#sequel to hounds of justice

[let-me-love-you-loki]

An Ending Within--Ch. 21

Chapter 21

           “I’m tired,” I mumbled as I stood up and stretched. It felt like I’d been sitting at that table for days. “I need to take a walk.”

           Sammy Guevara glanced up from the photograph he was signing. We’d been doing a meet-and-greet before Dynamite for the last two hours. It was still a little insane to me that people paid to have their picture with me and get an autograph.

           “Don’t take too long,” he said, glancing at his watch. “There’s only thirty minutes left.”

           For a moment, I wanted to kick him. But I’d been wearing my brace consistently since my match with Jon. Stupid Sammy wasn’t worth the extra pain and discomfort.

           “I’m only going to take a lap around the room, dipshit,” I said under my breath. Sammy smirked. I turned toward the people waiting in my line. “I just need to move around guys. Mox jacked up my knee. The loser. I’ll be back in five.”

           A few people grumbled, but I was already wobbling toward the other end of the room. The outside of my leg was numb. It had been messed up in one way or another for the last few weeks. Jon had been worried so much that I’d wanted to smack him. He worried more than Seth. And of course, neither of us had let on to my husband that my leg was acting up like this again.

           Taking my time, I looped around the room once. I stopped every ten steps or so and flexed my knee and wriggled my toes as much as I could. The numbness began to give way to pins and needles. My heart skipped a beat and then relaxed. A huge wave of relief washed over me. Still, I made a mental note to set up an appointment with Dr. Thurman. If I was going to go crazy in the ring, maybe it would be a good idea to get a bit of maintenance physical therapy. I just had to figure out how to tell Seth.

           “Okay,” I said as I plopped back down in my chair. A teenage girl stood at the front of the line. “I’m only talking to people who hate Jon Moxley.”

           The girl grinned and unrolled a neon green poster. Giant black block letters spelled out a message that made me cackle in a way that would make Seth proud.

           Jon Moxley fears Leighton Black.

***

           “How’s the leg?” Tony Khan asked as we passed in the hallway.

           I flexed my foot and bent my knee a few times. “On my way to see Doc.”

           “Good. If Doc clears you, I’ve got a match for you against Statlander. And we gotta build up your rematch against Jon.”

           Before I could reply, laughter echoed down the hallway. I didn’t need to feel the frenetic energy overwhelming the air to know it was Jon. What I didn’t expect was the crackle of electricity along my skin and the warm salt scent of the ocean. Turning to see Seth and Roman walking side-by-side with Jon sent me barreling backward in time to the early days of The Shield. Those early days when the Hounds gathered around me. My heart jumped up into my throat. Tears burned behind my eyelids.

           “What are you doing here?” I gasped.

           Roman’s deep rumble washed over me. “Surprise, itiiti.”

           Joy lanced through me so quickly that it knocked the breath from my body. I was running before I registered moving. Roman held out his arms and snatched me against his chest. I snaked my arms around his neck and hooked my heels behind his knees.

           “Once a Hound, always a Hound,” he murmured against my hair. “It’s time we came to support you.”

           I swallowed nervously. Time to bite the bullet. But at least I could honestly say it was pins and needles now. Normal coming and going of sensation like I’d had for years now.

           “I was just on my way to see Doc Sampson for the all clear.” Roman set me gently on my feet. “If he says go, I’ve got a match tonight.”

           Jon’s brow furrowed. “Against who?”

           A grin spread over my face. “Your girl Statlander.”

           Seth turned to look at Jon with a smirk. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Your girl? You’ve already dropped Llane?”

           “Fuck you,” Jon said as he thumped Seth hard in the shoulder. He pushed his way past Roman and hooked his arm around my neck. He tucked me in close and gave me a fierce kiss on my head. “Dollface here is the only girl for me. Period.”

           I laughed and put my arm around his waist. “Don’t let Renee hear you say that.”

           Jon shrugged. “She already knows. When it comes to this business, you’re it for me, dollface. Names might change, but we’re Lunatic Llane for good.”

           A door opened at the end of the hallway. “Leighton? Let me get a look at you. Tony needs to know if you’re cleared so he can block the show.”

           Giving Jon one last squeeze, I skipped out of his hold and moved between Seth and Roman. My husband brushed his fingertips along my arm as I walked by. Something like peace and calm slipped along my spine.

***

           When I left Doc Sampson’s trainer’s room, I was more than a little surprised to see a cluster of people just down the hall. The Bucks and Adam Page leaned against the wall with Jon, Seth, and Roman across from them. Chris Jericho was tucked in there, too. Nick Jackson looked up as I got closer. He smiled, and a warm sensation rushed through my heart. My old family joining with the new one.

           “You sure you guys don’t want seats? If you aren’t comfortable with ringside then we can get you a box or something. Somewhere you won’t be seen. And definitely won’t be on camera.” Matt Jackson spoke earnestly to Seth and Roman. I could see what he was trying to do, but I knew without a doubt that it wouldn’t work.

           Seth shook his head, a wry smile on his face. “Thanks, Matt. I mean it. But we’re risking our careers enough just being here.”

           “Seriously?” Adam asked, his voice awash with incredulity.

           Jon grunted. “You have no idea what it’s like over there.”

           “Vince isn’t one for disloyalty. Hell, he swore he’d never speak to me again after I jumped ship to AEW. And he is petty,” Jericho added. “If he finds out that they’re here, he’ll bury them as punishment.”

           My heart jumped into my throat as those words slipped into my brain. “What? You both have to go. Right now,” I squeaked. “Leave. Now.”

           Roman pulled me into a hug. He tucked my head just beneath his chin. “Not a chance, itiiti.”

           “But Vince—”

           “Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?” Roman teased. I felt the chuckle rumble through his chest. His heart beat steadily beneath my ear. “My family helped keep that company alive more than once. Let him try to fire me. If he does, he’s going to have to deal with Sika, Dwayne, and Rakishi.”

           “Ro, you know how vindictive he is.” Worry bled into my body, seeping through into my voice. “If you two get in trouble because of me, I’ll murder both of you.”

           The hallway echoed with the sound of Seth’s laugh. “Don’t worry about us, baby. We’ll be fine. Promise.”

           “Both of you are insane,” I said, wiggling out of Roman’s hold to move closer to Seth. He leaned over to press a kiss against my forehead.

           “I promise. Plus, I have another excuse,” he said with a smile.

           “Tina!” came my favorite voice in the world. “Mamma! Mamma!”

           Sefina came barreling down the hallway with a huge grin on her face. She had a handful of what looked like Sour Patch Kids in one fist. Brandi Rhodes had her other hand and rushed along just behind my daughter.

           I squatted down and held out my arms to her. She yanked her hand from Brandi’s hold and dropped her snacks on the floor as she threw her arms around my neck. I held onto her tight and pressed one kiss after another over her cheeks and forehead.

           “Hi, sweetie!” My whole body felt bright and happy at the sight of my daughter there. She hadn’t seen me wrestle since I moved to AEW. “What are you doing here?”

           “Tama and uso brought me!” Her dark eyes were bright and there was a faint blush over her cheeks. “I want to watch you!”

           That burning behind my eyes came again as I tucked my daughter’s hair behind her ear and looked up at Seth. “Well, that’s good because mommy has a match tonight. Do you want to go meet her?”

           Sefina giggled and nodded. I hooked my arms around her and stood up. She held on tight as I walked through the gaggle of people and went off toward Kris Statlander’s locker room. I was sure my daughter would love her alien gimmick.

_________________________

Tag List

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[power-chords]

WB has been hounding Mann for a finished script and based on every reputable source, they're eager to make it happen. The book was a hit that topped the bestseller list, it's the sequel to an iconic and influential crime film whose legacy has only strengthened with time, and I'm sure they already knew he would request a significant budget to do the story justice. I'm still hopeful it will begin filming next year.

[jules-has-notes]

Queen in 5 Minutes — VoicePlay music video

The late, great Freddie Mercury is often quoted as having said, "Do anything you want with my music, but never make me boring." VoicePlay certainly took that sentiment to heart for this medley of memorable Queen songs, as well as the dramatic visual tale they made to go along with it. A battle for Earl's (after)life plays out in a suitably theatrical setting. Who will win?

Details:

title: Queen in 5 Minutes

original songs / performers: all songs by Queen — "Bohemian Rhapsody"; [0:32] "Play The Game"; [0:54] "Somebody To Love"; [1:20] "We Are The Champions"; [2:20] "Another One Bites The Dust"; [2:37] "We Will Rock You"; [2:45] "Under Pressure" with David Bowie; [2:52] "I Want to Break Free"; [3:14] "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy"; [3:32] "Play the Game" reprise; [3:48] "Bohemian Rhapsody" reprise; [4:16] "Radio Ga Ga"; [4:21] "The Show Must Go On"; [4:45] "Don't Stop Me Now"

written by: "Bohemian Rhapsody", "Play The Game", "Somebody To Love", & "We Are The Champions" by Freddie Mercury; "Another One Bites The Dust" by John Deacon; "We Will Rock You" by Brian May; "Under Pressure" by Queen & David Bowie; "I Want to Break Free" by John Deacon; "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy" by Freddie Mercury; "Radio Ga Ga" by Roger Taylor; "The Show Must Go On" by Brian May; "Don't Stop Me Now" by Freddie Mercury

arranged by: Layne Stein & Eli Jacobson

release date: 23 November 2018

My favorite bits:

recreating that iconic Bohemian Rhapsody intro

J.None's fantastic control, flipping between chest and head voice as he extracts Earl's heart 🫀 ⚖️

that smooth scoop from Earl on ⇗ ♫ "take a loooOOOK" ♫ ⇗

Geoff going full Chris Cornell at the start of "We Are the Champions" before dropping back into the underworld

J.None shoving the sword into Layne's hands to get him more involved as he sings about ♫ "fighting til the end" ♫

Eli's busting out that rock grit for "We Will Rock You"

Layne beatboxing the iconic stomp-stomp-clap rhythm rather than breaking viewers' immersion in the scene

Earl repelling everyone through the power of belting

the dismissive face Geoff makes at Eli as he continues the "Under Pressure" bass line into "I Want to Break Free" (a more serious take on the "Ice Ice Baby" bit from their "Old School Rap" medley)

Earl's plaintive vulnerability during "Lover Boy" solidifying into defiance for the return to "Bohemian Rhapsody"

the backing vocals pleading with Earl to ♫ "play the game" ♫ so they can guide him onward

ramping up into full concert mode as they form a line at the front of their "stage"

high tenor air guitar! 🎸

Eli and J's subtle counterpoint line from "Radio Ga Ga"

using "The Show Must Go On" to signal Earl's decision to return to the world of the living

Trivia:

○ The man in the hospital framing scenes is Earl's husband, Nick. He has appeared on screen in a few VoicePlay videos, as well as doing production work on many more.

○ The four avatars of death come from various religious traditions:

Guardian (Layne) is an anthropomorphized version of Cerberus from Greek mythology, the multi-headed hound (hence the fur coat) who protects the gates of Hades.

Anubis (J.None) is the guardian of the dead and assessor of souls in the Egyptian pantheon, often depicted as a jackal.

Yama Nirvana (Eli) represents the Hindu god Yama, responsible for death, justice, and punishment of sinners in the afterlife.

Baron (Geoff) is an interpretation of the spirit Baron Samedi, master of the dead and resurrection in Haitian Vodou.

○ The guys' distinctive makeup and wardrobe were designed by artist Leon King. Of the four, J.None's costume changed the most from concept to execution, but each of them was tweaked a bit.

○ Leon also drew the central pendant element for the cover art.

○ The YouTube description includes the inscription, "We humbly dedicate this video to the music and memory of Freddie Mercury. The show must go on."

○ Some fans have embraced a headcanon that this video is a sequel to "Panic! in 4 Minutes". They theorize that Earl is in the hopital because he was injured by the explosion, and the avatars of death are manifesting as his bandmates within his unconscious mind. This hasn't been confirmed or denied by any members of VoicePlay, but it's a fun idea.

○ This video reached a million views on YouTube the following August.

○ The streaming audio version is split into two parts, "The Arrival" and "The Return", with the divide falling between "I Want To Break Free" and "Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy".

○ The complete track was later included on VoicePlay's "Citrus" album, which compiled most of the songs they recorded from 2017-19. Because the individual songs had already been made available digitally, that album is exclusively a physical item that can only be purchased at live shows or through their website.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Caledonia

by Mnemosyne_Nyx 5+1 Sequel to "Song of Ilium" The riots are over, Eris is dead and Bruce is home. As the League finishes tying up loose ends, Gotham’s criminal underworld has benefited from the Batman’s absence and calls for its hero. There is work to be done, lives to be saved and soon the Iliad’s downfall becomes another strike in the Justice League’s victory tally. The world and its heroes can move on. But Bruce can’t. And no matter how much he denies it, the cracks are starting to form. Words: 1949, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Batman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Justice League: Doom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Batfamily Members (DCU), Damian Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman), J'onn J'onzz, Original Female Character(s), Justice League (DCU) Relationships: batman/trauma, Batfamily Members & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, J'onn J'onzz & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Ace the Bat-Hound & Bruce Wayne, bruce wayne & mental illness, Diana (Wonder Woman) & Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Sequel, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Trauma, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne Needs Therapy, This man is not well, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, I've never written the batfamily before lmao this hard, Justice League Family Feels, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth is a Saint, Mental Anguish, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Best Friends, Denial of Feelings, and those feelings being bad ones, Angst, Character Study, Slow Build, Worried Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne-centric, Psychological Trauma, Hurt/Comfort via https://ift.tt/nkPS4Kq

[exalted-dawn-drabbles]

beloved i come a-beggin for Tal & OC (Vir if you so desire??) for ❛ no one hurts you and gets away with it. ❜

Lol the quickest I've dished out 1.6k words without prior planning lemme tell you XD So enjoy this little pseudo-sequel to my Horror-esque fic, the Halla and the Hounds, where Vir finds an injured Tal who managed, for a second time, to escape the clutches of the Templars who hunt her. ITS BIG SAD! And also will need ANOTHER sequel if you wanna see Virelan serve the justice so richly deserved XD BUT ANYWHO! For now just enjoy the pain LOL

for @dadrunkwriting

Rated T: Dark themes, anti-mage violence, blood, trauma

The Halla and the Dragon | By Exalted-Dawn

The night had been an especially dark one.  Clouds blanketed the sky, swallowing what little light the waning moon shed in near perfect entirety; the evidence of their meal a faint silver glow lining their feathered edges, turning them into silent specters that drifted fast overhead.

It had also been a quiet night. Rain had fallen not but an hour before, and most everyone had been driven inside early to avoid its mountain-chilled bite. Now though, no water fell, and the puddles beneath Virelan’s feet were disturbed only by her own passage and the gentle autumn breeze that skimmed across their surface. It had been a quiet night.

Perhaps that was why she noticed it. It was a subtle sound, the kind that normally would have been buried far beneath the bustle of the normally busy courtyards, but this night had been a quiet night. And in such unwavering silence, the unmistakable tempo of stolen breath– panicked breath– paired with a faint, wavering whimper was as clear as a singing blade to Virelan’s fine-tuned ears. She froze, stopping just before the base of the stairs leading up to Skyhold’s main hall, a sudden alertness steeling in her gut. Her eye, which now shone bright with Venture, scoped the thick, murky shadows that clung to the courtyard below, instinct pushing her to find whoever was out there, hiding within.

Hugging the wall at the base of the stone wall staircase, she could just barely make out the shape of a figure cowering in a thicket of tall grass and bush. They sat curled in on themselves, pressed into a tight ball like some wounded and terrified animal, but the night was too thick to make out too much else from where she stood. Virelan took one more look around, searching for the signs of the chaos or clamor that usually followed in danger’s wake, but still there was only silence. Cautiously, she turned off her chosen path and towards the noise, her footsteps light so as not to startle. “Hello…?” she called, careful to keep her voice low and even as she grew near. “Is there someone out there? Are you in need of help?”

Just vaguely, she could make out a faint flash in the nearby torch light, and the flick of a pointed ear. Elvhen. 

Her stomach sank just a little. “Lethallen?” she tried again, taking another step closer. 

This time, she saw a head snap up. There was another glint that caught the light of the fires, sparking off something metallic as it swung in the air. Through Venture, she could make out a mop of long dark hair and two wide, terrified eyes staring back at her, shocked, as though they hadn’t noticed her approach until now. Dark slashes of ink, like barren branches, framed the figures cheeks; obscured beneath half muddy smudges of tears and… dirt? No. Blood. Fresh blood that ran freely from one cheek, dripping down along curve of the figure’s face to-

Virelan’s veins went cold as ice. A single, familiar golden earring hung, dangling, alongside the woman’s jaw; the delicate, metal bars chiming with the movement.

“Arasha?” She breathed, her stomach suddenly in her throat. 

Talenna flinched, withdrawing further against the wall as if scorched, her eyes trained on Virelan but not seeing. 

Virelan rushed forward, all pretense of wariness abandoned. Her arms shot out to try and soothe Talenna into some state of calm, but the woman, blind in her apparent terror, seemed unable to differentiate friend from foe. She cried out, twisting away on hands and feet in her escape, but only managed to make it a few steps before tripping again and falling shoulder first into the mud. And that was when Virelan saw it.

A large stain blossomed across the back of her friend’s tunic, dark like creeping mold. More blood. So much more blood. It clung to the longer strands of Talenna’s hair, sticky and matted around the area of a large gash that spanned from shoulder to hip. A blade wound. “Talenna-” Her hand snapped out, this time finding purchase on her friend’s upper arm. Talenna continue to thrash, but Virelan was stronger, and pulled her firmly into a tight clutch to prevent the storyteller from further hurting herself. “Talenna. Talenna, it’s just me. Calm down. Tal-”

“No!” The sound was a snarl and a sob, barked with so much desperation that Virelan could feel it in her chest. “No, no, no, sathan, mana! Ma halani! H-He’s going to hurt me- please-”

“He? Talenna, who did this to you?!” 

“Please!” She shook her head, pushing frantically against Virelan’s shoulders. “Sathan, please, he’s going to find me- please-”

Virelan gathered her friend tighter against her chest, her hands finding the sticky warmth coating Talenna’s back as she did, and bit down on a feral sort of noise. Fierce protectiveness, like angry fire, rose up in her blood, but concern for her friend outweighed even that, and she shoved aside the inferno for the moment. She couldn’t afford to lose herself to rage right now. Not with Talenna lost to her own storm.  “No,” she snapped. “I am not leaving you, arasha. You’re injured. You need help. But first, you need to calm down. Sathan. Ar lasa mala eth. I won’t let anyone else hurt you. Trust me.”

Loathe as she was to move Talenna in this condition, if there was danger lurking nearby, then they couldn’t stay here. Virelan was without a weapon, and Talenna was quickly losing strength. She needed to alert the guards.

Against her friend’s faltering protests, Virelan scooped an arm under Talenna’s legs and hoisted her up against her chest. Immediately, a sharp hiss of pain broke from Talenna’s lips, shattering the chain of ‘please’s and ‘no’s, but Virelan wasted no time worrying over it. She took the steps two at a time, barking orders as she made for her private rooms. They were some of the most well guarded in Skyhold, and they would be safe. 

She only hoped she would get there in time as Talenna slowly went limp in her arms. 

~~~

Talenna woke to darkness, staring up at a ceiling that was not her own. Unconsciousness flared and fell around her like rolling waves, threatening to swallow her with every dip of focus. She wasn’t sure how long she laid there; slipping in and out of lucidity as she counted the rocks overhead. All she knew is that she felt entirely too heavy, and that she was not in her own room. 

“...Talenna?”

She blinked.

“Are you awake, arasha?”

Something squeezed her hand. 

Talenna blinked again, desperate to stop her vision from swimming. Everything was spinning, and her head hurt to the point of tears. She sucked down a shuddering breath, feeling suddenly and horribly nauseous. “Where am I?” she rasped, unable to keep the fear from her voice. Why couldn’t she see?

There was movement somewhere to her right. There was another squeeze to her hand. “Peace. Don’t try to move. You’re in my room. You’re safe.”

That voice. It was familiar. “...Who?”

“It’s Virelan. Talenna, it’s me.” Shadows swirled with the orange glow of flame. A candle, or distant fireplace, perhaps? But still, she couldn’t see. Talenna clenched her eyes shut, trying and failing to will away the spinning. “You were attacked. I found you and brought you back to my room for help.”

Attacked…? Who was? 

Virelan continued. “You were badly injured, but fortunately, the healers managed to close the worst of your wounds, lethallan. It was come and go for a while, but you will be okay.” Then silence fell. “...Who did this to you, Talenna? Do you remember who hurt you?”

Gleaming eyes in the darkness. A smile full of rot. A flaming sword across the chest.

A Hound.

Tears began to fall down her cheeks, her throat suddenly going tight. She shook her head wildly, and sent the world into another dizzying tumble. “Sathan, no. Don’t-” 

No. No if Virelan goes, he’ll hurt her too.

But her words were little more than a weak protest against the night.

“Arasha, if you know who did this, you need to tell me. No one hurts you and gets away with it.”

“Virelan-” she whined, imploring. He’ll hurt her. He’ll kill her. “Please.”

Don’t. 

Don’t go. 

“...Don’t go.”

Those two words poured from her in endless refrain, falling in tandem with her tears. She didn’t want to be alone. She couldn’t be alone. Not again. Not after- not after…

The bed beneath her dipped, and a strong arm fell over her waist. Warmth flooded her, filled her, and suddenly the world did not feel so unmoored. The gentle push and pull of Virelan’s breath against the bare skin of her shoulder could be felt, stirring the stray strands of hair gathered near her neck. Talenna inhaled deep, and sighed, feeling immediately put at ease.

Virelan hadn’t gone. She wasn’t alone. 

“For now, then, I will stay.”

Thank you.

“Go to back to sleep, lethallan.”

Gentle fingers combed through the strands of her locks, soothing in their pattern. Through and through. Over and over and over again.

Thank you.

“I will see you in the morning.”

The bed shifted again, and through tired eyes, Talenna could just barely make out the form of Virelan crossing the room, a sword strapped to her belt. She fiddled with something, a vambrace, at her wrist; her face drawn in a grim scowl. 

Talenna felt just a seed of fear settle in her chest, but she was too exhausted for it to truly take root. She laid there and watched as her friend turned and began to slowly slip away out of sight, disappearing down the stairs. Going away. Going into the jaws of the Hound.

Don’t go.

Thank you, but don’t go.

The night had been an especially dark one. It was not good for going out wandering alone. 

[hekateinhell]

HELLO i don't remember my own fic titles let alone someone else's, but your fic where daniel walks in on lestat fucking armand will forever be marinating in my brain. it's just so HOT and you get to run the gamut of emotion with daniel while he processes that armand is being struggle fucked and liking it. i'll hound you until i die over getting a follow up on that one.

but ALSO THE MUSSY!!! love you for writing that one out, we talked that concept for so long and seeing the final product was just!!! transcendent. the anne rice mermaid story we were promised but never got. bless you for filling that void ♥

asksjshs omg I didn't know you read that one!! I didn't even know you back then can you believe it??? 🥹 it was a prompt from lixx btw so we can thank her and her big beautiful brain 🫶🏼 I really loved the idea of daniel getting to actually witness how unhinged vampires can be with each other! it's one thing to see it, totally different to see it. especially now that we know lestat once described his love for armand as flaming, like I want daniel to see that in action and match it you know?

ugh ugh I just want lestat and daniel to dp armand, that's it that's the sequel babe!

THE MUSSY WOULDN'T EXIST WITHOUT YOU!!!!! shit so much of my stuff wouldn't exist without you cheering me on 🤧♥️ I'm so glad you think I did the concept justice!!! forever screaming at the fact that RoA was supposed to be about mermaids LOL ANNE WOULD EITHER LOVE US OR HATE US

[helloitshaley]

Haley's Horror Recs

HAPPY OCTOBER, HORROR HOUNDS!!!!!!!! TIS TIME!!!!! Anyway, all this month I'll be recommending horror classics that I think should be watched in October, so not necessarily my normal underrated recs.

A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET

Slasher

After a bout of vigilante justice, the parents of a small town think their child killer problems are over. But killing Freddy Krueger only seems to have given him more power. He starts showing up in the dreams of the children whose parents killed him, and if he kills you in your dreams, you die in real life.

You should watch if: You like a very unique slasher that doesn't quite fit the typical slasher mold. You love a classic. You appreciate an iconic character. You like a killer thats also full of one liners.

Available to watch on Max, Amazon Prime

(If you like this try; All the sequels, Halloween, It Follows, Urban Legend, Candyman, It, Friday the 13th)

[disney-is-mylife]

This has been such a fascinating poll! I loved reading everyone's tags and comments, it was enlightening, to say the least.

A few notes of some of the more common "other" options people mentioned:

Snow White running through the forest. Oddly, despite being a VERY sensitive child and watching that movie over and over at the tender age of 4 years old, that scene did not frighten me as much as the Evil Queen's transformation (there is literally an old photo of me hiding behind the wall, peeking around the corner for the transformation scene to be over). When it came to the forest, I think it was because lil me would dress up as Snow White and "run with her." It was almost like.... an act of solidarity or something???

Pinocchio's Pleasure Island sequence. As an adult, I 10000% agree it is one of the darkest scenes Disney has EVER produced and it gives me chills every single rewatch. But..... for some unfathomable reason, it didn't really spook me as a child??? Perhaps it was simply because I didn't understand the horrific implications, or maybe I found it more "weird" than "terrifying." Monstro, on the other hand, was an Eldritch abomination that swallows WHOLE ASS SHIPS and holds a grudge! Monstro was an easier terror to comprehend; the boys turning into donkeys didn't click until I was older...

Pink Elephants from Dumbo, Alice in Wonderland, and Heffalumps and Woozles from Winnie-the-Pooh all delighted and weirded me out in a pleasant, funny way. Idk the sequences are just so colorful, bouncy, and bizarre, I just didn't???? get scared???? But I also think that "home environment" plays a factor into this: my older siblings would laugh at and mimic the Pink Elephants, so I didn't see them as harmful.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

In hindsight, the Bear from The Fox and the Hound and Fidget from The Great Mouse Detective are definitely honorable mentions from my childhood. But they didn't "stick" with me the way the other options had.... The former because I was slightly older (10-11 years old), the latter because they were "one and done" split second scenes, and my siblings would reassure me it had passed and I was too invested in the story to hide away for long lol

Despite what I originally wrote when I posted this poll, upon further reflection, I don't think I actually watched The Black Cauldron until I was an older kid. Maybe 10-11 or so...? And because of that, I was able to stomach the terrifying imagery a lot better lol

And yet, 5 year old me DID worship the hell out of Hunchback of Notre Dame! To me, it wasn't scary at all, but a compelling dramatic story of Quasimodo finding his place among the people and Esmeralda demanding justice for her people and outcasts of society. Something about that story lodged itself into my brain and influenced me for years to come.... I remember being glued to my seat every time we played the VHS tape, utterly mesmerized by the film. And even at a very young age, the ending with the child embracing Quasimodo touched my soul in ways I cannot explain.

As for the infamous "traumatic death" scenes of Bambi's mom and Mufasa..... those were more "sad" and "emotionally intense," where I would be invested in the moment and cry in the aftermath, but be so emotionally involved in the story, I had to keep watching! Sad scenes never frightened me away; only the terrifying monsters did.

As for infamous other terrifying scenes: I did not watch Who Framed Roger Rabbit or Nightmare Before Christmas until my senior year of high school, and I still only remember the sequels compared to The Brave Little Toaster. And Don Bluth films didn't really spook me cuz outside of Anastasia and All Dogs Go to Heaven, I didn't properly watch any of them until middle school and high school lol XD

This is by far my favorite poll! I think I really tapped into the niche "Childhood Millennial Trauma" lmao

Thanks for all the feedback and votes, y'all! It's been fun! ❤

5-year-old me: *could watch Hunchback of Notre Dame, The Black Cauldron, The Great Mouse Detective without flinching or hiding*

Also 5-year-old me: *freaked the fuck out over Hercules nearly dying*

This is a very specific poll lol, but I'm curious if any of my Traumatized Scenes is shared by anyone else on Tumblr. Happy voting! ❤

[depends-on-the-sellsword]

Please, i just need some fluff with Arya. My assasin baby deserves love. I don't care about the plot honestly, so you choose

below the keep || arya stark

"Are you frightened?"

"Never with you."

arya takes you to see the dragon skulls. no spoilers. Baratheon/Lannister!reader. could be read as a sequel to my first arya fic, if so inclined :)

masterlist

-----------

The afternoon sun trickled through your windows, only broken here or there by a lazy cloud. You sat abed, leafing through your book about Ser Duncan the Tall, listening to the sound the pages made when you turned them. For once, things were quiet.

So when Arya burst into your room, out of breath, covered in filth, and holding an angry cat, you weren't quite sure what to say. You looked at your friend, then to the hissing cat in her arms, and then to the unidentifiable smudges all over her. And then back to the cat. You liked cats.

"What's the cat's name?"

Arya looked down, as if she'd forgotten that she was holding something. "Oh, this guy? Doesn't matter," She tossed the cat aside, nearly avoiding the loss of her nose to some claws and teeth, before the cat gave one final hiss and bolted. "I found them."

"Huh?"

"The dragon skulls! I found the dragon skulls! C'mon!"

You tossed your book aside like it was an angry cat, took Arya's hand, and let her pull you along. The dragons were calling. All your life you'd wanted to see them, and all your life your Queen mother had told you nothing but no. No to the dragons. No to sneaking around the keep unsupervised. No to playing with 'the Stark girl'.

But Arya always said yes. Arya was taking you to see the dragons. Her hand was warm, and rough, and she smiled at you like Cersei never had. In the short time you'd known her, your world had been filled with adventure and laughter and yes. Even in the narrow tunnels she was pulling you through right now, she made you feel free.

She led you down. Down corridors, down ramps, taking steps two at a time down curved stairwells. You kept up as best you could, even though you knew she'd never leave you behind. Lower, and deeper, and lower you went. The torches grew ever sparser, and soon, Arya had to take one so you wouldn't be swallowed by the darkness around every corner. Something in your bones said that you were no longer above the earth.

Arya glanced back at you, fire bathing the side of her face in the warmest colors imaginable, reflecting in her eyes and coloring her hair auburn. You could have sworn it was dragonfire that lit her up. "Watch your step," she murmured, and you did. And when you looked up again, she was facing away, and the fire was naught but the torch in her hand.

"Don't worry, we're close. Are you frightened?"

"Never with you," you said, and you were not afraid. The dragons were still calling, and Arya's hand was steady. The dark was full of things that did not love you, but she did, and that was all you needed. A few more steps, the end of the stairs...

And then, there were dragons.

Dragon skulls. Tens of them. Maybe hundreds. Nearest to you, they were no larger than a grapefruit, but the room stretched back, and back, and back, the skulls growing in size until they were larger than you, or your father, or even The Hound. And there, at the very end, sat Balerion The Dread, king of this tomb far under the realm of men.

"If only we could've seen them alive," you whispered. It felt wrong to speak aloud.

"Maybe we will someday. Until then," Arya stepped forwards, towards the king below the surface. "Watch."

She thrust the torch into the mouth of Balerion The Dread, and you came to truly understand how he got his name. The flames seemed to thrive in his skull, twisting and dancing and filling his mouth with a fragment of what he must have been in life. The songs did him no justice. The poems did him no justice. He was beautiful, and he was terrible, and he was powerful, and, silhouetted in his open mouth, so was Arya.

She turned then, beckoned you to come to her as she set the torch down, hand outstretched in the most inviting of ways. You all but ran to take it. She helped you over the dreadful row of teeth, which ceased to be dreadful with the touch of her hand, and you were in the mouth of a dragon. And Arya was in the mouth of a dragon with you. And she was beautiful. And you were not afraid.

"Do you like it?" She whispered, taking your other hand as well.

"I've never seen anything so beautiful."

"Me neither. And think, nobody ever comes here. This can be our place."

"I'd like that."

You meant it. Though, 'I'd like that more than anything in the entire world, and you are perfect, and I would stay down here with you forever,' probably would've been more accurate.

Is this what falling in love feels like?

The thought hit you, and you stopped for a moment, and you didn't know. What did love even look like? Not your mother and father, you knew that much. All the songs said love was the most wonderful thing, but how could it be if Arya was the most wonderful thing too? Maybe that's what they meant.

"You okay? You're staring at nothing."

Her hands squeezed, the gentlest pressure on your palms, and she slid her fingers through the gaps between yours. They fit. And suddenly, you were sure. This must be how it felt to love, to be loved, and the songs did not do it justice, and the poems did not do it justice. Without another moment's hesitation, you pulled her into your arms. Arya, who always said yes. Arya, who was freedom, and companionship, and dragonfire. Arya, who was yours.

She returned your embrace with a laugh, squeezing you as you did her. "What's this for?"

"Do you think mother would let me marry you?"

"Probably not," she pulled back to look you in the eyes, the corner of her mouth tugging ever-so-slightly upward. "But we'll do it anyway. She can't stop you when we're grown up."

"You do want to marry me, then?" You could've jumped for joy, but thought better of it, since you'd most likely hit your head in the skull. "Really? You really do?"

"Of course I'd want to marry you, are you stupid?"

"Probably. I mean, I'm standing inside a dragon's mouth."

"That doesn't count, he's dead. And I'm in here too."

"Guess that means you're stupid, too." You gave her your most winning smile, then ducked when she swatted at you.

Arya glared playfully. "I hate you."

"You love me."

"I do." She picked up the torch, once again bathing her in fire, and took your hand. "Now come on, we'll be late for supper."

----

the sellsword's taglist: no one here yet!

arya stark's taglist: no one here yet!

(ask to be added to taglists! 'the sellsword's' is for all of my works on this account. Each character ive written for also has their own separate taglist, if you'd only like to be notified for certain characters.)

[lunarsands]

ALSMP Fanfic: Until The Blood Moon Descends Ch 2

Characters: merling!Scott, gravital!Sausage, goolien!Sausage, giant!Sausage, thornling!Scott, and a few more iterations…

Relationships: MythicalSausage/Scott Smajor

Tags: Canon Divergent, scosage

Warnings: Injury, Illness, Body Horror, Character Death (by fourfold), Angst

(Sequel to Echoing Through To You and When The Skies Cry)

Summary: Sausage and Scott start to find balance again as gravital and merling, and life falls into a relaxing routine. Then one night a Blood Moon rises and their bond is tested like never before. Destiny, it seems, continues to hound their every step…

(Also available on Ao3!)

[ Chapter One ]

Chapter Two

It might have been the sound of his own labored breathing that disturbed Sausage during the night, but after a few moments he also noticed that there seemed to be something scrabbling around in his room. He could swear he heard a faint beeping noise but then it stopped. “S-Scott? Is – Is that you?” he called blearily. He couldn’t see much in the dark but didn’t have the energy to turn on the light.

Someone who definitely wasn’t Scott muttered, “Signal is weak but this is the source. Bad and good timing it seems.”

They sounded like they were almost right next to his pillows. Sausage turned and attempted to push himself up, black mist curling around his hand. “W-Who’s there? H-How did you get in here?”

“Oh, you really are in rough shape. That will make this easier. Hey, over here.” A dull greenish light lit up beside the crate of health potions. Sausage was very confused by what he was seeing. There seemed to be a very small, semi-transparent bipedal creature dressed in some type of red bodysuit with a closed helmet standing on the wooden chest, holding a tiny silver box which was the source of the light.

“Who – and what – are you?”

“That’s going to take some explaining. Let me start with this: I’m from somewhere far away, and I arrived here on the night of crimson, and you caused me to crash land because of some gravity malfunction. It has taken me far too much time to track you down because everything on this planet is absurdly large, and as I now see you don’t even have that much gravity power left. Since you obviously won’t be able to help with that part of the matter, you can help me in another way – because right now, as I see it, you owe me one.”

Sausage gave a quiet little laugh then coughed. “What? I was – I was fighting monsters half the night. What do you mean ‘this planet’? …I must be delirious or something.” He eyed the tiny creature then reached over it to try to pick up one of the potions. His fingertips caught at the top of a bottle but he only managed to knock it over in the attempt.

The creature watched and shook its head judgingly. “You really don’t have a lot of time. Listen: I can give you more time, but we need to make a deal. I have a mission to carry out and I need a host to get me across this stupidly big landmass. You’re about to die, and you’re responsible for my delay. Work with me and we both benefit.”

“A mission? A host? What does that even mean?” Sausage huffed in frustration and tried again, although his hand was shaking, and he was unable to grip the neck of the next nearest bottle. He was beginning to fear what this creature meant when saying he was about to die.

“The princess of my people came to this world and was murdered. I’m here to find her killer and enact justice. But not being of royal blood, I can’t fully function in this atmosphere and have to conserve my body’s energy. If I have a host – that is, if I possess a body like yours – I’ll be able to do what I need to and then be on my way. You can have an extra day here, then let me take over and complete my mission, and afterward I leave and you can do whatever it is your species does when it expires.”

“How do you even know how much time I have left?”

“If I can possess a body, don’t you think I would know what condition it’s in?”

Sausage couldn’t believe he was still entertaining this delusion, but had to ask, “So how much time, exactly?” He remembered that at the end the mist had overwhelmed Scott without much warning.

“About four and a half hours.”

“Uh… So that’s… What time is it now..?”

“You’re not making it to sunrise, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Sausage tried to think if he could successfully manage to find Scott, get through another possible argument with him, and still say what he needed to in order to make peace with him within that time frame. As he grabbed the side of the blanket to pull it back so he could get up, he saw the mist surrounding his hand. He realized he had two options: he could try to yell for Scott so he would come to him, but he didn’t feel like he had the lung strength for that right now; or he could agree to this alien creature’s proposal and buy the time to talk to Scott in the morning. He wasn’t sure how he would explain the latter, but maybe Scott would be more reasonable by then.

“If I agree to this, promise me you’ll leave Scott out of it. Actually, no, I want you to help him. All he can think about is blaming himself, and I don’t want him to keep on like that. There has to be a way to get past all this.”

“I’ll see what I can do, after I get back.”

“Fine. So…what happens now?”

“Lay down for one thing. You’re going to fall off of this rest platform if you don’t, anyway. Then just close your eyes. I promise you won’t feel a thing.”

~*~

It was more than four hours later when Sausage opened his eyes to see daylight streaming through the curtains. He held a hand up, staring as he tried to determine if there was mist around it or if he just wasn’t fully awake yet. He felt… nominally better. Breathing seemed a little easier and his arm wasn’t as weak when he reached over to pick up one of the potions. He took a cautious sip. Much like the last time it didn’t seem to do anything to help, but he drank the whole bottle just so Scott would see that he had listened.

If only the former merling would listen to him. However, he didn’t know what else to say to ease the guilt. He could go over each incident that had led to his deaths and try to rationalize them, but he knew Scott had never gotten over the first one. When he had tried to remove that specific guilt Scott had stopped him, not wanting to be forgiven. The guilt was a part of him, integral, important to him, to always have inside. Maybe it was due to not having much of a conscience as a vampire then gaining one as an angel, particularly in regard toward Sausage as he fell in love with him.

It hurt Sausage to think about it, but maybe he himself needed to accept that Scott would continue carrying those feelings through all of his future lives. He would prefer still trying to help him heal, but this life, right now, wasn’t the one to do it. Maybe he could try again in whatever followed when the alien was done with him.

A knock on the door made his thoughts scatter. “C-Come in— Oh.”

Scott walked through the door without opening it, seeming to make a point to face away into the room as he spoke in a clipped tone, “Good morning. I’d ask how you were feeling but I know the answer won’t be ‘better’.”

“N-No, actually, I do—” Sausage stopped himself. Should he tell him about the alien? Would it make much difference? It was only an extra day – well, less than that by this point – and he would still die with no way of knowing what would happen next. “—because… I slept all right,” he continued. He felt he should say something else, but no words were coming to him.

Scott tilted his head, ear turned toward the bed. “No cough right now?”

“No, it – it cleared up a little. Maybe the potions are working better this time?”

“They’re not a long-term solution. You know that.”

“Scott, can we please just talk without all the impending doom hanging over our heads?”

The former merling didn’t reply so much as exhale loudly through his nose.

“Fine,” Sausage said sadly, “Be that way.” He fidgeted with the edge of the blanket then sighed, unable to commit to the silent treatment. “But, just— Remember, no matter what I come back as, I love you.”

“I – I know.” Scott struggled with the traditional response. He uttered a sigh of his own and finally moved, sitting at the very end of the bed out of reach but feeling like he owed it to Sausage to sit with him for at least a little while. “I still hate every second of this. I can’t think of any way it could have gone worse.”

Sausage had a few ideas but kept them to himself. He racked his brain for something funny to say instead, something to try to lighten the mood, but then Scott said, “I… won’t see when you go, or when you come back because then I might curse you all over again. I won’t know what you are. I hope it isn’t also bad, because… well, remember what I said when angel-me died? I can’t be much of a conscience for you if I’m like this.”

Sausage was about to ask him to stay beside him until that moment, but realized the situation could change very fast when the alien took over. “Hey, um, how about this for an idea: if you get some paper and a quill, I can write a note for myself, to remind me to keep that promise, too! And I’ll—” He stopped himself again. “…I’ll, um, I’ll let you know what I am when I can.”

He had to include that last part in case he wasn’t near home when the alien left, although he would hope it would have the courtesy to not abandon him thousands of blocks away. Maybe he should add a reminder in the note to keep obsidian plus a flint and steel on him so he could take a shortcut home if that did happen.

“I’m not sure that would work,” Scott replied, although he stood up. “But I’ll do it if you really want. Let me go look.”  He walked directly through the door again.

Sausage let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He really should have asked the alien creature more questions about what would happen when it took over, and when it left.

If he hadn’t simply dreamt the whole thing.

But then, he was better right now, and it was true the potions didn’t ultimately work. His thoughts then doubled back on themselves. Scott didn’t seem any more agreeable this morning, and the rest of the day would likely go the same.

“You don’t have to give me a whole day anymore,” Sausage whispered out loud. “It doesn’t matter.” He got out of bed and picked up one of the empty potion bottles, clutching it tightly as he went over to the open window beside the desk. It would be a simple matter to climb out. “Let’s go now, before he comes back. It won’t be fair, but none of this is.” He placed the bottle so it sat precariously close to the edge of the desk. “Don’t let him catch us leaving.”

“If that’s what you want,” said the creature’s voice inside his head. “Hold on to your bronchial tubes.”

Sausage then began to cough violently. His legs started to give out, causing him to stumble until he caught himself on the wall, where he saw the mist surrounding his hand once more. Scott would undoubtably hear. He shakily reached out for the windowsill.

He blacked out before he even hit the floor.

.

The sound of glass shattering caught Scott’s attention more than the coughing. The latter he couldn’t do anything about, but if Sausage got hurt by any broken pieces that would just be literal insult to injury. He left the book and quill in favor of a dustpan to clean up the glass with. This time he opened the bedroom door instead of walking through it. “Sausage, are you all…”

The room was now utterly silent. He could see some of the broken potion bottle from under the edge of his blindfold. It was across the room, not near the bed. He set down the dustpan and felt around along the blanket to be sure. No body was there. He carefully searched around to make sure Sausage wasn’t just slumped somewhere out of view, but there was also no other sounds besides his own breathing. For a second he entertained the thought that Sausage was now also something that could walk through walls, but the more acceptable thought – and what he preferred to be true – was he had come to his senses and left altogether to avoid being cursed again.

Allowing listlessness to take hold, Scott lifted his blindfold just enough to be able to more safely clean up the glass, then pulled it back into place once it was taken care of. He put away the remaining potions then returned to the bedroom, curling up on the bed and imagining that it still felt warm, that Sausage had not been gone for long.

He should have told him that he loved him one more time, or had the guts to say goodbye when he knew this was what could happen.

~*~

The next few days blended one into the other for Scott. He tried to do some upkeep around the villa, tried to make sure all the flowers in the garden patches were watered, tried to tend the animals. It was just things that had to be done. He considered letting the animals free to return to the fields, considered letting the gardens grow wild.

But what if Sausage returned and decided he wanted his home back?

Scott thought about returning to his vampire mansion, long since left to the elements after Sausage basically took him in while he regained his strength when he became an angel, and then it just seemed right to stay in Heaven’s Reach after that. As a compromise to himself, he went down to Wither’s Grasp and made the manor a little more livable since it had also been left to gather cobwebs. Boarded up windows were certainly suitable for whatever his new life alone was going to turn out to be.

He didn’t know yet what else he was going to do. Just wait, perhaps, and let nature take its course. One thought at the very back of his mind – something he didn’t dare call hope – was that Sausage, reborn hale and hearty, had left to find a better answer to the problem.

It occurred to Scott that he should write down everything he knew so far, since he had left that one book back at the stronghold, just in case Sausage did return, and there was the chance that one of them might become an Enigma again in the future. The project took up part of an afternoon, and he was leaving the manor to bring the book up to the villa when he heard footsteps crunching on the rocky dirt of the path. He quickly tugged at his blindfold to make sure he didn’t accidentally catch sight of them.

“Hello?” he called out, keeping his voice steady to avoid giving away his weakness. “Who’s there?”

“An old friend,” came a semblance of Sausage’s voice; something seemed off about it, not to mention that was a strange way to refer to himself. “Ssscott,” he then sounded out the other’s name as if it was an unfamiliar word. “Come with me. We have business to tend to.”

Before Scott could react, a hand closed on his arm and he was practically dragged across Wither’s Grasp, over the bridge, and partway up the stone staircase. “Saus—where are we going?”

“Back to the scene of the crime.”

That phrasing didn’t sit well with him, but he didn’t protest as he was encouraged to climb up into the cave that sat inside the wall, left just as it was on the night of the Blood Moon. Still holding onto the book, Scott was about to ask why they were there now, but hands turned him to make sure he was facing toward Sausage and then the blindfold was yanked off his head. “No-!” He started to cover his face with his arms but the glimpse he caught of who he thought was Sausage made him stop and stare in shock.

Green, translucent skin and pink hair greeted him, strange clear eyes staring back from what was definitely Sausage’s face. He was wearing the same clothes as the last time Scott had seen him, although they hung oddly on his frame and there was residue from gunpowder dirtying his shirt. Scott recovered from his shock and tried to block his line of sight again, but the alien version of Sausage stopped him. “No, don’t look away. This is important. Now, listen to me: Do you want to forget this ever happened? I can make him forget, and I can make you forget.”

“Make… him? So you’re… not Sausage? What are you?”

“Very long story. If you forget it won’t matter anyway. Let’s just say I needed to borrow him. No, keep looking at me. I still need you to end this.”

“Then…make sure we get this book. In case one of us comes back like me again.” Scott pointed with the book’s spine toward the bit of cobblestone wall where the black cloth was still laid out. Pseudo-Sausage nodded, and Scott backed up to place the book on it, glancing away only long enough to make sure it was properly on the wall and wouldn’t fall off. Then he said, “Forgetting won’t take away the guilt, you know.”

“That’s a matter for you. My business is vengeance. You can think of this situation as that. You’re knocking me loose, but I’ll avenge this mate of yours before I go.”

Understanding dawned on Scott. He suppressed a grateful smile and continued to hold his stare. The black mist appeared around pseudo-Sausage’s hands and feet, progressing even faster than before.

The alien looked down at his hands, holding one up to study the effect. “Hm, that will do. Next we just…” He took a small silver box from his pocket and fiddled with it. “Wait, that’s not… Right, got it.”

Scott watched curiously and leaned forward a little. A beam of bright red energy shot out of the front of the box, striking him in the chest. He dropped to the floor without a sound. The alien then sighed and placed the box on the ground by the cave’s entrance, then sat down next to Scott and waited.

~*~

When Sausage woke he first registered the sunlight streaming in from the front of the cave, and that was a relief. At least the night full of hordes of monsters was over. Next, however, came the feeling of the cave wall pressing in on him. His body felt oddly spread out, like his shoulders were too wide and his arms farther apart. He tried to move a little and nearly hit his head on close-hanging rock. Had there been some creeper around that collapsed a wall on him?

His gaze fell on a book sitting upon the black cloth where arrows and a potion had been, seeming far below his line of sight. That hadn’t been there before. He reached for it and—

Well, if he had been able to pick it up he probably wouldn’t have been able to turn the pages. His hand was gigantic in comparison. It wasn’t the cave that had changed. He had gotten bigger. But where was… “Ohgod. Scott? Scott??” The only thing stopping him from looking around in a panic was the threat of hitting his head again. “Please don’t tell me I crushed you…”

“Over here.” The voice had a strange quality to it, reminding him of endermen speech.

It took a moment because he was looking for a regular-sized person, but what he finally did see was a small (was it extra small because he was so big?) creature with purple crystalline horns coming out of its forehead, strangely shaped motes floating around pale yellow hair, and violet eyes that stared up at him. “Or down here, I guess I should say.”

“Oh, you’re tiny. That’s kind of cute.” Sausage giggled.

“And you’re stuck. I don’t know if you’ll fit through the way out even if you can crawl over there. Of all the places to turn into a giant,” Scott mused. “I’ll go get a pickaxe and try to get you out.”

“Wait, there’s a book here, it wasn’t in that bundle. I can’t, uh, pick it up.”

“All right, let me see.” The wall was just low enough for Scott to reach it. He started to flip through the book, wondering what relevance it had in the wake of them being shot by the terrifying skeletal archer. “This is…my handwriting. I don’t remember doing this.”

“What does it say?”

“Something about a creature called an Enigma. Huh… Oh! I put a little note at the end. …Oh.”

“That didn’t sound good.”

“That’s the thing that killed me when I was an angel.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t know why this was here, but I guess I found information or something? But I still don’t remember writing this.”

“Maybe… it’s the cave. Like you found the crossbow and stuff, and the first time I came in here I found stuff I could use as a wither. I didn’t question it before.”

“The cave has prescient abilities?”

“I don’t know. Weirder things have happened.”

Scott batted at one of the motes floating around his head, not that it really did anything to affect it. “Obviously. Well, give me a few minutes.” He scurried out of the cave and Sausage couldn’t contain another giggle while watching him. He then worked on maneuvering around to do the aforementioned crawling toward the cave’s entrance, earning a few scrapes in the process when trying to figure out where his limbs could fit. This was going to take some getting used to.

Scott returned and started work on expanding the sides of the entrance. Sausage noticed the extra pickaxe strapped to his back. “Why did you bring a gold one?”

“I don’t know. I just kind of wanted it.”

“Huh, so… where am I going to sleep now? I’m not going to fit in the house…”

~*~

As time went on the cycle just kept continuing for the two of them. An excessively packed TNT trap took out Sausage despite his extra resilience as a giant, although it was that resilience that shielded Scott from the blast. Yet before long, in a similar fashion, Scott was caught unaware by a creeper, which dealt immediate death due to his smaller, less hardy state.

They soon found themselves in a new unusual situation when Sausage became an owl and Scott a red panda. They made a nest inside a small forest cave as they adjusted to animalistic senses, although it didn’t last long anyway when a dire wolf found them.

Throughout it all they stayed together as best they could, while Sausage soon outpaced Scott in the count as he continued to be driven to protect him. A lengthy amount of peace came again when Scott found himself settling in as a floran, content to just tend gardens again while the very plants themselves grew upon him, giving him his own personal flower crown at all times. Meanwhile, the various pools and house pond came in handy again when Sausage had a turn at being a merling. Scott took out his old trident to give him tips on using it, and showed him the best spots for fishing in the river. There weren’t as many adventures anymore, and as Scott put it one time, “Now I don’t have to go far to get the flowers I want.”

Reminded of a particular flower-gathering disaster, Sausage was glad to agree.

~*~

Scott idly kicked his bare feet in the water of the deeper of the western ponds, smiling at a late afternoon butterfly that was investigating the flowers growing in his hair. Sausage had been napping at the bottom of the pond and was on his way up while Scott simply waited for him, a picnic dinner set out nearby and plans to watch the sunset ahead of them.

Surfacing near the middle, Sausage swam over and rested his webbed hands on the tops of Scott’s feet, which the floran lightly alternated again to create small ripples between them. Sausage smiled up at him then patted one of his knees before going to the side and hauling himself out. With water running down his face from his hair, he gave Scott a little kiss, then they moved to the picnic blanket to eat.

It was a perfect evening… up until the red of the sunset failed to fade from the sky. Sausage peered at the horizon, doublechecking the sun’s position. “Um… Not liking that. We should maybe get inside…”

“Too late.” Scott was already looking toward the villa. Creepers and spiders had begun to appear en masse, and a group of zombies was starting to head their way. Scott put his hands to the ground and after a scowl of concentration, twisting vines emerged from the grass in front of the undead, tangling around them as they shambled forward. He caught up a few creepers as well.

Sausage reached back into the pond where he had left the trusty trident leaning on the wall, having a habit of keeping it nearby at all times. “We’re getting to the river this time,” he insisted. Scott nodded and left the sentient vines to do their work without him, and together they ran for the waterfall. Unimpeded this time, they reached the fountain and slid down into the river below. After the brief plunge they both surfaced and assessed the threat collecting on the banks to either side. They began to swim underwater with the current, hoping it would speed them along a little faster, with Scott leaving a trail of petals as the flowers were pulled from his hair by each dive.

Sausage dealt with any Drowned they encountered, which for the moment were thankfully few. But skeletal archers on the banks were becoming wise to their presence, and the two had to start diving deeper to avoid the arrows, with the merling providing breaths of air when it became too dangerous to surface. They found respite when the river opened up toward the ocean, but colder depths weren’t very agreeable to a floran so they started to head back up and hoped to find a spot of land with the least number of mobs possible.

As much as Scott didn’t mind Sausage kissing him to give him air, he was glad for the next breath he took on his own as he reached the surface first, and one of the green tendrils in his hair poked at his ear as if to tell him they didn’t appreciate being submerged for that long. Scott brushed at it and looked around for a safe place to get out, starting to feel a little uneasy without soil beneath his feet. The nearby beach, however, was already crawling with zombies, and they were now beginning to funnel toward him, sinking as they hit the water only to start being converted into Drowned.

Sausage had been scouting from below and grimaced at the sight as he swam back upward, but he had located what he had been looking for. He surfaced and reached for Scott with his free hand. “I know you would really rather get back on land right about now, but there’s no safety at all there. I found a spot we can hide out in until daybreak, it’s just another little swim down. Come on, I’ve got you.” He offered a reassuring smile.

Scott brushed at the tendril by his ear again, then smiled back, trusting the merling. Together they dived back under and Sausage guided the way. A trench lined with exposed magma provided a natural barrier but crossing it was risky for the floran. Sausage wrapped his arms around him and used the trident to propel through the water across it as fast as he could, then continued swimming for a little ways through a crevice before letting him go and pointing upward.

Above was a small pocket of humid air within a section of the tiniest lush cave either of them had ever seen. The glowberry vines barely had any fruit but it was enough light to see by. Scott gratefully climbed up from the deepslate to sink his feet into the clay. It wasn’t dirt, but it was enough to sustain the dripleaf, the nearest of which he petted as it leaned toward him on its stalk. New flower buds began to form in his hair. Sausage watched with a smile. It was always fascinating to see that happen.

Something gurgled behind him. The smile fell from his face, stomach turning with dread. So much for being safe. He only had time to notice that the Drowned that had found them had a head like a wither skeleton before a smoky black trident was thrust into his chest, and then he was the one gurgling as he was pushed backward against the clay wall, his own trident falling from his hand.

“SAUSAGE!” Scott yelled. Acting fast, he caused scores of dripleaf to erupt from the ground and shoot up to the ceiling, cutting off the wither-Drowned. As he rushed over, glowberry vines descended upon Sausage, wrapping around his chest to stem the flow of blood from his wounds, although Scott worried how effective it would be if the accursed trident had pierced too deep. “Hold on, hold on, Sausage, I’ll – I’ll think of something, okay?” He clasped the merling’s face between his hands, hoping to get him to focus on him. Sausage smiled weakly but there was already blood seeping out between the vines.

And then the withering took effect. With nothing to counteract it, at that point Scott could do little more than hold Sausage’s hand until the merling’s grip grew slack. As unfortunate as it seemed, it was now something they had grown accustomed to. Scott cradled him in his arms, leaving the vines in place to keep the wounds covered until Sausage regenerated with the change to a new form.

With no other indication of the hour, he relied on the progression of the original meager vines on the cave ceiling to mark time. Slowly but steadily they grew downward, and occasionally a new cluster of berries blinked into existence, adding a little more light. But after a while Scott decided it was a terrible way to keep track of time, because it seemed to be taking too long.

“Sausage, come back to me, please. Y-You can’t just leave me in here, okay?” He tried to laugh. “This was your idea. You know, it’s kind of silly, putting ourselves in a dead end like this with no plan for a way back if you can’t swim us out.” He leaned his head over his face, teardrops falling onto Sausage’s cheeks. “I’m sorry I said that. It wasn’t silly. It was a good idea. I should have blocked the way behind us sooner, just as a precaution. I’m sorry I keep relying on you to protect us. Y-You’re going to come back, right? You have to. …Sausage?”

He stroked his hair then slipped a hand under the vines to check for a heartbeat. “L-Listen, Sausage, I can get us out, don’t worry about that part. I can get roots to dig through even the stone and we won’t have to worry about the swimming part no matter what you are. But you’ve got to come back first. Okay?”

Scott gently laid him against the clay wall so he could climb a little higher and touch the ceiling to start summoning the roots as promised. If the unthinkable happened, he still needed a way out…  He then sank to his knees and looked at his hands, feeling helpless. “W-What am I supposed to do if you don’t come back? Sausage…tell me?”

New light suddenly blazed into view, but it wasn’t the soft orange of a glowberry. It was silvery and bright, and it came from between the vines around Sausage’s chest. Scott uttered a gasp of relief and hurried back down toward where he lay. The light spread, engulfing Sausage’s body as he was finally revived. The vines fell away, and before the glow even faded his silhouette alone stopped Scott in his tracks. The former merling didn’t move right away and so he couldn’t help crying out, “Sausage! Sausage! Please, wake up!”

On Sausage’s part, he was a little disoriented by the light but as it dimmed he could see the new, full blooms in Scott’s hair and thought to himself that this was good, because it meant the floran was unharmed. But he himself felt like he was on fire. “Urg…my head…is buzzing. Am I a thunderborn again?”

Scott answered with a voice full of awe, “No…No, you absolutely are not.”

Sausage shifted to sit up and felt a weight on his back. A familiar one, and… in three different places. The fire actually seemed to be focused behind his head. He stood up and like he had as a giant felt like he was towering over Scott, but it was only an illusion because of the power thrumming through his body.

“A-Angel,” Scott stammered. “…My…angel.”

Holy power was what he felt, stronger than ever before. Sausage looked around at himself, folding one set of wings forward so he could look at them. This time his feathers were white with silver edges, a barely perceptible pattern along the tips. There were three pairs of wings altogether; he wasn’t just any old angel this time. The memory of hierarchies and titles came to his mind. The fire at the back of his head was his halo, and its light was shining on Scott’s face like the sun. When he held out a hand toward the floran, Scott reached for him in turn and a vine coiled out along his arm, splitting into multiple leaves and a small sunflower that all turned upward toward the seraph’s face.

Sausage offered a quiet laugh and made an effort to consciously dim his aura. The vine withdrew and the sunflower popped up in Scott’s hair amongst the others. “Well, I think I can safely say that with this much power, nothing is going to hurt you ever again.”

Scott gave a laugh of his own. “So, you’re now the guardian angel you’ve always wanted to be. I would say you’ve earned it, and… everything might have been worth it.”

Sausage grinned at that, and pulled him closer to wrap him in his larger pair of wings for a hug. “We’ll wait here a little longer. I’m not that eager to test out my smiting abilities yet.”

As he leaned in for a kiss, the other flowers in Scott’s hair fell off and were replaced by a new crown made up of more small sunflowers.

 ~To be continued in Then We’ll Rewrite the Stars~

 [Post A/N: This fic was planned out before I saw Scott’s Empires S2 skin so the two different color eyes is still a reference to his Angel and Merling skins, and borrowing the idea from Lizzie that an Enigma can be a mix of someone’s previous origins. Also borrowed Jimmy’s Thornling design because there wasn’t much I could do with a potted cactus, lbr.]

[camels-pen]

Bad Luck Tuck: The Sequel

DannyMay Day 9 - Candlelight

Summary: Confessions are meant to be these big romantic gestures to show your crush all the love you feel for them. For someone like Tucker this is something that takes a lot of money, time, and effort to accomplish; even with the help of friends it's often very hard to execute.

Confessions to a half-ghost superhero that's being hounded by the Justice League is infinitely worse.

(sequel to How to Take Out a Ghost by TooFineFoley & 2nd part of The Meddling Jerkwad League series)

Ao3 Link

~

“Gotta say, it feels good to know I’m better than the Justice League at something,” Valerie said, a smug grin on her lips. “Kinda makes me wanna apply for a superhero grant from Wayne industries myself.”

“Oh you should. Those guys are completely hopeless,” Sam said, nodding. “Danny could recommend you.” Valerie laughed.

“After that? I’d be surprised if they ever let him back up there.” She dragged the video back to the halfway point and watched all of the laughter and chaos at normal speed, Sam chuckling with her.

“Yeah, hopefully it means they’ll stay out of Amity for a while too.” The other girl grimaced.

“Still no luck?” she asked softly. Sam shook her head. “Damn, that’s gotta be torture for him.” The goth sighed in agreement.

For the past several months, Tucker had been trying his damnedest to ask Danny out, but it seemed like fate—and the Jerkwad League—was determined to throw a wrench into every one of his perfectly laid out plans.

The first incident was when he used almost six months’ allowance and all his money from brief business ventures to pay Kwan’s dad to put “Danny, will you go out with me?” in skywriting above the town square. He planned to nonchalantly ask the other boy to look into the sky and then give him the perfect flower to symbolize his fiery love for the halfa; a red camellia.

Sam sent Danny a cryptic text to meet at the square and was hiding behind a bench nearby, recording on her phone for the two boys to look back on when they’re old and gray with two big dogs running around in a beautiful apartment along the lakeshore and wearing matching couples sweatshirts (Tucker may have fantasized a few times about a future with Danny, but just a few).

The plane had flown off, Danny had been just a few feet away, and Tucker didn’t sweat through his button up for once.

The scene was completely and utterly perfect.

Then Superman had flown right through the smoke trail as he passed above, looked around, and flew off in another direction.

‘Mr. Romantic’ hadn’t noticed anything amiss nor Sam’s ‘abort now!’ motions until he greeted Danny with a suave smile and told him to look up.

“‘Danny, go out’?” the halfa had read out slowly, a confused grin on his face. “Uh, thanks? I didn’t know getting ungrounded was such a big deal.”

Color drained from Tucker’s face so quickly that day, Sam was almost positive he was about to pass out on the spot. She remembered watching with a grimace as her friend started to backpedal, laughing too loudly and saying how he’d missed his best friend lately. He pushed Danny toward the arcade and dropped the camellia hidden behind his back in the fountain.

It took a while, but after a good pep talk (a.k.a. him talking out his problem while she sat and doodled his pained expression, nodding along periodically), he was ready for take two.

This time, Tucker also enlisted the help of Valerie. The three of them worked together to help him make a huge space-themed banner with lots of Danny’s favorite constellations and planets with the words “In this whole entire universe, all I want is you” painted in big bold white letters.

It took them four days to wait for the layers of paint to dry before adding more. This was in addition to trying to find the right materials to accurately depict all the little details without Danny noticing—running around to find a paint store with just the right shade of purple paint was a lot harder than they expected at 1am, half an hour before they had to meet the halfa at the park to end patrol (we’re looking for dark purple, Sam, not northwestern purple!)—but eventually the geek gave it his gold stamp of approval.

So on a sunny Wednesday afternoon, Val had set up the banner above Casper’s front entrance right before final bell, Sam stalled Danny, and Tucker rushed to the locker room to change.

Not five minutes later, Sam caught a glimpse of Mr. Romantic in a pressed black tux, red bowtie, and strutting through the halls with another red camellia in his hand as he passed the classroom door. She knew Val was waiting outside to capture the event, and, after a text from her friend, she led Danny outside, promising to finish their debate on the best music genre later (it’s punk rock, Danny’s just in denial).

Crowds of students had greeted them at the front and Sam had to push and shove the two of them through. Many students had pieced together Tucker’s plan while Val was putting up the banner and stuck around to watch the event, but Sam had known the crowds still shouldn’t have been that big.

When they had finally made their way outside to the front steps, she saw their friend holding the camellia’s stem tightly in one fist, a little grey box in the other, and looking a bit shaken towards the end of the street. She remembered following his gaze to the actual real life Batmobile turning the corner followed a few meters back by Walker and a mob of his guards.

She had seen, in real time, the change in his demeanor from hopeless romantic to just hopeless.

It took another, more involved pep talk filled with many frustrated tears—this time from Sam, Valerie, and Jazz—to try again.

Half a truck full of red and white flower petals came to town, courtesy of Danny’s parents—who had also somehow gotten in on the whole thing—and the three friends and sister had spent the better part of the next two days in a secluded area in the park, moving every petal around into their proper places spelling out “Danny” in white petals with the red petals scattered underneath in one big pile. He’d planned to hide in the pile and when Danny flew down to inspect it at the end of his patrol, he’d pop out and confess his love straight, skipping any chance for another interruption.

Sam, Val, and Jazz were hiding in nearby bushes, having come back a few minutes early from their own patrol routes, and all three had their phones out, poised and ready to record.

Then three Green Lanterns—a black guy, a ginger, and… a pig-guy??—had rocketed down from hundreds of feet up, right on top of the flower pile. The three in the bushes had watched as all of their hard work blew away in the wind, revealing Tucker on one knee with another camellia in his hands and a quickly souring expression.

Apparently, they had seen the name from high up and had been looking for Danny Phantom because the ginger and pig-guy wanted to meet the kid who’s kept the entire Justice League on their toes and if he was a threat to their planet (Ooo-ah or something, Sam hadn’t been paying attention).

Leading up to the next weekend, the name Bad Luck Tuck had started up again at school after the flower confession failure—Danny having been completely clueless as to why, of course—and Mr. Romantic had officially left the building, leaving only Mr. Vengeance.

Kitty had been very angry when they told her about the reemergence of the old nickname during their visit to her lair; she said Johnny and Shadow went on a ‘Broad Trip’, but that she had no clue where they went and if they’re in the human world, she was going to kill the both of them a second and third time for going without her.

So without a punching bag and lots and lots of frustrated wall kicking, pillow ripping, and muffled screaming later, he tried again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Each time being thwarted by stupid heroes in flashy tights who really really had no business coming to Amity. They were worse than the ghosts and they were supposed to be the good guys! Sam had really felt the secondhand frustration as if it were her own with each incident; no matter how big or small the type of confession Tucker tried, it was completely and utterly thwarted by poorly timed hero visits.

Sending a written love letter.

Lost in the wind when the Flash ran through.

A picnic invite.

Flash again, thinking it was laid out for him when he came by to give Danny an updated communicator.

A fucking paper airplane from two feet away.

Fell down the drain when Martian Manhunter showed up out of thin air between the two, the folded invitation to dinner and a movie bouncing off his cape harmlessly.

The TFF Bazooka was, unfortunately, only the latest in a long line of failed attempts to confess to his crush and it was almost too much for his heart to handle.

Sam made another face thinking about her friend's downtrodden expression when they were teleported home after another failure.

“Yeah, he hasn’t been having the best of times,” Sam agreed. “But based on Danny’s text the other day, that’s definitely going to change.” The two girls shared a knowing look.

---

“Sam I really don’t want to go to Nasty Burger right now,” Tucker said, trudging along behind her, jacket hood up and shoulders slumped. “I just wanna go home and pretend like none of Friday really happened and-” He cut himself off as they walked in, looking around in confusion at the empty, but well decorated restaurant.

Red, white, and pink cardboard hearts and shimmering streamers were strung from the ceiling leading a path to a booth in the back. It was situated far away from the windows and had a mostly stain-free red tablecloth with a single lit candle in the center. Fancy table settings that he’d only seen once during a trip to IKEA were placed for two with white napkins folded into the shape of lopsided swans.

The smell of sizzling meat filled his nose and he turned to look at Valerie behind the counter, cooking what looked like hamburger patties in the vague shape of steak, a bowl of mashed potatoes and two large cups filled to the brim with orange soda set to the side on a serving tray.

A knock to his left had him turning to the window, staring directly at Johnny on his bike with Shadow poking out from under him to wave. The ghost biker had his hands around his lips, exaggeratedly mouthing “you’re welcome” before revving his bike and riding off.

“Uh,”—Tucker whipped his head around at the familiar voice, surprised eyes locking with Danny’s nervous ones—“So I know this might seem a little much, but, um,” He took a deep breath.

“Tucker, you’re one of my best friends and while I want us to be friends still I don’t think we’re good to stay like that so I, uh…” he stuttered out, fiddling with something behind his back. “Wait, hold on that didn’t sound right, lemme—” Danny pulled out a red camellia. Tucker’s eyes began to water.

“I know that I’m not good at a lot of stuff and- and you probably deserve way better, but I need to at least get this off my chest, so please just hear me out.” He took another breath.

“Tucker Foley, I have been in love with you since middle school and I would really like it if we could be boyfrie—” the other boy didn’t let him finish, rushing forward to wrap his arms around his neck and kiss him breathless.

---

He could stand to be a little less mad at the League, he mused to himself later, curled around Danny in the cheap plastic booth as the boy went on about his own struggles with the heroes coming to town, dinner partly forgotten on the table. Their poor timing wasn’t really their fault and he got such a great surprise out of it that he honestly couldn’t care less anymore. As long as he could stay in this moment, cuddled up next to Danny, his boyfriend, forever.

A bright light flashed in front of them, followed by the appearance of a woman in a magician’s outfit. “Phantom! We need-”

As Danny invisibly slipped away to transform, Tucker fired excuse after excuse to explain away Phantom’s absence, hiding the extra table setting under his jacket while struggling to keep his gut sucked in.

Yeah, he thought to himself bitterly, he could stand to be a little more mad at the League.

[let-me-love-you-loki]

An Ending Within-Ch. 14

Chapter 14

           “Whips,” I said sitting on the top turnbuckle at Black and Brave. In the nearly three years I’d been with the school, my training routine had fallen into a comfortable pattern. The women trained with the men most of the time to learn the fundamentals. But a couple nights a week, they spent their time with me. Learning how to apply the fundamentals as a woman.

           “Start in the middle of the ring. Whip your partner to the rope, spring off, wrist and pivot, exchange. Do it again.” I counted them off in pairs and called out the moves. One by one, the pairs went through the steps, sending their partner running into the ropes. The ring shook as they bounced off them and ran back to the center.

           Over and over, one after another, they did it until they could execute the motion perfectly. When they’d mastered it, I hopped down from the turnbuckle and tested my leg. A glance at the clock let me know the class was almost over. I had twenty minutes before I had to close the building and pick up Sefina from Seth’s mom.

           “Alright,” I said, rubbing my hands together. “One of the best counters to the Irish Whip into the ropes is to lock your arms around the top rope. Do it wrong and you will get hurt. Jackie, help me demo.”

           A tall woman with strawberry blond hair and wide black eyes stepped forward. She had a few inches on me, but she was so nervous that she often forgot to use her height to her advantage. She wiped her hands on the side of her leggings as she got close.

           “We’re going to do the whole sequence. You lead.”

           Before she could reach for me, I heard the door swinging open. I held up my hands and dropped down, sliding beneath the bottom rope and landing on my feet. My phone was on a chair on the far side of the practice ring. Marek was already gone.

           “Llane? Where are ya’, lass?”

           I grinned and practically sprinted across the room. “Becks!”

           Becky Lynch walked in the front door of Black and Brave with a grin on her face. She grabbed me up in a hug that rocked back and forth. I was crushed with the weight of how much I’d missed her.

           “How’ve ya been, girl,” she asked, holding me by the shoulders. She laughed. “Other than lookin’ pretty for Jericho?”

           I laughed in return and took her by the hand, pulling her toward the ring. A few of the women stood in awed silence as the two of us rolled beneath the bottom rope. Becky was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with high top sneakers and her red hair hanging free over her shoulder.

           “We were just working on whip counters.”

           Becky made a face and leaned into the corner. “Well, ladies, you’re learnin’ from tha best. Llane’s got a great counter.”

           A thought. An idea. A desperately fun, slightly reckless idea.

           I grinned. “Let’s show them, Becks.”

           The redhead laughed and dropped into a quick succession of squats. She rocked her neck side to side and back and forth. Rolled her shoulders. Did a twist or two.

           “Alrigh’, but remember you asked for it,” she teased.

           The women around me crowded out onto the apron. Becky and I ran the ropes, moving quickly from one side of the ring to the other, bouncing off the ropes to propel us back across.

           “Take it easy,” I said playfully. “You aren’t stretched.”

           She looked out at the women on the apron and winked. “Already askin’ for a break.”

           I cocked my head and jutted out my chin. We fell into a rhythm we’d known when we were in the ring together. For a moment, we faced each other across the ring. As one, we ran toward the center. I grabbed Becky by the wrist and planted my feet, pivoting on my inner leg to push her past me into the ropes. She bounced against them and pelted toward me. I softened my knees, automatically expecting her to throw her shoulder tackle.

           Instead, she snatched me smoothly by the elbow and tugged me past her. She twisted her hips and shoved me toward the ropes. I turned and took the impact on my shoulders. My arms hooked back around the top and I pushed off from the canvas. Momentum carried my legs up and my core strength brought them the rest of the way over my head. An instant later, my feet were on the apron and already moving toward the turnbuckle. I had climbed to the second one before reality caught up with me.

           Becky leaned against the ropes on the other side of the ring, a bright smile on her face. She nodded in approval.

           Rushing white noise. The thump of my pulse in my ears. Vertigo swayed me.

           Before I could blink, I was somewhere else. Back in that December night in an arena packed with screaming people. I saw the ladder rising up in front of me, the red and white of my title hanging just out of reach. I felt the hand around my ankle, the yank that set me off balance. The world swam in slow motion as I fell, my chin hitting the rung, twisting my neck unnaturally. A heavy, burning pain shot down my spine. And then… nothing.

           It was over as quickly as it began. My fingers were wrapped around the turnbuckle pad so tightly that my knuckles were white. The skin stretched tight until I worried that the bones would split through the flesh. The air caught in my lungs, and I was suddenly reminded of the panic of being unable to control my own breath.

           “Llane?” Becky said quickly, her tone serious and sharp. The ring rumbled as she raced over. “Sophie?”

           I froze. Panic. Terror. A dizzying numbness.

           “Alrigh’ ladies,” my friend called over her shoulder. “Class dismissed. Go!”

           Becky stayed right in front of me as the women filed from the room. Shame settled in my gut. They paid for training. They should get it.

           Once everyone was gone, Becky stepped through the ropes and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Le’ go now, lass,” she cooed. “I’ve got ya.”

           My entire body trembled as she guided me down to sit on the apron. We stayed there for a moment before Becky helped me onto the floor.

           I fell onto my back, barely keeping my head from cracking against the mats. Becky sat down cross-legged beside me. “Wha’ was tha’, Llane?” Her accent got thicker in the midst of her worry.

           It took me a few moments to catch my breath. Air seared down my throat and into my lungs. The ache was almost enough to shove the oxygen back out again. No matter how hard I tried, I could still see the mat rushing up toward me. I could feel the crack as my chin hit the rung.

           “I was back there,” I replied quietly. Every moment since that day replayed in my head at lightning speed. I relived every injury, every scare, every moment when I wasn’t sure if I was going to walk again. “I was back in that ring that night.”

           Becky propped her chin on her knees. “There’s talk of her comin’ back,” she said slowly.

           My eyes seared as if acid had been poured into them. All the fines in the world, all the medical bills paid for… none of it made up for the months of my life that had been ripped away from me. It wouldn’t soothe the terror I’d lived with in those days when I wondered if I’d ever walk or if Seth would be willing to stay.

           “Of course. She’s licked her wounds from a loss like she always did. Now, they’re desperate to make up for the star power they’ve run off,” I spat. I thought of everyone who had walked away from WWE since Jon had gotten himself free. First Jericho, then Jon and me. Luke Harper, now going by Brodie Lee, and Gallows and Anderson had followed not long after. “Vince is hemorrhaging talent. Of course he’s going to throw his money at lady Lesnar.”

           Becky snorted. “The locker room is rioting. Everybody. All three brands. People are threatening to walk if she shows up.”

           “Don’t you dare, Becks,” I said, forcing myself to sit up. “You know how Vince is. He’s still being petty about the four of us who went to AEW. Don’t give him an excuse to go after you.”

           “Easier said than done, lass. Seth and Roman are on a mission. They’ve whipped up everyone.” She grinned lopsidedly. “And, of course, I’ve been runnin’ the girls myself.”

           The tears that beaded on my lashes this time weren’t from pain or fear. They were from gratitude. Becky was steadfast in her devotion and her friendship. Even though I’d walked away from WWE, Becky Lynch had refused to turn against me. In my absence, she’d done everything to prove her loyalty and her care.

           “We’re not going to tell Seth about this,” I whispered. “Not right away. I’m going to call my therapist first. See if I can get in to talk to her. Maybe it’s stress.”

           “My lips are sealed, Llane. But don’t wait too long.” Becky grinned sympathetically. “You know he gets.”

Tag List

@mox-made-me-do-it​ @lakamaa12​ @sammyfireheartashryver @cburdine​ @easyobsession​ @xbutterflius-effectusx​ @0paint-thestars0 @Echrai @themumbler​ @bigdunneenergy​ @queenofthearchitect​ @vebner37​ @reigns-rollins-ambrose​ @mother-forker​ @gwyneirastorm​ @not-that-kinda-gurl08​ @maelleoute​

[local-spoon-does-a-thing]

Found ( Part 1/2)

[(Bayverse) Optimus Prime x Reader)

A/N: Okay so this takes place during Transformers: Age of Extinction. When I was younger I loved the movie (mostly because it had dinosaurs) but once I re-watched it...yeah, it was meh for me. In my opinion, first film was better than the sequels. Anyways, I thought “hey, what would happen if reader was separated from Optimus then reunited after all these years?” And so, I did it. I’m dividing this into two parts since I don’t want to make this too long. The second part is mostly going to be the interaction between reader and Optimus. Also, the reader is like in early or mid-twenties.

You can find the second part here!

Summary: 5 years have passed since you last saw Optimus Prime, your guardian. Since then, you’ve traveled with the Autobots and went in hiding with them. Just as you were about to give up hope, Optimus summons the Autobots.

Warning: Angst, angst, angst, angst, spoilers for T:AOE

It’s been 5 years since you last saw Optimus Prime. Leader of the Autobots, your guardian and best friend. In the aftermath of the events in Chicago, you thought that everything would somewhat go back to normal. Hunting down more Decepticons with your teammates, going on missions together, having Optimus scold you for not doing your homework. Though of course, nothing would be the same without Ironhide. His death absolutely destroyed you. But greater matters were forced to be looked upon, such as the public starting to see the Autobots as a threat, which was very stupid considering that they saved the whole damn world, NEST disbanding, the ‘Bots having to be on the run, and finally, Optimus disappearing from the team. With your long time contribution to the team, you were hunted down as well. Cemetery Wind demanded information about the Cybertronians, every single piece of detail, but you didn’t let them. Now with you being wanted and labeled as a fugitive, you could never truly return to your normal life. Your future dream university? Say goodbye to that. Your friends and family? You left with Bumblebee, not wanting to put any of them in danger. If they were, then you knew that their blood would be on your hands and you just could not accept that.

You supported Bumblebee when he was suddenly assigned as the commanding leader of the Autobot refugees. Despite them belittling and discouraging him, you stayed by his side. You always wondered what Ironhide would’ve done. He would’ve probably done things his own way. What would Ratchet do? You missed the grumpy medic and him meddling about your health. And Optimus...you missed him. A lot. You missed the times where he would be off-guard by some of your witty jokes, you missed how he would let you sleep in his alternate form whenever you dreamt of Decepticons, you missed his rare laughs and chuckles. You really, really missed him. As time went on by, you noticed that even Bumblebee was changing. He grew a bit more mature, but you knew that the responsibility of being a leader was too much for him. He missed Sam, and you did too. Though you two were only neighbors at first, you grew close and became siblings with one another. After his run-in with Cemetery Wind, you knew that he wasn’t coming back. At that point, you were growing hopeless. You tried getting along with Hound, Drift, and Crosshairs throughout the years, but you were too tired to hold up a conversation with them. Luckily, they reluctantly accepted you as a comrade.

As everyone was changing, you noticed that so were you. You were no longer joking around as much as you used to. You became quiet and serious. Yes, you would still give out encouragement and words of optimism to not let the flame of hope die out, but lately, it started to feel and sound fake. Were you trying to convince the others to not give up or were you trying to convince yourself? For the majority of the last 5 years, you tried believing that Optimus and Ratchet were still alive, just in hiding. Your poor heart simply couldn’t handle the weight of indescribable sorrow if news broke out that the two were gone. You’ve already witnessed Optimus die once and you couldn’t do that whole thing again. Hope was something that you needed but it started to become something that you could no longer grasp. When your dying flame of hope was at its last breath, that’s when he came in. The voice you haven’t heard in a very long time.

“Calling all Autobots. Calling all Autobots.”

It was Optimus Prime, calling from the radio. Bumblebee abruptly stopped the drive, causing you to almost hit your head against the steering wheel. After you hissed out his name, you turned to the radio in disbelief. Were you hearing things or was this reality? Bee then started to mess the radio until Optimus’s message was playing on repeat. No. Way. This was actually happening. You didn’t even have time to gather your thoughts before Bee started redirecting his coordinate and driving to where his leader was located, at full speed. Your heart was pounding and you were starting to feel the adrenaline rushing in. Reality still had yet to sink in. Everything was starting to get overwhelming, even if only a couple of moments had passed by. This was real. This had to be real.

You clutched your stomach and nibbled the bottom of your lip. This was supposed to be a great thing and it was! Then why did you feel sick to your stomach? You’ve heard of people throwing up from nervousness. Was this what you were feeling? Why were you nervous? You wanted to see him, absolutely! But after all this time, after all these years, were you even prepared? What if it was just a false alarm and you would get trapped by Decepticons or any other enemies? What if Cemetery Wind had already got him and tried to use him as bait? That last thought had almost made you puke right then and there. Whether you were ready or not, it was time. 

You watched as the rest of the team had already met up with Optimus. The color of his alternate form made you stare at him with wide eyes as all the memories of you two together flashed for a second. Your jaw slightly dropped open and so many things ran around your mind. You were so out of reality that you hadn’t even noticed Bumblebee already transforming out of his alternate form and perching you on top of his shoulder. As he walked towards him, you watched Optimus’s transformation one last time and as always, it never ceases to amaze you and put you in a trance.

“Humans have asked us to play by their rules. Well, the rules have just changed.”

His deep voice filled your ears and for the first time, you relaxed. You could never forget what he sounded like, even during your darkest moments when you had tried to forget in an attempt to get rid of the pain that tore your heart to shreds. Words could not do justice to how you were feeling at this exact moment. The moment when you were finally reunited with your long lost guardian. Bumblebee gently let you down from his shoulder and as the team argued and bickered, all you could do was stare and not move. If this was a dream, then you never wanted to wake up. After an eternity of staring, Optimus’s optics met with your [e/c] orbs and you swore that you saw his breath hitch. 

You weren’t the only one that was worried. During Optimus’s time away from the team and trying to stay hidden, there was not a single thought where he would not worry about you. He always wondered if you were okay and...still alive. It broke his spark every time he imagined that you were dead, six feet underground. Or worse yet, if no one had even known where your body was. He thought that once he would get out of hiding, and he knew that he would one day, the first thing he did not want to hear was that you were either found dead or missing. He hoped that you were out there, having a good life and spending your time in university. Until he went to slumber, until the day that he would be found by Cade Yeager, he yearned for the day where he would get to hear your jokes one last time.

Here you were. Alive and still moving with Bumblebee and the others. His expression softened ever so slightly and he felt a big weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He took a long moment just looking at you. You’ve certainly grown and he knew that you were no longer the bratty teenager he grew to love. Sadness washed over him when he realized that he didn’t get to see you grow up as he was absent for the past 5 years. Questions went in and out, but they were going to have to be asked later. He gave you an ever so slightly ghost of a smile and a small nod.

We can talk later.

You snapped out of your trance once Crosshairs and Hound pointed their guns towards the strangers that you had failed to notice earlier. A young lady, a man who seems to be her father, and another boy.

“Stop, Hound- both of you! They’ve risked their lives for mine.”

For a long time, you stood in the same spot Bumblebee had put you. It was like you had forgotten to move. But once you started to walk towards Optimus and the three strangers, each step made your knees feel weak. Nothing was fully sinking in, yet you continued on. You held out your hand towards them and went on to introduce yourself.

“Uh, hey there. The name’s Cade Yeager and this is my daughter, Tessa. I assume you’re with the other…’Bots?” The young girl next to him gave you a shy smile and a small wave before the boy came in.

“Oh and I’m Shane, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

You shook the three people’s hands and gave a small but welcoming smile. At long last, you finally got to meet some humans that weren’t hunting you down and trying to kill you. It felt so refreshing to interact with someone that wasn't an alien, car transforming robot.

“[Y/N], and yeah, I’ve been traveling with the Autobots for umm...a few years now or so. Also, I just want to thank you for helping Optimus. Seriously, you have no idea how grateful I am, along with the others as well.”

The way you spoke of Optimus’s name gave you a foreign feeling. Later during the straggling years, especially recently, you rarely spoke of his name since whenever you did, it always gave you an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. But now, you were able to say it with ease after knowing that he was okay. Cade gave you a smile and scratched the back of his neck.

“It’s no problem at all, really. I saw the way you looked at him and I’m glad that I could help.”

Optimus stared and observed you during your whole interaction with them. There were so many things to say and so many things to discuss with you. Though as he promised, he would have to do that later. Your hair was a bit of a mess, your clothes were a bit dirty and there were some torn bits here and there from all the battles and run-ins you had with the enemy. If he were to look closer, he would be able to notice scars that have been implanted onto your skin. Gashes, cuts, bullet wounds; they were there. He tore his gaze away from you and looked towards the rest of the team.

“Autobots, we will remain here and recharge for the rest of the day. Once everything is settled, we will discuss further plans with Cade Yeager.”

And so, the whole team went to settle down for the day. To your despair, you had little time with Optimus to discuss pretty much everything that had been going on. He had wanted to talk to you as much as you wanted to talk to him, but he was already occupied with what Bumblebee, Crosshairs, Hound, and Drift wanted to tell him. All the reports and notable news about Cemetery Wind and some bickering between the team. Meanwhile, you tried to distract yourself by helping the Yeagers and Shane set up a camp. Drift had been more than helpful by chopping wood from nearby dead trees with his blades. Before you knew it, night had fallen. Hound was able to set a campfire by using measures that were too extreme for your taste. You sat down beside Bumblebee, staring into the crackling fire. You quietly listened to the conversation that was going on beside you. The Autobots spoke of any possible refugees that had come within the years while Cade was being the typical overprotective dad. That almost made you chuckle. It reminded you of your father whenever he saw you hanging out with a potential love interest. God, when was the last time you had even thought about your parents? You wondered how they were doing and if they were still kicking. You wondered that if you were ever to come back to them, would they ever forgive you for running away and scaring them to death? Your heart ached as you thought more about them. If you could just give them one message that told them that you were okay, that would be enough.

Suddenly, you looked up when you heard Drift talking shit about Bumblebee once again. Almost simultaneously, both you and the giant yellow robot rolled your eyes before he stood up from his seat and approached the giant blue robot.

“He’s like a child.”

“This child is about to kick your ass.”

“He brings us shame.”

It didn’t take long for the two to start brawling. You crossed your arms and legs and sighed as you watched the two of them getting it on. Normally, you would’ve tried to stop them and diffuse the situation, but you were just too tired. Too much has happened in one day and you deserved some rest. Plus, Optimus was here now. He could handle them. Then, you noticed the three other friendlies move towards your side, taking a couple of steps back behind you. You heard the girl Tessa comment on what was wrong with them. Ironically, that was your first thought that came into mind when you first met the refugees. Glad that you weren’t the only one.

“Lockdown is hunting us and humans are helping. We need to know why.” Optimus spoke.

“Listen, I don’t know why, but I have an idea about who.” Cade replied.

That led to you watching a couple of clips that he managed to snatch from a drone. Just as you thought that things couldn’t get worse, it did. You watched as Ratchet and Leadfoot had met their demise by the humans attacking them. Ratchet...the grumpy medic you became very fond of, one of the very first Transformers you’ve met. All the missions you went with him, all the meddling you had to put up with from him, and all the scolding he gave you because he cared about you. Though you weren’t as close to Leadfoot as you were with Ratchet, you knew that he was a good ‘Bot. Two of your closest friends, down and out. Ratchet and Ironhide, both who never got to peacefully pass away. You hung your head low as you rested your elbows on top of your knees. Your hair fell in front of your face as silent, bitter tears fell to the ground below you. “Savages” as Hound had called him. And he was right, that was the exact word that  had described how the humans were in the footage. Ratchet had even begged that he was a medic and an Autobot. Your blood continued to boil even once the footage was finished playing. 

Quickly, you wiped away the tears by harshly jabbing your knuckles into your eyes and looked towards the others as they continued to discuss what was happening. Cade mentioned that the headquarters were located in Chicago and had offered to help them with the mission. He told how if he didn’t help them, then they wouldn’t be able to get their normal lives back. Funny thing was that once you’ve associated yourself with the Autobots, there was no way your life was going to fully revert back to its normal self. You and Sam knew that all too well.

“Autobots, I have sworn to never kill humans,” Optimus said, “but when I find out who’s behind this, he’s going to die.”

This old robot always manages to catch you off-guard. In all the years you’ve known him, you have never heard him say anything with a threatening voice. A scary one, in fact. To you, he was the calmest person you knew. Calculated and dangerous, but he was calm. He defined a true leader. But he was going to kill humans? Just before he declared that statement, he admitted that he swore to not kill humans. You knew that he was enraged with what Cemetery Wind and KSI had done to his close friends and you didn’t blame him for wanting to kill someone responsible. It just seemed so off; so out of character. It was jarring.

[kyndaris]

Pray Forgive this Discourtesy of an Impression

Many of my friends - and by extension, I also include you dear readers of this blog - know, I have been a fan of the Ace Attorney series for a very long time. It began in the days of my youth, when I discovered Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney for the Nintendo DS. As someone that was interested in legal proceedings but was unsure of actually taking the step of becoming an actual barrister in court, it helped feed my very unique itch of shouting OBJECTION! and pointing at the counsel opposite me.

That and the fact that the lawyers of the franchise were also amateur sleuths, piecing together the truth of whatever crime had actually been perpetrated and denouncing the witnesses brought in to testify as the actual masterminds.

Honestly, I wish court cases in real life were this exciting.

Even back then, the idea of acting the sleuth and figuring out the intricacies behind a complex plot of murder had me salivating. It did not help that I had read Arthur Conan Doyle’s collection of stories about a world-renowned detective and hoped to emulate his ability to make rapid deductions based on simple observation.

So, when The Great Ace Attorney was first announced, I was justifiable excited. To play as the ancestor of the great Phoenx Wright? Interact with Sherlock Holmes in 19th century London? WHERE DO I SELL MY SOUL TO?

To my great dismay, however, there were no immediate plans to release the games in the West. In fact, I even pondered on whether or not I should indulge in obtaining a fan translated copy (or watch a playthrough).

As the years passed, I lost hope that there would ever be a release of The Great Ace Attorney games in the West. And so, life went on.

UNTIL OF COURSE, THEY ANNOUNCED THAT IT WOULD BE RELEASED! IN JULY 2021! AND THOUGH MY SPIRIT WAS A LITTLE CRUSHED TO HEAR THAT THERE WOULD BE NO PHYSICAL RELEASE IN AUSTRALIA, I QUICKLY PUT THE GAME ON MY NINTENDO ESTORE WISHLIST, READY FOR PURCHASE!

When release day came, I was pumped to dive into the world of finger-pointing and strange reversals where the defence attorney had to prove their client innocent beyond all reasonable doubt. The game itself begins with Ryunosuke Naruhodo, a student of Yumei University being accused of murdering a visiting professor: John H. Wilson. At his side is his best friend: Kazuma Asogi, a practicing law student.

Wishing not to dash his friend’s dreams of travelling to Britain (should the trial not be won), Ryunosuke steps up to represent himself. Valiantly, he battles against Prosecutor Auchi. And just like his descendant, fumbles his way through to the inevitable truth. That he was setup and that the actual culprit was a person hidden under plain view: an English gentlewoman by the name of Jezaille Brett. She had murdered the esteemed professor through the use of a special poison that could not be identified by the technology at the time before shooting the victim to pin the blame on our hapless student.

It was a tale as old as time for those that have played the Ace Attorney series. What I liked, however, was the fact that this time round, there were multiple witnesses in the stand and how they would play off each other. Their reactions to what someone else said were great ways to enliven up the gameplay and helped move the story along when I seemed stuck on where to present my piece of crucial evidence to highlight an inconsistency.

By the end of the first trial, however, the game sees our protagonists on the way to the United Kingdom. Having stowed away in his friend’s trunk, Ryunosuke is accused once again of murder. This time, of his friend. And by the great Herlock Sholmes, no less! Unfortunately, due to copyright infringements, the translation team was forced to change the name of the character. Still, this adaption of one of the best literary detectives served to be a breath of fresh air. He was an enjoyable and lively companion. 

I also very much liked how they inserted so many references to the actual stories that were penned by Arthur Conan Doyle: the Red-Headed League, Speckled Band, Hound of the Baskervilles, the Man with the Twisted Lip...

The reinterpretations of so many beloved characters also helped to put a spin on what I would have expected. Truth be told, I never thought I would become so protective of diver-turned-inspector-apprentice Gina Lestrade. She is a precious cinnamon roll! How dare anyone think she would actually murder anyone when it’s clear that she’s a misunderstood tsundere with a heart of gold!

After finishing the first game: The Great Ace Attorney Adventures I could not help but feel that the story was incomplete. In many ways, just like with Trails of Sky, it served as a prelude to things that would come. There were plenty of hints of what Ryunosuke, with plenty of dangling and tantalising mysteries. A few characters that were introduced, such as William Shamspeare, never got to see the limelight until the second entry: The Great Ace Attorney Resolve. 

Why have such a uniquely dressed character walk by in passing without putting them into a case? It made no sense. It was as if Chekhov’s gun, placed in clear view, remained unused.

As such, when the credits rolled, I immediately dived into the sequel. The cases that I played through in the second entry seemed much more connected and provided a more cohesive overarching plot. In fact, while I thought the first game was a good addition in its own right - what with its stereoscopic images (which was very difficult to try and make 3D on a huge television), I thought Resolve was much better at tying up all the loose ends that players were left with. 

That and we also got to enjoy the return of multi-day trials, with a mixture of investigation and court appearance, rather than ones that seemed concentrated on a single day (and were quite tiring to endure). I will say that the final episode being a continuation of the fourth was a little suspect, but didn’t mind it because of how much was revealed and discussed in those last few moments.

In saying that, the games are not without their flaws. As always, sometimes it takes a while to make the connection on what evidence needs to be presented to which statement. There were times in the first case of the second game where the hints provided to the the player once they had gone through the testimony, made me focus on a completely different area than I should have. 

I also floundered a little because the clues relied more on memory of what Ryunosuke and Susato had been discussing when they were examining the evidence, but which was not updated in the actual information. As such, it took quite a while to figure out the SS Grouse inconsistency during the fourth case in the second game.

Then, of course, there were the the inconsistencies or unexplained plot points in the games themselves. In the first case of the first game, one of the key evidences that was used to highlight who the real murderer in the John H. Wilson case was blood on a serving of beef steak. The blood was on the left of the platter. The victim however, had a bullet hole on the right hand side of the chest. Given that he had been facing the table at the time he was shot, why would the the blood be on the left side of the serving platter?

Also, how did the reporter Menimemo even get a knife to stab Jezaille Brett in the first case of the second game? Did he already have it on his person? Also, since it had been first established that the victim had been stabbed, why go through all the rigmarole of having to also prove that the reporter had both poisoned and stabbed the victim? Talk about overkill.

And someone please explain how anyone could serve as a prosecutor in a case when they have a CLEAR CONFLICT OF INTEREST! A court of law is not a place where someone can slake their thirst for vengeance. And it was clear from the start that Kazuma Asogi should have been removed because of his misguided vendetta against Barok van Zieks.

The same could also be extended to the jurors. I don’t think anyone who knows the accused or the victim personally is allowed to serve as a jury member because of implicit bias. Then again, this is a game and I should probably just enjoy the game for what it is.

Despite these little quibbles with the narrative and the fact that there seem to be a very limited number of prosecutors and defence attorneys in Britain and Japan (along with jurors), I had a fun time playing through both games. After all, never in my wildest dreams did I think that they would be released out in the West. Even the summation examinations and pitting the jury members against each other was something fresh and different. While the Mood Matrix and Apollo’s ability to perceive have given new ways to solve cases, there’s still little that’s been done to shake up the formula of cross-examining a witness.

The Dance of Deduction between Herlock and Ryunosuke was also a brilliant piece of change that made some of the investigations more fun. While I’ll miss the psyche-locks, perhaps it’s a good thing that The Great Ace Attorney has moved away from mysticism and spirit channelling to focus more on Herlock’s wacky hijinks.

And before I forget, I need to throw out a special mention to Iris Wilson, the ten-year-old child genius that puts us all to shame. Growing up in an Asian household, I’m sure my mother wishes I could have got a doctorate in medicine by that time. 

On a side note, it was fun voicing a few of the characters as I played. I’m sure my family were quite confused as to why these terrible accents were petering down to the kitchen. 

Do I have any regrets?

Some.

But it’s always fun giving voice to these wacky characters and bringing them all to life with a few flamboyant performances.

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Caledonia

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/nkPS4Kq by Mnemosyne_Nyx 5+1 Sequel to "Song of Ilium" The riots are over, Eris is dead and Bruce is home. As the League finishes tying up loose ends, Gotham’s criminal underworld has benefited from the Batman’s absence and calls for its hero. There is work to be done, lives to be saved and soon the Iliad’s downfall becomes another strike in the Justice League’s victory tally. The world and its heroes can move on. But Bruce can’t. And no matter how much he denies it, the cracks are starting to form. Words: 1949, Chapters: 1/6, Language: English Fandoms: DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Superman (Comics), Batman (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Justice League - All Media Types, Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons), Justice League: Doom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake, Batfamily Members (DCU), Damian Wayne, Diana (Wonder Woman), J'onn J'onzz, Original Female Character(s), Justice League (DCU) Relationships: batman/trauma, Batfamily Members & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent & Bruce Wayne, J'onn J'onzz & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Ace the Bat-Hound & Bruce Wayne, bruce wayne & mental illness, Diana (Wonder Woman) & Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Sequel, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Trauma, Bruce Wayne Needs a Hug, Bruce Wayne Needs Therapy, This man is not well, Batfamily (DCU), Batfamily (DCU) Feels, I've never written the batfamily before lmao this hard, Justice League Family Feels, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Alfred Pennyworth is a Saint, Mental Anguish, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Best Friends, Denial of Feelings, and those feelings being bad ones, Angst, Character Study, Slow Build, Worried Alfred Pennyworth, Bruce Wayne-centric, Psychological Trauma, Hurt/Comfort read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/nkPS4Kq

[archer973]

for the fanfic ask game! L, S, U, V and W!

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

I am a consummate "edit as you go" person (which is a habit I have actually been trying to break myself of), but I usually do at least one big editing read through before I post something. I also have a tendency to edit any time I do a reread of my progress, which I generally do if I have stepped away from a fic for any amount of time.

S: Any fandom tropes you can't resist?

Oh man, so many! There Was Only One Bed and Huddling For Warmth are some classics I can never pass up. Accidental Baby Acquisition is also always fun (particularly when an unlikely character ends up being the baby whisperer). Also, Person(s) A forcing Person B to eat/sleep/go to medical/generally take care of themselves is always a yes please for me, especially if Person A is trying very hard to pretend their concern is purely professional and has nothing whatsoever to do with any tender feelings, romantic or otherwise. (SWTCW fandom, I am looking at you, you beautiful people!) And that's not even getting started on the sexy times tropes I devour at any opportunity.

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Oof, this is a tough one, since I am less of a person who follows writers and more of a person who follows ships. But I will read literally anything @blue-charlotte (hayj on AO3) writes, and not just because I devoured a good dozen of her fics before realizing they were written by the same person, but also because she is the Marlie/CM2 shipper of my heart and was one of the first people to welcome me into the Revo fandom (which, as someone who was mostly writing “problematic” ships and was a little worried about a mob with pitchforks, I cannot even begin to explain how much her kindness meant to me).

@veliseraptor is someone who, even though we don’t share any fandoms anymore, I always enjoying seeing post updates and headcanons and fic ideas, because she is a meticulous, dedicated writer who has honestly been an inspiration to me when it comes to writing angst/whump/dark fics. Her determination in the face of The Purity Police has inspired and reassured me on nights when I am worrying about the reception of my own headcanons/fics, and given me the confidence to tell anon haters to firmly go suck on an exhaust pipe. (Seriously, if you like The Untamed, go check her out, Lise is a lovely human being and her work is a joy to read)

I haven’t found them on Tumblr yet, but countessofbiscuit gets a spot on this list because they have written some of my all time favorite SWTCW fics and the way they write the clones is one of my favorites so far, so I am 100% more likely to read a SW fic if I see it is written by them.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

This is hard, because the fic itself is absolutely perfect, but I would love to play in the world of Erinyes_kiss' 'The Hart, The Hind, and The Hound', for a multitude of reasons. Besides the fact that it is probably one of my favorite fics to date, it was also one of the first fics to really get me on the CM2 bandwagon. I would read an entire novel of this fic, I love the premise so much. But as for personally writing in/around it, the structure of the fic itself leaves plenty of room for expansion/extrapolation, without having to risk compromising the original work. Also, I feel like I have a similar enough writing style that I would be able to (hopefully) do an addition justice.

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

There are pros and cons to both. If I am going to be writing a full-fledged fic for an exchange or something, I tend to like more general/broader prompts, since that way there is room for if the story takes a few turns (as my stories have a tendency of doing). However, if you're talking ideas/headcanons/inspirations, I love the super specific ones. Slice of life ones in particular, since those can be written without having to work them into a larger prompt.

Thank you so much, @loupettes, for sending an ask! (I won’t lie, there was a little bit of ‘Senpai Noticed Me?’, because I love your presence in the Doctor Who fandom so much, and think you are just such a lovely human being!)