on the walls. You’re in the heart of an enemy safehouse. Even if you managed to grab a gun and escape this room, every other person outside wants you dead. You’re almost glad Ghost locks the door. At least there’s a barrier between you and them.

In the dim light, Ghost notes the bruise on your cheek and the scabbed-over cuts and gashes littered over your exposed skin. Your forehead sports a nasty, wet-looking burgundy splotch where your head hit the ground after he tackled you. You look about as defenseless as a wounded rabbit. If he weren’t busy trying to keep you from escaping as a hostage, he’d probably feel bad about hurting a friend's soulmate.

He's not his most charming self here.

"Stay awake, now," he warns you.

The overhead light clicks on. Ghost stands across from you, but the person standing by the light switch is Captain fucking Price. He stares at you, his hard gaze boring into the soulmate mark on your neck.

Then he smiles. "Good find, Ghost," he says. "This is the one. Guess Soap wasn't lying."

…

part 1 / part 2 / [part 3] / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10 / part 11 / part 12

more Soap / masterlist tag

[violettwrites]

a refuge in rough hands — trailer park!daryl

a/n: hi guys! this is another one of my late night shenanigan pieces so i apologise if their is any mistakes. i didn’t proof read it all that much 😗

if you enjoyed, please give this a like, reblog, and or comment ! don’t forget to follow me to see more of my works !

summary: reader gets drunk and doesn’t want to go home, so daryl let’s her stay.

request: anon requested; if it’s alright, i’d like to request a work-maybe merle threw a party and reader is pretty tipsy. and daryl takes care of her during the night, and reader flirts with him (e.g he tries to stop her from drinking more and she playfully pushes him). at the end daryl let’s her sleep in his bed because he doesn’t want her to be around her dad.

word count: 1,509

warnings: mentions of alcohol, slight allusions to abuse

resources: divider by @adornedwithlight

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merle dixon had never been one to pass up a reason to throw a party, especially not when he got a decent chunk of cash from whatever side job he had done for someone. the music was loud, thumping through the trailer park, and most likely disturbing the residents that were trying to sleep this time of night— but merle didn’t care, nor did his as equally drunk friends.

you were tipsy— no that’s a lie, you were drunk. not drunk enough to be an absolutely sloppy mess, but you were definitely past that tipsy phase. you swayed slightly as you leaned against the cooler in the dixon’s trailer, your fingers brushing the rim of a half empty beer can. daryl was across the room, arms crossed, watching you like a hawk. he had already tried to cut you off once, but you weren’t having it. not tonight.

the party had been going for a while now, and you felt warm, light, free in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. maybe it was the music, or maybe it was the fact that for once, you weren’t thinking about your dad or the mess waiting for you back home. you raised the can to your lips for another sip, only for it to be snatched out of your hand, droplets of beer splashing onto your shirt.

“a’ight, that’s enough,” daryl grumbled, setting the can down on the counter behind him, his sharp blue eyes narrowing at you.

you pouted up at him, swaying slightly as you crossed your arms over your chest. “daryl dixon,” you drawled, a playful grin pulling at your lips. “you tryna be my babysitter now?”

daryl gave you a look, his lips pressed into a thin line. “don’t need to be. just lookin’ out for ya. had too much to drink tonight,” he grumbled.

you took a step closer, ignoring the way the room tilted slightly as you did. “c’mon, dixon,” you whined, “you scared i’m gonna do somethin’ stupid?” your voice turned into a teasing tone, reaching out to poke his chest.

he caught your wrist in his hand, fingers rough and calloused against your skin. “i ain’t scared. just don’t wanna drag your drunk ass back home later.”

you laughed, a sound that was a little too loud for the small space. “i’m fine, daryl. really.” you tried to tug your hand away, but he didn’t let go.

“yeah? well you ain’t lookin’ or actin’ like yer fine.”

you huffed, rolling your eyes dramatically. “you worry too much,” you teased, stepping closer until you were toe to toe with him. “what are you gonna do, dixon? take care of me?” there was a playful edge to your voice, a challenge hidden somewhere in your words.

daryl’s jaw tightened, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “if i gotta.”

you raised an eyebrow, your heart doing a little flip at the seriousness in his tone. you knew daryl wasn’t like merle. he didn’t just mess around for the bell of it. he cared, in his own quiet, gruff way. and right now, all of that attention was on you.

“well, lucky me,” you muttered, still grinning, though it softened around the edges.

daryl shook his head, his grip on your wrist loosening as he let out a frustrated sigh. “you’re trouble, you know that?”

“yup!” you agreed cheerfully. you leaned in, your voice dropping to a whisper. “but you like trouble, don’t you?”

his eyes narrowed slightly, but there was a flicker of amusement there too. “gettin’ close to bein’ a pain in my ass,” he muttered, but his hand didn’t move from where it rested on your wrist.

you smirked, feeling a rush of warmth at how close you were, at the way daryl’s eyes seemed to follow your every move. maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was something else entirely, but you felt bolder than you had in a long time. “what’re you gonna do about it, dixon?” you asked, your voice playful.

he sighed again, clearly trying to maintain his patience. “‘m gonna take you home. you need to sleep,” he said, but his tone was soft, more like a promise than a threat. “before you get yourself into any more trouble.”

at the mention of being taken back home, you could feel your heart start to race. you gently tugged your wrist that was still in his grip. “please—“ you spoke quietly, shaking your head. “i don’t wanna go home.” not like this. not when your dad was home right now. it’d be the end of you.

daryl looked at you for a moment, knowing. he felt horrible already, suggesting that he’d take you home in that state to a man who was exactly like his own father. he sighed, letting go of your hand before nodding his head. “okay, okay. but yer staying with me tonight. got it?” his voice was stern, yet gentle.

you looked at him, silent for a moment, before nodding your head. part of you felt bad because he had to give up his night to look after you, but the other part of you felt safe when he was around, and you wanted to be near him. “i’m sorry,” you murmured softly, looking at your shoes.

you didn’t really expect to feel his hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look up at him. “hey. you don’t ever gotta apologise for that, ‘kay? you don’t feel like goin’ back there tonight, and that’s okay.” there was a tenderness in his voice that made your heart ache, in the best way possible. you smiled softly, your balance a little steadier now as you leaned into him, arms wrapping around his torso.

“thank you, daryl.”

he returned the gesture, arms wrapping around your shoulders, holding you to his chest. you could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, the steady rhythm comforting you. “c’mon, let’s get ya into bed.”

he lead you to his small bedroom at the back of the trailer, his hands on your shoulders as he walked behind you, making sure you didn’t trip over the boxes and clothes littered along the hallway. the trailer wasn’t disgusting by any means, but three males who didn’t really know how to pick up after themselves definitely had the place in a bit of a mess.

when you reached his bedroom, he gently pushed you towards his bed before moving towards his dresser, pulling out a shirt and tossing it in your direction. “change into that,” he muttered before making his way to leave the bedroom.

“where are you going?” you asked meekly, looking at him as you clutched the shirt in your hands. you knew you would be safe in here, but you also wanted daryl to stay— even if you were too shy to admit it. ten minutes ago you probably would have, but not now.

daryl turned to look at you for a moment, raising an eyebrow slightly at your disdain for his departure. “just gonna go tell merle to turn the music down. get changed and get into bed. i’ll be back in a second,” his voice was low, but soft.

you nodded your head, watching as he closed the bedroom door behind him and you started to undress, leaving your clothes in a pile at the end of his bed before crawling under the blankets. you could feel the room spin as you closed your eyes when your head hit the pillow.

a few minutes later, the door creaked open and you peeled one eye open to see daryl slipping back into the room. the music outside had dulled, merle probably grumbling about it but obliging at the same time. daryl closed the door behind him, his movements careful and quiet, not wanting to disturb you.

he slid under the blankets on the bed next to you, careful to keep some space between you. his presence was comforting, and steady. the bed dipped slightly under his weight, and you felt a strange sense of peace wash over you, the last remnants of your earlier teasing fading away.

“you okay?” he asked after a moment, his voice low in the quiet room.

you nodded, snuggling deeper into the blankets. “yeah. i’m good now. thank you.”

daryl shifted a bit, clearly not used to being thanked all that much, but he didn’t say anything, just settled in beside you. the warmth of his body and the steady rhythm of his breathing helped calm you, and you closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion of the night catching up to you.

“g’night daryl,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“night,” he grunted back, his voice softer than you had heard all night.

as you drifted off to sleep, you realised you had never felt quite so cared for until you had met daryl. in his quiet, gruff way, daryl dixon had looked out for you when you needed it most. and that meant more than you could put into words.

[a-boca-do-inferno]

SFW ALPHABET (caesar x human!reader) [request]

warnings: angst, fluff, swearing

words: 3.4k

notes: damn this took me forever cause i was rly feeling it jdfkj anyways i hope you enjoy!

Affection; how affectionate is he?

Caesar is possibly the most affectionate among his peers without a doubt, yet he still would seem somehow “colder” by human standards—mostly because of the different ways apes show any type of affection at all. Being a leader is a big part of who he is, after all, and ever so often that means putting aside personal preferences to be fair for everyone and on top of that, you are human. The ape king has to maintain a certain level of diplomacy when you two are in public as to not stir up unpleasant situations within the colony, a large part of them orchestrated by the likes of Koba, of course.

“He’s trouble.” That’s what Caesar signs to you one time, whilst you both watch over the sleeping apes from his home. The frown on his features is there; unchanging. “Gotta be careful. Fair.”

And you can’t blame him for that. Still, among what it all means for him to show any preference towards you in the public eye, being alone in your place or his is another matter entirely. The king is very touchy, always making sure to wrap a protective arm around your belly while you’re doing some task he couldn’t care less about at that moment. His thick fingers brush your midriff idly, his face nuzzling into your shoulder to get his fill of you for the day; almost like you’re a drug and it’s time for his fix. The element of taboo because of your different species, such a hard pill he has to swallow every day, in that specific position only serves to fuel his desire for you on astronomical levels. He’s completely, helplessly addicted to you.

Best friend; what would he be like as a best friend?

Caesar’s got one of those personalities where it doesn’t matter the relationship he has to you, there’s this unshakeable sense of understanding and security he transpires naturally, along with his obvious need to protect you at all costs, which is arguably shaped by his past experiences with the death of loved ones. Have you ever heard of the term “mom friend”? That is the ape king, all the way. His overprotectiveness might feel overwhelming sometimes, that’s true, but his good intentions are so painfully clear, you simply can’t bring yourself to stay mad at him for long. Not when he tries to win you over with gifts and whatnots; bringing you food when he’s out hunting, handcrafting those flower crowns you love so much, even going as far as confessing his feelings to you through a formal apology, pulling you softly by your elbow after you had supper so you can talk in private.

“How… are you?” Caesar will rasp, his green eyes sweet like honey when directed at you, and that look is all you need to know he’s silently recognizing he was a bit too much earlier—as usual. You cave immediately many times, because there’s no safer place in the world than his furry self holding you tightly, securely, as you fall asleep in his nest.

Cuddles; does he like to cuddle?

Absolutely yes! It’s his favourite time of the day. After so much work with the council, trying to figure out strategies to make apes’ resources last for the whole winter, there’s nothing else Caesar would rather be doing than laying down with you and pressing his body close to yours, cherishing your natural heat. He can’t get enough of your softness, hugging you tight almost like you’re his own personal plushie, his nose rubbing against your neck as he inhales your scent, enjoying every second to the fullest.

“Clingy”, you purr every time, to which the king only huffs, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder even further.

Domestic; does he want to settle down? how is he at cooking and cleaning?

Caesar is very responsible with chores in general, so his home is always neat. He’s definitely a domestic man, preferring the comfort of his own place rather than staying out too much—he loves his community too, of course, yet he’s got a quiet and more tranquil personality—so that’s why he’s invested in caring for his turf. As for cooking, the most he can do is human food, which isn’t so accessible nowadays, but Caesar can hold his ground making an improvised stew when it’s cold.

Also, another one of his favourite times of the day is when you two are in silence at home, just appreciating each other’s company after supper while you groom him in bed. It’s something he’s grateful for; he never asked for it, yet you decided you wanted to socialise and become closer to him through his culture, ape culture, and the king gladly let you do the deed.

Ending; if he had to break up with his mate, how would he do it?

Quite transparently—would casually ask you to join him alone for a serious conversation and lay all cards on the table. Caesar is very mindful with his words and how he says them, watching his tone, his expression, careful not to hurt you more than the absolute necessary. Ultimately, if he ever had to break up with you, it probably wouldn’t have anything to do with lack of sentiment from his part, but rather the impracticality of having a relationship with a human while being an ape—the king, no less. All his decisions are inevitably rational, always in favour of the greater good and in order to maintain harmony in the colony. Even at the expense of his own happiness, no matter how much it would hurt him, and so he’d definitely find the best way to tell it like it is whilst also being the most gentle he could manage.

Fiancé; how does he feel about commitment?

Caesar’s a marriage kinda guy, yep. Being brought up with humans undeniably influenced the way he sees relationships in general and to be honest, he never really felt like his way of approaching the topic fit with the way apes do it, although he’s not talked about it out loud to anyone. Primate culture revolves around utility of a mate and it’s often not monogamous per se, albeit there are some known jealous apes in the group—him included, despite never admitting it to himself either. The usual dynamic is simply a no-no for him, especially with you. He wants it all: the wife, the children, the pets. All he’s entitled to.

Gentle; how gentle is he, both physically and emotionally?

Caesar can be a tough cookie, we all know that. Of course, that is due to the fact he’s the leader and with his responsibilities, among them lie the aching need to appear strong all the time—however, when in your presence, all of that just melts away. You cause him to feel comfortable and safe to be soft and he indulges in that foreign feeling of vulnerability more often than not, allowing himself to relax and let his guard down, if only for brief moments. Physically, it may come as no surprise that the king is ripped. Not sure if it’s genetics or what, but he’s very strong and you feel his strength in all its glory when Caesar is pushing you down against your nest at night. Heh.

Hugs; does he like hugs? what are his hugs like?

Not the biggest hugger in general. The king is cuddly, yes, but on his own terms, on very specific times—when you’re both alone. Normally, Caesar prefers to keep any public displays of affection at a minimum, which isn’t to say he won’t hug you back if you come to hold him; he just won’t initiate it himself. He’s a bulky ape, and so being held by him feels quite literally like being snuggled into a bear hug, your face smashed against his furry, firm chest, his thick arms enveloping you and heating you up almost instantly.

I love you; how fast does he say the L-word?

He says it back immediately after you mention it, as it ignites a memory long lost in his brain. A moment when he was a child and Will silently cooed it into his ear, trying to soothe him after he got worked up and attacked the neighbour that one time. 

“(y/n) loves… Caesar.” He repeats, his voice raspy, green eyes watching you intently as he tilts his head, processing your words and slowly understanding what they truly mean. You nod with a faint smile and he hoots, bringing your foreheads together. “Caesar loves… (y/n).”

Jealousy; how jealous does he get?

Caesar’s unsurprisingly very possessive. He does try to keep it in check for your sake, most of the time, but also because he is a pacifist at heart—though no amount of peace inside the king would ever make him turn the other way whenever his gaze falls on you with another male a little too close. The scowl is inevitable and his nostrils flare, something deep in his gut burning, eating away at his stomach. Anger.

“(y/n)”, he calls—orders, his tone authoritative, his look and signing sharp, such a rare sight from him when talking to you. 

And with the slight huff at your direction, you already know what’s going on and make no fuss about it, politely excusing yourself and leaving the male’s side, approaching Caesar obediently. He stands tall in front of you, still frowning, and puts your body behind his, hissing at the stranger from a distance, his fangs showing in a threatening manner. Nothing much to happen from there, besides everyone around getting the message and dutifully going about their way, preferably away from you.

Kisses; what are his kisses like?

Shy and rough. Caesar does know humans kiss to show their love toward one another, after seeing it happen so much between Will and his girlfriend—but he has a silent insecurity concerning your different anatomies, since your lips are so distinct from his own, so much smoother and smaller, which prompts him to feel too self-conscious and overly alert at the possibility to hurting you with his fangs on accident. He does love receiving your kisses, though, even more so than giving them, readily sheltering himself in your arms as you run a hand through his furry head and pepper him with affection all over his face. His quiet grunts are enough to tell you the king’s not getting out of your embrace anytime soon, if he can help it.

Little ones; how is he around children?

Caesar’s got a naturally soothing presence, even around the most feisty baby apes. He’s overprotective of the little ones too, although not scolding them too roughly as he’s learned this approach was hardly ever effective with Blue Eyes when the prince was younger. His relationship to the young often revolves around his wise counselling—whether they asked for it or not, the kiddos just have to deal with papa Caesar going on and on about some life lesson when they just want to go out and play up in the trees already.

Morning; how are mornings spent with him?

Caesar’s an early bird, so he’s always up first. He’s got a habit of watching you as you sleep, revelling in the sound of your soft and steady breath, his green eyes observing attentively as your chest rises and falls. His routine is what keeps him grounded, and so he grabs some breakfast for you both and gently wakes you to accompany him in the meal before he’s off to his duties in the colony. Sometimes you two chat, other times you eat in silence and meet again at lunch, in the communal spot all the apes gather around. 

Night; how are nights spent with him?

Quietly—again, no surprise there. When Caesar’s not feeling too sexy, it’s often because the king’s very tired, so he refrains from talking a lot and simply enjoys your comforting presence. On good days he will talk about something funny that happened while hunting, and on bad days, his complaints will concern some dispute raised by troublemakers like Koba and his followers. You try your best to soothe his nerves in those moments, reassuring him of the trust the apes have in him not to fall for anyone’s opposition to his guidance, which he’s grateful for, too. It’s nice for him to feel like someone, you, will follow him no matter what. Gives him a sense of security he desperately needs.

Open; when would he start revealing things about himself?

You’d have to ask a lot at first, and not even with the promise of getting straight answers every time you do, despite your best efforts. Caesar’s obviously not an open book and even when he does talk about himself, more so about his old life with humans, you usually have to jump through hoots to interpret his philosophical riddles on your own—sometimes you even think he’s fucking with you on purpose, but you don’t mention it, not wanting to fight for such a small thing. Still, you are the only one who could ever question him as much as you do and not get completely ignored, anyway. He’s got a soft spot for you.

Patience; how easily angered is he?

Not very easily. Caesar’s got his head in the right place mostly—he only ever gets angry when it’s something serious concerning his family directly (you, Blue Eyes, Cornelius) and since he’s always silently making sure that you’re all cared for, it is indeed a rare sight to see him irritated. He does get mildly annoyed whenever you’re teasing him about his jealousy, yet it’s nothing compared to how he behaves when he’s feeling really possessive, as stated before.

Quizzes; how much would he remember about you?

A good amount, actually. Caesar will randomly mention some small detail about you that you didn’t even remember telling him in the first place; some things he says are even just his own conclusions he draws from little pieces of information you provide here and there, and they’re usually pretty accurate, which never fails to amaze you. It only serves to show how intelligent the ape king truly is.

Remember; what is his favourite moment in your relationship?

Possibly the first time Caesar understands you like him—more than a platonic feeling. At that point, though you two had become very close, there had always been this little voice inside saying that it couldn’t be really possible, not even in his wildest dreams. Whatever would you have seen in him, an ape? Sure, it was obvious you’d much rather be around him than any other male in the colony, and sure, you mentioned time and time again how glad you were for his presence as you knew apes had their shortcomings with humanity, and he insisted on integrating you into their world at the best of his ability, regardless. Yet the king never once considered those words anything more than you just being your sweet self. Clueless ass.

“I see it.” Maurice commented one night, signing toward your figure a few rocks down. Caesar eyed his friend slightly puzzled, waiting for him to finish his thought, and the ginger grunted, “how (y/n) looks at Caesar.” He points at the ape king’s chest. 

And Caesar could only scoff, huffing and shaking his head, his hands gesturing rapidly, “Maurice… confused.” His deep voice mocks, to which the orangutan merely shrugged, a hint of amusement in his gaze.

And Maurice was right, as he often was.

Security; how protective is he?

Homeboy’s a bit paranoid, not gonna lie. But can you blame him? Being constantly in a state of war with other humans lurking around, trying to harm his colony and his family, along with the petty quarrels between the apes themselves, surely take its toll on the ape king’s state of mind. Your fights about the topic are very frequent because of that, precisely—whenever Caesar’s more stressed than usual, he’ll give you shit for going out hunting with Blue Eyes or Rocket, no matter how much he trusts them to protect you. In his mind, you’re only safe around him and him only. That’s something you’re both still working on.

Try; how much effort would he put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

Caesar is a very caring mate and likes to flaunt it a bit. He would put his best into quick getaways from the hustle of the colony, making sure to plan something special just for the two of you next to the river, arranging a meal with your favourite fruit on display. He is also be very thoughtful with gifts, getting something personalised just for you like the head accessories you like to wear occasionally. The king is very reliable and diligent, always doing his part to maintain the relationship and keep things running smoothly, it’s just part of his leading nature to sort of take control over things. 

Ugly; what would be some bad habits of his?

Heavy is the head that wears the crown and with Caesar, apart from the responsibilities he’s got to live with, there’s also the never leaving stubbornness. The king has a sense of arrogance and a feeling of superiority that’s honestly not unexpected for someone in his position—he’s only ape, after all. A lot of arguments happen because of his inflexibility, and they usually concern colony affairs that sometimes you two disagree with, which causes a bit of tension when the power dynamics come into play in your relationship. If he’s the king and you’re his mate, then what does that make you, when you’re not even “publicly” acknowledged as such? It’s a tricky question that even Caesar can’t quite answer whenever you ask. 

Vanity; how concerned is Caesar with his looks?

His vanity arises when you two start your relationship officially. Caesar’s not so much concerned with how he looks, but rather how you perceive him, if he’s attractive to you given your different species and anatomy, and that is as far as it will go. He’s got more important matters to attend to than caring about how others—beside you—see him, either physically or otherwise. 

Whole; would he feel incomplete without you?

Yeah. Caesar’s a big softie inside and he feels something for you that is not even comparable to how he felt with Cornelia before—it’s so much more intense and consuming. It’s like you’ve become his very oxygen. Without you everything else seems so dull, colourless, lifeless. Even your silence is different from everybody else’s, the way you blink, the way you shift slightly in your spot beside him. When he can’t smell you around, it’s like the king unconsciously knows he’s too far away from home, and it almost feels unsafe for him to dare exist in that condition. And Caesar doesn’t even think much about it, there’s simply this… strangeness whenever you’re not there. This emptiness. A sense of nothingness that silently terrifies him when he does think of it for more than a second.

Xtra; a random headcanon for him.

Caesar’s a serious guy, it’s his default, but he just loves making you laugh. He’s often finding ways to goof around in his own manner, which only makes it funnier and more endearing to you, seeing this enormous, grumpy ape trying to make jokes for the sole purpose of seeing you smile. He’ll do it anywhere, anytime, with anything he can find close; holding up blueberries to his eyes’ level and making ridiculous faces, hooting and acting like some random goofy monkey, scratching his sides and screeching, sometimes even going as far as joking about giving you his “banana” later on.

You chuckle softly at his antics, bringing him closer into a gentle hug that he gladly accepts, letting out faint hoots at your familiar touch. “You’re so silly.” You murmur between laughs, and the ape king can’t get enough of that sound. It’s music to his ears.

Yuck; what are some things he wouldn’t like, either in general or in a mate?

Recklessness is the way to make Caesar lose it. He can’t help it, he’s got the fatherly and overly responsible thing going on all the time. That’s something he also has to come to terms with when being around you—he’s not sure if it’s human behaviour or if he’s just too much of an uptight ape himself, but you’re someone who seems to like toying with his patience like no one else does. He feels like he’s being tested, at times.

Zzz; what is a sleep habit of his?

Caesar’s a simple guy. He typically sleeps either on his side or on his back and prefers cuddling you from behind, no matter the position he’s in. The king may also occasionally grunt or make other soft sounds in his sleep, but they are generally not loud enough to wake you in his arms.

[snapscube]

Hi there I’m a relatively new streamer on twitch and have been at it for a bit, and I’m finally at a point where I feel confident enough in my setup and general content that I can make edits of my streams, but I don’t have the resources for an editor. I know you don’t really edit your vods (as far as I’m aware) but I was curious if you had any advice, especially with editing down 3-5 hour streams as I feel like I just get overwhelmed with the sheer amount of stuff there is to cut. Thank you for your time, I’m a big fan of your stuff!

I don't currently do the brunt of the VOD editing for the main channel, no, but I used to and I've done it a couple times since bringing on Ellie so I do have a couple pointers! So, first of all, I know it's so much easier said than done but legit at a certain point you gotta just hit the play button and start watching it haha. Sometimes I will only be able to edit a stream in like 10 minute chunks cause it's just so daunting and actively fights against my ADHD. But, even if the sessions I spend editing are short, as long as I'm still doing SOMETHING whenever I get even the smallest burst of motivation to just press the play button it eventually gets easier and, more importantly, gets done.

BUT in terms of my actual tips for the process...

Have a specific editing structure laid out. My recommendation: Watch through the VOD in full, don't worry about cuts just yet. Just write down timestamps for bits you want to include. Even better if you utilize the marker system in whatever editing suite you use to do so, as you can label them and see them visually on the timeline. MAKE SURE YOU WATCH IN 2X SPEED. It's gonna be a bit disorienting at first but I promise you, you'll get used to it and the time saved is gonna be so worthwhile. Then, once you've finished marking your VOD, start making cuts at those markers and copy the cut down clips into a NEW timeline. DON'T delete anything from the timeline you watched/made markers on, just copy stuff to the new one in chronological order. Once you have every marked clip copied over to the new timeline, do a watch-through of the rough cut you just made and start polishing up those cuts for pacing. This is where you can feel free to just slice the shit out of everything, don't be stingy, just do what works best for the video. If you'd like, an extra step you can do here is maybe add some more markers if a particular joke or flair edit comes to mind while you're making pacing cuts, just be sure not to get bogged down in the details just yet. Wait until after you've finished polishing the entire rough cut for pacing, and then you can start jumping to your markers and make the more intensive edits and polish as the final or near-final step!

Give this a try, or modify it to suit your own workflow/schedule! I hope it helps!

[kradeelav]

Hello! I want to learn how to draw content on the more spicy side, but I'm unsure where to start. Do you have any tips/resources for it? I would love to make Corrin/Gunter art and some of my other favorite pairings. Thank you in advance!

on the practical/technical side:

having a solid understanding of anatomy helps, of course - the basic bone structure of course, but how skin, fat, muscle hangs as well. you don't actually need to watch live-action porn to get references (i never have believe it or not), but i do follow a few historical kink/bear magazine archivists online. personally i find that there's more of a variety of beautiful shapes and humans in those old photos, and you generally know it's consensual since they've personally submitted them.

you also can't go wrong with reading other erotic comics ... i say comics vs illustrations since you start to see the pacing of these scenes like any other human interaction and the tools the artists use. when does intimacy turn into foreplay? when does the artist/mangaka zoom in to capture the sensation of the moment? what clever tricks do the artists to capture the climax when the bodies are all pressed together and when finding a good camera angle is tricky? how do they show the heightened feeling with symbols and textures? how is kink power dynamics shown with characters in different positions? do you show faces and the expressions to show the pleasure or not? what comics feel cold and manufactured to you versus ones that capture real eros? why? etc.

on the mental side:

if you're anything like me, you might have a lot of shame to untangle when it comes to harder varieties of erotic art. (i hope not! not everyone does. but it's unfortunately common given the societies we live in.)

it's going to take a while, and it's going to feel really weird at times when you draw something that's uncomfortably intimate or taboo, but that's when you know it's working and you gotta keep pushing through.

you gotta keep drawing.

privately, i have a personal rule that i'll draw anything at least once; if i feel afterwards that it turned out to be a personal squick, i won't go there again, but that guideline has been marvelous to start breaking through the manufactured idea of disgust and also just to experiment with putting myself in other people's shoes about what they find hot. sometimes it's surprising! i've learned a lot.

lastly, on that note - draw what you find deeply intimate. forget about other people. selfshipping? the most niche kinks possible? the kink that feels like the internet can't stand? who gives a shit about them (no taste, the lot of them).

draw the human. the tenderness, the visceral, that overpowering desire for you that almost scares you with how intense it is and that sends your brain alight.

that's going to be timeless.

[melishade]

Attack on Prime New Age Anthology: Reminiscing

Main Story

Return to that Sick Mind II

Return to that Sick Mind III

Return to that Sick Mind IV

The TFP Kids and the Survey Corps share memories about Optimus.

"You know," Jack began, "I don't think we've ever seen Optimus that expressive before."

Armin was lying down on the bed, looking up at the blank ceiling. He turned his head to face Jack, and the older gentleman was leaning against the space where the glass and wall merged.

"He got angry at you guys for coming out to fight," Jack explained, "The idea of Optimus panicking seems surreal. And then...the screaming over the comm. link system."

Armin sighed at that, knowing what Jack was referring to. The moments right after the power of the titans had ended.

"We know it's Optimus now, but...he just seems so different," Jack confessed.

"...How did Optimus use to act when he was leader of the Autobots?" Armin asked.

"Stoic, assured, never really wore his emotions out on his sleeves," Jack explained, "One time I asked him if he wanted to see something funny, but he just said 'no' so bluntly. It didn't mean he didn't care about us or anything. I think it was just a lot of responsibility."

"I did ask him one time if I could come to the Arctic with him and see snow," Rafael chimed in, tying away on his laptop, "He said no, but he promised he would bring me back a snowball. That didn't happen because we had a scraplet infestation, but I did get to see the Arctic later."

"We get snow on the island," Armin explained, "And we had to rent out a place for Optimus to stay in because he didn't want to use all the resources on the neutral ship or make the trips at all. We even made him a large blanket for him to use and keep warm."

"Really?" Rafael asked in surprise.

"Aw, that's sweet," Miko cooed, lying on her back perpendicular to her bed.

"Yeah, Optimus doesn't like winter time," Hanji snickered, knocking their knuckles against the floor to try and find a loose panel.

"Did he wear the blanket like a cape?" Miko asked.

"He did!" Hanji exclaimed with excitement.

"Damn it! I want pictures!" Miko shouted.

"I don't like winter, but Optimus made it just a little bit bearable," Sasha proclaimed, "He told us a lot of his battles on Earth, managed to draw in a whole crowd of people with his story telling."

"Gotta be a good speaker to be a good leader," Jack declared.

"Yeah, we also got into a snowball fight with him," Sasha added.

Miko shot up from the bed while Jack and Rafael snapped their heads at her.

"Optimus Prime? 'Primes don't party'? Was in a snowball fight?!" Miko screeched.

"I concede, some of it was my fault." Hanji raised their hand.

"How the hell do you get Optimus to participate in a snowball fight?!" Jack demanded.

"Well, they asked." Hanji pointed to Armin's cell next to them, "And the minute I phrased it as a 'training exercise', he started annihilating the 104th left and right."

"Sounds about right," Rafael commented.

"Did you know that he lost!" Sasha screeched in anger.

"HE LOST?!" They all screamed.

"Yeah, somehow Armin managed to get him in the back! Which I'm still pressed about!" Sasha shouted.

"Yeah, I guess I got lucky." Armin rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Yeah, some luck! I want to join in on the snowball fight next time!" Miko declared.

"Miko, he's probably not-!"

"He's not escaping this!" Miko cut Rafael off.

"That's insane. Optimus never participated in any recreational activities. Now he's out here having snowball fights," Jack said in disbelief.

"Optimus was still quite reserved when we first met him," Hanji explained, "It did take a lot of talks and coaxing to really get him out of his shell."

"I mean, you guys did a pretty great job," Jack praised.

"I think part of it was that initially, Optimus was considered a threat among our people," Hanji explained.

"Really?" Miko deadpanned.

"Optimus is a giant, metal, titan and we thought humanity was extinct by man-eating titans. How do you think that'll make the population feel?" Hanji pressed their ear against the floor, "He wasn't exalted or worship as a Prime. He was feared. Then many of us started seeing him as an ally and equal. One of the big things Optimus did to gain Levi's trust was prepare the bodies of his former squad for a funeral."

"That's really thoughtful," Miko declared.

"It...definitely helped a lot of us with the grieving process," Hanji admitted.

"Wait, what do you mean worshipped?" Willy asked, awakened by the conversation at hand.

"According to Ratchet, being a Prime is the highest honor a Cybertronian can receive," Rafael explained, "It's like being ordained by god."

"...you're kidding, right?" Colt asked.

"He literally went down to the core of their planet, which has his god Primus, and he gave Optimus the Matrix," Rafael explained, "Not to mention all the cool stuff he can access with it."

"The Forge of Solus Prime, which made anything with a swing. It's broken now. The Star Saber. You guys saw it cut up the Colossal Titans," Miko listed, "Hey Jack, do you still have the Key to Vector Sigma?"

"The what?" Armin asked in confusion.

Jack dug into his pockets and pulled out a glowing rectangular metal sheet. "Managed to snag it before the rest of my clothes got taken from me."

"What does that do?" Onyankopon asked, exiting from the makeshift bathroom.

"We had to use it to download Optimus' memories when he got amnesia," Jack answered.

"Amnesia?!" Gabi sounded panicked, "When did Optimus get amnesia?!"

"There was a world ending event we had on Earth," Jack explained, "Optimus and the Autobots went to stop it, and Optimus had to use the Matrix in his chest to stop the event from happening and the Earth from getting destroyed. It caused his memories to get wiped and for him to revert back to Orion Pax."

"And then Buckethead kidnapped him," Miko seethed.

"Wow, Megatron, it just gets worse for you," Hanji muttered under their breath.

"Optimus gave me the key and told me it was for the groundbridge power supply," Jack explained, "I ended up going to Cybertron with Arcee to download his memories."

"Wow, Optimus lied to you and you didn't notice?" Hanji raised their head from the floor.

"Hey, things were pretty tense," Jack retorted.

"Optimus is a shit liar!" Hanji exclaimed.

"Look, he probably gave it to me and lied about it because he knew the others would try to stop him," Jack assumed, "Optimus...let me keep it after we got him back."

"...Optimus never let us keep any important relics," Hanji muttered.

"Didn't he start teaching you how to read their language?" Armin recalled.

"Whoa, you can read Cybertronian?" Rafael asked in surprise.

"The older language. The Golden Age Text." Hanji waved off.

"Still, that's impressive," Rafael praised.

"Thanks." Hanji rubbed the back of their head.

"...Hey how did Optimus handle the war being over?" Miko couldn't help but ask, "The Bots handled it differently, but Boss Bot was away from Cybertron."

"Yeah...Optimus was sad about it," Armin explained.

"Really?" Jack asked with concern.

"I think he was sad about the fact that he couldn't go back home," Armin explained, "The neutral ship was mainly used for spare parts. We couldn't use it for communications or transportation. Arcee and Wheeljack weren't there at the time, and Megatron said he got thrown through a spacebridge, so he didn't remember the way back. Optimus was stranded on another world, and...majority of that world hated him and wanted him gone."

Gabi felt her stomach drop at Armin's explanation, and she covered her mouth and curled up into a ball to hide her tears. Willy darted his eyes in guilt while Colt stared in pity.

"But that doesn't mean we didn't do something nice for him!" Hanji declared, "We scavenged for every single book on the walls and a few from Marley and got him a library to keep, since he used to be an archivist and all!"

"You guys made Optimus a library?" Jack couldn't help but smile.

"Why not?" Hanji smiled back, "We care about Optimus. He's our ally and friend."

Jack looked down at the key card and smiled. "Thanks."

"For what?" Armin asked.

"For watching out for Optimus and taking care of him," Jack elaborated, "Sounds like you guys really made Optimus happy."

"We tried our best." Hanji shrugged, "Although, can't say I've made it easier for him. One time, he told us about Halloween, and I threatened to wipe some information from the neutral ship if he didn't tell us more scary stories."

"He told you scary stories?!" Miko exclaimed.

"Yeah, and we made a betting pool on it!" Hanji cackled, "And then Buckethead ruined the whole thing with a Cybertronian horror story!"

"Who won the pot?!" Miko asked.

"Mikasa!" Hanji grinned, "She wouldn't crack until Megatron told his story! Oh, and he also told us about a holiday called 'Day of the Dead'-!"

"He told you about Dia de Los Muertos?" Rafael asked in surprise and excitement, "He still remembered what I told him?"

"We couldn't do a massive festival, but we did have a toast in the cemetery where our comrades were buried," Armin explained, "It was nice."

Rafael set his laptop down and stood up. "We we're done, I'm taking everyone to a proper festival! We'll make altars and we'll eat concha bread and dance!"

"What's concha bread?!" Sasha asked with excitement.

Jack watched with a small smile as the conversation continued. The spy felt something vibrate in his pocket and pulled out his phone. He opened his text messages and read the most recent one.

Inquire about Eren Jaeger.

Jack started typing back. They don't want to talk about him yet.

We looked into Megatron's mind with the cortical psychic patch.

Jack typed furiously. Whoa! What?!

We've learned information about Eren Jaeger, but Megatron has confessed that he has a negative bias towards him.

I thought the patch didn't alter memories.

We still need more information on Eren. There is information that is missing. We need a different perspective.

Jack sighed to himself before standing up. "Gotta go to the bathroom." He walked over to the back and opened the door to the makeshift bathroom. He locked the door and took a deep breath before texting Ultra Magnus once more.

What did you find?

Jack waited. He saw the bubbles, waiting for the message to be sent. Jack was confused when he got a video. He played the video and closed the lid of the toilet before sitting down on it.

“Wait! Eren, please! Please listen to me!” Jack heard Optimus' voice, “Don’t activate the Colossal Titans within the wall! I understand your fear of Marley and the rest of the humans on this world! But this is not the way to handle the situation! You have the titan power; you have weakened Marley! That alone should be enough!”

Jack took noticed of Eren, the same armored titan that showed up in the feed. He looked like he was nervous, hesitating.

 “This violence; this lust for vengeance will only lead to more destruction and devastation!” Optimus declared, “Listen to reason, Eren! Stand down now, and let us come with a better solution!”

Eren growled as he threatened to scream, but Optimus continued. “Listen to me, Eren! If you activate the rumbling, you will not only be destroying the entire world but the island as well! The people you wish to protect: Historia, Mikasa, Armin, the Survey Corps will be affected! Innocent humans, both Marleyan and Eldian who had nothing to do with attacks against the island, will be killed in the ensuing chaos! The entire world will be devastated, and the only ones that have survived will only see this action as a tasteless once! Creating a new world on mountains of bodies and rivers of blood is not justified! If you do this, you will only be seen as a monster, regardless of your motivation!”

“Eren, I know this isn’t the path that you want, and if you stand down now we can find another solution! This isn’t the path to peace! Think for one second about the weight of your actions! If you do this, you will cause humanity’s extinction! That will be with you for the rest of your life! Do you really wish to be the one?! Do you really wish to be the cause of the death and destruction of all of mankind?!”

Jack leaned forward as he saw Optimus take slow steps towards Eren.

“That’s enough, Eren,” Optimus whispered, holding out his servo, “Please, come home.”

Jack knew what came next. This guy made up his mind. He witnessed that decision, but he still grew ridged when he heard the titan speak. He didn't understand what he said because of the lack of lips, but it caused Optimus to scream his name and reach out for him. Jack covered his mouth in shock as something shot his head off, but then a centipede emerged from the spine and reconnected with the head. Jack had stopped the video once he saw the walls beginning to fall. He took deep and heavy breaths, trying to calm his nerves. He never felt so sick, and Jack was now left with one raging question in his mind.

How the hell does someone get pushed so far into believing that genocide is the only option?

(Okay, so for reference:

Halloween Anthology: Optimus tells scary stories from Earth to the Survey Corps in honor of the Halloween Spirit. Bonus: Dia de Los Muertos: Optimus and the Survey Corps honor the ones that they have lost. Winter Anthology:  Optimus and the Survey Corps navigate the every changing twists and turns of the weather as the seasons change from fall to spring.

Like these are canon to the AOP story. Just as a reminder.)

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Quicksilver Princess Ch. 5

Series summary: A fantasy AU in which Dean is part of a long line of warriors who protect the kingdom. What happens when his rescue of the little princess with the quicksilver eyes gets him a possible future bride?

Series Warnings: Nothing major. Show typical violence. Fantasy violence. Smut. Angst. Fluff. Each chapter will have its own specific warnings. So, watch for those.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x OFC (Melissande)

Word Count: 5,730

A/N: This is the ridiculously long postponed Chapter 5. (Ch. 4 was posted more than 2 years ago! 🙈🙈) This fic won my poll to see what orphaned series I'd finish next. And I'm so thrilled that I'm finally able to finish it. I swear Chapter 6 will be up in the next week or so at the latest. It's all outlined and ready to go, just gotta write it out. But it will DEFINITELY not be another two years. *crosses heart*

Hope you enjoy this chapter! ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Dean came awake with a start, sitting up quickly and then immediately groaning and pressing his hand to his head as it throbbed. He squeezed his eyes closed for a minute, feeling slightly nauseous and trying to make sense of the jumble of images in his mind. 

Mellie's face floated into focus and his eyes popped open.

“Mellie?” He called out, sitting up quickly and looking around as his head throbbed again. A few feet away, Rowena held out her hands towards him.

“Try not to move too quickly. I had to use strong magic to fell you and that can sometimes leave a person feeling a wee bit peaky.”

Suddenly everything came rushing back to Dean and he jumped up, charging towards the tiny witch. He stopped just short of wrapping his hands around her neck, but his fingers itched from the restraint.

“You let her go!” He roared at her. “To save your own skin you gave her up just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

Rowena shook her head. “You've really a very low opinion of me, haven't you? This is the second time you've accused me of selling out our wee princess.”

Dean clenched his teeth. “Because I know who you are and how you operate. You'd do anything to save yourself.”

Rowena shrugged. “I won't apologize for prioritizing my safety. But it just so happens that this time, the princess's safety and mine go hand in hand. I need her to stop the Queen because nothing that duplicitous, mangy monarch has planned could possibly do me, or any of us for that matter, any good.”

Dean swallowed hard. “So you sent Mellie out to be slaughtered, and you think THAT is a solution? If anything, you've just made the queen's attempt at power that much easier.”

Rowena shook her head. “No, because you are going to save her, remember?”

Dean growled in frustration, turning abruptly to begin pacing around thel grand entranceway. “You're as bad as Mellie! Just how am I supposed to get into the castle, past hundreds of guardsmen, through the queen's own personal guards and into her suites to stop her from…”

He lifted his arms and spun back to face the witch. “From what exactly? We have no idea what she's doing, what she's planning! So, how can I even try to go in prepared?”

Rowena nodded. “It’s a quandary to be sure, but you’re a resourceful young lad, I have faith you’ll figure it out.”

Dean just glared at her. Rowena raised a delicate shoulder. “Look, all I can tell you is that the Queen may pretend she’s a part of the Great Church as the monarchs are meant to be, but she’s a witch, through and through, except that she's a coward and hides it. But her father was a devout follower of the old gods, and he taught her to be the same.”

Dean frowned. “How do you know that?”

Rowena looked away coyly. “I maybe, perhaps, let him court me for a few years after his wife died.”

Dean’s eyes got wide. “So you know the Queen? Personally?”

Rowena scoffed. “I wouldn’t claim that much. When I was with Roland, little Layo’ita was hardly ever around. Her days were mostly spent learning how to marry King Yasa and be his First Queen. 

Yasa’s maiden aunt lived at Roland’s keep to teach Layo’ita how to be royal - the protocols and expectations, as well as the history of the Coll family’s reign of Sanso’ye for three hundred years. She had a lot to learn, so we didn’t see her often. She’d essentially been the Coll’s property from the day the betrothal papers were signed when she was just two weeks old.”

Rowena sighed. “I could almost feel sorry for her back then. She was just this plain little slip of a girl, and it must have been a very heavy burden for her to carry.”

Dean grit his teeth. “Yes, well now she’s a murderer, so I’m afraid I don’t share your sympathy.”

Rowena arched an eyebrow. “I said I could ALMOST feel sorry for her. But even back then, she had a kind of mean streak in her. And Roland encouraged it. When she was ten years old she was practicing a complicated courtier’s dance and slipped and fell flat on her arse. Her handmaid, the woman who had been assigned to her at birth, who’d doted on her constantly for ten years, chuckled slightly at the slip up and Layo’ita had her taken away and severely whipped. When he found out about it, Roland told her she’d done right, that she was a product of the old gods and they wouldn’t allow for mockery.”

Rowena’s lip curled. “I didn’t stay with him long after that.” She sighed. “I know for a fact that he encouraged her to pursue magic and the old ways. But she hides it very well. I don’t think many people in the kingdom even have a clue about her witchery. Hypocrite.” She huffed. 

Dean closed his eyes. “Alright, how does any of this help me? It just means that on top of the couple hundred guardsmen and personal guards between me and the Queen, apparently I also have her powerful magical abilities to contend with.”

“Yes, which is an important fact to know going in, don’t you think?” Rowena asked with pique. “You’re welcome, Winchester.”

Dean sighed. “Yes, thank you, Witch.” He rubbed a hand over his face. His stomach felt sick as he thought of Mellie holed up with a crazed, dark-hearted woman bent on power.

“I don’t know where to start.” He said, a little desperately. “Obviously I need help, but I’m telling you, the other Warriors won’t listen to me. Or the vast majority of them won’t.”

Rowena shook her head. “I think you’re underestimating your own persuasiveness as well as the Warriors’ sense of what’s right. The members of your clan have powerful instincts that skirt the edges of being magical themselves.”

“We are not magical.” Dean said with a frown. “We're just very good at our duties, and we take our oaths seriously.”

Rowena rolled her eyes. “As you say, dear. The point being that those good instincts will help them hear the truth of your mission.”

Dean shook his head and sighed deeply. “I suppose it's my only hope, isn't it?”

“Likely is.” She held up a finger. “Just wait one moment, I have something that might help you.”

She walked out of the room, but was back almost instantly with two small leather bundles that she handed to Dean. He looked at them and raised a brow.

Rowena covered them in his hand. “These reveal spell work. You've got a powerful witch on your hands, one who has been able to hide her magic for a very long time. But this bag will glow purple in the presence of magic and if you burn one, it will reveal to you what magic has been used, so you can't be fooled by trickery.”

Dean nodded. “That will be helpful, thank you.”

Rowena smiled at him, and he recognized it as genuine. “You can thank me when that wee princess is safe and that lying, cowardly Witch Queen is dead.”

Dean nodded. “Done.”

***

Melissande was trying not to panic.

The ride from Rowena’s to the castle had taken half a day. Her surrender had been simple enough; she’d merely told the Guardsmen that she was ready to be taken to the First Queen, and one of them had swept her up in front of him on his horse and shackled her wrists before galloping away. They’d traveled for hours and had arrived at the castle just as the sun was at its zenith in the sky.

The solar eclipse will happen in less than a day, Melissande thought with a little thrill of fear. But then she shook her head. No, I believe in you, my Winchester Warrior, I know you’ll get here on time.

When they got to the castle, the guard she’d been riding with lifted her down and then took her to a cell in the dungeons of the castle. It was bleak, but it was clean and there was one high window that let in some light and air.

As dungeons went, she supposed it could be worse.

She’d been to the King's Castle less than a dozen times throughout her life, and only a handful of times in the last dozen years. All her life she'd lived with her mother in the Blue wing of the Northern Castle. When she was younger, her father’s other wives and children had lived there too. The Second Queen had lived in the Yellow Wing with her son, and the Third Queen had lived in the Green Wing with her two daughters.

Melissande was many years younger than her other siblings and as such, they’d never been close. 

The First Queen had given birth to one son and one daughter. But the baby girl had died very shortly after birth, and she’d never met her eldest brother, heir to the throne, Prince Lien. By the time she was born, he was living far away, governing some of Sanso’ye’s territories in The Lands Beyond.

Her second brother, Prince Ar'tak, was a captain in the King’s Forces and fighting in some endless war across the sea. She only had vague, unreliable memories of him, since he left when she was barely four years old. 

Her two elder sisters, Par’ita, and Sol’min had been married off to lesser Princes in Misola, when Melissande was eight. They had been seventeen and eighteen respectively and with a decade separating their ages, they'd had very little interest in spending time with their eight year old half sister.

So, she didn’t really know any of her half-siblings very well, but she’d been close with her father. Or she thought she had.

But since he’d stopped coming to visit the Northern castle when she was six, she'd only seen him from afar during those official events that her mother had insisted they travel south to attend, “because it was the proper thing to do”. Her sisters’ weddings had been two of those occasions. 

Every time they'd gone to the castle, no matter how brief their visit, Melissande had always secretly hoped her father would notice her and come running, excited to see her once again, as he used to be.

She still remembered how it used to feel when he would come to visit. They usually knew he'd be coming, but sometimes he surprised them, and he'd stride through the door of their sitting room, and his deep, calm, voice would fill the stone room with warmth.

Melissande would jump up and run to him, despite her mother's loving admonishment that proper ladies didn't run and leap into people's arms. Her father had no such compunction, however, and would whisk her off the ground in a sweeping arc that made her squeal in delight.

Her mother may not have leapt into his arms, but she walked into them quickly, and happily. Her father would hold her in one arm and wrap the other around her mother's waist and pull her close. Hera would rest her head on his wide chest, and it was always the happiest Melissande ever saw her.

When he stopped coming to visit them, Melissande missed him terribly, but she didn't think her mother ever really got over his loss. She stayed the same loving, caring mother she'd always been, but underneath she always seemed just a little sad. It hurt Melissande's heart to know her mother died with that sadness still inside her; she’d never be relieved of it.

Maybe, if the priests or sorcerers were right, her mother was resting peacefully with her lost family and ancestors in another realm, and maybe Melissande would be able to see her there again, one day.

But not anytime soon. She thought. Because Dean is coming to save me.

As Melissande sank onto the dingy, slightly dusty floor, an idea came to her. Maybe Dean would reach out to the king and explain what was happening. She refused to believe her father knew everything that was going on, and was simply refusing to help her, or worse, was in on the Queen's plans.

Why hadn’t she thought to tell Dean to seek him out. Had she actually feared his involvement, deep down, or had he just been out of her life for so long, that reaching out to him for help simply hadn’t occurred to her.

Before she could ponder the troubling idea for long, however, Layo’ita came sweeping grandly into the dungeon to smile wickedly at Melissande in her cage.

The silver-eyed princess jumped to her feet quickly as the queen approached the bars of the cell. The First Queen was draped in seemingly endless silks, many layers of long trains trailing behind her in the dust. Her skin was pulled so tightly over her bones that her face resembled a grinning skull as she laughed at Melissande.

“Oh, my wee little bastard fey, how beautiful you've become. You favor your whorish mother, though of course, your eyes come from your father's side of the family.”

Melissande felt her muscles stiffen at the insult to her mother, but ignored it, since she knew Layo’ita was just trying to rile her. 

“You won't get away with this, witch. My father will stop you.”

The Queen's ghoulish mouth spread wide and a laugh that was almost a cackle poured out. 

“You think…” More laughter. “You believe your father will stop me?”

She stepped close to the bars and spoke softly. “Trust me when I say, he's most assuredly on my side.”

Melissande’s heart balked at that idea. But she hadn't seen her father for nearly thirteen years. Did she even really know him? Until she'd been sitting in this cell, it hadn't even occurred to her to go to him for help.

Layo'ita was still chuckling as she tilted her head as though contemplating Melissande. Then she nodded like she was answering her own question. 

“Why not?” She said aloud and snapped her fingers.

As fast as blinking, Melissande was suddenly in a different cell - a much darker one. There was no window here and the air was fetid and dank. It smelled like mold and old rotting things. As her eyes adjusted slowly, she could make out the stone walls, and the chains that were attached to them at various points.

All she could hear was a rhythmic drip, drip, drip of water off to her right, and the scuttling and scurrying of what had to be mice or rats of some kind.

Grateful that she wasn't attached to the chains that hung there, Melissande began walking around the long narrow cell. As she got a sense of her surroundings, she realized the room was split in two parts; a crumbling wall that was half collapsed, separated them.

She walked carefully towards the wall and then pulled up short when a voice called out from the other side.

“Who's there? Go away! Leave me alone!”

She jumped at the sudden noise, and her heart was beating out of her chest. But despite the stranger's words, she moved forward. There was something familiar in that voice, though it sounded parched and slightly raw.

She walked tentatively around to the other side of the half wall and her heart stopped all together as she saw the man huddled in the corner.

“Father?”

***

The taproom in King's Town was busy, but not stuffed full when Dean walked in. Good, he'd be able to be heard. The barman, Sterin, waved to Dean. He knew him well.

He began pouring his usual mug of ale, but Dean waved him off. 

“Apologies, Sterin, I have no time for drinking tonight. I'm only here to address your patrons.” He waved at the table of a dozen or so Warriors.

Both Sterin and the Warriors grumbled, most of the Winchesters turned away from him and concentrated intently on the ale in their cups.

But he was eternally grateful that two of his friends were there. Robert and Jody were a married couple who'd trained together and then fought together very impressively for more than twenty years. They'd always maintained a stalwart support of John and Sam, though most of their fellow Winchester Warriors said they were fools.

Their friendship had kept Dean sane in the early days after the loss of his father and brother.

They were stationed at the Southernmost Winchester Keep, located on The Shield, so they rarely came this far North. He wanted to believe it was Providence that had brought them so far just when he needed them the most.

They both stood up, and Jody came forward to hug him.

“Dean! We were going to head out to see you on our way back down south. But this is better! Now we can dine together.”

“And drink.” Robert added, shaking Dean's hand and slapping him on the back.

“It's so good to see you both, but I'm afraid I have no time to eat or drink.”

Robert's face became serious and Jody's was worried.

“What's wrong, son?” Robert asked.

Dean nodded at them, but called out to the other Warriors at the long table as well. 

“I need help from all of you.” A couple Winchesters looked his way, but most of them just ignored him.

“The kingdom needs you.”

That got a few more heads to turn in his direction.

One of the men he didn't know very well, he thought he was called Ketch, scowled at him. “And why should we believe anything you say, traitor.”

Robert bristled and took a step towards the snide man, but Dean grabbed his forearm. “No, it's fine.” He said in an easy tone.

“I just need you to listen.” Before he could be interrupted, he spoke quickly. “Fourth Queen Hera is dead, and her daughter, the Princess Melissande has been taken prisoner by the Guardsmen.”

He knew he'd hit the right nerve by mentioning the Guardsmen, as all the Warriors grumbled and a few actually spit as though they were warding off evil. The Warriors were not keen on the Guardsmen, feeling correctly that they'd been usurped by them.

Robert shook his head. “How can Queen Hera be dead? When did this happen? And what possible reason did those tin cans give for taking the little princess?” He asked, using the insulting nickname given to the Guardsmen because of their metal armor.

“The Queen was killed, and they took Mellie because the First Queen claims that she was the one who murdered her mother.”

There was general scoffing and disbelief among the group, including some of the other patrons. 

“Mellie?” Jody asked quietly, raising a knowing brow, while the others talked amongst themselves and shared their doubts.

Dean looked down at Jody and he knew she could read him like an open book, so he was grateful to look away and return to the questions being thrown at him. 

More slowly than he really had patience for, he eventually explained the whole story to everyone's satisfaction. He left out the part where he and Mellie got married. If they all lived through this he wanted her to have the ability to annul their marriage quietly and without harming her reputation. So, he simply told them that he'd tried to protect her without providing particulars.

He also left out the fact that he believed the First Queen was a powerful witch, only saying that they were unsure what the First Queen wanted with Mellie. That little detail might be too much for the credibility of the story. Also, they’d demand to know why he believed it and he didn’t want to sell Rowena out and bring her trouble. He just needed The Warriors to help him get in the door; he'd deal with the witch himself.

As the Warriors’ questions fell silent, Ketch raised one last important one.

“And where exactly is the King in all of this? I know over the last dozen years, he's taken a much more subdued role; most people agree that the attempt on his life by men he trusted completely, has made him overly cautious. But surely, in such a situation, with his wife murdered and his own child implicated, surely he'd show himself to deal with it.”

Dean nodded. “Exactly my thoughts, and yet we've heard nothing from him. He hasn't come to any of us or the Guardsmen to try and find the murderer. And in fact, no one even knows Queen Hera is dead.”

He took a deep breath. “I believe the King has been incapacitated in some way. I believe he is unable to act or to give voice to his needs.”

“Uh, Dean,” Jody raised her finger in the air. “Just one problem with that theory, Robert and I spoke with him earlier this afternoon and he wasn't incapacitated at all.”

Dean was taken aback. “Why and how did you meet with the King?”

Robert answered. “We've been after the Council for months now to sit down with us about the state of things in The Shield. There are marauders there, coming in from the sea, and killing and pillaging the villagers up and down the coast. But the council has refused every time, saying it was on us as Warriors to deal with it.”

Jody cut him off, clearly frustrated. “How we're supposed to ‘deal with it’ is beyond me. We have four Warriors to cover the entire Shield, and almost no resources. We've written endless letters that have gone unanswered, or were answered in a very unsatisfactory way. So today we finally just showed up and refused to leave until we met with the Council.”

“We met with them alright,“ Robert continued the story, “and the King was there too. We weren't expecting that. But he said he came because he was very annoyed with us. He told us that he was aware of the problem, but he was sick to death of hearing about how we were failing him once again. He was angry and certainly didn't seem incapable of voicing his concerns.”

Dean frowned, a frown that turned into a scowl as Ketch stared at him. “So, what exactly are we to believe, hmm? That the king is well and fine, but will not come to us for help because we are now despised thanks to your family? Or should we take you at your word, and believe this very intricate lie you've concocted?”

“I have spoken no lie here.” Dean said firmly, his voice dark and deep. “The Princess is being held by the First Queen, there is a plot to end her life, and it's up to us to save her. I don't know what the King's role is in all of this, but I feel in my gut that something has gone very wrong for him. I just don't understand what.”

He breathed in deeply and put every ounce of conviction into his words. 

“I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Mellie will die if we don't save her. So, I am asking you all, begging you, in fact, to believe me when I say the kingdom is in trouble. Believe me when I say, my father and brother were innocent. And believe me when I tell you that our answers, and our chance to once again fulfill our oaths to protect Sanso’ye and its people, are waiting beyond the Guardsmen at the gate. Our answers lay inside the castle, they lay in saving the princess that I've already saved once.”

He clenched his jaw, his resolve hardening. “And with or without you all, I will save her again.” He let his chest deflate. “But, I could sure use your swords, Winchesters.”

Robert and Jody flanked him. Jody patted his arm. “You have ours, gladly.”

Slowly a few of the others stood, and then more, and then finally all but Ketch, stood with swords at the ready. 

Dean stared at the last man sitting down and Ketch stared back, studying him. Finally, he drained his cup and stood. 

“It's about time someone showed those Guardsmen how it's done. I certainly won't miss out on that.”

Dean sighed and let a small smile lift the corner of his mouth. 

“Alright, what's the strategy?”

***

Melissande felt her world tilt as she looked down at the man she barely recognized as her father. Surely he hadn't deteriorated so much since she'd last seen him a year ago, at the Thistle Day celebration. It was the annual anniversary of the day the Coll family supposedly sprung from the earth in a field of Thistles to be caretakers of Sanso’ye. When she'd seen him from afar, he'd been fit, hale and hearty, as he'd given the royal benediction to the week long celebrations.

Now though, chained to the wall, he was gaunt almost to the point of starvation and even in the dim light that emanated from a small lamp sitting beside him, his skin looked gray and papery.

Beside the lamp sat an empty bucket and a few piles of bones, including what was obviously the skeleton of a rat. Melissande felt her stomach lurch and she was worried she might be sick.

As she took a few steps closer to the man on the ground, he picked up some of the bones and threw them at her. 

“Get away from me you shrew! I told you this won't work anymore. I know your disgusting tricks now.”

He was obviously furious, but his voice was reedy and thin as he railed at her. In spite of her confusion and fear, her heart broke for the pain she could hear in his words, and in the way he curled in on himself.

She took a step closer and he buried his head in his drawn up, skinny knees. “Can't you just leave me here to die.”

Tears fell as she knelt on the filthy floor beside him. “Papa?” She whispered and she saw him flinch like he'd been slapped. 

She reached out and tentatively touched his cheek. He raised his head and stared at her with tears falling. “Layo, please stop. I don't understand your hatred. Just stop.”

Melissande shook her head. “Papa, I don't know what you're saying. It's me. I'm not…I mean, how could I be the First Queen?”

She stayed close to him, and could see the change coming over his face as an obviously very wary hope cropped up. 

“Come…come closer, child.”

She got even closer to him and he inhaled deeply, sniffing at her. More confused than ever, Melissande looked at him and shook her head.

“What are you doing?”

Her father's mask of pain and fear slipped a little further into hope. “You…smell like sunshine.” He croaked, and more tears fell. “Her Duplicates always smell of rotting eggs.” 

His chains rattled as he lifted his manacled hand to reach out and touch her cheek. He gasped in a watery breath. 

“You're warm!” He said shakily. “Oh, beautiful girl, say you're really my sweet Melissande or just end me here, please, I beg you. I can't take having it ripped away from me again.”

“It's me, Papa. I promise. But what don't you want ripped away from you?”

“Hope.” He said, his voice creaky. “Every time she sends down a Duplicate, they work even harder to convince me that you, or Hera are here to save me. They seem to know things, and I want to believe them so badly. But no matter how real she makes them, she can't get rid of their cold skin or disgusting smell.”

Fear crept back into his gaze. “Please don't just be a better version.”

Melissande threw her arms around his neck like she had when she was little. 

“No, Papa. I'm real, I'm here. Believe me.”

“Alright.” He said gruffly. “I will believe you, because I want to so badly.”

Melissande pulled back, wiping away tears and shaking her head. “But I'm so confused. Why are you down here? How long have you been down here?”

Yasa looked at her and gave a watery sigh. “How old are you now, little one?”

Melissande blinked. “Nineteen, heading towards twenty years old. Why?”

“Well, I've completely lost track of time down here. I always tried to guess based on how old the Duplicates of you looked, and I knew it had been years, but I was never sure. If you're nineteen, though, then that means I've been down here for twelve years.”

Melissande gasped. “Twelve years! How is that possible? I just saw you a year ago on Thistle Day.”

Yasa shook his head. “No, that wasn't me. it was Thistle Day twelve years ago that she did this to me.”

“Twelve years.” Melissande whispered. “My god, that was when…” She stared at her father and raised a questioning brow, Dean's face swimming in her mind's eye.

“Papa, twelve years ago, The Winchester Warrior Chieftain, John, was hanged for an attempted assassination, on you. His son was incarcerated in the mines for aiding him. But, were you even there then?”

Yasa closed his eyes. “Yes, I was there. In fact, John and Sam were only in the castle that night because I'd called them to me.”

He ran a knobby, skinny hand down his face. “I suspected Layo was plotting something, but I didn't know what, and I didn't know who I could trust in the castle. So, I went to Sam and John on my own, hidden within a long traveling cloak so no one would know it was me. I asked them to come to the castle after midnight when it was quiet, and help me work out the truth, and to meet me in the library in the West Wing.”

He sighed and let his head drop back against the damp, weeping stone wall. 

“I knew Layo dabbled in a bit of magic here and there, but I had no idea she was so practiced and powerful.”

Yasa closed his eyes tightly. “When I went into the library to wait for them, she was already there, holding a knife to your throat. And when John and Sam arrived she was holding a knife to mine.”

Melissande was shaking her head as her father opened his eyes. “No, what do you mean? The Queen never kidnapped me or threatened me with a kni-”

Melissande's eyes widened. “A Duplicate.”

Yasa nodded. “Yes, and another when Sam and Dean saw me there being threatened. She needed to keep the real me alive to connect with her Duplicate, so she couldn't risk an actual knife to my throat. But Sam and John couldn't have known that.

How confused they must have been when, hours later, it seemed as if I just stood there while they were charged with trying to kill me. They must have believed I was in on their downfall, and they couldn't possibly know who to trust either. But I was locked up down here by then. Layo'ita came to my cell later, to tell me all about it and taunt me by reminding me that not only would no one ever be coming to save me, no one would even know I was gone.”

Melissande's eyes filled with tears as she thought about how hopeless that would feel.

Yasa reached out a manacled hand to wipe away the wetness from her cheek. “But that was my own fault, little one. I'd abandoned you and your mother, my other children and wives. You know, I never loved any of my wives the way I loved your mother. I married Layo’ita because it was my duty, I married Frishnia and Gayla because it was good politics. But I married your mother simply because I loved her so much. 

I respected my second and third wives as the mothers to my children and good women, and tried to make sure they were happy. And Layo'ita never seemed to care when I went to visit them and my other children. And I think it was because she knew that there was mutual respect between the three of us, but no deep love.”

He shook his head. “But as soon as I married Hera it was different. She was moody and jealous immediately. I tried to honor her as my first wife, tried to respect her and her position. But it was never enough. Until one day she demanded I stop visiting the Northern Castle altogether. It led to a tremendous fight and she wept bitterly, telling me I was being cruel and heartless and showing her no regard, to treat her so.”

He sighed deeply. “I felt horribly guilty. So, I said I'd stay away from all of you. I abandoned my children, abandoned my love, and for what? To appease the heart of a traitorous, vile witch. And a year later, I was down here.”

Yasa looked deeply into Melissande’s eyes. “Oh, my little silver-eyed princess, I'm so very grateful I've had the chance to unburden my heart to you, tell you my regrets for leaving you behind. Please forgive me. And please make sure your brother and sisters know I never should have left them either.”

Melissande took her father's hand. “I understand, Papa, and I do forgive you, of course. But I won't have to tell my siblings anything. You can tell them yourself. We're going to be rescued!”

She clasped her father's hand tightly between her own. “I swear to you, you're getting out of this disgusting place and we're going to feed you warm soups and wrap you in warm wool blankets and before you know it this place will be nothing but a memory.”

Sudden, high-pitched laughter broke through the air, making Melissande jump and gasp. The Queen's shrill, disembodied voice followed it. 

“Well, that’s partially true. You won't spend one more night in this place, my dear husband, I promise you that.”

Then just as before, without warning, there was the sound of a snap and suddenly both Melissande and Yasa were out of the dungeon and thrust into a brighter, but still windowless, round room.

Chains raised themselves from the wall and wrapped around Yasa’s wrists, pinning him against the stones.

Melissande felt herself being pushed along the floor as though a strong wind was at her back. She stumbled against a stone table and from out of nowhere, the First Queen appeared at her side, snapping her fingers again. Melissande found herself quickly strapped to the table, chains wrapping around her waist, and shackling her wrists and ankles to the table.

Queen Layo’ita smiled her dark, ghoulish smile. “One more sunrise for you both in just a few hours. And then, when the light is wholly eclipsed by the dark, I will be free to rise.”

Tag List

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

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@stoneyggirl2 @fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe

[dragonblobz]

The Desert Pt 7

Hours pass. At first, with me holding the harness around me, wishing I could hug him. Then, with me leaning the seat back. But I’ve slept enough. I just CAN’T anymore.

I drain the last drops from my Fiji. Stare at the big empty bottle. Crap. I’ll have to get more soon.

My ghost robot, possibly alien car has fallen into silence. Comfortable for HIM maybe. My butt cheeks feel smooshed and I’d KILL for a stretch. And a burger actually……

The scenery around us gradually begins to change. Dessert, and then not. And then I spy the mother of all resources. A sign promising a gas station in 5 miles.

“Hey. Psssst.”

“Yes?”

He answers so quickly. I forget my boredom and smile again.

“I gotta pee, Brobot.”

“You’ve gotta…… what??”

I start to hiss giggle.

“I gotte pee. Loose the damn. Pop a mighty wizz. Knock the pissa.”

Just silence. And that purring engine. I groan and laugh.

“I have to put the water I drank earlier INTO something now.”

“Oh dear Primus….” He sounds so disgusted. Luckily for him, I have zero grasp on modesty. At least he gets it. I think???

“There’s a rest stop ahead. I can pee there. And also get more water and food.”

“Water and food? Ah yes, nourishment. But I’m not sure you should be around others of your kind. No one can know of mine.”

I scowl. It makes my tender face hurt.

“I VOLUNTEERED to be here, Christine. You think I’m gonna go in there and be like…”

I wave my hands around my face and squawk.

“OHMYGOD SAVE ME I’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED BY A VERY COOL ROBOT GHOST CAR THAT I’D PREFER NOT TO BE PARTED FROM BLAH BLAH BLAH. ALSO HE MIGHT BE AN ALIEN.”

“Oh shut up. We’ll stop.” He sounds SO grumpy. I try my best to hug the harness around me.

“Thanks. Thank you!”

We’re going so fast. It’s only about a minute before I see a big brightly lit building ahead. One of those big industrial gas stations. The ones with the walk in booze cooler.

“There!”

I can FEEL him huff around me just as much as hear it. And I giggle and rub my hands on his steering wheel. It’s the only form of affection I can think of to share.

We slow and pull in. I wonder what the people inside must think. Two cars worth well over 2 million dollars apiece just tooting in. It’s not like we’re anywhere near Vegas anymore.

“You’ve got five kilicks before I come in there after you….” An impatient growl around me as the driver’s side door glides open.

“I dunno about kin licks, bruh. But give me 10 minutes.” I’m just laughing as I unbuckle myself from the harness and grab my pack. Thinking about how much everyone inside would shit themselves at a giant robot peeling off the roof like “I’m looking for the annoying one. You seen it?”

I trudge to the building, aware of how much cooler the air feels now. How less dry it feels. And there’s trees all around. It’s CRAZY how far you get going as fast as we were.

There’s not many people inside, but man are they staring at me. At my friends outside. I feel an odd sort of nervousness. I might have needs, but I’d MEANT it when I’d said I’d never say a word. I’d better hurry.

I begin in the large restroom. It’s quiet and empty. Just the muted muffled sound of modern country music wafting thru the whole place.

After doing my business I go to the sink and discover WHY I’d been stared at when I look in the mirror.

Geez. My entire FACE is bruised. Still remnants of dried blood around my nostrils. And my hair looks like two birds have been fucking in it.

I wash my hands and then do the same for my face. Faucet all short and automated and just plain awkward to work with. Using the paper hand wipes instead of the blower to dry. Gently pressing at my face.

No. Nothing broken. But it’s still tender and looks hideous. I use the pick from my pack to tug at my snarled hair as best as I can.

When I exit the restroom, I zoom around the isles. Grabbing up as much as I can. Three more big Fijis. Jerky. And a mouthwatering cheeseburger spinning around in a heated display. Shitty and flappy and no condiments or veggies, and I can’t WAIT to shove the entire thing into my mouth.

On my way to the register, I spy something that makes me stop and grin. Arms all full.

I snatch it up and paw thru the rest of objects like it, looking for another color.

I’m in the car isle. And I’m giddily splurging on my new friends.

I plop the biggest insane armfull of crap in front of the cashier. And he’s looking at me like I might have just escaped from some truly unsavory prison or something, but he starts ringing up all my stuff.

“You okay?” He’s bug eyed. And so I think up a lie and I think it up quick.

“You’ve seen Hangover, right?”

I brandish my pointer finger at the two ridiculous Lamborghinis outside the big sparkling windows.

“I’m rich. I’m dumb. And my friend wants his…..” my eyes flail around my pile of crap.

“… his Tijuana Mama okay??”

I’m well aware of my complete inability to properly socialize. But I’m still COMPLETELY unprepared for this man going from nosey shock to bland disinterest so quickly.

“Alright then.” It’s like he doesn’t even care now???

Lamborghinis are wasted on the rich, I decide. It’s like a free ticket to looking INSANE. I have been ROBBED by my birthright.

I’m grinning at the man as he finishes. He looks so bored now.

“Keep the change.” I say as I collect my debit card from him, every bit aware that there’s no change with this method of payment. And I’m chuckling like a demon imp as I stuff all my crap into my pack. Still chuckling as I exit the building.

“You were dawdling.” Sunstreaker’s voice is an impatient growl as I approach him. He’s kept his drivers side door open this whole time.

“I have a Lamborghini. I do what I want.” I’m giggling as I plop inside of him again and start untangling the harness to fasten around me.

He huffs, his door gliding closed. I hiss with laughter. But…. He doesn’t argue. I fully expect him to….. but he doesn’t. My laughter dies into chortles and then into happy silence.

We leave the gas station. Engine just that nice rumbling purr.

“Hey. Once we get outta sight of this place, pull over.”

“Why…..” He sounds so suspicious. I grin.

“Because I got you presents.”

“Presents?”

He sounds even MORE suspicious.

“Oh yes.” I start giggling again.

He doesn’t respond, and I half expect him to have no response. To just keep going.

But…. We pull over just a few miles down the road.

“I’ve stopped. And you will tell me why.” His voice rumbles in grump around me as I unbuckle myself from the harness.

“Just open up!” I’m so excited. Grabbing my bulging pack as he complies, drivers door gliding open.

“Sideswipe!” I’m SO excited. Hearing a beep. The red Lambo flicks it’s headlights at me behind us.

“You’re bouncing, little buddy. You okay?”

“Oh yes! Just…. Open up! I got something for you!”

I wait impatiently for that drivers door to glide open, then plop my butt in the seat like I own the place.

His charming chuckle bubbles all around me.

“For me?”

“Uh huh!” I dig out the obnoxious pair of bright red fuzzy dice from my pack. And drape it over his rear view mirror.

“One more thing….” I pull the next object out. A little Hawaiian hula lady bobble head. Rip the paper from her base and plop her sticky feet on his dash, giggling madly.

“Do sumthin to wiggle her!”

I jerk as his engine screams under my butt. He’s not moving, but the jolt makes her little head shake. I screech gleefully and clap my hands. Lean forward and kiss the center of his steering wheel impulsively.

“Are you accessorizing me, little buddy?” I can feel and hear him chuckling around me. And I’m laughing too.

“I couldn’t help it. It’s just too cute!”

“You’d better have gotten Sunny something.” More chuckles, these decidedly more wicked sounding. And when I look out the open door, I only see a yellow Lamborghini. But the GRUMP is tangible in the air. I snort and giggle.

“You know I did!”

I exit the red Lambo, and the other car is silent. No purring engine. I’m blushing and I don’t know why.

“Did you think I’d forget about you?”

No response, but that drivers door remains open. I settle inside and start hissing with laughter as I start buckling myself in and the door closes. Engine roaring to life.

We begin moving on the highway. It’s like I can feel him deliberately ignoring me. And I’m just grinning. I just CAN’T be upset. He’s so obviously jealous.

I don’t bother to placate or speak. I just pull the bright yellow fuzzy dice out of my pack and drap them over his rear view mirror. Just smiling so largely.

“Well? Where’s my other thing?” He sounds so butthurt. And I’m just laughing for a few moments before I blush again and fall silent.

“Well… I didn’t get you a bobble head….”

I can FEEL the judgement around me. And I’m blushing too hard to do anything but clasp the last gift out of my pack.

“I don’t need anything from you.”

It does sting. I can admit it. And I’m very quiet while I rip open the scented cardboard tree. Just loop it around his rear view mirror with the fuzzy dice. And then just cling to my harness and wait for him to say more mean things.

But he doesn’t say anything. Just that purring engine beneath me. Long enough for me to nervously explain myself.

“Rose Thorn. It’s…. It’s my favorite scent from this brand. It’s really nice…”

“You’re favorite scent?” He sounds thoughtful. I blush even harder. Feeling so self conscious.

“Yes. I…. I like it a lot….”

“Then I like it as well.” Nothing else. Just the sound of that engine purring around me. All stark and sincere. And I start to smile again, still blushing.

I don’t say anything else. Just blush and turn my head to stare out the window.

We’re in trees now. Forest scrub. I have NO idea where we’re going. And I don’t really care. I’m happy right where I am.

“Hey….”

“Yes?” His voice has that same softness from before.

“You don’t have a radio?”

“A radio? I can. Do you want one?”

I hear the sounds of mechanical warping. Turn my head to watch his naked console morph into……

“Oh my god…” I start giggling. Just looking at the fancy digital stereo system that’s just…. There now.

“You’re wanting music, yes?” and music curls around me inside this car. Muted and low. And I’m snort giggling like a heathen.

“You don’t like it? I like it….” He sounds SO grumpy.

“Is….. is this….. Journey????” I'm just wheezing.

“Well. What do YOU want to hear?” Oh he’s mad. I ignore him. Giggling for a few more moments, and then humming to the song before I answer.

“Naw. I like Journey.” I chortle again and then start to sing quietly. And he doesn’t say anything else. Not for the whole song. Like he’s just listening to my idiot quiet singing.

I’m just smiling and singing and so happy. Who’d have ever thought I’d be singing Wheel In The Sky in a fucking ghost car robot alien???

The song ends. I become silence. The next song begins. I giggle.

“Led Zeppelin??”

“I haven’t heard you tell me what you want to hear.” So so grumpy. I’m just grinning. Pulling that crappy gas station cheese burger out to gobble it down. Finishing it with a huge swig of fresh cold Fiji water.

A honking noise makes me jerk my head as I’m wiping my face and hands with a wrinkled napkin. Sideswipe behind us. Flashing his lights and laying into his horn.

“We’ve got company.” Sunstreaker doesn’t sound worried. He sounds…. Resigned.

I notice another vehicle now. In that mirror outside the window. Another red one. A big cherry red van?

I feel the entire Lamborghini huff around me.

“It’s Ironhide. Act natural.” He sounds so annoyed. And I can’t help but laugh.

“Oh yeah. Sure. Natural. Is he…..” the slight prickles of nervousness. Ironhide. ANOTHER one of them, I can only assume.

“You’re safe.” It’s a final sound. Not necessarily reassurance. But it makes me feel like I don’t have to worry. But I’m still worrying.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to make trouble.” I feel terrible now. That van is right next to us. Like it’s accompanying us. Or WATCHING us.

“You’re no trouble…” It’s another new tone from him. Protective.

“Okay.” It’s a little nervous croak. And curious. I feel like something big and new is about to happen. I’m just gawping at this big red van cruising next to us.

I hear Sideswipe now. It’s like Sunstreaker is letting him talk again.

“Aw don’t mind Ironhide. He’s a pussy cat.” And that confident chuckle. And it DOES make me feel just a little bit less guilty.

“You just sit tight, little buddy. You’re gonna talk to Prime. Everything is gonna be okay.”

I see the trees around us. Spot a hulk of metal nestled in the side of a mountain ahead of us. It’s enormous. And the road we’re on is care worn gravel. It feels like a SECRET.

“O… Okay….” I feel so oddly nervous. Just cling to this harness around my body.

And it’s Sunstreaker’s voice now. Firm and confident and gentle. And it makes me feel safe.

“I’ll be there the entire time. I won’t leave you.”

Safe. It feels…. Safe….

[spinebuster]

It's been requested so here it is: my gif tutorial! I hope to make this very simple as I've made gif making very simple for myself with the help of .atn made by myself and others. More under the cut!

First, what you'll need.

Photoshop (here's a link to a masterlist of free photoshop resources from birdysources)

KMPlayer, to get your screencaps.

These PS actions. (My gifmaking one, and this sharpening action from insomniacgifs.)

Some understanding of how to color gifs (I'll be linking my psd shown here, as well as including the process of making one.)

Next, how to get the videos that you want to gif.

I personally source my videos from Youtube, Twitter, and streaming services. (Firefox browser is your best friend, as it doesn't black out the screen that some services have.) If a Youtube Video Downloader isn't working, or if I'm capturing my own footage, I use the Xbox Game Bar's recording feature (windows + alt + r) to capture footage. There's also applications like OBS Studio. For Twitter, I use twittervideodownloader.com

Now, making the gif.

I use Photoshop CC 2018, but any PS with a timeline will work. But first, we gotta take our screencaps. Open your video in KMPlayer, and press alt+v. This will open up this second screen

These are my settings, with an easily accessible folder that I save my frames to. Find the scene you want to clip, and hit start & play your video, then stop when you have the frames you want.

Next up we're going to open up Photoshop. I changed my keyboard shortcuts so all I've got to do is hit ctrl+alt+o, but for you guys, you gotta go to File -> Scripts -> Load Files Into Stack

Select your screencaps of the scene you want to gif. Now that Tumblr allows gifs up to 10MB, the amount of caps you want is totally up to you. I stick to around 45-50, but sometimes there's a scene I need that's up to 150+ caps, and it still fits under the size limit. It all depends on the dimensions and coloring of your gif. I'm loading up 51 frames as the sharpening .atn deletes the final frame of your gif once it reverts back to frames, so I'll have an even 50 framed gif.

Your PS should look like this. Here comes the gif making itself. You want to hit Create Frame Animation at the bottom, where your timeline is. If your timeline isn't already open, click your Window tab up top, and find timeline in the dropdown.

After you hit Create Frame Animation, you want to Make Frames From Layers, which you'll find when you click the three lines on your timeline.

Then, reverse your frames.

Finally, Select All Frames, click the arrow on the frames, and change the frame delay to .06 seconds.

Way to go! You've made a gif! Now, if you're like me, you'll get tired of having to do that over & over when making a gifset. So, I recorded and uploaded an .atn, which means all you gotta do is load up your frames, hit play on the .atn, and your gif is good to go. I'll link it again so you don't have to lose your place in the tutorial.

So you've made your gif, now what? Now we crop, sharpen, color, and save for the web. Let's get to it.

Tumblr dimensions can be tricky, but they're easy to remember. (I even made a little graphic for it!)

For my tutorial, my Jamie gif will be 268 x 268 :)

Here is my unsharpened, unedited gif of Jamie Hayter. I believe this clip was snagged from YouTube, but it's been awhile since I saved it. I use insomniacgifs' gif sharpening atn, as I hate manually sharpening gifs. So let us run that real quick. (I'll be using the Strong option. Don't forget to delete the final frame.)

Onto coloring! The example I whipped up for this tutorial is super simple, so let's go!

I typically edit the curves first. I'm not sure why, just something I picked up from my photo journalism class back in HS.

Next, I add a little brightness. (+10)

Then, I mess with Selective Color, just a bit. (Neutrals, Black +10. Blacks, Black +5.)

Now, I don't know exactly what Channel Mixer does, but it's fun. Here's my settings.

Some Saturation (+5)

And lastly, I edit the Color Balance!

Aaaaand here's my final product! I also uploaded this as a PSD for you to save and use yourself!

Once your gif is all done, we need to save it properly. File -> Export -> Save for Web (Legacy). Here are my settings.

Note: Make sure your looping options is set to forever so your gif doesn't loop once and freeze!

And that's it! I hope this helped, and if you have any questions, my ask box is open!

[justwearthegoddamncardigan]

Hi Rin ❤❤ I wanted to request a newt fic with a deaf reader and how he helps introduce them to the maze. I loved aitd and your newt fics are literally feeding my obsession rn thank you so much

Hello thank you so much for the ask!! Hope you like this fic <3

You're my favourite

Newt x deaf! gender neutral!reader

Set during tmr (movieverse) - reader comes right after Chuck, so just before Thomas

Notes: I want to preface this by saying that I myself am not deaf or HOH, and I only know a few basic signs. I've also done a little bit of research regarding how deaf people prefer to be treated and also how some of them can hear certain things. However my representation may not be accurate, so please let me know if anything needs to be changed!

Warnings: canon-typical violence (just Grievers and stuff), language

"Here it comes!" announces one of the boys as the sound of the Box echoes upwards.

There's a clang as it arrives, and Newt steps forward to open it and let the person out.

As he peers in he sees you, back pressed against one of the resource boxes and eyes darting everywhere until they settle on Newt.

"Hey, don't worry. You're safe," he reassures you, sticking his hand out to help you up.

You grab his arm and step out onto the grass, turning in a circle to take in the Maze and the grassy plain.

"Welcome to the Glade, Greenie," says Newt from beside you.

You don't acknowledge him, and he assumes you're just overwhelmed, as everyone is when the first arrive.

"Alright, everyone back to their jobs," says Alby, clapping his hands together. "Okay new guy, here's how it goes. Newt's gonna give you the tour, and then over the next few days one of our Keepers 'll pick you for a job."

You're still facing away from Alby and Newt, staring out at the Maze.

"Hey," says Newt, gently touching your shoulder.

You turn to look at them, raising your eyebrows.

Newt and Alby exchange a glance. So far everyone in the Glade has spoken the same language. Maybe the Creators sent up someone who doesn't?

"Can you understand me?" asks Newt.

At your nod, he continues. "Right, so as Alby was saying earlier, I'm gonna do a tour, and-" he stops when you shake your head.

"I'm deaf," you sign. The sign is pretty self-explanatory, and you assume they'll get it. ...Apparently not.

They stare at you with confused expressions, and you huff out an exasperated breath. You point at your ears and shake your head.

"You can't hear," realises Newt.

You nod and sign "yes".

"Is that 'yes'?" he asks.

You smile and sign "yes" again.

"But you can understand us?" asks Alby.

You start signing for a second, then pause, frown, and look around for something. Then you make a writing motion. "They wanna write," says Newt. "The Map room."

"Oi, Alby!" someone calls.

"Shuck, I gotta go," says Alby. "Can you...?"

"Yeah, all good," responds Newt.

"Here, uh... follow me," says Newt, gesturing for you to come.

"So, you can lipread?" he asks, walking backwards so he can face you.

"Yes," you sign.

"And you can't speak?"

Your hands raise slightly, then drop. You mime writing again.

"Right." Newt nods and turns as you reach a hut. He opens the door and you follow him in.

"Hey Newt, what's up. Oh, hi Greenie."

"They're deaf," says Newt, rifling through the supplies for a pencil. "You have to face them so they can lipread."

You wave at the guy as he turns to you.

"Hey, I'm Minho," he says, giving you a grin.

Mino? You mouth, frowning slightly.

"Hang on," says the guy, turning to Newt.

"Here." Newt hands you a pencil and a piece of paper.

Names? You write, giving the paper back to Newt.

He writes Newt and points to himself, then Minho and points to him. Then he adds Alby and says "the guy from earlier".

You nod, and write My name?

"Oh, don't worry," reassures Newt. "It'll come back to you within a day or two. That's the one thing they let us keep."

"I see," you sign with one hand.

"Is that like... you get it?" asks Newt, gesturing at the hand you just signed with.

You give him a thumbs up, with a grin.

He huffs out a laugh and nods.

"What about speaking?" asks Newt, recalling what you wanted to write earlier.

You take back the paper and write I can, but I usually choose not to.

He nods. "That's all good. Alright, we better get going."

For the rest of the afternoon, Newt tours you around the Glade, explaining each of the jobs. You write down your questions and use understanding signs like "yes", and "I see", since they'll make sense even for people who don't know sign language.

Later, as the sky starts to darken, you hear a faint rumbling sound, accompanied by vibrations in the ground that you can feel all the way up to your chest.

You grab Newt's arm to get his attention, giving him a scared look.

What's that? you write quickly, pencil scribbling across the paper.

"You can hear that?" asks Newt, surprised.

"Yes, a little bit," you sign, hoping he'll understand.

"The Maze is closing," he explains, pointing to the walls.

You turn to look and see the massive walls slowly shutting. When they've closed, the rumbling in your chest stops.

When you turn back to Newt he's already talking again.

"Sorry, again?" you sign, raising your eyebrows.

"Oh, right. I forgot, sorry," he scrubs the back of his neck with a hand and sends you an apologetic look.

"It's okay," you sign. "Continue." You add a general 'continue' gesture when he doesn't get the sign.

"I was just saying that we should get to the bonfire soon," he says, pointing to where the other Gladers have started to gather.

"Let's go," you sign.

When it gets dark, you grab some food and go to sit beside Newt near the fire. He gives you a grin and starts pointing out each little group gathered around the bonfire.

You try to understand and laugh along as he cracks jokes about the people from different jobs, but it's hard to read lips in the dim firelight. Plus, it's been a pretty long day, and lipreading is really tiring.

You tap his shoulder and gesture to the notebook you've kept with you.

Can't lipread, too dark. Sorry.

You add a sad face after the 'sorry'.

Also don't always like crowds. I can hear but it's weird. Like it's just a lot of noise, no words or clear sounds. It's a little overwhelming. Sorry again.

His eyes flick up to yours when he finishes reading, and he shakes his head. He hesitates, then signs "it's okay" with an uncertain expression.

Your face splits into a wide grin and you let out a laugh, clasping his hands and squeezing them in a sort of yay motion that isn't a really sign but just conveying how you feel. It's just a simple sign, but it's still something.

He smiles with you and stands, gesturing for you to follow him. You leave the bonfire area and end up in the Homestead. There are torches lit with fire, and he pulls out an electrical flashlight too, clicking it on.

"This okay? You can understand me?" asks Newt.

You nod and give him a thumbs up.

Newt holds up a pack of cards. "Sometimes if we ask for stuff the Creators put it in the Box for the next month. I wonder if we can ask for a sign language booklet, like the herb book the Medjacks have..." he says thoughtfully.

You smile to yourself at his immediate willingness to learn sign. It's not an easy task to take up a whole new language.

"Anyway, we asked for games once, and surprisingly it worked. Wanna play?"

You smile, signing "yes".

You end up playing a bunch of different games throughout the night, both of you content with missing the party outside.

After you win your fourth game of Speed, with Newt rolling his eyes at your victorious grin, he starts tapping the table, looking at you in thought.

Then he leans forward. "Teach me sign."

You raise your eyebrows, then smile and agree. You grab your pencil as he packs the cards away.

Alphabet first, you write. And basic signs.

Teaching sign is slow, and you can feel yourself getting tired as the time passes.

In your peripheral vision, you see the Homestead door open, and you turn to look as Alby walks in.

"Oh, hey guys," he says. You can tell he's a little drunk from the messy way the words form. "You're still awake? Most of the guys are heading off now."

"Yeah, we better be getting to bed too," says Newt, facing you so you can understand him.

He walks you to where your hammock has been set up next to Chuck, who's already asleep.

Newt taps your arm before leaving. "Good night," he signs, with a smile lit by a nearby torch.

"Night," you respond. You reach out and pull him back as he turns to go. "Thank you," you sign.

He nods and steps away. He pauses a bit, looking at you in the dark, but then moves off to his own hammock.

⭒----⭒

You become a Runner. It's hard to convince Minho at first, cause he's worried you won't hear when the Maze is shifting, but you manage to show that the vibrations are more than reliable, and you can also hear the faint rumbling.

You get your name back on your second night, and you run to Newt as soon as you realise.

He's in the gardens with Zart, with the rest of the Gladers at dinner. There's no one near you can tap to ask them to call for Newt.

Screw it. "Newt!" you yell, waving excitedly.

His eyes snap up the moment he hears your voice. He says something to Zart before starting up the hill towards you.

You meet him halfway and throw your arms around him in a quick hug.

He blinks at you for a second, then fumbles to sign "What happened?"

"My name," you sign with a grin, hands flying. You spell it out. " Y/n."

His face breaks into a smile. "Y/n." You laugh as he repeats your name over and over, signing it too; in letters.

You tell Minho too, before your morning run. He grins at you, before signing "Not a Greenie anymore." The two of you had made up a sign for 'Greenie' the previous day.

Minho actually picked up sign really quick; like insanely fast. You think he might have some sort of photographic memory, or maybe just that he's strengthened his memory by working in the Maze.

Either way, it's great for you cause it'd be hard to bring out the notebook during a run.

You also notice that Newt's getting pretty good at sign, and he seems to know words that you haven't even taught him yet.

Unbeknownst to you, Newt's actually been taking lessons from Minho on top of what he learns from you. It had gone something like this:

"Come on, help me out. I'm falling behind mate. How are you getting it so fast?" Newt had just seen you and Minho having a full conversation in sign.

"Fine, fine, here's how to say 'I have a crush on you', " responded Minho with a grin.

"Oi, slim it," said Newt, pushing away Minho's raised hands. "Wait... why'd they teach you that?"

"I'm just messing with you man, I've got no clue how to say that. You'll have to ask them."

"No! It's not like that, I-"

"Then why were you asking?" asked Minho with a smirk.

"... shut up"

"Want me to finish your part?" asks Newt, hands signing confidently.

The Runners are remaking the Map sections out of sticks, and after a few hours your fingers are getting sore and stiff from building your section.

"Are you sure?" you sign.

"Just tell me the directions," he replies, pulling the sticks closer.

"Saviour," you sign, giving him a grateful smile. You point at him and then add another sign.

"What does that mean?" he asks.

You spell out saviour, then repeat the sign for it after.

He huffs out a laugh. "What about the one after?"

"You're my-" you spell out the word favourite, and then the proper sign. "You're my favourite."

He ducks his head, smiling.

You watch as he clears his throat, and gestures to you. "Directions?"

You flop back in your chair, head tipped back and signing without looking. "Left path at the next corner, but sometimes the Maze will shift and close it. So make another path to the right."

He nods and gives an "okay" sign.

You lift your head. "Wait, I didn't teach you directions, or any of those words really."

He bites his lip and... blushes?

"Fast learner," he signs quickly, looking away.

Then he looks behind you with a glare.

You turn to see what he's looking at and see Minho laughing from where he's working on his section.

You throw a stick at Minho to get his attention. He raises his hands, clearly trying to think of cursing signs, and just gives you the finger instead.

"What did you say?" you sign.

"I said-" he gives you the finger again.

You roll your eyes. "Just then, to Newt."

He shrugs and tosses the stick back at you.

You let out a frustrated huff and turn around, deciding to just forget it.

⭒----⭒

Soon a month had passed and the Box is comes up again.

Thomas quite literally tumbled headfirst into the Glade, and you meet him as Newt tours him around.

There's a little bitter feeling in your chest when you realise that Newt's kindness and affection towards you is probably just how he treats all the Greenies.

But you shake that feeling off, cause it's unfair, and there's no reason for Newt to look at you differently. There's no reason for you to want him to look at you differently.

You're running with Minho and Alby one afternoon, investigating a dead Griever Minho found.

You've split up, and you're just exploring your section when you suddenly feel thundering vibrations in the floor. A Griever?

You flick your gaze around, alarmed and scared.

You start running towards the meetup point and skid to a halt as you see Minho struggling to drag Alby.

"Minho!" you shout, forgoing signing for now.

"He's been Stung," pants Minho, looking up so you can lipread.

You duck under Alby's other arm and help Minho as you all stagger towards the home route.

The ground starts rumbling nearby.

You turn to Minho worriedly, and catch his mutter of "shit" as the wall at the end of your path starts to close.

His mouth moves fast and unintelligibly as he lets out what is probably a string of curses.

"Backup route," he signs messily with one hand, the other arm still gripping Alby.

You can hear so many walls shifting, telling you the final doors are about to close.

The noises thunder in your ears and you grit your teeth against the grating sounds, until you catch sight of the opening.

You see the Gladers are yelling and waving, and you zero in on Newt.

Come on, you tell yourself. But the walls are already closing. At the last second, Thomas sprints through, and the rumbling in the ground vanishes as the Maze shuts.

You collapse over, breathing heavily as you and Minho let Alby drop down. Minho turns to Thomas, saying something that you don't even bother trying to read.

It's over.

⭒----⭒

On the other side, Newt realised what Thomas was about to do a split second after he was already squeezing into the walls.

Then the walls slide shut with a final boom, locking out the people he loves most.

Newt falls to his knees at the walls, lifting a fist to slam into the stone before resting his forehead on it, breathing shakily.

"Newt." It's Chuck, reaching out a hesitant hand to place on Newt's shoulder.

"Chuck, just-" his voice is ragged, and he can already feel the salt streaming down his cheeks.

"Hey, Chuck." Frypan's voice speaks softly from somewhere on Newt's left. "Just give 'im some time."

Newt stays at the wall, frozen with his head bowed against the stone until Gally comes and forces him to go to bed.

"You can't do anything for them now."

He almost punches Gally.

⭒----⭒

The group gets split when a Griever arrives.

Thomas stays to try and pull Alby up, and you and Minho are separated when a wall slides between you.

So you're on your own.

You keep moving for what feels like at least a few hours. The Maze shifting patterns at night are different to how they are in the day, so you just try to map out your general area and direction in your head.

You shut down every part of your mind except the part that's focused on mapping and feeling for the Grievers' footsteps.

Your heart stops in your chest when you come across a Griever. Or... what used to be one. What the fuck?

It's completely squashed, remains spattered grossly across the ground and the walls on either side.

Thomas, you realise. Smart shank. He killed a Griever. Killed it.

You step tentatively closer, wincing at the sludge-y substance. You lean in to inspect a large mechanical piece of the Griever.

Okay. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself. This is gonna work.

You quickly drag some metallic pieces together to create a makeshift box big enough to fit in. You're gonna hide out for the night.

⭒----⭒

A rumbling wall wakes you up. Shuck, you didn't mean to fall asleep.

You peek out of your little spot and see daylight streaming into the Maze. Holy shit, you made it.

If it's morning, the walls should be shifting in the patterns you know.

You scramble up and start looking around, picturing the map in your mind.

⭒----⭒

The Maze doors open before you wake up.

"Told you Chuck, they're not coming back."

Any hope Newt had dies when the doors open and reveal the emptiness behind them.

The Runners will send out a scout team soon, but they won't be looking for living people. Newt's about to be sick.

"There!" shouts Chuck.

Newt's heartrate skyrockets as he sees Minho and Thomas, dragging Alby between them. Please, please.

He meets them at the entrance as the Medjacks pull Alby to the medical hut, and Newt yanks Minho into a tight hug.

"I thought you were dead," he says, hugging Thomas too.

As he pulls away from Thomas, he looks behind the two of them, and sees no one.

Newt swallows. "Where's Y/n?" he gazes at Minho desperately.

"We- we got split up at the start of the night. I'm sorry, Newt," says Minho, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.

"No. Find them. They're alive." He pushes past Minho to walk straight into the Maze himself, only to be pulled back.

"Newt."

"Minho." He stares defiantly at Minho.

Minho sighs. "Look, I know. Just... give us a minute. We've been running from Grievers the whole night. We'll go soon."

⭒----⭒

They leave within half an hour, with Newt insisting that he come too. He steps foot in the Maze for the first time in... a long time.

"Y/n!" calls Thomas.

"They're deaf," snaps Newt. "That's not gonna do anything."

Minho gives Newt a warning look, then says "Newt's right, but they can still call for us, so listen out."

"We'll split up here," says Minho at an intersection. "These walls don't change for a bit so we'll be fine."

He sends Thomas down one way and pulls Newt down the other way.

"Newt." Minho stops walking and turns to talk.

"What," says Newt flatly.

"Listen, I'm just gonna be straight with you. I don't think it's good for you to be here."

Newt doesn't respond.

"We both know we're looking for a body," says Minho gently. "You don't wanna see that."

"I know. I just- I have to be here," Newt closes his eyes. "I can't wait back in the Glade for you to come back and tell me they're gone."

Minho shakes his head. "Fine, I can't force you to leave."

"Thank you, Minho," says Newt.

"Hey! Over here!" Thomas' voice calls from his section. Minho and Newt run back to him.

"Y/n was here," says Thomas, pointing to your hiding space.

"Split up. Look for them," orders Minho.

Newt catches his gaze. "Maybe," says Minho, hope sparking.

As he turns the corner, Newt hears a yell. It's you. You're calling for Minho and Thomas.

"I found them!" shouts Newt behind him, not bothering to wait for the others as he runs to you.

You turn, almost intuitively, and your face breaks into a relieved smile as you see Newt running towards you.

He throws his arms around you, and you can only laugh giddily as you realise you're safe, and it's all okay.

You can feel him shaking against you, and you feel the short puffs of air near your face from the words he probably can't help whispering fervently despite knowing that you can't hear them.

"I'm okay," you sign, reaching out to wipe the tears off his face.

You break away gently as Minho and Thomas appear behind Newt, and you run to them.

After hugging both of them, you turn back to Newt, who's looking at you like you're gonna disappear any second.

"Let's go back," you sign with a soft smile, taking his hand.

Raced my computer battery to finish this fic

I kinda want to write another part to this fic, so that'll be out soon.

Thank you for reading!

Update: Part 2 is now here

[reiverreturns]

bg3 camp/companion features i would give my firstborn for that have little to basically no impact on core story gameplay:

side missions to give a special item to every companion a la giving shadowheart a night orchid. my love language is gift giving larian don't deny my love

customisable tents (tav and companions) and purchasable decor/upgrades for camp

idle camp banter between companions based on where the player has been. i want karlach to call astarion a stinky boy after adventuring in the sewers. i want gale to cheerfully inform me he knows twenty spells to get blood and brain matter out of leather when i return from the temple of bhaal. do you get me do you understand my vision

cooking minigame with gale

boo brings you stuff in camp like scratch but instead of a piece of rope or a potion ingredient it's a fuckin two handed greatsword or something

a post/letter function where npcs can send you/your companions messages of thanks or course you for not helping throughout the game (kind of like what we got in the epilogue but i want it throughout. you could also get cryptic puzzles and mission requests! that would be fun!)

wash facilities where tav can actually bathe with a lil cutscene

party function where i can choose to throw a get together as part of a long rest with companions sitting around the fire, mingling, chatting, etc. maybe it costs a load more resources but gives a buff until the next long rest. saving the tieflings wasn't enough for me i require more parties

a passing trading post where i can sell a bunch of shit without having to load the full map to find a shop or merchant. give me less money for the convenience idk my lame ass wizard can only eat so many magical boots the laces will give him indigestion i've gotta offload them somehow

little funerary tributes to companions who are permakilled where their tent used to be. press f to pay respects

mizora having camp gossip dialogue options when you speak to her (PERFECT for inter-companion romances wink wink nudge nudge.) Should also include some narrative pathways that make her leave because the companions are so fucking insufferable

camp resets after a combat in camp (e.g. puddles from create water are gone) and one random character bitches about being on cleaning duty

jaheria/halsin occasionally in wildshape and hanging out with scratch and owlbear

[miles-and-waylon]

A Betrayal of the Worst Kind

Camerashipping and fluff, what could be better?

Miles ‘punishing’ Waylon and Lisa’s of no help.

-

Being on the run and trying to take down a major corrupt corporation with near infinite resources take a toll on a man. Waylon kept his mind away from his stint at Mount Massive by working. Lisa was the one keeping them up on personal maintenance (and driving a majority of the time), Miles handled the execution of dangerous ideas (given the fact he was already dead), and Waylon was the planner.

He was almost always on his laptop, a laptop protected by a motherload of security measures as he’d learned to use after getting caught that first time. He only stopped for long when it came to eating and sleeping, and when one of his partners got fed up and forced a break.

In another cheap motel found on some highway in the middle of nowhere, with Lisa out getting food from the gas station next door, Miles smacked his laptop shut just after he saved his newest project. Before he could even complain, he was laid out across the couch, hips straddled by his dangerous captor.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Waylon tried to protest, squirming as his death-cold grip tugged up his shirt. “Bad time! What if Lisa walks in?”

“I mean, the last time she walked in on us, she seemed quite happy with what she was seeing. Did you really tuck a t-shirt into a pair of sweatpants? You’re such a geek it’s painful.”

Waylon bucked up his hips, kicked his legs, tried to swat away his hands—all to no avail. He proved absolutely terrible in a struggle when his life wasn’t on the line. “Are you judging how I wear pajamas? Are you kidd—“ Miles fingers came in contact with his stomach, nails dragging down against his skin. Immediately, the pinned man turtled into himself.

“I was curious, you know, at our last stop. I brushed up against your side, and you jumped juuust enough for me to notice, and you said that I scared you!”

“Miles—“

“Ah-ah! You said that, but I’ve seen how you startle. That wasn’t it. I’m still a journalist, Way. A bored journalist! When I think I’ve been lied to, that’s when my gears get working.” He wore the most evil grin, contrasting with Waylon’s suddenly wide, terrified eyes. He scribbled slowly, teasingly across exposed flesh. “Did you lie? Did I really startle you?”

“Miles,” he began again, voice wavering. Waylon twisted to press his face into the dusty couch cushion beside him. “Really? A-are you held up on a lit…” He paused to swear. It was the only way to keep a giggle from getting out right then. “…little thing like that? I don’t even remember it!” Journalist or not, who would realistically be able to tell a startled flinch from having sensitive sides?

“Well, honestly, I only remembered it because I basically have nothing to do right now. Doesn’t change that you lied. You lied, and you’ve been neglecting me. I think that’s worthy of a little punishment, don’t you?” Then he found those sensitive sides to attack in earnest.

“Wait! Wait, wait—!” God, then the *buzzing* started. There was no point trying to resist after that. His brief exposure to the engine was still enough to make poor Waylon more receptive to sensing the Walrider’s presence, and he’d be damned if the sudden hum of nanites against his body wasn’t an abuse of power! He broke out into sweet, bubbly laughter, unsure if he should try to protect himself or keep trying to push him away.

Then came a glimmer of hope.

Lisa came through the door right then, plastic bags full of food and much-needed toiletries hanging from her arms. She quickly realized she arrived to a scene of chaos. Her expression turned into curiosity and bemusement.

“Lisa!” Waylon gasped. He threw his arm out towards her in a pleading gesture. “Lisa, help me! Please!”

To his horror, as she realized what was going on, her look twisted into a traitorous smile. “You gotta go lower,” she advised. “Get his hips. He can’t take it. It’s adorable.”

Was this the woman he married? One so willing to throw him under the bus like that? His shock was interrupted by Miles gleefully following her instructions. Laughter turned to mirthful, unmanly squeaks and squeals echoing across the walls of the room.

“Let me put away what I got for us, then I’ll come help.” She better mean help him! “It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten to see him like this.” Apparently not.

He was doomed.

[styrmwb]

I Beat Lightning Returns: Final Fantasy XIII

I went ahead and I did it

The urge to go ahead and finish the XIII trilogy after beating XIII-2 won out, and I can finally say I cleared this off the ultimate list of FF games.

Lightning Returns is an interesting one. It's a slow burn kind of game; it took me a bit to really lock in with it, but once I did, I got into a nice flow state with it. It's also a game that simultaneously could work very well by itself, but also feels like it's essential to be the act 2 of XIII-2. It's weird. Not bad! But weird.

Day 1: Gameplay

I think this is where LR shines the brightest.

Combat is. ALMOST like its predecessors. Rather than it being menu selection, you're pressing buttons like an action game; and rather than swapping paradigms, you're swapping between 3 "schemata", which are basically customizable job types that are also a dress-up minigame. You also still have an ATB system... kinda. Rather than a bar that fills up and executes all of the commands you put into it, it's more like an action meter. You can do so much in each schemata before you run out and you gotta wait for it to refill. On paper it sounds entirely different, but with the ATB filling and the schemata switching, I still felt that echo of paradigm switching (especially since I essentially gave myself a commando, ravager, saboteur setup), and the ATB in practice still felt like the ATB of classic. It's different for sure, but still has enough connection to not feel like it's a complete jump away from its prequels. Also, you have these points called "EP" that you get from day start or killing enemies which you can use for things like full cure or esuna, but the big thing I used it for was "Overclock" which slows down time for your enemies while speeding it up for you. It gives you a unique ATB bar that I essentially used to keep up my assault when needed. Very fun once I had enough EP to not worry about using it all up.

Where XIII was a straightforward, classic RPG story that had some side quests, and XIII-2 was more side quest heavy but still sectioned, LR feels like it's ENTIRELY made of side quests, in a way. Even the main story is split up into quests that sometimes require you to do side quests (which was weird if you gotta do them why are they side), plus it had a board of collection quests that you could turn into. If you just looked at XIII, you'd be like "what the fuck happened", but going through the trilogy, I can feel the natural progression. As someone who enjoyed the XIII-2 style quests (plus I'm MMO brained so quests are ingrained in my DNA anyways) I quite enjoyed this style of game organization. It allows you to move back and forth between the areas and their stories, which mixes really well with:

Time management. The big deal about this game that I think MOST people look at and think "oh no". I also thought "oh no" at first. There's not exactly a Majora's Mask style time reset or anything (which I gotta talk more on this topic later) and you don't really have time to sit and rest unless you're in a menu, meaning every single step counts, but it does give you a temporary time stop ability, that uses the same resource as your big combat abilities. I was really unsure of it at first, I didn't know how to handle it, but once I really got the hang of things, I realized that I didn't need to time stop nearly as much as I did, and I was able to strike a good balance. Like I said, I found the flow state of managing quests, travel, teleportation, and still leaving myself with enough for combat buffs. As time passes, different enemies come out, different NPCs appear and disappear, different stores open and close, it makes you think about where you have to be, when you have to be where, and you have to think about your travel time. There's a quest I have to do but they don't appear until 14:00, so I'm gonna sit here and kill guys until like 13:00 where I'm then gonna take the train over there. It was scary and weird at first, but it's a system that I think is improved with knowledge of just how much is in the game.

One last thing I wanted to talk about, is Undertale. This game has a fucking Undertale genocide mechanic (I know Undertale came after but hush shush). There are actually limited enemies in the game (save for a couple), and you can actually completely extinct a species by killing all of them. When you've killed all but one, that one becomes a Last One, which is a hyperpowered hot pink version of that enemy that drops better loot. This also interacts with time management well because as the days go by, enemies drop better abilities for you to use, BUT, you also have to make sure you're giving yourself enough time to do shit AND kill all of everything. This is cool! It's also grindy, which does kinda suck. Having to kill 30 reavers (behemoths) gets mindless after a bit, which CAN be enjoyed, but can also be ugggghhhhhhh. I think I felt both of those emotions. This is at its worst in the final dungeon where there's 3 new monster types that can be killed off, meaning if you wanna kill all of em for the quest that makes you kill all of em, you HAVE to last second grind. Stinks when I just wanna finish the story.

Together, Lightning Returns offers an experience that's actually quite fun, but I think you REALLY HAVE to have the knowledge to make the most of it. It gives me the vibes of something that would be better on subsequent playthroughs, where you really know just how much is in this space.

Day 2: Story

The story this time about is weird. After the world Fucking Explodes in XIII-2, and Lightning turns herself into crystal to have Serah live forever in her memories, she's woken up (numbers) years later by God Himself, who said "hey shit's boutta explode in a few days can you go save a bunch of souls so I can put them in a new world I have your best friend here (he's a kid again don't worry about it) and I'll give you your sister back" and then Lightning goes "ok (unfeelingly)" and does it. Rather than a single focused story, it's split up into 5 main quests you can move back and forth between, all centered around a character from previous games. You got Noel, Snow, Fang, Yeul/Caius/Odin, and Sazh. Between these, and the many side quests, the game is very character based rather than narrative based, I feel, which I certainly don't have a problem with. Characters, I'm coming to realize, are my absolute favorite part of any media and the most important thing to me ever (which I think is why I end up making 20 hour long character sections (coming soon)). As you help people and your friends, you realize God is A Bitch And A Liar, so you go to Kill Him. This culminates in an ending that is 1. INCREDIBLY CHEESY, 2. A nice little celebration of the entire XIII trilogy, and 3. A little stupid. It's nice. It's not the greatest in the series or even the trilogy, but it's nice. Again, it feels like it's the second half to XIII-2, wrapping up everything that that game set up, which stinks a little cause it means it can't hold on its own well, but is nice when you're doing it in sequence.

Day 3: Characters

I've lived with this cast for 3 games now, and LR is, for the most part, a nice bow on everyone's stories/a cool way to take all their characters.

Lightning - Lightning in this game felt more of what I knew than XIII-2. Unfortunately, a major plot point was that her emotions were essentially stripped away for most of it, but it didn't stop the game from showing me her caring about her family and other people, and despite her being God's Servant, it does not prevent her from rebelling against the higher powers when they're being assholes, just like in the original XIII. She's not my favorite protagonist out of the entire series, but I think LR ended her story in a way that made me a lot happier than XIII-2. I also find it really funny that Square's IRL usage of her as a fashion model seriously had its impact on this game with the garb switching, and the fucking ending of her going to France.

Hope - My favorite boy felt off at first. Why was his voice acting like that? The reason? God is a bitch. My boy was relegated to being a child sized costume for a motherfucker; and unfortunately, this half self of him kinda got on my nerves as he Kept Telling Me Things All The Time. I know it's an hour until I get called back. Please stop. At least I can be happy about the fact that the real Hope was actually the force that helped Lightning at the end, right as she helped him. I love the relationship between the two of them, one of my favorites in the series.

Snow - I genuinely think that his role here was NEEDED for his character to go into. For two games, he's been the extreme positive force. A heart of gold and a brain of brick. Challenging this with the failure to protect the one person he loves the most, plus centuries of stagnation and trauma, pushes Snow in a way that I think was really important. I can't say I LOVED seeing him so despondent, but I do think it was the right play. Seeing him at his lowest, yet still coming out on top, and finally, FINALLY, being rewarded with time with Serah, Snow feels like he actually went through the challenge he needed to get the ending he deserved.

Fang - I actually really enjoyed Fang here, because for most of the game, it was between Fang and Lightning. I will say, Vanille is not one of my favorite characters. At all; and unfortunately, Fang's primary character trait is that she is completely devoted to the one person she loves (you CANNOT tell me that this shit isn't romantic), Vanille. This is a good character trait, I just don't care for how it's aimed. But being able to enjoy Fang and Lightning's friendship, as well as Fang starting that fire of rebellion that I loved in XIII, it made me happy. I don't understand your crush girl but go off

Vanille - Going off that point; I understand Vanille. I really do. She feels like she did a lot of pain and wants to make up for it. I just... I can't. I dunno. The vibes are off for me. I think I could have appreciated a little more insight or explanation on WHY she has the power to hear the dead, and How Exactly she's going to save them and not kill them.

Sazh and Dajh - Once again thrown to the sidelines?????? Like, ok. I get it. Compared to the fighters, the ancient warriors, Sazh and his son are pretty much civilians! So in that way, I get it, they get the easy life compared to everyone else. But to see Dajh reduced to a plot point yet again upsets me. I want to see some growth for these guys, cause they deserve it. I even feel that Sazh got snubbed in the ending cause he didn't even get to appear alongside his own Eidolon like everyone else did. I love these two, and I love seeing them happy, but... gimme a little more, man.

Odin - Can I just say, it is SO funny that fucking Odin, classic FF summon, insta-killing warrior, majestic horse transformer, reincarnated into a chocobo? Hilarious. I do love that narrative of him being by Lightning's side, though. I think it could have been strengthened back in XIII-2, but it's still nice.

Noel - This poor fucking guy dude. Living with centuries of failure and loss. He never got a chance to really enjoy and be happy; it made me so sad to see him in the place he was in, and to have that fight against him. I am incredibly glad that he finally got to have an ending with Yeul; it feels like he really got what he deserved after all his torment.

Yeul - I still think she's more of a plot device than a character, but I did really appreciate that LR completed what she is on top of giving more explanation onto Chaos. Chaos is souls, and since every Yeul is intertwined, constantly dying at a young age, all being the same, yet all being different, that's A LOT of soul juice that congeals yet contradicts each other. The reveal that the Yeuls Are Chaos was literally the one thing I needed that completely solidified all the confusion I had from the last game, and how that turned into keeping Caius around, and them entering Etro's place in the new world, made complete sense. Sure, the Yeuls might not be a character, but they're a very VERY cool world aspect. Also they let the last one be with Noel :))))))))))

Caius - He remains an incredibly cool character. LR might not add much to him, but it doesn't ruin him in the slightest. He's still completely devoted to all of the Yeuls, and their wants affect his very being. Him becoming essentially the lord of death was a very cool ending, simply because it means he still reached the only goal he ever wanted. I love Caius, man.

Lumina - She's.... confusing. I didn't understand at a single point what her deal was, and honestly I still don't think I do, but that might just be me being stupid and not literate enough. Why was she summoning cyclops, why did she break Lightning's sword, why did she cause chaos. Just for funny? I guess? Other than that though, I do think the concept of her character was cool. The part of Lightning's soul removed from her; not only is it the part that had Serah, but it's her childhood self, her childhood emotions that she pushed away. The reveal that Lumina is Claire, and not Serah, was a huge one, and I think it was honestly foreshadowed in the fact that Lumina's eyes look more like Lightning's than they do Serah's. Wait, I'm just realizing it now, was she just fucking around cause she was a kid? That makes a lot more sense actually. Anyways, I think I would have liked a little more overt acknowledgement to her appearance. Give me one verbal "why do you look like that". I also enjoyed the bits where she was actually shown to care, like in Sazh's story.

Bhunivelze - God Himself. The biggest ASS that ever lived. What a douche. I think my favorite part about Bhunivelze was the consistency of the fact that he can't do emotions. It was shown in Hope's voice acting and lack of feeling, it was shown in the one part of Lightning that he took away; and it was his ultimate downfall, when that bit of Hope reversed on him, and made him feel shit he cannot comprehend. It's cool to see something so consistent in a character like this. He also serves as your typical JRPG "church bad" archetype, God only cares about his followers and nothing else, which does give me a bit of schadenfreude, shitty as it is. He is willing to lie and manipulate to get his way and get around what he cannot do. Very cool antagonist. Not the best, but very cool.

The game's just a nice tale ender for everyone (except for like, maybe I could have used an extra moment or two with real Serah). It serves as a good celebration of the trilogy, bringing everyone back in some form. Hell, even Cid came back, even if he was just a bunch of souls in a Cid costume.

Day 4: World

I should have mentioned this sooner, but whatever. The world that the game takes place in, Nova Chrysalia, is SUCH a cool concept???? Like, with the gameplay being what it is, if they just separated the story/characters, the world being super unique could absolutely make this game stand on its own. It's the remains of the normal world mashed together with the realm of death. Since the realm of death is also related to time, and it's broken, people Don't Age. Also, since the goddess of death, who deals with reincarnation, is dead, people can't be born. This world is the perfect stagnation that makes the setting of finite time until the end work. It makes systems like the Last Ones work. It's just super cool. It's split up into 4 zones, each having a sort of unique mechanic. You got Luxerion, the holy city and the capital, with a really cool gothic and checkerboard aesthetic spread around; you got Yusnaan, the city of "we're gonna party til we die (think Eulmore from XIV)", that completely changes vibes at night, as well as having a cool coliseum, and a bunch of for flavor restaurants; there's the Wildlands, that serves as that kind of Archylte Steppe-like big area, and is the only place with a chocobo for you to ride; and then finally the Dead Dunes, a big desert with a ruin underneath it. They're all very unique feeling, and I don't feel bored, especially moving between all of them. I think the Dead Dunes are my favorite zone, simply because you get to slide down the sand and it's really really fun. Yusnaan is probably second.

I think the one gripe I have is that the game needs to sell you a little more on the fact that everyone has been exactly the same for like 500 years. I don't know why, but it just feels like it needs a little more fuel in that department to fully immerse me in it. Maybe some more stagnation or apathetic feelings. There was a quest with a girl selling her tears that I think did this right, give me more of that. Also, uh, with this all said:

Day 5: This Is Just Majora's Mask

Hi yeah let's make a game about the end of the world. We're gonna give it a time limit. We're gonna split the world into 4 sections. The game is mainly going to be focused on side quests where you help the people of the world reach their final wishes, and some of them will be based on time of day. Not to mention, in the final dungeon, we're going to let the player either go straight to the final boss, OR they can do 4 mini trials that give them a super powered upgrade right before the final boss.

I could put some of these separately as a coincidence but I'm gonna be real that final dungeon solidified something to me: something's off. There HAS to be inspiration here lmao (none of this affected my enjoyment it's just really really funny)

Day 6: Music

As usual, the music is fucking phenomenal. It's beautiful, it rocks, it's terrifying, it's amazing. Lightning Returns might have one of the Best final boss themes in the entire series and nobody knows cause it's the weird last entry in a trilogy people hated.

I have. One flaw though. I don't... really like how previous battle themes were used as normal battle themes, cause it feels like it takes away the impact. I was walking through the Wildlands at night, when I ran into a Dryad, and suddenly Desperate Struggle starts playing. I think "oh fuck I just ran into a mini boss" and I thought I was right when this dude started doing massive damage and summoned a bunch of clones. Then I ran into a slug and the same song played. I'm not sad to hear those songs because the XIII trilogy does not miss at a single point, but it makes me sad when they all have the same meaning. I'm also really upset since Worlds Collide doesn't ever get to get to the good part since all the Hoplites are dead before it gets going

Day 7: Graphics

XIII's sauce remains. The game still looks good, and they solved that weird facial expression thing that XIII-2 had. I love the consistent checkerboard aesthetic that the Chaos has, spread throughout the game. Also, that fucking final boss battle? Holy shit. Beautiful. How the floor turns into Bhunivelze's fucking robe??????? That's so cool. The final prerendered cutscene was absolutely peak.

just gonna sleep in the inn for a bit now to get to

Day 13: 0 Days Until The End

Lightning Returns is a game in a weird place. I definitely do not think it deserves the reviews it got; I think that is a result of a time mechanic people didn't really give time (lol), as well as being the 3rd entry in a trilogy where people Did Not care for its first entry, but it really doesn't deserve to be one of the lowest rated FF games.

It could honestly work as its own game. You remove all the actual FF bits, and you have a wonderful standalone action JRPG. But in the same vein, it really Only works as a finale to the XIII series. The story, the characters, and even the evolution of gameplay, it only works/it's at its strongest when you've played the previous games. It wraps up bits from XIII-2 in a way that it feels like it was MADE for doing that.

When I started the game, I wasn't vibing with it. You need to give it time. You need to understand it, and know what it offers and how it works to really appreciate it, it's not going to be instant. Although, towards the end of my playthrough, it was getting a little grindy cause I really frontloaded my experience, not really knowing how much content I had, and in how much space. Especially with the NG+ feature, I imagine this game goes hard on your 2nd-on playthroughs. I'd love to see a speedrun or a fully optimized playthrough, that's GOTTA be sick.

7/10. A bit of an awkward experience in places, but in the end a fun, unique experience that also serves as a nice ending to an overhated trilogy. It's also Majora's Mask. Bhunivelze's Savior.