Danny has lately been feeling odd tensions in the air… What could they be??
Human emotions. Yes, Daniel James Fenton has gained a new power, the ability of an increased sense to what a human being feels; at school he would find it difficult to leave the building at the end of the day without a migraine. At home.. His parents are loud, (Mostly on Jack’s part.) so he always answers the door grumpy, just wanting the daily headaches to go away.. But what even puts Danny in a grumpier mood is when a certain lonely, fruit loop stands at the front door step…
“Danny, could you get the door!?” His mother called out from the door to the lab; she was working on a new invention, one that will for surely mess with Phantom, their’s and the town’s #1 Enemy.
Danny laying on his front side on his navy blue bed, arms resting to his sides, and head dug into his pillow, groaning the teen lolled his head back, to what seemed like one of annoyance and fatigue.
“Okay.” The raven haired teen drawled out exhausted, words just loud enough for his parents to hear the tired voice from upstairs;
school’s a living hell, in other words: it’s his daily dose of Angst, and today he was not having it, considering he just came home from school.
Seconds later, trudging down the stairs he opened the door rather harshly, surprising the visitor. “Yes?” Danny said sharply, as clear annoyance dripped from his words.
“Daniel, you seemed to of had a good day.” That voice, was the last thing Danny needed right now. Slowly looking up he scanned over an expensive black suit toward the face of the unwanted guest, only to reveal… Vlad Masters.
He rather a G.I.W agent to have arrived.. But as implied, today it was just not his day.
“What do you want?” The teen rushed wanting Vlad to exit the premises as soon as possible, “Ah, Daniel, I just wanted to stop by. See how you and Jasmine have been holding up.. As well as your mother..” He mumbled the last part, though it didn’t go past Danny.
Anger and Amusement. The waves of emotion informed.
“Yeah, yeah.” The teen began to make a shooing motion towards the billionaire, only to receive a fake ‘hurt’ look.
Now just Amusement. The air read.
“Daniel.” The elder Halfa scolded, “That’s no way to treat a guest, and if you don’t mind me asking..” He continued with slight hesitation..
The rippling of emotions twisted into something strange..
The billionaire dusting off invisible dirt out of nervousness said awkwardly, “Are you okay-..? You have been acting odd.” That was it?
He was… Sincere? The aurora told Danny.
Raising a brow feeling the need to gawk, the boy mentally shook his head, “I’m fine..” his expression softened into that of a sad one as he averted his eyes, maybe Vlad wasn’t going to be an overbearing fruitloop today. He hoped.
“If I let you in..” Danny looked back up at the billionaire, “-you promise to not of been making any plans that involves you being here?” The teen said with vague suspicion as it then replaced the depressing look.
“I promise my boy.” Vlad said readjusting his slightly relaxed posture, though his hand fretted to straighten out his tie to show his hesitation and nervousness.
This time the aurora read..
Although, Danny felt it didn’t matter now. And let him inside.
Hey? Anyone up for some High School AU headcanons for Destiel?
So Dean would be the new kid
I mean, I guess y’all saw this coming but ye he’d be the new kid
Now I making this an AU where they have normal(ish) lives so it isn’t because their dad is killing monsters and stuff
They do kinda live out of the Impala and go state to state so their dad can find a job
They have money, but not a lot of it
And they pretty much live somewhere until either they realize that there isn’t going to be any jobs there or John gets fired
So ye things kinda suck for them
But then again they’re the Winchesters so……
So anyway, y’know Dean kinda walks into school with this I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude bc he’s probably going to be gone within a month so at this point he doesn’t care
But ye ppl see this scruffy looking teenage boy walk in and immediately kinda step away bc wow he looks like bad news
I mean, he kinda makes friends and makes out with a few girls, but he doesn’t have any real relationships, platonic or romantic
And he’s fine with that bc that’s the way he wants it
He kinda learned that he shouldn’t get too attached if he’s just gonna move away again
But oh gods please help him for what happens next
So y’know everyone’s kinda going about their normal lives and stuff
And Dean goes to his locker to grab his books and stuff so he can go to his next class
He puts his locker combination in and pulls the door
It doesn’t open
He tries again
It still doesn’t open
He bangs on it
He kicks it
Zip. Zero. Nada.
So ye he getting rlly frustrated with this crappy locker
And then he feels a tap on his shoulder. His green eyes meet cobalt blue ones
“What do you want?” he says, sounding irritated.
“You have to pull it up, then open it,” the boy says. Dean looks at him confused. He then grabs the handle of the locker, pulls it up, and ofc it opens
“Um… thanks?” Dean says.
“My name’s Castiel, but most people call me Cas.”
THE FRIENDSHIP BEGINS!!!
So ye they kinda become friends but you know Dean is kinda a little distant and stuff and doesn’t completely trust Cas and yadda yadda yadda
But so like, Cas is an amazing artist????? Like soooooooo good it’s just literally beautiful
Dean wishes he could make something that beautiful but rlly he’d rather watch Cas paint a picture than do it himself
But Dean admires his art
Like so much
Like sometimes he’ll just sit with Cas and watch him draw or paint or whatever he’s doing
He asked if he could keep a few pictures
His favourite is one of an angel
Cas never draws Dean in front of Dean
Actually Dean has never seen a picture of himself that Cas drew
Bc Cas is kinda embarrassed that he literally just loves drawing/painting/sketching Dean bc wow he’s beautiful
Frick he thinks he’s crushing
But ye Cas definatly has a lot of drawings and paintings of Dean bc he can’t help himself
You get inspiration where you can get it and Dean inspired him
When Castiel painted his first picture of Dean smiling with a ton of radiant colours that’s when he figured it out
“Holy frick I’m in love with Dean Winchester.”
Cas is a little scared bc it’s Dean Winchester ye u don’t mess with him and having a crush on him is way bad news
Plus Dean is his friend like no friends are supposed to be off limits
Nope nope nope nope nope
But when u have a crush it’s a little hard to bury it and make sure it never climbs back out of it’s hole
So when Dean comments on his art or says something that nice to Cas, Cas blushes a lot and is at a loss for words
So beep bop boop Cas is very much in love with Dean and he knows that someday Dean is probably gonna rip his heart to shreds
Now Dean is trying very hard not to get attached to anyone bc he probably gonna leave in a month or so. His dad hasn’t had the best of luck looking for a job
But HOLY SCHNITZEL HOW CAN SOMEONE BE AS PURE AS CAS
LIKE HOLY FRICK THAT BOY IS TOO PURE FOR THIS WORLD
Dean would lowkey protect him at all costs
I mean, sometimes he can get a bit annoying and he isn’t the most talkative person but HOLY POOP DEAN LUVS IT
Dean just…. needs help
He tried sooooo hard not to let anybody past family into his heart but this boy did it in some how in some way
And he need help bc he falling for him and he doesn’t know what to do
So ye they both hopelessly in love but neither of them can see that the other likes them and they know that it will probably end in flames
So doot da doo one day Cas comes by the motel room for some reason idk maybe they need to study for something and Cas’ house wasn’t free idk
So Sammy is the one who answers the door and has literally no idea who this guy is bc wtw Dean who the heck is Cas???? And who names their child Castiel???? Like that’s child abuse Dean.
So Sam has to go find Dean to make sure that he isn’t letting in a random stranger and Dean just gets so annoyed bc Sam I told you my friend was coming over today my god
Now Sammy has heard about this so called friend bc Dean talks about him without actually meaning to and I mean, Dean brings home a lot of random drawings that Sam definatly knows aren’t Dean’s bc he is in no way an artist so ofc he asked who drew them and Dean’s like “Just a friend.”
So Sam has heard a lot about this friend and has a very vague suspicion that Dean has a small tiny crush on this friend but he has no idea what this friend looks like or what’s the friend’s name
He didn’t even know if it was a boy or a girl, tbh
But ye Sammy meets Cas and Cas is being super awkward and stuff and just has no idea how to interact with people
Dean shoos Sam away so they can study
But Sam is spying on them
It didn’t take too much observing to realise that they both have huge gigantic crushes on each other
I mean he knows his brother and Cas is blushing way too much
So ye he becomes the captain of the Destiel ship
All aboard crazy town
So Dean goes outside to the vending machines to get them two cokes
And literally Sam takes the first second he has and walks right up to Cas and says, “You should ask him out.”
Cas is like “what the freak” and is so confused bc this literally came out of nowhere like wtw
“Wh-why would I do that?” Cas asks.
“Bc you like him.”
“And he likes you.”
“wHaT?!” he shocked
“Do it. Please, just make him happy for once.” (bc y’all know that sure Sammy is gonna be an annoying little brother but in the end he just wants to do whatever it takes to make his brother happy)
Cas nervously nods his head, now a lot more nervous than before
“You better not hurt him, Castiel.” (bc yes Dean is a protective big bro but Sammy is a protective little bro too)
Tbh Cas is a little scared of Sam now
Dean walks in. “They where out of coke so does root beer work for you?” Dean asks, putting the room key on the table
“Oh it’s fine” Cas is sketching now
Oops a blob became Dean
He’s drawing Dean
The picture pretty much takes Dean’s breath away
Like holy schnitzel
He falls a little deeper in love
Cas puts down his pencil, standing up and walking to Dean. They end up close. Rlly close.
“Dean I….. Can I ask you a question?” Cas says
“Of course,” Dean says
“Can I… Would you…..” Oh gods this is a lot harder than he thought
“CanIkissyou?” he says finally. It comes out in a rush and is definatly not what he wanted to come out he was just supposed to ask Dean to the movies or something
“What?” Dean says, not sure if he heard correctly
He very much hopes that he did
“Can I–” but he stops bc he realises that there lips are centimeters apart
He can feel Dean’s breath on his face
And shoot he didn’t even know what the heck he was doing just some how in some way he kinda accidentally um maybe went forward a few centimeters???? Um well ye uh now he has the problem that he’s kissing Dean Winchester
Dean is literally so surprised and has no idea if it’s real
Then, he comes out of his shock and wraps his hands around Cas’ waist, deepening the kiss
And Cas is literally screaming on the inside bc this is literally even better than his fantasies
And also ofc Dean is literally being softer than he has ever been with anybody ever
When they break away they both blushing way too much like gods help them
Sammy walks into the kitchen and sees them standing close together with both of their cheeks looking like tomatoes and is like “What the freak happened to you two”
Dean is like “Don’t you dare say anything.”
Sam giggles and leaves
“I have wanted to do that for a long time,” Dean admits, and then he kisses Cas again
Oh gods wow they literally end up being the cutest couple at school
Dean calls Cas his little angel
Cas is constantly drawing stuff for Dean and believe it or not he actually is pretty good at love letters so Dean gets sum amazing stuff from him
Their perfect date isn’t anything fancy it’s kinda just going out for cheeseburgers
But they love it
Dean and Cas are constantly “stealing” John’s car and just driving around and stuff (not that Cas likes cars, he just loves seeing it make Dean happy)
They try to keep at the back of their minds that Dean might have to leave soon
They don’t want that to happen
But sometimes, during a long weekend or a particularly bad night the thought drifts into their minds
Dean would just ask his dad if he could try getting a place of his own or stay with Cas but he doesn’t want to go anywhere without Sam
But good news!!! John actually finds a good job!!! :D
Do you have any fics where Lancs gets tortured/captured by the Galra? Or fics dealing with the aftermath?
I have the vague suspicion that I’ve answered this before, so let me find that and reblog it for you! I’ll come back and edit this if I find that I have more to rec :D
I Do Indeed Have More:
- Serum (gen fic, whump) is the full captured, tortured, and aftermath package (although it’s still incomplete-) wiTH!! brainswashing and possible dark!Lance on the side 8,^)c I forgot to add this one on to the previous answer so I’m also putting it here for that
- Empty Shell Inside of Me (gen fic, whump, mature for violence) is same as above! :^D and it’s double the Lance pain because a clone is made off him with the same personality and the same only slightly hazier memories!! Fun times all around
- Dream, Seam (gen fic) is canon divergent, and Lance is captured and taken away at nine years old 8D torture comes as he grows and it’s written super well and I love this one a lot pleas read it
i couldn’t get this scene out of my head but i have no idea if/when i would be able to use it so here, just take it, get it away from me
“This would be a pretty typical manner of dress, then,” Bruce asked, holding up the garment before he put it on.
“You can just wear a suit if that would be more comfortable for you,” Diana reminded him from the other side of the screen.
“No,” Bruce said automatically. Diana grinned. He was going to stand out no matter what he did, but that wasn’t going to stop him trying. “I’ve never seen one in black.”
“It’s… not particularly in fashion,” Diana said, rather than admit that those Amazons he’d met considered themselves too old for such dark colors. “I thought it would be more comfortable for you,” she added. It wasn’t as if he’d be dressing too young. He wasn’t even sixty.
“Hm.” He stepped out from behind the screen, and she restrained a squeal of delight. He looked down at himself. “This seems. Short.”
She bit one of her knuckles. “I think it looks great,” she said. “You could always — of course, if it would make you more comfortable, you could wear a longer one. It just seems… a shame.”
Bruce looked between her and his outfit with vague suspicion. “Does the length signify something. Culturally.”
“No! No, not at all.” She gestured to his lower half. “I just thought it would be a good length to showcase how hairy and thick your legs are.”
Bruce had gone very still. “… huh.”
“Not in a crude way,” she rushed to assure him. “They’re a good feature. It lets you look masculine without looking vulgar. In my opinion. Like I said, if it makes you uncomfortable, we can find something else.”
“… right.” He looked down at himself again. “And the… sleeves?” he asked, uncertain what else to call the draping fabric that didn’t reach his shoulders or fall past his elbows.
“Do you like them?” she asked, in a tone of voice that made clear that she absolutely did. “I wanted to make sure that we could — you know — your shoulders—” She made a broad gesture in the air with her fingers splayed as she said it. “—but I thought that if you covered your biceps, it would draw more attention to your forearms.” She clasped her hands underneath her chin, biting her lip.
Bruce looked at his bare forearms. He looked at Diana’s forearms, half-covered by her bracelets. The bracelets worn by every Amazon on Themyscira. He looked at his entirely bare forearms again. A tree-shaped scar followed a pale lightning path down the skin of his left arm. He looked back at Diana.
“If Clark were visiting Themyscira, would his outfit look like this.”
“Oh Hera no,” Diana said immediately. There was a pause as she realized her mistake. “Not because — it’s only that it wouldn’t suit his personality,” she explained.
“You’re just much more — he doesn’t really have the same masculine energy that you do.”
“I thought… you know.” She gestured weakly at him. “Outside the limiting confines of your own culture, you might… enjoy the freedom. To express it.”
They stared at each other in silence.
“May I at least take a picture before you put your pants back on?” she asked.
“No,” he said, disappearing back behind the screen.
She crossed her arms, making a face at him that he couldn’t see. “Would it have helped if I’d said furry instead of hairy?” she asked.
She sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “You can’t blame a woman for trying,” she muttered.
The contents of this letter threw Elizabeth into a flutter of spirits, in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the greatest share. The vague and unsettled suspicions which uncertainty had produced of what Mr. Darcy might have been doing to forward her sister’s match, which she had feared to encourage as an exertion of goodness too great to be probable, and at the same time dreaded to be just, from the pain of obligation, were proved beyond their greatest extent to be true! He had followed them purposely to town, he had taken on himself all the trouble and mortification attendant on such a research; in which supplication had been necessary to a woman whom he must abominate and despise, and where he was reduced to meet, frequently meet, reason with, persuade, and finally bribe, the manwhom he always most wished to avoid, and whose very name it was punishment to him to pronounce. He had done all this for a girl whom he could neither regard nor esteem. Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her. But it was a hope shortly checked by other considerations, and she soon felt that even her vanity was insufficient, when required to depend on his affection for her – for a woman who had already refused him – as able to overcome a sentiment so natural as abhorrence against relationship with Wickham. Brother-in-law of Wickham! Every kind of pride must revolt from the connection. He had, to be sure, done much. She was ashamed to think how much. But he had given a reason for his interference, which asked no extraordinary stretch of belief. It was reasonable that he should feel he had been wrong; he had liberality, and he had the means of exercising it; and though she would not place herself as his principal inducement, she could, perhaps, believe that remaining partiality for her might assist his endeavours in a cause where her peace of mind must be materially concerned. It was painful, exceedingly painful, to know that they were under obligations to a person who could never receive a return. They owed the restoration of Lydia, her character, every thing, to him. Oh! how heartily did she grieve over every ungracious sensation she had ever encouraged, every saucy speech she had ever directed towards him. For herself she was humbled; but she was proud of him. Proud that in a cause of compassion and honour, he had been able to get the better of himself. She read over her aunt’s commendation of him again and again. It was hardly enough; but it pleased her. She was even sensible of some pleasure, though mixed with regret, on finding how steadfastly both she and her uncle had been persuaded that affection and confidence subsisted between Mr. Darcy and herself.
“What? Oh, okay, if you have to, that’s fine. No, Cal, honestly I’ll be fine! If you have to work overtime then it just means I’ve got some peace and quiet on my own. See you later, bye!”
Ethan hung up the call from his older brother, exhaling heavily as he dropped the phone onto the sofa and laid back. Finally, he could just be alone. Just a night in all by himself. It was a bit weird though, as the sound of silence always seemed louder than any noise, which made no sense at all.
He got up and left the room, entering the kitchen and pouring himself a cup of orange juice.
That was when he heard the noise of breathing from behind him, which hit the behind of his neck.
He spun round, nearly spilling juice everywhere. Nobody. He was alone. Ethan laughed at himself, belittling his thoughts. It was dark and he was alone, of course he was going to get a bit jumpy, but so did everyone. There was nobody there, he told himself.
So why were the lights flicking on and off in the bathroom?
He told himself it was just dodgy electrics as he entered the room hesitantly, turning the light on. It was empty as he stared into the mirror. His eyes were bloodshot and had purple rings around them; further proof he was just tired and nobody was around.
He turned the tap on and placed his glasses on the side, letting cold water fill his cupped hands, bringing them up to his face to rinse it. The cold water made goosebumps appear on his skin, but it was refreshing to feel clean for once. He lifted his head and wiped his face on a towel, opening his eyes again.
He could’ve sworn that he saw a shadowy figure peering its head round the door.
But he looked, his heart pumping fast, and came to the same revelation.
There was no one there, yet again.
He was starting to get extremely paranoid. What if someone was sneaking around the flat? It wouldn’t be impossible. The flat could be broken into easily through the window which had been open for a while, but closed earlier when it got too chilly. Someone could’ve gotten through there, perhaps. He might have left it unbolted or unlocked, but he wasn’t an idiot, he’d check it over three times before he was satisfied it was completely secure.
A ringing noise disturbed his thoughts, causing him again to jump.
I love love love your Caryl prompts! Please do #5 maybe post canon? Like after the season 8 premiere!? ;) and #15 when Daryl and Carol are discussing his big lie?!? Please oh please!! You're so great!
So, after ages of waiting - my Google Docs says this has been in the works since April 25 -, here’s your second prompt. I’m so sorry it took so long, but as everyone I’ve talked to about this will confirm to you, this was incredibly hard to write. I really hope you will enjoy it - and thank you so much again for your kind words! ❤️
Tell me why
She had seen him picking his way out from among the graves the war against the Saviors had left them with, and waited until he hit the street, his eyes still downcast, his long hair hiding his face. He was dragging his feet, his shoulders were slumping, and he never raised his head until he nearly ran into her, but saw her booted feet in front of him just in time.
They were all exhausted and running on fumes, and it showed. Bruises, bandages, dark shadows under sunken, bloodshot eyes, were everywhere, no exceptions. They were all shuffling about like walkers themselves, with the latest battle only two days in the past. What they would all have needed, Carol thought, was a two month vacation in the world as it had been before the Turn.
Then again, she corrected herself, remembering Ed and Merle, maybe not.
His weary eyes flickered over her and then away again in an instant as he saw the same signs of exhaustion on her that he himself was showing. He was slow to react meaningfully to seeing her, and when he did, it was just to look away some more and mumble, “Sorry you had ta be here for this. Never meant for -” He vaguely waved a hand back in the direction of the graves and winced as if in pain, and when she wondered about this, she remembered that he’d been shot in the shoulder the day she had left Alexandria to get away from it all - not that he himself had ever told her.
Not that he himself had told her anything about what had happened to this place, to the people living in it, since she had left Alexandria that night, before sunrise, leaving only a letter to explain why she was going.
A virtual stranger, if a well-meaning one, had had to tell her about all of this.
Her eyes wandered over the many graves that had sprung up here since they had arrived. Maybe, she mused, these graves would be here anyway, even if they had never seen Alexandria, if Aaron and Eric had decided they were too feral a group to bring in.
And maybe they wouldn’t.
Maybe, if those two had sneaked away again after observing them for a few days, the Monroe family would still be alive. Or Denise. Or Jessie and her children and husband. As always when she thought of these things, in moments when she felt emotionally stable enough to do so, she braced herself for the pain of Sam, and as always it still hit her like a knife to her heart, twisting and cutting through her as if eviscerating her, leaving her gutted.
She thought back to Glenn’s grave in Hilltop, to the pocket watch that Maggie was carrying now, her family’s legacy, her heirloom, handed down through generations.
In her mind’s eye, she saw Daryl sitting at her table in that small house not far from the Kingdom, saying, “Everyone’s alright,” after hesitating just a little too long, and ducking his head just a little too much so she hadn’t been able to see his eyes - and with the light of the fire the only light in the room, it was doubtful if she would seen confirmation there, even though she had been certain even then.
Certain that he was lying to her.
She’d had a vague, nagging suspicion, she’d been certain there was something he was leaving out - but not until she’d talked to Morgan had she known that he hadn’t just omitted something but outright been lying to her by telling her that everyone was okay and they had reached a peaceful agreement with the sociopath subjugating all the communities within reach.
He had lied about Abe, about Glenn, and about himself.
About a good friend and a member of their family getting beaten to death, about Maggie being turned into a widow within seconds of Daryl jumping up and attacking Negan to protect Rosite. Had not told her about getting taken, locked up, and probably hurt while he’d been with the Saviors, on top of receiving a gunshot wound to his shoulder so Dwight could take him and Rosita without facing resistance.
Her voice was soft, free of any hint of accusation, yet he blushed - and understood immediately what she was referring to, even though neither of them had addressed his visit to her lonely house on the edges of the Kingdom.
“You wanna do this now?”
The sorrow in his voice almost broke her, but she nodded. In order to be able to move on, she needed all loose ends dealt with, and Daryl lying to her about anything, let alone something so huge, was definitely a loose end, and one she could no longer ignore, with the life or death issues handled for now.
Very slowly, Daryl started walking, moving past her without touching her. She saw his jaw muscles clenching. Although he remained silent and never even looked at her, she took his cue and followed him, matching his pace. When they reached one of the elevated guard platforms, he climbed the ladder, slowly, as if carrying a huge weight, and then slumped over the wall looking out, waiting until she joined him.
“You weren’t ready, back then.”
His voice sounded rough and exhausted. He still wasn’t looking at her. Now, instead of gnawing on his lip or the inside of his cheek, he was worrying the skin around his fingernails. His left thumb already had an angry red groove running parallel to his nail, filling with blood. He absentmindedly flicked the bit of skin he’d just ripped off over the wall and started in on the next finger.
Carol thought of taking his hand so he’d stop, but thought better of it. While he was this agitated, he never took touch well. Instead, she stood next to him and they both watched the tendrils of morning mist still hanging over the meadow outside burning away as the sun rose over the horizon. When the air started getting warmer, Carol slipped out of her padded jacket and hung it from one of the guard platform’s support posts. She didn’t speak - she knew that he would need time for this, with or without prompting.
When the sun was fully out, a perfect orange ball behind the screen of fog shrouding it, he cleared his throat.
“Said you’d had to leave Alexandria. ‘n’ before that, you were so … distant. After those assholes took you ‘n’ Maggie was the first time you admitted you were not okay, ‘n’ then you left.” Again, he struggled with the idea of her leaving Alexandria, her family, him, and it took him a while until he managed to go on. “And when you opened that door, after bein’ gone for, what, little more than a week?” He glanced her way, and in his eyes, she saw the weight of yet another failure he was shouldering. “You looked … I dunno … rested? More … relaxed?”
Heaving in a breath, he looked out over the meadow once more. It was hard to imagine that, not so long before, it had been teeming with walkers and, more recently, with live enemies consciously trying to kill all of them. She dragged her mind away from those memories - she still didn’t feel solid enough in her mind yet to process them. Daryl, she noted, had been silent while she had been musing quietly, and started speaking again only when he knew she was fully present again.
“You needed the rest, you needed … time off from bein’ responsible for everyone, so … I wanted you to have more of that. And if I had told you the truth -”
His voice broke, and she was shocked to see a tear dripping directly from his eyes onto his left hand, resting on the handhold of their platform.
“If I had told you what happened -”
He was unable to continue for at least a minute as he fought for control.
She knew, from everyone who had been there, that it had been Daryl’s reaction to Negan’s actions that had prompted Glenn’s death, and Daryl, being who he was, was putting all the blame on himself, of course. Patiently, Carol waited for Daryl to calm down and continue, and finally, he did.
“You’d said you’d lose yourself if you had to kill again, and … You’re too important, I just …”
He sounded as if he was admitting defeat. He’d been holding his breath and exhaled in a rush following this confession, giving her a pleading look.
“I don’t care, you’re worth more to me than anyone else, and I just couldn’t risk you. Anyone else, yes. Myself, yes. But you?”
He shook his head, and his eyes told her that he wasn’t sorry for lying. He was sorry for stating so blatantly that other lives, including his own, were worth so much less to him, compared to hers, but not for feeling that way, and acting accordingly.
At the expense of lying to her, for the very first time ever, and risking lives as a result. Daryl, who never lied to anyone, and would rather die than not defend and protect people who needed his help.
Closing her eyes, she felt tears pricking her eyelids, and a hot pain in her chest. I couldn’t risk you. Anyone else, yes. Myself, yes. But you? His words hit home as the magnitude of their meaning kept unfolding. Nobody had ever felt this way about her, had made her his absolute priority like this, and she felt humbled and elated all at once.
She wanted to argue, to list the names of the other members of their family, the people who had been fighting for survival by their side for almost three years now - but the words died on her lips when she saw his eyes, filled with guilt and love. He knew what he was saying, and he was still saying it. Anyone else, yes. But you?
Overwhelmed by his love for her and her own fierce love for him, she did reach for his hand now, resting her own on top of his, and his thumb came up to gently rub her pinkie once, twice, before he raised his arm, still holding her hand, and carefully turned her sideways while he himself also turned to face her.
“C’m here,” he mumbled, and the world around them disappeared as they leaned into each other, two weary warriors finding strength and love in each other.
Mark Fischbach most definitely had a borrower in his house.
He had theorized that much already, but this kind of solidified it. His PS4 was on, and a copy of Shadow of The Colossus was playing. Wander and Agro were standing in the middle of the landscape, looking confused about how they got there. The controller was on the coffee table, far enough away that anything a few inches tall could see the whole screen.
Chica was sniffing at the space between the wall and a cabinet.
Mark casually picked up the controller, wondering briefly how the borrower got the controller to the table. Or, for that matter, how they had managed with all of the buttons.
Mark saved the game. The borrower had managed the first colossus on their own, which was pretty impressive considering their size and the fact that they had only been playing for three hours.
“Mark? You okay in there?” Tyler called. “You’re nearly silent. That’s my job. What’s up?”
Mark shrugged. “The borrower figured out video games.”
“What?” Tyler asked, appearing in the doorway. Amy appeared behind him.
“They were playing Shadow of the Colossus. And they were doing better than you’d expect. One colossus in three hours, at that size…” Mark shook his head. “That’s crazy.”
Chica ran back to Mark, apparently losing interest in whatever was behind the cabinet. He scratched behind her ears absentmindedly.
“That’s impressive. And a little scary. A borrower learning to kill things like, what, ten times their size?” Amy asked.
Mark frowned. “They probably just got bored. I wonder what they’re up to now?”
The humans in the house didn’t hear two snickers from somewhere behind the TV.
And only Chica heard a tiny, adorable high-five. She glanced up, and Mark furrowed his eyebrows at her.
“Chica, what happened to your nose?”
Being a borrower in a house the size of Mark’s meant two things.
The first thing was that a borrower’s base had to be near the kitchen, to make food trips easier. The base had to be set up at least level with the counter, so any borrower didn’t have to climb with their food.
The second thing was that the walls had to be accessible from the ground (just in case, especially with Chica around), and strings had to be installed to get up to where the base was.
There was a third thing, too. Mark, as far as anyone could tell, had a vague suspicion there was a borrower in his house. Of course, he wasn’t quite right.
There were two.
Sean hauled himself up onto the platform in the wall between the TV and the kitchen counter, then turned around and held out his hand.
“I won!” he whispered into the darkness. “That’s three kisses, and you know it!”
A dirty blonde bun appeared from the abyss, then a hand gripped his. “I was gonna kiss you anyway, you dork!” Signe exclaimed as her boyfriend pulled her up.
Once her feet were on solid ground, they high-fives for a successful mission. Then they both collapsed, breathing heavily. “We were this close…” she whispered.
“This close to getting caught. That damn dog has it out for us.” Sean chuckled. He patted the toothpick at his side.
“You didn’t really hurt her, did you?” Signe asked.
At that moment, Mark asked Chica what happened to her nose. Sean winced.
“I didn’t think I did, until now.” he whispered. “But she nearly got you! That makes it self-defense.” He sat up and scooted over, pulling Signe’s head into his lap.
For a long moment, Sean just stroked her hair and let her catch her breath. They’d had to abandon the game when they heard heard the front door unlocking. He wished that they could have saved, at least.
Signe sat up. “I had fun tonight.” she said softly. “But do we have to move now?”
Those were borrower rules. If humans discovered you, you had to move. Chica already knew, but she didn’t count.
Sean considered it. He shook his head, gently wrapping and arm around Signe. “Mark’s full of surprises, so I don’t know what he’ll do after this. If he becomes a danger to you- to us, I mean, we’ll find somewhere else.”
They sat in silence for the next few minutes, tensely listening to the humans. Two more voices had joined the mix: Ethan and Kathryn. The whole gang was here.
There was brief discussion of how impressive it was that they’d made it through one colossus on their own. Then the topic turned to something someone else did on YouTube, and there was really nothing interesting from there.
Sean had been cuddling Signe on their makeshift couch, but she was falling asleep on his shoulder. Seeing as the night was apparently turning into a Teamiplier sleepover, they couldn’t do much in the way of borrowing.
He kissed Signe’s forehead lightly and shook her a few times. “Hey, it’s getting late and I think we’re in the clear. Let’s go to bed.”
Signe nuzzled her face into his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Nooo, I’m comfy…”
He giggled. “You’re the cutest. Come on, I’ll carry you.” He slid his arms under her and carried her to the side of the room, where one of Mark’s old shirts was bundled up and shoved into a corner. Sean set Signe down, then flopped over next to her. Both drifted off soon after.
The dull, persistent press of teeth. (T-rated AkeShu fic)
Implied sexual content in the Leblanc attic, because that’s what teenage boys do, I guess.This is the fic I wrote on break the other night. It’s a little messy, but eh, not every fic can be a winner. Best read when listening to
Akira and Goro didn’t often get a chance to spend time alone. When they do, every moment became a rush of taste and touch, a war between silence and sound.
It started with a click and a bell, specifically the one hanging above Leblanc’s door. It chimed overhead as Akira opened the door and let Goro step inside, and though it was odd to be in a cafe after closing hours, it also felt so… right. This was his refuge, his sanctuary–this was where Goro finds his heart when he wasn’t at home.
Summary: James’ twin sister does not deal well with what she thinks are unrequited feelings for Sirius.
“Okay. I am so glad that term is over,” you announced, shoving your trunk into the luggage rack and then slumping into the seat opposite Sirius. “Honestly, it felt like the professors didn’t want us to get any sleep this month.”
“Well, if you didn’t leave all your essays to the last minute…” Remus suggested. You scowled at him.
“I like to have fun with my life, Remus. Unlike you.”
Sirius dipped his head, sniggering. You grinned triumphantly. “Speaking of, James and I are having a party a few days before New Year. You two are coming, of course.”
“Really? I didn’t know about this.” James, your twin brother, eyed you warily as he took the seat next to you. “Do our parents know?”
when i first ever read the words “neutral milk hotel” i thought it was a made-up band. something fictional. an odd name like that? must be some sort of parody. i was wrong but i still regard them with a vague and liminal… suspicion. a sort of confused acceptance. i try to not think about it too often
Two card game enthusiasts and sworn life-long rivals discover that after playing tag team duels together with their lives on the line and feeling each other’s souls in their cards and whatnot, they could maybe also just, like, touch.
That’s it. That’s the fic.
I’ve been reading up on touched-starvedness and the importance of physical intimacy, and also realized that Seto and Yami never actually touch in any significant way, so. My entire hand slipped.
I have this vague suspicion that the people in my department overseeing my internship are letting me do basically whatever I want because they’re uncomfortable telling a known queer who’s working for the LBGT services office how to live and I am… totally comfortable with that
In the Miraculous au, Poppy slowly solve the pieces of puzzle between Branch and Lady bug. There are times she sees the similarities. If Branch smiles, Poppy almost sees him as ladybug. There must be times that Poppy sees Ladybug as Branch. Wat happens if she was right all along? How does she react? How does Branch react? WAT IF!?!?!
Listen to me. Poppy is a very bright girl, just like Adrien is a very bright boy. But they both can be very VERY dense. I mean, Marinette looks identical to Ladybug. But does Adrien notice? NOPE. Poppy has a similar problem but you gotta give her a break here. at least there’s a significant personality difference between Branch and Ladybug.
Unfortunately, scientists have traditionally endured a bad reputation, rooted in ancient fears about meddling in the territory of the gods. This classic uneasiness has been reinforced in modern times by conspicuous PR disasters such as the Manhattan Project, and by the nagging suspicion that clever technology attempting to enhance nature to improve our lives might have a sting in the tail. Society’s ambivalence about science is reflected over the past century in fiction, in which the trope of well-meaning boffin losing control of his experiment is played out again and again in Hollywood and in countless speculative novels.
While science communicators and friendly jobbing scientists engaging with the public probably helps improve the overall reputation of scientists to some extent, there is always the worry that they are preaching to the converted – the sort who already like science, know roughly how it works and are not too susceptible to irrational beliefs and conspicuous lying. The real conundrum is how to reach the sort of person who wouldn’t be caught dead in a science museum or darken the door of a pub featuring researchers earnestly describing their PhD instead of widescreen sport.
Science is the invisible profession. Most people have no idea what scientists do, and may harbour a vague feeling of suspicion or uneasiness about the whole endeavour. Never seeing scientists participate in normal life only enhances the sense that they are the ‘other’, doing things that are ‘secret’ and by extrapolation, potentially dangerous.