#none of which were enough apparently
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was listening to the elden ring (+sote) ost on my 8hr bus trip last night and i cannot express how terrible of an idea that was . its was all gorgeous ambience and whatnot that lulled me into a slumber of false security and then i got activated into the waking world like a fucking sleeper agent when i heard malenia's phase 2 music kick into my ears
#elden ring#i looked through my shuffle history afterwards to see what themes HADNT woken me up#and amongst the most intense and loud were; godrick's theme the dragon theme and fucking BAYLE'S theme#none of which were enough apparently#i've just spent so long fighting for my fucking life in malenia's arena that my brain immediately kicked into high gear on impulse#genuinely really funny like i'm not even mad about it#its also gotten me to appreciate the ost a lot more than i already did just sitting there and taking in every sound#got so many chills just Listening while staring out at the nightscape#i genuinely think i could write a fucking essay on messmer's theme#but i digress
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Alright, so this is basically...an art dump for all the pics i drew when i was trying to draft the ending i wanted my Odile looping Au 'Like a Wheel Ever Turning' which...is not even SLIGHTLY how this fic is going to end now, but while figuring that out i still like draw all this and had to do SOMETHING with it.
So figured I'd post it and be like 'hey! fun Odile looping act 5 boss fight vibes not connected to anything else!' since like...that basic IS what they are at this point lol.
The one cool idea i loved that i think is now FIRMLY ditched is the act 5 boss fight starts when Odile uses wish craft to splinter herself into two halves.
The 'old/current' her that is meant to be her coldly logical side, and a younger 'copy' version, which is meant to be the childish irrational side...that is what's stopping her just shutting down the time loop because she can't figure out how to be happy with her friends leaving.
I mean, if you murder the part of you that WANTS the wish to come true, that's basically a 'get out of time loop free card' right? Right! Totally sound logic!
Yes the 'young' version of her firmly believes that she's real, and also also got memories going up to about age 21, and also that she ought to be in Ka Bue not HERE among these french weirdos.
Also yes again, a 'young' Odile is EXACTLY as unhinged about this as you'd expect a 21 year old to be upon finding out that apparently the 'real' her think murdering her is the correct solution to this problem!
The shift of the fight was meant to have the inverse 'colors' shift from one version to the other by the end, wrapping up with the point where the 'original' Odile is forced to have a heart to heart with the personification of her perceived 'worst' qualities.
Pretty sure the vibes for this ending was a lot more focused on the resolution of having deeply complex feeling about EXPRESSING emotion directly to other people. That along with a side helping of how isolating it is to be perceived as a 'real' adult such that you can't be weak enough to ask anyone for help. Because really if you can't even be that then why are you any different then when you were irritating mess of a youth?
Not saying any of that isn't still present in the story, but like...there is a LOT of other stuff going on, and those themes are now linked into many other ones too, and that's not even TOUCHING on how Loop's been...somewhat complicating my redrafting lol.
...Also I might have drawn/plotted this version before i knew about two-hats lol. THAT also is a factor.
Anyway! Still liked all of these enough to want to do SOMETHING with them, and figured this worked, so i could like map out my thoughts on them, even if i never got to write this.
#isat#in stars and time#isat odile#odile looping au#I might have written out like...way too many edgy and utterly disjointed notes for this fight too?#but none of THAT compelled enough for me to want to try and even reread it lol#drew all of this in fever state of creativity back in like september i think?#kept having the thought of 'oh i'll make SOME of it work in the main story'#HA no i didn't - that was the denial and wishful thinking talking#Like there was even a version where the 'young' odile had to do the whole final loop with the group#and that's what forced Loop to join them - to keep her alive no matter the 'other' her's attempts to kill her#while 'old' odile took the place of the king during that final run#'young' odile was DEEPLY weird at the rest of the group for the record - while they were also weirded out + low key endeared#Also before the even knew who the 'final battle' was against young odile HAD loudly declared she was willing to die for 'you weirdos' soooo#Ah to be young unhinged and realised people CAN love you despite that...and that apparently this is reason to commit a murder to AVOID#...if i had a nickle for everytime i wrote a odile looping au where she tried to murder herself#i'd have two nickles#which isn't a lot but ect ect#this one is WAY more serious with it tho lol#my art#like a wheel ever turning au
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book 5 of the year done!!!! im literally one book away from halfway to my goal and the first month of the year isn't even over yet fjsksk i am DEFINITELY going to hit it this year!
#SUUUUPER bummed to say tho that ive made it to the first book of the year i havent enjoyed :/#the worst part is — its the first in a series apparently and like. i WANT to know what happens next#but also i dont CARE enough to want to keep reading the rest of the series yknow?#like. this first book was just SOOOO disjointed#it was ALL exposition#it spent 500 pages giving individual backstories for each of the characters. as in each character l i t e r a l l y told their story#which first of all absolutely BORING way to get to know your characters and second of all NONE od these characters were even likeable!!!#and the worldbuilding was just. weird. it kind of didnt make sense and felt all over the place#and FULLY felt like he was just throwing random sci-fi-y words around to make it sound cooler but like. it wasnt.#and like all these characters are together on this pilgrimage right#but it is NEVER really revealed why/what they plan to do when they get to their end destination/anything like that#and im between each of these character backstories it feels like the same stuff one person is like oh wow what a story lets get some sleep#and then they do and they wake up and they do the tiniest bit of traveling#(which is like. described in the most lackluster barebones way) and then they eat and share another story and rinse and repeat#it was SO boring#it honestly reminded me of the movie the eternals LMAO#all these characters and you get to know a little about them but not enoguh to become invested and none of them are all that interesting#and the purpose of their journey/the purpose of THEM is completely unknown is completely devoid#like it felt like there was no plot#it was. ough not good.#so yeah would NOT recommend hyperion by dan simmons :/#mack reads
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thinking a lot about Ryan (the boys) - Jack (supernatural) parallels
SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THE BOYS SEASON 4 FINALE
everyone obviously has strong feelings about Ryan killing Grace. sadly, i've only seen a lot of vitriol towards Grace for pushing Ryan into killing her... And it's Jack killing Mary all over again.
Grace is scared and has waaaaaaay more awareness of the current danger than Ryan, whereas Ryan is not objective about Homelander and is not understanding what's politically happening, all the bloodshed about to happen. Yes, Grace overloads Ryan with truth bombs about who Homelander is and is asking "too much" of him... but Ryan is not justified in killing her. Full stop. His life was not at risk. His AUTONOMY was. But he was face-to-face with his honorary aunt, who took him in and housed and clothed and fed him, crying, confiding her grief, expressing her love, visibly fearful and hesitant... and Ryan had to shut off his empathy to kill her in that moment.
And it's fiction! So, to serve the plot, this straw had to break. Ryan has gone from accidentally killing his mother in an effort to save her to then killing an honorary family member on purpose. Much to chew on; how did this sweet little boy get to this place? ... But people would rather spit out the story trying to be told (how radicalization happens, how how seemingly good people can be driven to selfish/evil actions, how power corrupts, and so much more) in favor of spewing misogyny. "she fumbled the bag!" "stupid hag got herself killed!" Immediate forgiveness for Ryan ("who among us would have acted any differently in that moment???" they cry), pointing all the blame towards the woman girlbossing-gaslighting a poor widdle boy.
Like... It's the same story again, as far as the vitriolic response to a woman "getting herself killed" by standing her ground/reaching out to a dangerous child. but i'll say it: THESE WOMEN DID NOTHING WRONG. the answer is not "let the dangerous, overwhelmed child walk away." the tragedy is that these women held out hope that their dangerous children wouldn't lash out at them when they reached out. they had trust. Ryan/jack didn't trust back. they rejected. they shut off their empathy.
now, Jack had his journey and we've seen him go the path towards redemption. but it's really awful to see Ryan kill Grace with no apparent sense of guilt and just walk away, and the only audience response i've seen is blaming either Grace or Butcher for RYAN'S ACTIONS.
and it's just not very heroic to refuse responsibility for one's actions. in a show about morality and redemption vs digging one's heels in and rejecting culpability, I really hope the boys pull off their morality tale and those uncritical of Ryan will learn better.
#we are in a low point for critical reading skills#and i'm glad the boys is so obvious and on the nose#because certain people are only just this season realizing that Homelander is the villain#many such cases#just pisses me off that people are way more critical of the heroes rather than the villains#and stories like Ryan are meant to make one reflect on how we ourselves were raised to behave#which apparently makes people so uncomfortable they would rather blame the mother figures than be critical of this child they project onto#because Ryan is both a victim and a power fantasy#I swear how you feel about Ryan&Jack is a litmus test for your morality and your media comprehension both#and luckily Ryan got the ideal loving mother childhood so his storyline should have a much more cut-and-dry moral lesson#none of this “he was abused as a child😭” apologism that I see jack get shielded by all the time because he's technically a toddler#and I don't think anyone's reading Ryan as nd either which is another scapegoat cut out >_>#bc autism be damned jack is aware of the responsibility he takes for his own actions#long rant#the boys#supernatural#Mary winchester#grace mallory#Ryan butcher#(can you believe that is canonically his last name??) billy don't act like it enough#jack supernatural#jack winchester#:)
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one of the weirdest things about *waves hands vaguely in the direction of my relationship* this whole experience. is this time around? there really isn’t a Taylor Swift song that captures it for me.
#even the MOST romantic ones? ones that I DO think capture something of the essence of love. none of them are right somehow!#i will still not be elaborating at this time#closest are probably Everything Has Changed (dust off your highest hopes everything HAS changed)#King of My Heart (is this the end of all the endings? my broken bones are mending)#weirdly State of Grace (love is a ruthless game unless you play it good & right! this is the golden age of something good & right & real!)#but there’s no hearing a song everything snapping into place like oh THIS is what it feels like#because none of those songs are about him you know??? the specificity is missing and the specificity is why I love him#Everything Has Changed is wrong because I knew a whole lot more than his name when everything changed!!#King of My Heart is wrong because it’s not QUIET enough. it’s too triumphant not awed enough#State of Grace is wrong because ‘you were never a saint we learn to live with the pain mosaic broken hearts’ just isn’t the vibe!#and neither of us have blue eyes!!!#and if this was a fictional blorbo song none of that would even matter because I can reach across miles to make a blorbo song work#but apparently not this time??#and the answer might be ‘well cate Taylor has never written a song about falling in love with an old friend’#(except for Glitch which lowkey sucks and Mary’s Song and INTHAF which go back TOO far; we didn’t grow up together)#but also…..it might be that this time it’s not primarily in my head and so I can’t twist it to fit a song#they say you know when you’re really in love because all the love songs make sense#but maybe that’s sort of the being in love with love stage??#maybe you know you’re really in love when none of the love songs can fully cross over into the uniqueness of your experience#anyway. ignore me#or send me song recs for friends-to-lovers lol#in which cate tells stories
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Dude.. my ex boyfriend totally did get me into conspiracy theory shit, even if unintentionally (i think its intentional im sure he believed in that shit. Would not surprise me at all.) At the time i was already pretty isolated from anyone online who mightve countered any of my dumb spiritual or alien related beliefs because of some dumb shit i said online making most of the friends and followers i made online generally avoid me, depending on who it was. I was just a regular pagan and then he showed me this weird video with all this weird conspiracy theory symbolism in it. I looked it up later on and looked up the meaning of the symbolism and came across a whole bunch of stuff posing itself as Secret Information The US Govt Doesnt Want You To Know About, etc. And then i just fell deeper into the conspiracy theory pipeline, traded my paganism for new age beliefs, and goddamn dude. Like we both got suspended from school bc he had a dumb idea to dumb shit there and i spent my time in detention fucking. Trying to read "the emerald tablets" or whatever tf. Its all coming back to me rn.
#anyways im not about to let yall make me feel guilty for falling in this direction anymore bc i was fuckin 14 and didnt know SHIT about us#politics aside from lgbt ppl deserve rights and to live like everyone else and same w all the other minorities (even tho i probably still#had issues i needed to work on around those things. still generally i wouldve considered myself progressive but apolitical)#and i was already at the time rejecting my christian upbringing and trying out satanism and paganism and such and so#i had a very rebellious mindset at the time. i also hated authority so the first antiesrablishment thing i saw i clung to bc it was#*close enough* to how i felt. none of that shit ever outwardly stated (at the time at least) that anything was abt jewish ppl and i was#filling in the parts about 'child sex rings' to be about christians bc thats how i knew them to be like. it just like. seems so obviously#something a christian would try to do. like a creepy priest or something. i imprinted my own meaning onto it#im not saying it was good but i definitely didnt go into it and stick to it for reasons some ppl might wanna believe#i was way more on the spiritual leaning side and the ~secret spiritual meaning~ of the world. like the flower of life or fuckin.#shit like how theres. idk. a fucking disc or something thats supposed to go on top of the great pyramids that super enlightened#people can only navigate like a spaceship or some shit?#idk the mythology of it all really fucking enraptured me. and i still liked the reptilians even tho they were supposed to be evil and#apparently an antisemitic dogwhistle. i thought it was the annunaki or whatever i was supposed to hate. at least.#the opinions were pretty mixed back then. admittedly i didnt really look up other ppls opinions on that stuff other than articles ppl wrote#like no forums or anything really. which is probably a very good thing i avoided those lol. regardless i thought of the reptilians#as being more neutral but generally looking out for themselves kinda like. the way a reptile would ig. but now that ik its a dog whistle#it really took a the magic out of all of that stuff for me :/ im disillusioned to say the least lol.#all that new age shit was appropriation. christianity rebranded. or weird shit people made up about atlantis or whatever sjjsksks#my favorite was the oceanis one where theres a star system where whales and dolphins come from#like that one was my favorite to believe in dhdjjsksksbdhs#imagine being on a star planet diving around in the sea of light u_u anyways it still sounds fun shsjskskwne.#i hope that one is at least more tame. though im sure its still somehow connected to everything else which im p sure it is#dude all of this information is just resurfacing about all of this shit. i could totally write a whole thing about all the conspiracy#theories i learned about. i might if only to make fun of it all sjdjksksks#yall ever heard of FUCKING david willcocks????#his willing cocks???????#his fucking ass#and gaia FUCKING tv#all that dumb shit
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Have you ever been assumed to be romantically attracted to someone and even just the thought of that makes you want to throw up . Anybody
#had someone's husband in my dms going on about how i want this bitch romantically and frankly if i hadn't been so busy crying i would've#actually thrown up . absolutely disgusting idea . vile even . horrid concept#anyway tldr im down a best friend because he didn't tell me anything i was doing was wrong after telling me that everything was okay and#then sent his husband after me to call me a creep that was obsessed with him that also apparently tried to make out w him#the same trip that my best friend of five years told me he hated having me in his hometown to see him graduate.#this was after i found out my cat had been murdered and mutilated and thrown in my granma's garden . that day happened to be my birthday#because my ma was kind enough to drive me and my lil brother down there to go see him graduate bc he was also supposed to move in w us the#month after . and he told me right after i got home that he 'didn't think it would be good for our relationship' and apparently#just didn't know how to tell me until a month before it was supposed to happen . bonkers times over here#anyway i didn't want to make out with him . he cried after i wouldn't have sex w him just last december . which i specifically got high as#shit to avoid . and i dont even have like. actual examples of what i was doing wrong to go off of so now i just get to live in mystery#forever ig. like shocker that the person that's been my best friend for five years would tell his husband to say that to me and not say that#shit to me himself . this is a wild to me . i feel like im going insane . can anybody even hear me what's going on#you know its bad when your mama gets so sick of you crying over a friend that she hugs you for the first time in years#also i cant sleep my head hurts . crying is evil . devils liquid . might watch rpdr or something . still nauseous over the idea of being#into him romantically btw . like still nauseous over that . like what a fucking insult to our entire friendship#does saying that we may as well have been made of the same atoms mean like . nothing . does nothing ive said to or about him not mean anythi#ng if its not romantic in nature . what did i do that wasnt enough for him. i fucking told him he outgrew me and that was fine i just#wanted to know if we were still friends or not and he said we were and i believed him. if he told me the sky was green i would make it so#ripping my hair out . am i being dramatic . am i the only person that wasn't expecting this . am i the only one that didn't know#when i had to tell people who knew about the moving plans that he changed his mind the first fucking thing i was told was “i thought it migh#t happen.“ WELL I FUCKINH DIDN'T . AND NOBODY TOLD ME#this is like . the second most humiliating moment of my life . aside from movinggate because at least nobody irl has to know about this#anyway . this boy could've taken my blood and i'd sit there and smile while he did it because he was my best friend .#i was so glad we got to grow up together. i miss him already. im taking my little brother to school my myself for the first time and all im#gonna wanna do is tell him about it . im tired . i want to sleep . im still so nauseous . did none of it mean anything just because ive#never and will never like him romantically. does that make everything less worthy somehow#i hope he never talks to me again. i dont think i could handle this again. he let is fucking husband say that shit to me. not him.#puppmeo misery
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People who only get in contact/say they miss you when they need something 😒😒😒
#thank you for observing the bare minimum niceties i guess#but also#i no longer work there#and you don’t reach out/reach back when I tried to maintain social contact for like holidays and stuff#(seriously. how hard is it to just say ‘happy holidays to you too. hope ur well too!’)#idk#it wouldn’t bother me so much if i hadn’t thought last year we were friends enough to do that#like i was starting to think of them as friend friends and not just work friends#but like. none of them reached out or checked in. even tho i reached out for holidays abd beginning of the year and everything#which. ya know. hurts a bit#and now that they have a question now they wanna reach out#i mean like. i answered and was polite bc of course that is the correct thing to do#but i am feeling some type of way abt it#and i’m not sure if it is just the general discontent/depression of this time of year exacerbating things for me#or why this strikes such a nerve#but apparently it does#kiki shouts into the void#and i guess it wouldn’t bother me so much if my own family didn’t do it too#(estranged family)#only reaching out not to check on us or with genuine concern/care. only when they are fishing for gossip or being nosy abt our lives#or wanting something#idk. idk.#i just am Feeling Feelings today#and have to vent them to the void#which i guess is better than letting them consume me?#and my journal is far away at home. so. shouting into the void it is!
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The Minotaurs Toy is AMAZING! When you mentioned employees had to be undressed in order to bathe them, just… so many visuals 😙👌 Do you think you’ll write a future story involving bathing the minotaurs?
A/N: This a continuation of this story.
The minotaur’s toy: promotion
Minotaurs x fem!reader || free use, dub-con, breeding, overstimulation, double penetration, knotting, cum-inflation, sharing is caring
After “the incident” it was clear that they weren’t mindless beasts, they were more bull than human, but they know what they were doing and they had fun with you. And you also confirmed that their dicks felt so good inside of you that you were now addicted. Apparently, their cum could not only help you stretch for their girth, but also heal your abused insides as they fucked you over and over. You didn’t know how much time you spent being their fucktoy, they probably fucked you for hours as all your coworkers watched and laughed at your messy pussy being filled over and over, as your limp body having orgasm after orgasm until you were no more than a hole filled to the brim.
It should have been embarrassing, it should have bothered you, but it didn’t. You didn’t mind everyone knowing how much of a slut you were. It was true after all. Also, after that, you became some kind of legend between your coworkers, and instead of firing you as you feared, they decided to give you a promotion. You were, finally, one of the bath-helpers you wanted to find out more about.
The rumors about the bath-helpers were true, they had to wear tiny bikinis if anything (most of them decided not to wear anything at all) to help the minotaurs during their bath-time. They got them all wet and horny seeing the lush human bodies around them, so most of the time they humans had to kneel before them and receive a couple of cum showers, which they did gladly. But in your case it was… a bit different.
They were so impressed by your breeding performance that they added a few new points to your contract. You were sure none of the other people working there had those clauses, but you didn’t even care as long as you were free to do that, free to be used and fucked every time a minotaur decided. Why would you not be okay to be a free use cum-dump bath-helper? That sounded delicious. Just thinking about it got you wet. It fed right into your obsession with minotaur dick, that got even worse after you tried it. Maybe you were a bit sick, but who cared if you could indulge in your desires and be rewarded for it?
That’s why you found yourself naked and wet, helping a big minotaur wash his body (very thoroughly). He smiled down at you, mooing every time you touched a sensitive spot. He was enjoying himself greatly, and with each caress of your soapy hands against his body, you got wetter and wetter. You were a slut a couldn’t help it, okay? And his knowing smirk was not doing anything to help you with that.
You lowered your hand as soon as you saw his dick getting hard, but you didn’t get enough time to make contact with his erection, he grabbed you by the waist and manhandled (minotaur-handled?) you until you were wrapped around his torso and the tip of his dick was against your dripping hole. He grunted when he lowered your body, entering you in one long thrust that made your eyes roll back into your head and your brain short-circuited. It happened a lot of times already, but you never got fully used to being fucked by them. He settled for a fast and hard pace, bouncing you on his dick like you weighted nothing to his big bulging muscles, and you were over the moon with pleasure already. You liked to be used like that, you liked when they didn’t mind you at all as they got your pleasure out of your tight hole.
Just as the minotaur was starting to thrust erratically indicating that his orgasm was near, you felt a big body covering your back, the tip of a new cock resting against your asshole. They never tried to fuck you in tandem like that, but being the filling in a minotaur sandwich was too good of an idea for you to complain. Not that you could have complained as your brain turned into mush when he started to press into your asshole. The first minotaur stopped, fully stetted inside. You were too stretched to be able to take the second one, but they didn’t care about your comfort, he pushed and pushed until you felt so full you could burst. You groaned and moaned, tiny whimpers escaping you as they (thankfully) let you adapt for a total of ten seconds before they pulled out of you and back inside at the same time. Your cries of pleasure mixed with their grunts.
They started fucking your pussy and ass like machines, making you orgasm in a few thrusts, your body seizing between them. They roared as you twitched around them, your body so stretched it was shutting down your brain completely, you were no better than a mindless fleshlight as they drove into your trembling holes over and over.
Just like the first time, your orgasmed over and over, so close together that you didn’t know if you were coming or not anymore, it was just a long torture of pleasure that left you breathless and limp between them. They didn’t care about the state of your brain, though, they only cared about your holes squeezing them. They forced orgasm after orgasm out of you, chuckling every time you came again, just to grunt when your holes squeezed again.
And when the first one’s knot started to expand, you felt like your soul was leaving your body, transcending into a new dimension. But it didn’t end there, the pressure against the thin wall between them made the second one push as far as he could before you started knotting you, too. You didn’t know what happened next, you only remembered opening your mouth in a silent scream as a wave of blinding pleasure hit you. You passed out, or maybe you didn’t, you could only feel the constant flow of come filling you.
When they pulled back, a gush of cum left your body, your stomach distended and your holes a filthy mess. But they didn’t care… And neither did the two other minotaurs waiting their turn.
You loved your new job.
Please read this for an update in my life and more stories situation.
#minotaur#minotaurs#monster#request#minotaur x reader#minotaur x you#minotaur x human#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#monster x reader#terato#monster boyfriend#monsters#monster fuqqer#monster kink#monster love#monster lover#monster romance#monster smut#monster x you#monsterfucker#monsterfucking nsft
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Dp x DC Prompt: Space Like An Ocean
An alien had taken up residence outside of the Watchtower. Its first appearance immediately started a panic with most of the heroes that could survive in space converging on the station to see whether it was friend or foe. In the end, it did not seem either.
In fact, it seemed fine with just basking and napping wrapped around parts of the Watchtower that made up the outside. It wasn’t the size of the Watchtower, but off and on it was a very near thing.
Humanoid, yet distinctly inhuman. White whispy hair sat atop its head, pointed ears, and the only feature that could be made out of its face were two bright green glowing eyes. A color that sent Batman into a research frenzy. Its skin was void-dark. Almost looking as if a piece of space itself had separated from the cosmos and took and almost snake-like form. Or maybe an eel?
The most notable thing about the creature were its injuries. Multiple lacerations covered it, leaking a green that never touched the Watchtower and seemed to evaporate not long after leaving its body. Any silent attempts to collect it for study and to figure out what it was were met with emotionless green eyes and a bare hint of fang. They backed off quickly.
Flash liked to call it a mer-eel. “Cause it’s got an almost human torso, two arms, and the rest just kind of curls up!”
Wonder Woman was unimpressed with this. “That would suggest it is more like a naga.”
To which Green Lantern replied, “No, no, he’s right. There’s an almost white fin-like bit that goes down the tail like an eel’s does.”
Any more attempts to identify the creature led to nothing and soon the “eel” became a silent fixture of the Watchtower.
It was ages later when Zatanna entered the Watchtower to discuss a completely non-connected case when she stumbled immediately upon leaving the Zeta Tube and had to lean against a wall, breathing heavily.
“Something feels like Death.” Was all she could get out before her eyes rolled into the back of her head and she dropped to the ground. She wouldn’t wake up, dead asleep. Immediate worry all around lead to Justice League Dark being contacted in full.
Constantine with Deadman in tow were ultimately the ones to solve the mystery. It took but a moment for Deadman to be seen thanks to Constantine’s “magic” and awe was the first thing apparent on his face. Deadman didn’t even need to leave the Watchtower to know what it was.
“Oh,” he whispered like a prayer. “So that’s where he goes when he takes a break.”
Queue questioning.
“He” turned out to be Phantom, the Ghost King who had apparently decided the Watchtower was a perfect basking spot. Confusion was abound at this.
“No, see,” Deadman tried to explain. “He has two Obsessions and the Watchtower feeds into both. Heroes who protect, as he is a protector spirit himself and probably feels a kinship, and space.”
Constantine and Deadman explained as best as they could, but when the questions finally settled, the last was “Why isn’t Constantine affected like Zatanna? Why aren’t the rest of them affected like Zatanna?”
“That’s easy!” Deadman piped. “None of you are attuned to death magic! I’m a ghost, he’s my King. Zatanna is a magician with experience in most magics. And Constantine doesn’t own enough of his soul to feel the death!”
In the end, a request from Deadman was all it took for things to change. With barely a rumble, Phantom pulled himself from the Watchtower and drifted far enough away for his aura to no longer affect Zatanna. The heroes could only watch in awe as the eel-like god returned to the open ocean of space.
Addition:
There were a giant green eyes observing the conference room. Every hero inside was frozen in place, staring back at the eyes and trying their best not to move a muscle. Phantom had moved from atop the station. Phantom had acknowledged them. Phantom was staring at them from a window of the Watchtower.
No one knew why he was there. Just that suddenly he was. The bright green lighting the entire room with its shine was the only warning they got. They stared. He stared.
Slowly, he moved. A hand-shape pointed with a claw. They were confused. The hand made a pointing motion again.
The table?
Ah. Several shards of kryptonite sat on the table. The topic of the discussion as someone had somehow gotten ahold of the shards and used them against Superman. They needed to know who supplied them.
The hand pointed again.
Why did Phantom want the shards?
Apparently, it wasn’t up to them to question as the pointing hand phased into the room, palm up. Waiting. No one moved for a moment until a white narrowed slit formed in Phantom’s eyes.
Green Lantern was quick to grab the shards (Batman made a token protest, those were his damn it) and placed them in the palm. He shivered as his finger brushed the skin, ice cold washing up and down his spine.
The hand closed, retracted and approached the face. The eyes stared as a large mouth opened (fangs, sharp sharp fangs laid in green) and a tongue popped out. The shards were placed on the tongue and the mouth closed with a sharp crunch.
Phantom grinned almost smugly before he drifted away from the window and back to the top of the Watchtower.
“Did- Did Phantom just ask for a snack?”
#danny phantom#dp x dc#ghost king danny#danny phantom fic#fanfic#mer danny#eel danny#mer eel danny#kryptonite is catnip to ghosts#kryptonite ghost snack#I’m not good at titles
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Chapter 2 of Blurr storyline >:D
“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”
“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head is all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”
Part one
Holy shit I actually managed to finish it…..Oh. My god.
Under the cut⤵️
Is it stupid to miss someone who doesn't even exist?
Probably yes, but hey, Swerve already has several degrees, might as well get another one. A degree in Stupidity or something. Who cares?
For the first few days after waking up from his coma, he feels like he's going crazy. Everybody has realistic dreams, right? The ones where you can scrutinize every angle, memorize every face and smell and sound. The ones that make you lie still for a while after waking up, grasping at every thing you can. Trying to memorize everyone you meet, imprint them in your head.
Because apart from your mind, they don't exist anywhere else. So that's your only way to keep them.
It never works. Obviously. Details slip away. Impressions fade. Just a couple days, and you won't be able to recall anything but the main events from memory.
Wait, hell, not days. Cycles.
His life is a weird, pathetic, fantastical circus. Earth term. Heh. There are no circuses on Cybertron, haha!
But Swerve remembers. And the word circus, and the smell of asphalt, and rains that were made of water not acid. Remembers the English language. Can speak it fluently, even if you wake him up in the middle of the night.
Remembers his work schedule and remembers which company makes the best details. And Tailgate with his bright blue uniform and Wheeljack with his endless experiments and Swindle with his expensive coat and of course...yeah, no, don't think of Blurr, don't think of Blurr, don't. Don't.
He'd heard about it. Read about it, too. Mechs waking up from comas and doing wild things. Some forgot how to speak at all, some gained a new skill, some lived a whole life while they slept.
Articles tell Swerve, don't worry, what you've experienced isn't unique. The doctor tells Swerve that the same thing has happened to others before you, it will be okay, it will pass.
Swerve isn't sure he wants it to pass.
He's been in a coma for who knows how long. The medic said it was caused by an internal trauma that decided to suddenly get worse. One minute he's recharging , the next he's gone. Internal injuries are insidious.
So it turns out. One day he just disappeared from the world because he was busy slowly dying in his room and no one noticed until a thief tried to sneak in. The only one who came to him was a Mech who wanted to steal his stuff. Huh.
That feels revolting. Swerve liked to think he had enough friends. Or at least enough good connections. Enough those who should have noticed his absence, right?
Apparently not. His shifts at work were reassigned, his contacts never texted him first, his...
His small persona wasn't important enough for anyone to notice his disappearance.
Would his human coworkers notice? Would Tailgate have noticed? Or Jazz? Swindle?
Jazz would have noticed, he was always surprisingly attentive when it came to his friends. And he was friends with just about everybody.
Swindle would probably get upset about the money he'd lost.
It's amazing how much his brain-- wait, no, his processor. How much his processor could create to entertain him. It's a more elaborate world than the most complex series Swerve has ever known. And that scrap had forty-six seasons and fifteen encyclopedias!
People, Earth, a bunch of new languages and rules and all for the sake of the end being like, OOPS! ...it was all a dream. Hilarious. Worst plot twist ever. Swerve hates it when stories go in this direction even more than when they kill off their characters.
In his humble opinion, death is better than the revelation that none of the experiences made sense or had any value. In terms of writing scripts obviously. Haha.
He's busy roaming haphazardly through his own memory. He's looking, comparing, trying to find inconsistencies or things that don't make sense. All the stuff that usually gives away the fact that what happened was a dream.
Most of his memories are occupied by--No. Frag.
Don't think about Blurr, don't think about Blurr, don't think..
He's thinking about Blurr. A lot.
Blurr occupies a surprisingly important role in his comatose dreams.
In the time he spent just looking at him, you could hand-build an entire Mech. Maybe even three. Swerve remembers picking up every bit of merch he could reach with his paycheck. Watching hundreds of videos and buying every new themed drink even if it was a flavor he didn't like.
Then spent a surprising amount of time resenting Blurr for not living up to his fantasies.
Blurr's behavior hadn't helped either, of course, but now, looking back at the past himself Swerve thinks that.. Oh wow. You weren't just annoyed at him. You blamed him for ruining your beautiful fantasy. You were having so much fun entertaining yourself with thoughts of this marvelous image, and he came along and corrupted it. Poisoned the well you drank joy from.
But that's not quite true, Swerve thinks.
Blurr was more complicated than that. But exactly how, he'll never know. All he has are his memories, and those memories are cut short at the most interesting point.
Swerve knows this plot twist. The asshole character that no one loves at the last second turns out to not be what everyone thought, but it's too late.
Oh no, he's not an evil jerk, he's actually traumatized. Oh no, he wasn't bad, he was actually secretly helping everyone. You thought he was awful? Well now you're going to feel awful reading fanfics.
Serevus Spayne didn't actually betray the main character's dad, no no, he was in love with him! Bam. Drama.
Swerve isn't a big fan of this stuff. He likes his characters developed properly. But he can't deny the appeal of a character leaving behind a bunch of questions you thought you knew the answer to.
Uggh.
The doctor was wrong. These thoughts don't go away. These memories don't dull.
Swerve just boils in them, constantly getting stuck in his own head. Sometimes he puts English words into his speech and everyone looks at him strangely. Sometimes he reflexively says some inside joke and no one gets it and he's left standing there with an awkward smile. Because. Guys, you don't understand, if my coworkers were here they'd think it's hilarious. I promise, in my fantasy world, it's funny.
When he gets a job on one of the Autobot ships, he accepts it thinking it might be a good distraction from his thoughts.
When he happens to see Prowl with a tiny human on his shoulder in the corridor of that ship, he thinks he's lost his mind.
The whole thing. The whole load-bearing structure on which his picture of the world has been held suddenly gives a lurch. Living your life in a super realistic dream is wild, but meeting a character from your dream in real life??
Freaking cursed.
Jazz looks puzzled by his reaction, but all Swerve can think about are two things.
One, if Jazz is here, does that mean everything else was real, too???
Two - holy shit, Jazz is tiny.
It never occurred to him. But he didn't really know what size humans were. Well, sure, he could measure it in numbers. But he was among humans himself. And about the same size. He was generally even shorter than most of them.
If Jazz is so small, he can't imagine how tiny Tailgate would be. Or--
He can feel his spark freeze. In fact, he can almost hear the sound of a string breaking in his processor. Does that mean Blurr is real too? Real and just as tiny and currently dead? Because Swerve was there but was too convinced it was all just a dream to help?
He's going to get sick.
He needs to talk to Jazz right now.
____________
Swerve taps his fingers nervously on the countertop. Come on. You're good at talking. Talking is your greatest skill. All you have to do is tell someone else about your comatose hallucinations and hope they don't think you're crazy.
They're sitting at a table at the bar. More specifically Swerve and Prowl are sitting at the table, and Jazz is sitting right on the table. (God he's so small).
“So uh. I got injured a while back and...uh...well, it got worse, turned out important systems were affected and I kind of. I was in a coma. For a really long time.”
Jazz frowns
“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.”
He speaks in a mildly wonky Common, Swerve notes to himself. He waves his servo a little too cheerfully in response.
“'Ay it's no big deal really. I saw a whole other world while I was asleep and like. See, I thought it was just my fantasies, but it seemed very real and...”
Swerve mentally crosses his fingers.
“And it was about this planet called Earth and about people who were building their own inanimate huge robots to fight huge aliens and their boss wanted to launch Mechs into space, so he picked the best of the pilots named Jazz and sent him on this test mission and...”
Jazz looks at him with huge eyes before switching to English in surprise.
“Mech, what the hell?”
“...And we lost him...” finishes Swerve with a sad smile.
Before thinking for a bit, and adding.
“I'm going to show you a trick I can do.”
And then projects his holoform onto the table in front of him.
This. It's weird. Not in a way that would tilt it in the direction of unnatural. More like walking around in his comfy indoor pajamas right in the middle of the street. Being human is familiar to him, but being human amongst huge Cybertronians? Strange. And a little creepy.
Prowl looks confused.
Jazz looks absolutely frantic.
“SWERVE????”
Swerve doesn't even manage to respond, only to smile in relief before Jazz rakes him into his arms. In his holoform, Jazz feels right again. He's taller than Swerve and oh boy, he's alive and unharmed. To think everyone thought he was dead, staying up nights trying to find what was left of him, and he was on the other side of the universe the whole time?
Swerve chuckles into Jazz's shoulder. Then picks him up and spins him around a couple times just because he needs something to get his energy out. Man, it's nice to hug people. Warm and soft, eight out of ten.
Jazz pulls away but still stays standing very close. Swerve can literally see the happy stars in his eyes.
“Dude, I'm not complaining but what...how???? You just kinda..."
Swerve laughs and twitches his eyebrows playfully.
“I still speak English, you don't have to torture yourself with Common.”
“Oh thank fuck.” Jazz throws his hands up dramatically “you're my favorite person right now.”
There is a polite click of the vocalizer resetting above their heads.
“I” Prowl says “very glad you two are happy but I'd like some explanation”
Swerve presses his head into his shoulders guiltily. Prowl has the unique ability to always sound like you've done something wrong in front of him.
Although Jazz doesn't seem to feel the same way?
“Short version - I sleepwalked my holoform to another planet.”
He pauses dramatically.
“The long version is...”
Jazz raises his hand
“What's a holoform?”
Swerve sighs.
“It's a holographic avatar that I can project using a holomatter generator. Sort of like a remote controlled game character.”
Jazz whistles impressed. And then immediately turns back to Prowl
“Have you been able to do that all this time too?“
Prowl hums
“I can create an avatar, but it takes a lot of practice to make it at least believable. And to fully perceive the world through it takes even more. It's a whole new technology. What Swerve does is essentially an art form. Sophisticated and impressively detailed may I add.”
Swerve shrugs shyly. He's still using the holoform to stand on the table next to Jazz. Looking up to speak to Prowl isn't exactly comfortable, but Jazz definitely looks like he's been missing the human presence. Swerve isn't human, but he might as well be.
“Thank you. Yes! Uh. Anyway, it seems while I was in a coma my processor projected my avatar onto Earth and I...let's just say I lived there for a while.”
Jazz laughs
“Dude. So you're telling me you were basically sleepwalking the whole time?”
“ I was.”
Prowl frowns.
“But the range limit of the holomatter generator is only four hundred miles...”
“.... I had a lot of practice...”
Jazz claps his hands.
“You learned a whole other language! Got an ID!. You had a job!!!”
“I got carried away,” Swerve admits.
Jazz scratches the back of his head, still looking very amused
“How many degrees did you get? Haha wait no, I have a better question, did you pass your driver's license?”
“Two. And I failed my driver's exam.”
“Dude you are literally a car without a driver's license!” collapses Jazz on the table with laughter.
Swerve blows the hair out of his face
“Says you who retook the physical several times. You couldn't pass the "being human" exam.”
Jazz just wheezes incoherently in response. Prowl looks alarmed.
“Don't worry, that's him getting excited. So...where have I been...”
Swerve nervously shoves his hands into his pockets
“...Do either of you two know where Earth is?”
Prowl twitches his door wings
“No. Since Jazz was teleported we don't have much clues.”
Swerve grimaces. Scrap. Of course nothing's going to be that easy. He's also been, like,....teleported.
He stands there for a couple minutes and just feels fifteen different emotions rise up in his head at once. A crooked, unsteady smile creeps across his face.
He's thinking.
Oh hell, yeah! I knew it wasn't a dream!
Then he remembers the mess he left behind.
Oh, no, it wasn't a dream.
Jazz puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Swer... Swerve? Dude, are you okay?”
“Ah frag..” Swerve says weakly ”it wasn't a dream.”
Jazz looks...puzzled.
“Is that bad?”
Swerve remembers his friends. Remembers the Mecha program. Remembers fire and smoke and screams and rumbling and crackling flames. Ashes flying through the air and the smell of burnt wires. He remembers blood and debris and...
“It's...complicated.”
This wasn't just a stupid plot twist he'd dreamed up because he'd watched too many shows. This wasn't a hallucination or a disembodied fantasy that just happened to linger in his head. This was real. His friends exist out there somewhere. His work and his collections and his little apartment...
And Blurr. Was real. Or still is? Swerve doesn't know. Blurr wasn't a product of his imagination. He was real and what he did was real and Swerve left him there alone, bleeding and trapped in rubble and tiny and...
Hahahahah oh fUCK.
He doesn't like this plot. It's too much. Too much to handle, too complicated, too ambiguous.
It's also probably too late.
But he can't leave it like this, right? Blurr went into the damn burning building just because of the possibility that there might be someone alive in there.
And Swerve doesn't even have to go through the flames. He has to look. He has to try at least.
Jazz glares at him with a worried look on his face
“ That expression you have...”
Swerve puts the smile back on his face.
“I need to get to Earth.”
___________________
Swerve is not an idiot.
Or maybe more accurately an idiot, but with several degrees.
He's well aware that finding Earth in space with only a description of it is impossible. Which leaves him with two options.
Ask the Quintessons. Or look for it himself.
The first sounds like death. The second like coma. Swerve has exquisite enough taste to know which is better.
He just needs to do some preliminary reserch.....
Jazz, now back inside his Mech looks doubtful.
“You're not going to die suddenly and for no reason, are you?”
Swerve laughs.
“Pfffff what, no of course not, would I kill myself hah. No no, look I'll just put myself in stasis for a bit. Send myself to Earth. And try to figure out where it is from there. Get the coordinates. If I'm lucky, I can see what Space Bridge the local Quintessons use. All you'll have to do is wake me up after a while.”
“It's not harmful?”
Swerve makes an uncertain gesture with his hand...servo.
“If I have enough fuel. And an additional connection to an external generator.”
Jazz tilts his head
“ Why are you so eager to get to Earth? Don't get me wrong, I miss it too and want to go back, but.”
Swerve bites his knuckles.
“ I have some unfinished business?”
“Pshhhh you sound like a ghost.”
Swerve only laughs in response.
_______________
Concentration is tricky.
Swerve tries to think about Earth. And not to think about the fact that he doesn't know where it is. If he's already been there once, he might as well go there again yes? In theory? Perhaps?
Except for the possibility that his sleepwalking just takes him to random planets. That would be very inconvenient. It would be a whole new level of lost
Shit. No. Earth. Think Earth.
What's he even gonna do when he gets there? How far away is it? Swerve is very talented with his holomatter generator, but if it's really far away... maybe he should reset some settings.
He mentally starts going through his options. Does he need tangibility? Probably not. Come to think of it, it would only make him more vulnerable and take a lot of energy. Yeah, the tangibility has to go. What else? Touch, too. Sight and hearing should stay, that's not even a question, but colors and textures are not really necessary.
The amount of detail and picture quality can be reduced as well. His holoform will become colorless and grainy and will probably ripple with static, but he'll survive it.
After he finishes making changes to his holoform he thinks about his old stuff left in his house. Then about the posters. Then reminds himself that he needs to focus on the goal or he'll never find Blurr and...oh FUCK his phone! Where was his phone when he disappeared? Was it found?? There were so many personal things on that phone, he's hoping the phone was burned under the rubble. Either that or the arriving investigators will find his browser history and he'll go into another coma from pure embarrassment.
He blinks dazedly when he realizes he has loads of rocks in front of his eyes. Oh..Did he screw up? Did he end up on the wrong planet? Is it a cave or--
Then he notices the odd shape of the “rocks” and. Oh, no. It's not a cave. It's charred concrete debris.
This is the place where he was last.
He hastily looks around. Anxiety creeps up the back of his neck, makes him feel like something slippery and cold is crawling over his skin. There is nothing but ruins all around.
Blurr is not here. The place where his Mech was lying is empty.
Which means he was at least found and dragged out. Dead or alive.
Swerve's bites his knuckles. Okay.
All right.
He's got things to do.
_______________
He's trying to stay out of sight. Which isn't hard, considering he's just a hologram. At first, he just sneaks around in the quiet areas. Then proceeds to do a facepalm and start teleporting. Think, Swerve. Did you read all those comic books for nothing? Superheroes who couldn't really use their superpowers creatively always annoyed him. And he does, in fact, have a superpower. Gotta get creative, right?
He stops and looks at himself again. His holoform is going static and is a dull white color. He thinks for a bit, and then shrinks himself. Thinks some more, and makes himself almost transparent. There's no way he could pass as a normal human right now, so he'd better just do his best to avoid being seen by anyone.
He looks around thoughtfully. Hmm. Even if he's going to be absolutely tiny, he needs to make sure no one sees him, otherwise the whole base will think the Quintessons are now spying on them through holograms or something.
Breaking the rules feels...it's exciting.
All his ..human life here he hadn't thought about it, but if he threw away the rules he was used to about what people could or couldn't do...
He looks up in a sudden rush of sly genius. All people look under their feet when they walk, but how many look up? And how many of them notice the barely visible tiny holoform hiding just behind the blinding lamps?
The answer is probably none.
Swerve projects himself onto the ceiling and mentally pats himself on the shoulder for his impressive intellectual accomplishments. A creativity degree should definitely be a thing.
A degree in spying on the Quintessons' ships wouldn't hurt him either.
Fortunately sneaking onto their ship turns out not to be that difficult. Swerve makes himself absurdly tiny and hides in the darkest corners that no one would ever think to look into. Why hasn't anyone thought of using holoforms for spying before? Could he be the first to think of it? He doesn't know, but he mentally decides to patent the idea.
Finding the Space Bridge is surprisingly easy. The local Quintesson fleet is clearly used to being the dominant force in space. And that's generally logical. Even if humanity collects a mountain of money from somewhere to throw a dozen Mechs into space - there will be thousands of monsters waiting for them. In such a situation, you don't have to hide, the guards are enough.
Well done, well done, don't hide, Swerve thinks, copying the coordinates and address of the space bridge to himself. You have absolutely nothing to fear here, he thinks, so stay where you are and don't move. Please and thank you.
Once the coordinates are obtained, he... has some freedom to explore. And he uses it for probably the most boring-sounding thing in the world. He returns to his usual workplace.
It’s simple. As damning as the Mecha program was, Swerve loved his job in it. He loved his position in the assembly shop. And he missed his friends.
He quickly teleports through several rooms, continuing to hide close to the lamps. Tailgate is here. Alive and unharmed. Wheeljack is too, though his face has some scars added to it. It's great to see them again, even if he can't talk to them right now. No one will probably react well to a grainy unexplainable hologram. He's just glad to know they're okay and honestly, the last thing he needs is paranoid Onslaught installing extra signal jammers.
It takes time to find Blurr. Partly because Swerve is terrified of what he might find if he started looking. So he goes to check the death lists first, and only after flipping through and re-reading them three times does he finally exhale in relief.
Blurr's name isn't there.
So his smug, shiny ass must be around here somewhere.
He checks the hangar. Flips through the Mech launch logs and feels an uncomfortable knot begin to form in his chest. Blurr's Mech has never been repaired or launched even once since the incident. Its plating has been replaced with new, well polished, and put in a prominent place where anyone who wants to can take a picture of it. But all the internal systems are destroyed. This machine hasn't been used for anything other than being a beautiful exhibit.
That's...something's wrong.
He checks offices and schedules as well as eavesdropping on a few conversations and ends up secretly following Swindle, who is arguing loudly with someone on the phone. He says something about deals and how he doesn't need anyone meddling in his business. Then he talks about how he's got everything under control and the person on the phone is “a dumbass who's making drama out of nothing” and that “he doesn't need anyone's handouts". Then he sighs and says, “you know how celebs are. Dumb and dramatic. You can't take their words literally.”
Then drops the call and for a couple seconds looks like he's just had a large bill taken right out of his hand. Curses again, but in a quieter voice. Leafs through his contacts and stops at the one signed 'free ice'.
“Blurr? Where are you? Wha...ah, no wait. No, the advertising agency called. No, liste...Can you shut up for one second?Where are you?
Uh-huh....... Uh-huh.Okay.
Give me half an hour...okay, yeah.”
This is it, Swerve thinks.
He shrinks himself further and teleports under the collar of Swindle's coat.
He wants to take a look. Just. Just a peek. Make sure everything's all right. Then he can go about his original mission in peace. He watches Swindle get in his car and drive off somewhere. Swerve doesn't recognize this part of town. The houses here are much nicer than where he lived. The streets are cleaner.
He tucks himself further under the coat collar. He's not going to be a stalker or anything, but he's worried and he doesn't have time to wait for Blurr himself to show up for work. Just one little look and that's it.
Swindle's car stops outside a beautiful, shiny hospital. Swerve nervously tries to bite his knuckles, but remembers he's disabled touch in his holoform. Shit? Shit.
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shi
Blurr looks like a mangled corpse.
Okay, not really. His left side that faces the door to the hospital room looks like a mangled corpse and that's the first thing that catches Swerve's eye when he's inside.
Blurr is pale and thin and his hands are covered in bandages. The left side of his face has been turned into an absolute ugly nightmare. A piece of his ear is missing. In the place of the left eye is a creepy empty hole.
Suddenly Swerve realizes why Blurr didn't show up for work. You can't even show him to his coworkers like that, not just to the public.
Blurr turns his head and the spell breaks. His lips stretch into a cocky smile.
“'Got bored without me Swindle?”
Swindle doesn't show the slightest emotion at the gruesome sight. He casually pulls a chair over to the hospital bed and sits down.
“Shockwave is trying to sneak a new project into the program. And he's slowly swaying investors to his side, using you as an excuse. Tells everyone you're a poor martyr he can save if only he's given the green light from above.”
Blurr wrinkles his nose.
“Not that he's wrong. The doctors say I need to pick a new career because with this...” he jerks his head to the left implying his damaged half, ” neither racing nor piloting is an option for me anymore. I'm out of your project.”
Then he stops talking for a few seconds and raises an eyebrow curiously.
“You wouldn't have come here in person just to say that. Why are you really here?”
Swindle adjusts his glasses
“Have I ever told you why I made the contract with you?”
“Because you like money” Blurr says without hesitation.
Swindle lets out a quiet chuckle.
“Fair point. But money wasn't my only priority.”
He pauses for a second. Gets up. Draws the curtains in the room. Checks to make sure no one is outside the door.
Goes back to his seat.
“You didn't see what the Mecha project was like before. Brutality and absolute disregard for human rights multiplied by a thousand. People were desperate and no one cared to maintain any decency.”
He raises his hand when Blurr rushes to say something.
“No no, listen to me. If you think things are bad now, you're right. But it used to be much. Much, much worse.”
Swindle sighs and adjusts his glasses again
“Vortex was taken as a boy. He wasn't even out of high school when they shoved him into the lab. Me and Onslaught were pulled right out of the college exams. The others were no better, although they were usually a little older. My point is that it was allowed. It's what the superiors could do and no one told them no.”
Blurr tilts his head and gets a little all turned around to see Swindle better with his right eye.
“But you... found a way to change that, didn't you?
Swindle rubs the bridge of his nose
“I have no power over my own superiors. But Onslaught and I have come up with a plan. Look. I'll put it in simple terms for you. Above me is my boss, and above him is another boss, and so on but at the very end of that chain are people from the government. The investors. So we figured out a way to cut through the chain of command and influence them directly. Make them worry about us. It's a kind of social shield. Onslaught is a genius.”
Blurr blinks.
“Why are you telling me all this.”
Swindle takes off his hat and just. Crumples it in his hands. The back of his head shows numerous scars and the glint of tiny metal implants barely visible behind his hair.
“You're that shield right now, Blurr. You can't leave.”
Blurr's eye widens
“Is that why you insisted on ‘befriending’ me with all those bullshitters?”
“I needed to make sure that in their minds we weren't just a military unit. To keep them thinking that we're as human as they are. So I gave Project Mecha a face.” He tugs on the hat again, “Your face.”
Blurr runs his fingers through his hair
“Shockwave can't do whatever he wants cause...because of me his efforts would risk going public and people wouldn't like it and it would ruin the reputation of our investors-and-they'd-cut-off-his-funding.”
Swindle puts his hat back on.
“Exactly.’ That's why he's being so persistent right now. He knows you're vulnerable and he wants to capitalize on the opportunity. Make you part of his new project and tell the world about it. Make publicity his weapon, too.”
The lamp above them flickers faintly. Blurr takes a breath. Long and tired and exhausted and. a bit doomed.
Swindle puts a hand on his shoulder.
“Please. Don't leave. At least not now. And don't let Shockwave get to you. That would open the way for him to get to the rest of the pilots you represent.”
They just. Sit in silence for a while. Blurr quickly taps a finger on his knee. A rapid tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.
Swindle moves his hand away and gets up from his chair.
“There's a press conference coming up. I need you to be there. I've told everyone who needs to know that the problem is exaggerated and you're fine but they need to see you.”
Blurr smiles sourly.
“My lawyer is going to charge you such a handsome sum for that stunt.”
Swindle laughs, but his cardboard advertising smile doesn't reach his eyes.
“We’ll see about that. Seriously though. I need you there.”
Blurr bites his lip.
“I..don’t know...”
Swerve...doesn't know what to think of that.
Blurr shows up for the press conference. Late, but he makes it. Just as Shockwave is presenting his new project in his amazingly well-pitched voice. Blurr swings the door open and waltzes lazily inside, skillfully pretending not to notice the many cameras and eyes instantly directed at him.
Swerve, whose memory is still fresh thinks for a second that no, no this can't be the same person. Past Blurr looked like a wreck. Past Blurr was tense and tired and hunched over. Present Blurr couldn't look more alive. His shoulders are squared proudly, there's that cheerful springiness and grace in his stride. He moves with ease and confidence. Smoothly.
The left side of his face is neatly covered with fresh white bandages. Carefully, without leaving the even the slightest gap through which his injury could be seen. His hands are hidden under a fancy jacket. He smiles wide and bright and squints playfully toward the table.
The very embodiment of nonchalance. The few pilots sitting in the audience roll their eyes.
Swindle breathes out a barely perceptible sigh of relief. Swerve, once again using Swindle's collar as a tactical cover, can't help but let out a silent triumphant laugh. Maybe slightly more nervous than he is supposed to be.
Blurr sends Swindle a sly, sharp smile and even knowing it wasn't meant for him, Swerve feels his cheeks heat up.
Ah, damn it.
Swerve breaks the rules. He tells himself that peeking is fraught with consequences when it comes to military organizations, but he can't stop himself from being curious. And from worry, too.
And now that he knows where to look, he sees things he'd rather not see.
Blurr ... is crumbling.
Swerve doesn't know all the details and consequences, but that incident did leave a mark.
But every time Swindle calls him and says “I need you at some place in two hours” he gets up and assembles himself into a human being. Like a goddamn puzzle. Tapes and covers the burned half of his face. Covers up the bruises and hides the stitches. Fixes his hair and sets off on shaky legs to pretend he's fine.
He smiles so bright and carefree, laughs so sweet and beautiful that no one would ever think that even standing up sometimes hurts.
And continues to act like a jerk of course.
The only difference is that this time Swerve mentally gives him the presumption of innocence before he starts judging.
Blurr does a lot of things that seem rude. He also does a lot of things that are actually rude and figuring them out without resorting to alien superpowers would be nearly impossible.
When the pilots see Blurr sitting right on the table while negotiating with investors, they roll their eyes and make comments about his terrible manners. Or when he stops showing up for even the most basic, rudimentary training.
Or when he develops that stupid habit of leaning his elbows on people standing next to him.
It's the model behavior of a rich, spoiled brat.
It's also an inconspicuous way to stay upright.
Employees say “that dumbass has never heard of personal space.”
Investors say, “I think he likes me.”
Blurr leans on Swindle's shoulder and through a charming smile says “Don't move or I'm gonna fall.”
Swindle also keeping up the smile discreetly holds him back, pretending it's a friendly half hug.
Swerve feels like yelling at both of them, but he's not sure what for exactly. For one thing, Blurr in his condition is very VERY VERY contraindicated to even get out of bed, let alone participate in social activities.
On the other hand, without Blurr, everything is going down the pit.
Without Blurr, all the government sees are dry reports and spreadsheets. Without him, all the high command has is numbers and a sense of impunity. Swerve is sickened by how easily people tend to forget that numbers represent other people.
Most pilots are able to draw a parallel between deteriorating working conditions and Blurr's sudden fondness for staying home instead of working. But they think the rich jerk got scared and ran away. Considering the way Blurr has always behaved at work - Swerve can't even judge them too much for it. They assume Shockwave getting more freedom is the cause of Blurr's absence, not the result.
Blurr's influence only becomes noticeable when it slowly starts to fade away. It's like switching from expensive tea to a cheaper one. The awful flavor only becomes noticeable in contrast.
Blurr doesn't lead the development of new technologies or go out to fight in the field. He doesn't make plans and reports, he doesn't participate in drills, he doesn't cover anyone's back in battle.
But he's the one who puts his hand on the government's shoulders when they're about to sign the next piece of paper. He's the one they have to look in the eye before they have a pen in their hands and a document authorizing Shockwave to stick more needles in people's brains.
It makes a difference. Small one. But still.
It turns a disembodied imaginary “combat units” into a tangible person.
From “do you want to accelerate the combat training of new soldiers” to “are you willing to tell the living, breathing guy standing in front of you that shoving poison under his skin is an idea you approve of.”
More importantly (And Swerve actually admires Swindle for this) Will you be able to explain anything to your families later on, when this same guy is on TV all over the country saying that's what you did to him?
There have been two fronts here all this time, Swerve realizes.
While the pilots were protecting people from monsters wearing teeth and armor, Blurr was protecting the pilots themselves from monsters wearing ties and lab coats.
After another conference, Shockwave stops Blurr in the hallway.
“Good show.”
Blurr laughs. Soundly and proudly.
“Thanks darling~ Sorry I interrupted you. Your speech sounded like something important, but I don't really know much about nerd stuff.”
Swerve, hiding on the ceiling again, snorts.
Shockwave doesn't move. Doesn't give any indication at all if he's offended or upset or whatever.
“It must have been hard getting here with your injuries.”
Blurr shrugs and lazily turns his head around distracted.
“It's just a few bruises here and there. Not the end of the world.”
Shockwave nods slowly. His voice and posture and all, Swerve thinks, looking very uncomfortable.
“Of course it isn't. But hardly good for your career.”
Blurr freezes.
No, Swerve thinks. Shit. No, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't listen to him, don't
“Your brilliant achievements have always been a source of admiration to me” continues Shockwave “it would be a pity to lose them.”
Blurr makes an indifferent face and tucks his hands into his pockets.
“Like I said. Not the end of the world.”
Swerve imagines choking Shockwave. Dropping a lamp on his head. Maybe jumping on top of him himself. Shut up, he thinks. Shut up, shut up, stop fucking talking.
Shockwave with a nice, slow gesture pulls out a notebook from somewhere and flips a couple pages.
“Multiple burns, cracked ribs, poisoning from carbon monoxide and combustion products of toxic chemicals...”
Blurr visibly shivers and looks away.
“...loss of vision on one side...” Shockwave continues reading, ”and partial hearing loss. Finally, the impact of neural link malfunctions. And this, if I'm not mistaken, is on top of the already existing memory problems?”
Shockwave takes a step closer. Not fast enough to make it look threatening, but enough to hover.
“It may not be the end of the world, but it is the end of you.”
He writes a set of numbers on the same page, tears it off, and hands it to Blurr.
“You are broken. I can fix you.”
Blurr frowns, but takes the piece of paper.
“That fixing would involve giving you consent to mess around with my head, wouldn't it? It's brave of you to think I'd go for that.”
Shockwave tucks the notepad into his pocket.
“I can assure you, neither I nor anyone else is interested in your brain. I just want to give you back what you're truly valued for.”
Blurr flinches.
“I don't need your help.”
“ If you say so,” Shockwave agrees easily. Nods, slowly and smoothly. Then starts to walk away “But you do need your fame.”
...
“By the way, you might want to wipe the blood off.”
Blurr waits until Shockwave's back disappears around the corner, then quickly pulls a tissue from his pocket and brings it up to his nose.
____________________________
Swerve wakes up looking up at the ceiling of his room. The high, metal ceiling, of a metal room on a metal spaceship.
Holy shit...
Jazz pokes him gently on the forearm
“Are you alive? You've been gone for like quite a while...Did it work?”
“Hey Jazz” frowns Swerve “what do you know about Blurr?”
Jazz laughs
“What are you fanboying over him again? Still??? Dude's smug and arrogant. Good boss though. I was hired to perform at his parties before I became a pilot.”
Swerve sits up and rubs the back of his head.
“Ah...”
“So it worked?”
“Wha...ah! Yes! Yes, it worked! I managed to get the number and codes from the space bridge the Quints used on you. We just need to find another space bridge and we'll have a pretty much direct route to Earth...well. Or rather, to the Quint ship that's located near Earth. You get the idea.”
Jazz rubs his hands together happily.
“I'll take it.”
Swerve jumps to the floor and heads to grab an energon cube. Man, these holoform exercises are burning energy like crazy.
He stares at his metal hands like an idiot for a couple minutes. Just...Contemplates how non-human they are.
He has eight fingers again instead of the human ten. Huh.
Prowl downloads the information he's gotten and immediately runs off to plan a route to the nearest working space bridge and for a while Swerve is just.
Left to himself.
He tries not to think about Blurr. What would he even say to him? Hey, look, I'm sorry I accidentally set you up, see, I'm actually an alien who was sleepwalking and thought you were fictional, surely this won't affect our non-existent strictly professional working relationship? Nah, screw that. If he's going to sound crazy, he needs to at least come up with a good presentation for his insanity.
....
Is it weird to think humans are beautiful if you're not human? If you're kind of human, but only in your soul and only half human?
He looks at Jazz and Prowl.
“You two get along really well.”
Jazz chuckles, sitting on Prowl's shoulder.
“Right now, yes. But we got on each other's nerves quite a bit when we first met.”
Swerve looks up at Jazz's chattering legs from his height and thinks. This is working somehow.
On the other hand, Jazz is the exception rather than the rule. He's friendly with everyone, he's easy to get along with, he's the soul of any company and most importantly, he was a little too much into robots before he discovered they could be alive. If anyone could find common ground with the Cybertronians, it would definitely be Jazz.
_____________________
”Are you a ghost?”
Swerve shrieks in fear and gets covered in static. He hadn't planned on talking. He hadn't planned on being noticed at all. Blurr was supposed to be asleep! And Swerve just wanted to close the curtains and leave, because there's some noisy party going on outside and bright illuminations are very bad for a patient already suffering from neural connection withdrawal.
He freezes in place like that dude from Jurassic Park. Like if he's still enough, he won't be noticed. Oh, or was that from another movie?
“I'm just uh” he awkwardly reaches up and closes the curtains “Lights. Bad for...you...now.”
Blurr chuckles. It sounds suspiciously joyful. His whole posture and facial expression. He looks very relaxed for someone who had a ghost materialize into the room out of thin air.
Swerve traces the line of the IV with his gaze. Oops, that looks like painkillers.
“Yes I am. Uh. A ghost watching the curtains. And now the curtains are fine, so I guess I'd better go?”
Blurr squints amusedly.
“You can walk through walls?”
“Uh, I can teleport into the next room?”
He backs up his words by making himself disappear and reappear in another corner of the room.
“Cool!” says Blurr cheerfully.
Swerve is involuntarily infected by his mood and makes a couple dramatic bows as if he were some kind of magician.
“ Show me more?”
“Hehehe okay eh” Swerve spreads his arms like he's presenting something and then makes himself the size of a soda bottle and teleports to the edge of Blurr's bed “Ta daaaa~”
“Wooooo look at you, you're like an action figure~”
Blurr immediately makes an attempt to touch him, but fails to reach and drops his hand back on the blanket.
Swerve chuckles and steps closer. It's funny to see the usually incredibly agile Blurr struggling with something so simple and ridiculous.
“They really drugged you huh?”
“It's not the drugs” snorts Blurr ”...it's my eye.”
He raises his hand once more and hesitantly pulls it towards Swerve until it bumps into his hair
“... depths Per…percen.. ah, shit. I can't tell how far away things are.”
Swerve just. Lets Blurr fidget at himself, while starting to feel really bad at the same time.
"If you can't tell how far things are, how are you going to drive?
Race???”
He must have a plan right? Something? Let’s-prove-Shockwave-wrong tactic???
Blurr drops his hands back on the blanket
“I won't.”
He freezes when the all too close fireworks rumble outside the window. Then points to his head.
“With this. I can't drive, I can barely walk at all, and I look like horror movie material. Pathetic heeh.”
Swerve sits down quietly cross-legged on the blanket.
“Well...at least you're alive....”
Blurr shakes his head.
“If I had died, it would have been epic. You know? Dharm...dramatic! It would be big news and everyone would be talking about what a hero I was or...or something...”
“...”
“Swindle would be so angry, but he'd figure out a way to make money out of it. He'd make a commercial about how people should be heroes. I'd be remn..remembered for being cool and brave and stuff.”
Fireworks can be heard from the street again. Swerve notices that there is a thin slit between the closed curtains through which a slim, flickering strip of multicolored light streams into the room.
Blurr frowns and leans back against the pillow, looking up at the ceiling.
“I've turned into a boring wreck. My records will be beaten, my career forgotten , and all the guys from work will remember me as a brat. In a--in a--in a way, it's worse than death. Shockwave's right.”
Swerve isn't sure what exactly would be an acceptable gesture of comfort, so he kind of just. Places his hand on the blanket covering Blurr's lap.
“Hey, don't say that. I think what you're doing is great.”
“Liar” smiles Blurr crookedly ”You hated me. I saw your posters collection.”
Oh shit. The ones he ripped off the walls and destroyed in a fit of fan frustration? He didn't even hide them, just shoved them in the back corner. Aw, man...
Swerve folds his arms awkwardly across his chest.
“I can be mad at you and think you're cool at the same time. I'm a multitasker.”
“You're a very specific kind of ghost.” says Blurr. Then, apparently inspired by the painkillers, decides to drop the conversational equivalent of an atomic bomb on Swerve's head “You died because of me?”
Swerve stiffens.
“I...Wwhat?”
“You know.” he makes a gesture with his hand that's ..unclear what it's supposed to mean. “You were working there with everyone else, and then there was that fire and I was sure I saw you down there under the rubble.”
He's silent for a couple seconds before he hesitantly continues
“And then no one could find you so most assumed you either burned or ran away. And now you're here with all your weird ghost stuff, so you must be dead.”
Swerve has.No idea what to think about it. And what to say? He's been so busy blaming himself for Blurr getting hurt that it hasn't occurred to him to think about what it looks like from Blurr's own perspective.
“Actually” says Swerve ”I'm an alien.”
“Heh” giggles Blurr ”sorry, my head’s all cloudy, I thought you said you were an alien.”
Swerve wants to run around and bang his head against the wall.
Instead, he gets up from the hospital bed. Carefully.
“You're high. I'm not going to explain things to you while you're high, you won't understand or remember them. Go back to sleep. It's the middle of the night.”
“You'll tell me later?”
Swerve hums quietly and pulls the curtains all the way closed.
“If future, sober Blurr would want my company.”
---------------
Jazz looks at him. Very intensely.
“Are you going to tell me who this mystery person you keep coming back to Earth for?”
Swerve snorts.
“What makes you think it's anyone in particular?”
“You're right, you're right~” raises his hands in surrender Jazz “So are you going to tell your friend the whole thing?”
Swerve crosses his ..metal arms over his metal chest.
“Is it that big of a deal? He thinks I'm a ghost or something.”
Being a ghost...somehow better, he thinks. If you're a ghost, it kind of automatically implies you're human. Or was a human.
“Sooner or later, he'll put the facts together~” says Jazz in a chant.
Swerve laughs.
“That's unlikely. He's got a pretty bad memory.”
_______________
His plans to stay out of anyone's sight combust with a dramatic pop the next time he projects himself to Earth. He doesn't plan to interfere, he doesn't even plan to linger. He just wants to see what's going on.
He actually just quietly sneaks into the hospital to make sure nothing's happened to Blurr since last time, but when he finally finds him then...oh shit, is that Pharma in the same room with him??? This can't be good.
They don't speak, but Pharma has clearly locked his eyes on Blurr and starts making his way towards him with the relentlessness of a industrial metal press.
Swerve does some rough math in his head. If he briefly gives his holoform back its detail and voice, will that be enough to fry his processor? He's not sure.
Pharma gives a believable impression of a shark getting close. The staff, as if sensing something untoward is about to happen, leaves the room in a hurry.
Blurr looks indifferent, but Swerve's attention is drawn to the way he squints tensely. Man, the lamps are too bright in here.
Pharma smiles sweetly and reaches out for a handshake
“Mind some company?”
Swerve's mental processes fly out the window. Oh no no. Not Pharma. Not in his fucking fanfic. He quickly changes his work clothes into a slightly more business-like looking shirt. Thinks for just a moment and adds a cap to his head to blend in more strongly with the attendants and hide his face to an extent. And then projects himself around the nearest unoccupied corner and runs out of behind it looking as anxious as he feels.
“Blurr!!! Sir, there you are!!! I've been looking everywhere for you!”
Pharma wants to say something, but Swerve doesn't even let him start. He stands in front of Blurr separating him and Farma expressively waves his hands trying to keep his head down.
“The guys you were talking about didn't bring the new hydraulics! It's a disaster, we'll have to use the one on the old models!”
Blurr, to his surprise, backs up his act almost instantly
“Really? But I thought there was nothing to take from the old models?”
“That's exactly the point! I got the paperwork this morning and...oh those assholes are going to screw it up if you don't step in as soon as possible!”
Pharma tilts his head
“Can it wait? We were actually talking here!”
Oh no, thinks Swerve I'll show you who's talking.
“Sir, no offense but this is a matter of extreme urgency. Are you implying that the safety of your patients is not important?”
“What do you mea...”
“Old faulty hydraulics, that's what you want?” raises an eyebrow in horror Blurr.
“No I'm just...”
“I had a better opinion of you, to be honest.”
“I...” opens his mouth Pharma “...WHAT...?”
Swerve shakes his head.
“And I thought his profession was to help people, can you imagine?”
“Wh..”
Blurr rolls his eye.
“Any idiot can get an important position these days.”
“Wait..”
“Tell me about it. Especially doctors.”
Pharma looks like he's about to start pulling the hair out of his head.
“Can at least one of you shut up??”
Swerve adjusts his cap in a businesslike manner
“Sir, I understand you're a bit detached from reality spending so much time in your department, but you need to take better care of your reputation.”
He raises his eyebrows knowingly
“Wouldn't want the rumors about you to turn out to be true. You know what I mean?”
Pharma doesn't even answer anymore. Pharma just looks like a discarded fish.
“…..Wha....there's rumors?”
“Of course” shrugs Swerve ”Ask Norman, he usually knows everything about everyone. And about your interesting tricks with safety, too.”
He leans in conspiratorially, effectively pulling all of Farma's attention to himself
“So if I were you, I'd stay out of any more things you don't understand.”
Pharma wants to say something. Swerve can tell by the look in his eyes. Pharma tries to come up with a witty and context-appropriate response, but this whole conversation has no more context than a typical episode of Teletubbies.
“Where does this Norman guy work?” finally finds the ground beneath his feet Pharma
Swerve shrugs.
“Block C, if he hasn't been transferred yet. He's already been fined several times for spreading harmful information you know? The guy can't keep a secret.”
Pharma throws his hands up angrily and storms away. Probably looking for context. Or revenge.
A quiet cough sounds behind Swerve's back.
“So. Should I be worried about Norman's health?”
Swerve feels the hair on the back of his neck shiver and slowly turns to face Blurr while still looking somewhere on the floor.
“Uh...only if you're concerned about the fate of fictional characters. I made up Norman's wife, she'll be upset if he gets fired for gossiping.”
Blurr chuckles. Then goes silent. Then, after a couple seconds, starts laughing again. That's a good look for him, Swerve thinks. It's not like Blurr's usual velvet-smooth laugh that he uses at social events. It's more like a quick, jerky giggle, and in Swerve's subjective opinion, it's pretty damn cute. He can't help but grin.
Blurr snorts one last time, cutting off the laughter.
Then he reaches out his hand to him.
Swerve reaches back, expecting a handshake, but Blurr ignores his hand and instead goes for his cap and lifts it by the brim.
Swerve, not expecting this, freezes with his hand outstretched.
Blurr freezes as well, still holding the cap in his hand and looking...like he's rethinking his life. A little.
Ugh, and how to explain it all to him....
“Uh...you...uh...probably don't remember me. I...it's...”
Blurr shifts his gaze from Swerve to the cap in his hand. Then back to Swerve.
“You're real???”
Swerve awkwardly waves his hands in front of him
“Ah not.., not really. Do you know why Pharma was looking for you in the first place? He doesn't work with patients anymore, he's been reassigned to the research department, right?”
Blurr shrugs.
“Last time I saw him, he said I might have implant rejection in the third ..uh..what? stage? or something? I think he's trying to get me in for a checkup.”
Swerve twitches.
“Third??? How are you still standing???”
He then quickly reaches up with both hands to Blurr's head and tilts it so he can see his face better. Using one thumb, he pulls his lower eyelid slightly and mentally catalogs. Temperature normal, pupil normal, eyes are steady, no darkening or trace of blood on the eyelid. Implants? He puts both palms up and gently feels the places behind Blurr's ears. No signs of rejection or malfunction.
“No no no” sighs Swerve ”You're fine, it's only stage two. I mean, second sucks too, migraines and all, but you just need to rest and no bright lights and...” he finally notices his hands are still on Blurr's head and pulls them back as fast as if he's been burned ”I MEAN I'm uh...sorry, I didn't mean to, I...”
Blurr laughs quietly.
“I'm glad you're back.”
_____________________
He wakes up in his quarters and can feel his face burning.
When he goes out to get the energon, Jazz throws him a look.
“Is something wrong? You're all kinda...shaky.”
“Hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuuuu” imitates signs of life Swerve “Say, doesn't it bother you that Prowl isn't human?”
Jazz smiles
“ Oh, I went crazy when I found out. But we figured it out.”
“Like...on a scale from ‘bad grade in school’ to ‘an asteroid is coming to Earth’ how crazy was it?”
“Worried about what your human friends will think?”
Swerve swings back and forth on his heels
“Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff. Whatnooooo, no of course not. I'd be worried if I planned on telling them at all.”
Jazz frowns
“No offense, but keeping secrets isn't your strong suit.”
“Haha” Swerve waves his servo “ Watch me.”
#maccadam#tf mecha universe#blurr#Swerve#mecha writing#mecha kef writing#mecha bs writing#if you saw any mistakes - no you didn’t#it’s six am I need to go to bed but I wanted to post it before my brain shuts down completely#mecha pilot jazz au#jazzprowl#jazzprowl happens on the background lol#Swindle#two nano seconds of Vortex#Shockwave#Pharma
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Hi Xae, have a good new year, I wanted to ask you if you could write about Kang Dae-ho (player 388) from Squid Game 2, where the reader joins Gihun's team and even though it's only been a few hours, she and Dae-ho already have chemistry and Dae-ho tells Gihun's friend how pretty the reader is, making him a little angry and calling him a fool in love, ty ❤!
-🦊
Kang Dae-Ho/Player 388 - Fool in love
Synopsis: You and Dae-ho get along within the first second you meet - maybe it's meant to be?
A/N: Finally dropping this !! Dae-ho is so cutie and I love him sm
Warning: none !!
A game where death is lurking right around the corner is enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine. Especially yours. You only came here because you needed the money but you weren't confident that you'd be willing to die for it. The idea that you might die soon made you utterly afraid. You had a family that you'd most definitely like to go home to but most of the other players seemed far too keen to stay in this hell and it meant you were stuck there with them too.
On a more fortunate note, there seemed to be a previous winner amidst the hundreds of other players and you'd be damned if you didn't rely on someone who knew what he was doing. If he really was a winner, then he could predict the games. Maybe then you'd actually have a chance of getting out alive and with a lot of money.
“Hi. You're the guy from earlier who said that he played this before, right?” You ask as you stand in front of player 456. You thought maybe being his ally would make you feel better but, with the way he looked up at you, he was actually kind of scary. It's like his face had been frozen into a hard glare. Though, to be fair, he was apparently the sole survivor of the game he played so he must have suffered plenty of losses. You suppose you'd look that unhappy too if you lost people you cared about.
He gives you a nod as the other people sitting around look at you too. They looked a lot less terrifying than him which made you feel a bit better. “I was wondering if maybe I could stick with you guys? I don't really want to be on my own and, since you've played these games before, you can help, right?” you ask with a hopeful look. You were really hoping that they'd be welcoming to you.
“Mm? Who are you?” Someone suddenly speaks and, when you look towards the voice, you see a boy with food stuffed in his mouth peeking out from around the corner. His eyes briefly widen when he sees you properly before he quickly puts his food down and jumps off the bed. “Of course, you can stick with us,” he says rather eagerly as the three men behind him give him a strange look.
“Ah, really? Thank you,” you say with a nervous grin as he practically pushes you to sit down. You honestly didn't expect to be welcomed with such open arms. Actually, maybe that wasn't really a team decision but you didn't complain because now you had a team who could protect you and that you could hopefully trust.
“So, who are you?” He asks as he grabs his food from the bed before he sits down beside you with his legs crossed. He looked genuinely interested to know everything about you and it made your heartbeat a little faster. He was cute. That was for sure. So to have his eyes on you was certainly making you slightly nervous. You cleared your throat before introducing yourself as you tried to maintain eye contact with him.
He repeats your name as if testing out how it sounds when said from his own mouth. After a slight pause, he gives a slight nod of approval before speaking up again. “I'm Dae-ho. Kang Dae-ho,” he says with a smile. In all honesty, he had never seen someone as pretty as you. You really captivated his attention. He felt like he couldn't take his eyes off you.
“Kang Dae-ho,” you repeat quietly as you engrave the name into your mind. “That's a nice name,” you say with a small smile and he smiles too. “It's supposed to mean big tiger. Kang means big and Dae-ho means tiger,” he explains before taking a bite of his food.
“Big tiger? You don't look very big,” you say with a small smile, teasing him slightly. He swallowed down his food before responding to your comment. “Wha-? I'm big! I was a marine,” he says with a proud smirk. You look at him and down and raise an eyebrow to send a clear message that you didn't believe him one bit.
“No, I'm serious!” He says before pulling his sleeve up to reveal his tattoo. “See?” He says as he makes sure you get a good look at it. “C'mon, anyone could get that tattooed on their arm,” you say and he immediately shakes his head in denial.
“You still don't believe me? Maybe I need to show you my strength then,” he says with a small smile before throwing some gentle punches at you. You laugh at his actions as you two play fight - something that captures the attention of the other three that were sitting around. They look at you two before exchanging a glance between each other then looking away and trying to act as if you and Dae-ho aren't clearly forming some sort of chemistry right now.
The next few hours you had spent exclusively with Dae-ho talking about every little thing. You opened up to him about why you were in these games and what you had gone through and he listened so intently, it made your heart race. You swear your brain would short circuit when he looked at you with that look. When his head was tilted and his eyes said all the words he wanted to say with his mouth.
You couldn't believe you were crushing on a guy you just met. Sure, he was a good listener, funny, strong, nice, and everything else that makes someone perfect but you couldn't just fall in love with him. Hell, you're both in a game of death! One of you could die tomorrow so you really shouldn't be letting your heart race at 100 miles per hour just because he's cute.
Before the both of you knew it, there was already five minutes until lights out and you'd all have to go to sleep to have energy for tomorrow’s game. You looked over at Dae-ho before speaking up. “Dae-ho, I'll be back. I'm just going to use the restroom,” you say with a small smile. When he nods his head, you wave before walking off quickly towards the door. He watched as you knocked on it before having it opened by a guard and then promptly disappearing round the corner.
He let out a sigh before turning around and walking over to Jung-bae. You were so pretty. He honestly couldn't believe you were real. Maybe his brain had made you up as a coping mechanism? You were just so perfect in his eyes. Everything he could possibly want. God, he'd love to take you to dinner sometime when both of you get out of this place so he can give you the love and attention you deserve. He just wished that he could cover your face in kisses for hours on end and hold your hand while taking a walk together. He didn't care if it was cliche. It didn't matter because it was for you.
He finally made it to Jung-Bae and took a seat next to him quietly. He shifted slightly to rest his chin on his hand and waited for Jung-Bae to ask what was on his mind. It was quiet for a few moments as Jung-bae chose to pretend like Dae-ho definitely didn’t have anything to say about you so Dae-ho made the quick decision to let out another sigh- this time much louder to catch Jung-bae’s attention and force him to ask what's on his mind.
Jung-bae turns to look at him with slight annoyance. “What? Don't just sit there and sigh. What is it?” Jung-bae asks as Dae-ho turns to look at him with a shy smile. “She’s so pretty,” he says with his face flushed slightly red, embarrassed that he was fawning over you like this. “Huh?” Jung-bae responds, confused about what he was talking about.
“Her. She’s so pretty. She has the most amazing laugh and the cutest smile and-” Dae-ho begins to speak before receiving a smack over the back of his head making him shut up. The smile on his face drops as he looks at Jung-bae like a confused puppy.
“You're such a fool. You just met her a few hours ago,” he says as he shakes his head in disapproval. Dae-ho laughs nervously as he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I guess.. but still. She's so perfect,” he says in poor defense.
He hears the door open and his head snaps towards it immediately. He was hoping it was you because he already missed talking to you, even if it's only been a few minutes since you left for the bathrooms. When he sees you, he quickly smiles and, if he was a dog, anyone would see his tail wagging back and forth. Jung-bae let out a sigh and shook his head like some father who was disappointed in his son.
“You're planning to ask her out, aren't you?” He says only to get an immediate response.
“absolutely,”
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people who (seriously) insist pluto is a planet, or who get upset when it's pointed out it isn't, are perhaps less like people angry about dinosaurs having feathers (though I would argue they are are both really doing that for the same reason - 'not my childhood definition') and more like people who insist on an antibiotic for a viral infection
the labels are human given, both for space bodies and microbial bodies, and neither viruses nor bacteria can even be seen with the naked eye, their size difference is negligible compared to to humans, and thus 'as far as anyone can tell' they are interchangeable except that a few experts insisted on changing labels
#though really I think the 'change from childhood' is the real reason people are pissed#justification comes afterward#and a bunch are in it for the meme#even if everyone was serious and we asked 42K random people to vote on pluto's status#I would still take the 424 experts#I can't find any exact info on who voted or if the resolutions were by a special committee (which often happens)#there were 2500 astronomers participating though so it wasn't just put to popular vote#also (fav part) the people leading the 'controversies' are A) heading a NASA mission to Pluto#and B) the guy who discovered Eris#none of the petitions to change it have gained enough signatures#(I have put too much time into reading up on this yet again - I apparently have a thing about labels#and people refusing to accept them because it is impossible to label the natural world neatly)#we do our best and we update the definitions of our labels or split them apart or merge them together when we discover we are wrong#...at least when we are too wrong for it to work correctly#regardless if it breaks a childhood factoid
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#vent#cw for animal death if you read through this#just feel like i have to ramble about this. somewhere. but everyone's asleep rn and i don't wanna randomly pop into someones messages#so to yell at the void in the tags i go#but one of my dogs died today. or yesterday technically. idk it's 4am rn and my sleep schedule's fucked#but yeah. apparently he passed away in his sleep. teddy bear's gone.#which like. shouldn't be that surprising since he was like 13 years old#and he was a maltese and yorkie mix and both of them live to be about 13. he was a little old man#but none of us really expected to lose him before we lost susie who's a little over a year older than him and his mom#and also has been having some health issues. nothing major or serious but enough to be kinda concerning with how old she is#but teddy was perfectly fine. didn't have any issues at all#but i was helping my brother get ready for school and was about to go and watch for the bus#and we were passing by the couch that he loved to sleep on and it just looked like he was asleep on a pillow#and my brother went to pet him and immediately noticed that he was cold#and yeah. a while after that my dad put him in a box and now he's buried in front of the well we have in our backyard#and it's just been kinda hitting me in waves all day#like i'll be fine and then i'll realize he's gone and then i'm fine and then i'll remember what he looked like on the couch#before we realized#and i'm kinda surprised it's affecting me this badly? like. idk. when i lost my cat orange a couple of years ago#who i had since i was like 2 i didn't react like this at all#like of course i was still sad and i miss her but. idk.#maybe it's because there wasn't any build up? like with orange we knew something was wrong#and had a couple of weeks knowing something was wrong and she might not live before she died#and also i didn't see it. my parents were there when she was put down by the vet but i didn't go#but with teddy. i saw the body. thought he was just asleep until my brother tried to pet him#so i guess maybe those combined is why? idk#grief just never. hit me this much this quickly before#also sucks to know we're probably going to be losing susie soon too#we're planning on getting another dog so louisa won't be alone when it happens#she's been with teddy and susie her whole life. we don't want her to be lonely without them so we want to get her a friend
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A Week (He Will Take You)
~
Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.
This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.
Anyway
This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,
They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.
They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.
Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.
Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.
In other words they were stuck in Gotham
Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.
Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,
Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.
You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.
Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.
But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.
"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"
This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.
"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"
That was it.
The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.
But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,
Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.
The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty
Like no one had been living in it.
People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.
Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.
~
Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"
Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "
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Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"
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Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."
Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."
Bruce: "Hn."
Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"
~
Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"
Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"
~
Just an Idea
#glowy-death-ideas#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#batman#danny fenton#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#prompt fill#story prompt#prompts#writing prompt#dp#ghost#ghosts#dp x dc
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Yours, Mine, Ours
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader
wc: 1.5k words
warnings/tags: fluff
“So did the other two actually say no or did you just never invite them?”
“‘Course I invited them, you asked me to, so I did.” Simon replies with ease, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead of him. “They’re smart lads, lovie, they knew to say no all by themselves.”
You shake your head at him in disbelief but the smile that’s been plastered across your face ever since the two of you pulled out of your flat’s parking doesn’t budge. Simon’s been driving for a few hours now, and as stressful of an experience as that is alone, you’re too excited to mind the long journey in the car.
Simon is on leave for the next two weeks, something about Price having to attend a funeral following a death in the family, and deciding that everyone on the force was due for a bit of time off. Seeing as the Captain was going to be preoccupied during his time off duty, he had asked if Simon wouldn’t mind checking in on his house for him, making sure things were alright. He’d even offered for the two of you to stay in the guest room for the duration of their leave.
Simon had explained how Price knew that the two of you were living in a small flat in London, and apparently his home was in a beautiful, forested, isolated area which meant he had essentially no neighbours, something he also knew would appeal to Simon. He offered for the two of you to stretch your legs out there at enjoy the property, including the privacy that came with it.
Wanting to be polite, you’d told Simon he should extend the invitation to Soap and Gaz, thinking they might enjoy a nice, quiet stay-cation as well at their Captain’s place away from it all. It would appear your lover had different ideas in mind however. Though you couldn’t blame him entirely, the thought of having the cozy cabin all to yourselves was certainly more appealing.
Every which way you look outside the car, your vision is filled by endless blurry trees as you zoom by, the colours of the leaves having finally changed into the warmer, more vibrant colour palette that came along with the autumn chill. If the drive up to his property was any indication of how beautiful the area really was, then you were in for quite the treat.
Entranced by the beauty of the landscape in comparison to the city lights you’ve grown so used to, you fail to notice the glances Simon keeps sneaking your way, the smallest of satisfied smiles seemingly permanently etched upon his face beneath his balaclava. He was grateful that after explaining the situation and Price’s generous offer to you, you had been too excited to ask many questions, instead getting a jump start on packing a duffel bag or two.
You were one of the most intelligent, clever, curious people he’d ever known, and it was normally quite difficult to get anything by you. He was therefore feeling rightfully proud of himself as he drove you nearer and nearer to the home you believed belonged to his Captain. In actuality, there was no funeral for Price to attend, the sergeants had certainly not been invited along on your getaway, and the home you’d be staying in wasn’t Price’s.
It was yours.
Yours, and Simon’s.
The two of you had been living in that shoebox of a flat he’d considered as ‘satisfactory’ when he was only staying there as a bachelor, for far too long. As ideal as the location might have been, there simply just wasn’t enough space for two people to live together, even considering Simon’s absences for work and that fact that when he was home, you two were essentially always on top of one another anyways.
You’d both been searching for a new flat for what felt like ages now, none of the places you visited feeling like the right fit. Simon would be weary about a certain neighborhood, you’d be concerned with the lack of any balcony or outdoor space, he’d ignore the price tag that felt your eyes bulging, and you’d shake your head as you walked through doorways that had him needing to duck down.
Little did you know, Simon had been doing his own house hunting, outside of the city. You had told Simon you were fine with staying in London, understanding that it’s convenient to have everything near by. But Simon didn’t want to give you just ‘fine’. He wanted to give you a home. The home he intends to spend the rest of his life with you in, plans on carrying you over the threshold in your wedding dress, hopes to carry sleeping newborns in their car seats through the door.
For months now, Simon has subtlety been learning more about what that home looked like to you. He’d look over your shoulder as you scrolled through Pinterest, casually asking if you could show him your boards, you know just for fun, and paid very close attention when you showed him the one named ‘future house’. On his phone, he had a list a mile long in his notes app, from secretly writing down every comment you made while watching your home reno shows. He’ll casually ask you what you think of the houses you drive by, jotting down your answers in his mind, remembering likes and dislikes.
He believes that like you, it’s the people filling the home that matter more than the structure itself, as proven by the way you continue to put up with his minuscule flat. He knows you mean it when you say you’re alright with another flat. But he has the money goddammit, he has the means to do this for you, and when the listing came up for a home in what you’d revealed as being your ideal area to settle down in one day, the house resembling the amalgamation of everything he believed you’d described as being your perfect place, he knew he had to put an offer in.
And if there ever was anything about the house you didn’t like or wanted to change, he’d gladly do it for you, no questions asked. You want to paint the bedroom? Just tell him what colour you want. You want to change the railing on the wrap around porch? He’s on his way to the hardware store already. You need him to dig a stump out of the backyard to make room for your garden? Sit back and enjoy the show lovie, he’s on it. And when the time comes to build a crib? Well he may as well baby proof the whole house while he’s at it too.
He’s pictured your reaction a thousand times over in his mind. He imagines you’ll maybe give a small gasp when he turns the corner of the long driveway and you first see the cozy, two-storey home, surrounded by never-ending foliage of red, orange, and yellow leaves, the time of year perfect for appreciating autumn in the UK, as well as the privacy the tall trees grant you. He thinks the first thing you’ll comment on will likely be the windows, an item high on your priority list he knew to adhere to.
He imagines you kicking off your boots as you step through the door, pace quickening to explore every room, spinning in the kitchen as you joke about how jealous you are of Price. He pictures you groaning with envy when you spot your dream master bathroom, insisting to Simon that since you’d been tasked with checking in on the home you may as well see every room, right? He plans to explain away the obvious sparseness of the home as the Captain not having lived here long, as being very non-materialistic after all his years in service.
He’ll continue to play along for as long as he can, part of him knowing that you know him well enough that you’re likely to catch onto his deception at some point. However he hopes that before you start rummaging through kitchen cabinets and find them empty, too empty even for an absentee captain of a homeowner, that you’ll mention something along the lines of wishing you could stay here longer. That’s when he plans to slip a key into the palm of your hand, revealing that you might be able to stay longer than you believe.
The small piece of metal that’ll unlock the rest of your lives together, sits heavy in his pocket, in contrast to the light feeling in his heart when his hand reaches across the dashboard to grab a hold of yours, knowing that the content, lovesick smile you offer him is likely stretched across his face as well, staring right back at you.
Though you’re unaware that Simon is currently driving towards your home, and not away from it, you’re gently stroking the scarred skin across his hand, feeling as though your home is sitting right next to you, holding your hand and your heart at the same time.
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon ghost riley#simon riley#cod fanfic#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#cod simon ghost riley#cod simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon fluff#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley fluff#simon ghost fluff#ghost x you#ghost fanfic#call of duty ghost#ghost cod#ghost#readwritealldayallnight
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