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throwedgenji · 11 months
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FORTNITE FREESTYLE RAP OVER BEAT SWITCH FROM TWITCH TV LIVE
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clarionglass · 4 months
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here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!
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sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)
Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 
He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?
He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.
He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.
“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”
“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”
He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.
---
Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.
With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.
It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.
“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.
“Sure!”
“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”
Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 
And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 
“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”
“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”
The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”
Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”
“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”
“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”
“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.
Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 
“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”
The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.
---
The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.
“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.
The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.
“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”
The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”
Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.
“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.
“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”
Grant didn’t look convinced, but—
“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.
Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.
“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”
Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”
“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.
“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”
He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.
“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”
He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”
“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”
Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 
“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 
“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”
Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”
“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”
“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 
The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 
“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”
Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”
“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 
“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”
Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”
“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 
“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”
“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”
“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”
Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 
“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”
His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 
“Good luck.”
---
Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.
Showtime.
“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”
Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.
“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”
The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?
“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”
Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.
“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”
“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 
As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.
“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”
“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”
“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 
“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 
“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”
The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.
“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.
“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”
He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”
When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”
Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.
Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”
“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”
Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”
“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.
“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”
“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”
The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 
It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 
Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 
“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”
For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 
And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.
The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”
“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.
The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 
It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.
“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”
A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.
“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”
“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”
“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.
“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.
In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.
Nobody moved.
“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”
Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.
Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.
The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.
“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”
Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”
The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”
Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”
“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”
“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”
He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”
It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.
“You can’t be,” he breathed. 
Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.
“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”
The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”
The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 
“Master.”
---
missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?
original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x
art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x
writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!
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bixels · 1 month
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I'm not explaining why re-imagining characters as POC is not the same as white-washing, here of all places should fucking understand.
#personal#delete later#no patrick. “black washing” is not as harmful as white washing.#come on guys get it together#seeing people in my reblogs talk about “reverse racism” and double standards is genuinely hypocrisy#say it with me: white washing is intrinsically tied to a historical and systematic erasure of poc figures literature and history.#it is an inherently destructive act that deplatforms underrepresented faces and voices#in favor of a light-skinned aesthetic hegemony#redesigning characters as poc is an act of dismantling symbols of whiteness in fiction in favor of diversification and reclamation#(note that i am talking about individual acts by individual artists as was the topic of this discourse. not on an industry-scale)#redesigning characters as poc is not tied to hundreds of years of systemic racism and abuse and power dynamics. that is a fact.#you are not replacing an underrepresented person with an oft-represented person. it is the opposite#if you feel threatened or upset or uncomfortable about this then sorry but you are not aware of how much more worse it is for poc#if representation is unequal then these acts cannot be equivalent. you can't point to an imbalanced scale and say they weigh the same#if you recognize that bipoc people are minorities then you should recognize that these two things are not the same#while i agree that “black washing” can lead to color-blind casting and writing the behavior here is on an individual level#a black artist drawing their favorite anime character as black because they feel a shared solidarity is not a threat to you#i mean. most anime characters are east asian and i as an east asian person certainly don't feel threatened or erased. neither should you.#there's much to be said about the politics of blackwashing (i don't even know if that's the right word for it)#but point standing. whitewashing is an inherently more destructive act. both through its history of maintaining power dynamics#and the simple fact that it's taking away from groups of people who have less to begin with#if you feel upset or uncomfortable about a fictional white character being redesigned as poc by an artist on twitter#i sincerely hope you're able to explore these feelings and find avenues to empathizing with poc who have had their figures#(both real and fictional) erased; buried; and replaced by white figures for hundreds of years#i sincerely hope you can understand the difference in motivations and connotations behind whitewashing and blackwashing#classic bixels “i'm not talking about this chat. i'm not” (puts my media studies major to use in the tags and talks the fuck outta it)
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choccy-milky · 23 days
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the place me and my roommate were supposed to move into today was so disgusting and uninhabitable we just took our stuff and left and now we're gonna be staying at airbnbs and hotels until further notice/until we can find a new place hopefully quickly...........im in my homeless drifter era y'all!!!😍😍so if im not as active then thats why LMFAO
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1 like = 1 prayer
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ardate · 2 months
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Every Boromir hater makes my enormous love for him grow stronger. Sorry you couldn't understand him, I get him tho and we're holding hands and the whole of Gondor is laughing at you
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wintereyed · 8 months
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murk888 · 7 months
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*coughs* 👁️👁️ ...
and two more sketches :3
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sunn-mechanic · 2 months
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Having thoughts about Pixal and Ice Emperor Zane rn...
IE still not remembering but he still knows her. He doesn't know why or how he does, but he releases her from his guards. Despite any protests from Vex, IE allows her to stay in the castle.
Pixal is distraught at his memory loss, but takes his recognition of her as a glimmer of hope. She ends up spending most of her time in the castle with him, trying to help him remember. He listens to her and starts asking her to tell him stories about them from before he lost his memories.
At the beginning, IE asks Pixal why he knows her, and she tells him, "we... we are compatible." (hoping that it would spark some memory.) It doesn't help him remember entirely, but it does feel familiar to him. He ends up asking her about it later, and asks her to teach him what it means to be compatible.
just. Ice Emperor falling in love with her all over again, without even getting his memories back, and Pixal learning to love this new facet of Zane just as much as the old him.
...might write a fic based on this tbh...
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wildbasil · 5 months
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group therapy (they make each other worse)
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okitanoniisan · 6 months
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shellxrls · 7 months
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help😭 imagine telling rafe to ‘go piss girl’ he’d call you a slur or something LOLLL
point blank staring at u going “stop with the faggot shit.”
and ur just !!???? RAFE !! HELLO ??
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seven-winged-liar · 3 months
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Today, my fellow boys, girls, neithers, boths, and in-betweens, I offer you shitty Will Wood. Tomorrow? Who knows?
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uncanny-tranny · 6 months
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Something beautiful about the word transsexual is that contrary to popular (often by transmeds) belief, it has always included people who don't medically transition in anyway. It simply is an older word for what a lot of people would now call transgender and there are so many transsexual elders who never went on hormones and never had surgery but have identified as transsexual for decades and still do. I know transmeds have been around back in the day too, claiming that transsexual is only for medical transitioners, but many elders will disagree. Even if you look at some trans glossaries from 15 years ago they will define transsexual the same way that we define transgender. Transsexual and transgender are largely synonymous with different connotations to different people. The beauty is that we as trans people get to choose whether we want to reclaim a term that was put on us by cis people, or if we want to claim a term that was created by us for us, and both are beautiful and radical in their own way.
The thing about the history of transness is... we have documentation of trans people having existed for at least a thousand years. Trans history is ancient. We are a fact of humanity, not an option.
The interesting thing about transsexual is that it's a new word - coined in German as Transsexualismus by Magnus Hirschfeld in the 1920s, introduced later as transsexual. Around this time, more people were interested in what would be known as transsexualism. It's around this time and after the war that more and more medical transition options became wide-spread and practiced. Medical transition is by no means as experimental as people fear monger it to be, but in terms of trans history, we're living in a vastly different era than our trans ancestors.
The understanding of transsexual depends on who you ask, but it's my opinion that we ought to include as many transsexuals as possible. The idea that transsexuals are the Good Trans People, the ones who Put In The Work is an idea that's based on transphobia, not the language that's used. The attitude is the problem, the idea that we are inherently broken or must prove ourselves worthy is separate from the words that we identify with or are used to describe us.
It's for this reason that transsexualism is important to me. It's for this reason that I want as many people to be transsexuals as possible, whether or not you medically transition. I personally started preferring transsexual because I see it as political, as personal, as a community of beautiful people I want to help make good. If you don't identify as transsexual, that is great! But, please, know that transsexuals are also not stereotypes. We're not the Good Ones. We are part of the broader trans community, and thus, we should all work together.
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razzle-zazzle · 1 month
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dude, i think your mech is haunted
8077 Words; Cleaved AU (Movie)
TW for mild violence, mild body horror (ghost has holes), vomiting
AO3 ver
Generally, Cole never really gave much thought to whether he believed in ghosts.
He’d never seen any himself, sure, but he also lived in a world with Serpentine and Garmadon and Master Builders. It wasn’t that he particularly cared one way or the other—he just never really gave the idea of ghosts much thought outside of when he was directly asked.
Recently, though? He was starting to think his home might be haunted.
It started with the record player. Cole’s family had a long love of music; it was all musicians as far back as anyone in their family could trace. Cole’s dad was no exception—between the records and CDs of their favorite bands and albums was every song the Royal Blacksmiths had ever made. Cole would never be able to get the classics out of his head; they were written so deeply into his bones from a childhood spent listening to those at-the-time-new albums with his mom. Music was just a part of Cole’s life, and he liked it that way—the Earth Mech wouldn’t have had a DJ setup for the control panel if he didn’t.
But back to the maybe-haunting. Cole had gotten home after a long day of school and then hanging with the rest of the Secret Ninja Force. Part of it was training—Master Wu was determined that they would all learn how to be “proper ninja,” even though their mechs were perfectly suited for handling Garmadon attacks—but most of it was just hanging out with his friends. The ache in Cole’s body from the physical conditioning was vaguely satisfying, thanks to the fact that he’d been hanging out with his friends during.
Before he’d even put his bag away Cole moved to get the record player going. He grabbed an album, pulled out a record, and flipped it onto the player and set the needle with practiced ease. Within moments, The Fold’s music began to fill the apartment as Cole finally slung his backpack onto the couch.
There was a note on the counter from his dad—a late night with his bandmates, and a reminder to take out the trash squished between the reminders to call him in case of emergency and that he loved his son. Cole set the note back down and turned to open the fridge for those leftover wings mentioned in his dad’s note.
“Jump up kick back whip around and spin,” Cole sang along with the song, “and then you—”
A sudden clatter from the doorway had Cole spinning around to stare at the entryway. Countless records spilled across the floor and shoes from where they had been knocked off the shelf by… actually, Cole wasn’t sure. The shelf looked fine.
“Shit.” Cole groused as he moved to clean up the mess. The song kept cheerfully playing on as he worked—he wasn’t gonna just put them back on there willy-nilly. There was a system to the selection of music by the door, just like there was a system to the main shelf of records, CDs, and talent show trophies in the living room.
That was pretty much the whole incident—barely even anything to really worry about. Besides, Cole had homework to ignore and trash to take out.
+=+=+=+=+
“Fly Me to the Moon!” Cole jolted in his seat at the sudden clatter from the kitchen, turning around to look over the back of the couch. His father, one arm still holding the cabinet door, looked down at the floor in a mixture of frustration and astonishment. Though Cole couldn’t see through the counter, he could guess as to what had happened—
“That was the good china!” Lou lamented. Yep, just what Cole figured.
“How’d it even fall out anyway?” Cole asked, as his father let go of the cabinet and went for the broom. He glanced up at the cabinet, surprised to see the whole stack of plates that only ever came out when the Royal Blacksmiths had a successful show completely gone. Weird, how did a whole stack of plates randomly fall out of a cabinet?
“Caesar must have put them away wrong Tuesday night.” Lou guessed, already sweeping up the shards. Cole nodded, and turned back to his laptop. Well, maybe laptop was a generous word—it was a computer provided by the school, in case a Garmadon attack forced them to switch to online lessons. It barely worked like a normal computer, and was little more than a glorified e-reader for teachers to put homework on.
Lou sighed. “I suppose I can’t be too mad,” he added quietly. “Lilly always did hate these plates.” He chuckled, before sighing. “Mom loved them, though.”
Despite the agonizing english homework filling the screen in front of him, Cole snorted.
+=+=+=+=+
“I swear, I have no idea how it fell over!” Cole kneeled down, pressing a towel into the section of the carpet that looked the most soaked. The shattered pieces of the former vase still littered the floor, the sad dying irises wet and limp where they laid in the middle of the puddle.
“I’m not going to be mad at you.” Lou promised, carefully picking up the pieces of vase big enough to grab and putting them in the dustpan.
“I didn’t do it!” Cole protested. He hadn’t. He really hadn’t. The vase had just flung itself off the coffee table—somehow. Cole wasn’t entirely sure how, but—he watched it fall! He didn’t touch it!
His father took a moment to look at him, eyebrow raised in quiet disbelief.
Cole groaned. “It just fell.” He repeated, knowing there was no convincing his father. So what if the irises were tacky? Cole wasn’t going to break a vase just because the flowers inside were ugly. They had been a gift from one of his father’s bandmates, too—Brendan kept a garden, and often gave out flowers as they grew in. And zucchini. So much zucchini.
But still. Cole didn’t knock over the vase, on purpose or otherwise.
Lou sighed. “It was in the middle of the table.” He pointed out.
“And I didn’t touch it!” Cole responded. He pressed the towel down for emphasis—all it did was make his hands damp. His father opened his mouth to say something—
The record, which had been playing an old rock song from before Cole was even born, made a sound that could only be described as wailing. Cole and Lou flinched at the sound, Lou moving to stand up—
Just as quickly as it started, it was over. Silence filled the apartment—true silence, without any music playing in the background.
Cole looked at his father, who had walked over to the record player to inspect it. “Do you think I did that, too?” He asked. Part of him was worried the record player was broken—but most of him was just plain annoyed.
“Cole.” Lou’s tone of voice was sharp. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose and reset the needle, music filling the room once more.
Cole made a face. “It’s a valid question.” He groused.
+=+=+=+=+
Ghosts were very much not on Cole’s mind a week later. Despite several things falling over for seemingly no reason, or the record player skipping in the middle of songs, the idea of ghosts hadn’t really entered Cole’s mind. Not when he had Garmadon attacks—or, even worse, school—to worry about.
The history project due tomorrow taunted him through the screen. Were it not for the music blasting from his boombox, Cole would have pulled his hair out by now. Why did citing sources have to be so annoying? Why did finding sources have to be even worse?
Cole glanced at his phone, then back at his still unfinished project. He’d been picking away at it for what felt like forever, now—surely he deserved a break. With that thought in mind, Cole grabbed his phone and pulled up the group chat.
wateryoudoing: did any of you guys finish your essays yet greenmachine: yes! wateryoudoing: besides lloyd greenmachine: :( rocknroll: fsm i wish 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: i havent even started lol greenmachine: guys its not that hard greenmachine: its literally only 600 words wateryoudoing: easy for you to say rocknroll: not evryone can remember this stuff liek you greenmachine: the serpentine war is NOT boring guys wateryoudoing: its not even that the war is boring its just that this assignemtn SUCKS greenmachine: its not that bad rocknroll: yeah it is 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: yeah it is wateryoudoing: see lloyd wateryoudoing: everyone agrees greenmachine: is this bc mr marsh wouldnt let you write about irondragon
Cole closed out of the groupchat. As much fun as it might be to watch Nya and Lloyd argue over whether their history teacher was any good at his job or not, he was hoping for a more fun distraction. He navigated to that one sudoku app he got a while ago, and started up a game. He started a second game five minutes later—and then another when he finished that one, too. It was starting to get boring, but Cole couldn’t put his phone down.
He glanced at his unfinished essay. Back at his phone. The time was 8:43. He could keep taking this break for just a little longer, right?
Cole looked back at the sudoku, entering the last numbers needed to complete the game. The “continue” button appeared, but he didn’t press it.
The assignment was haunting him. Masterdammit. He didn’t want to work on it anymore—but he couldn’t just leave it unfinished. It’d show in his grades and then his dad would get on his ass about it when he already had enough to worry about with the hospital bills—
Cole flinched as harsh static grated against his ears. He fumbled for his boombox, wincing at the noise it was making. First the record, now this? The noise took on that wailing quality, harsh and discordant against Cole’s ears. Despite turning the volume all the way down, the noise continued, scratching against Cole’s brain like nails on a chalkboard.
And then it stopped.
Cole exhaled the breath he hadn’t realize he was holding. Slowly, he turned the volume knob back—
A few seconds of static, then nothing. Cole groaned.
His phone buzzed. Cole grabbed it, opening the group chat to see what was happening now.
FI-YEAHHHH: you guys are not gonna believe what i found 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: 👀 wateryoudoing: your “missing” science hw? FI-YEAHHHH: no even better than that crimedoer: okay i’ll bite crimedoer: WHO CHANGED MY NAME FI-YEAHHHH: so i’m at doomsday comix, as you do greenmachine: you went to doomsday w/o me 🥺 🌵🆘💂‍♂️: 😲😲😲 crimedoer: KAI WAS IT YOU FI-YEAHHHH: uhhhhhh FI-YEAHHHH: okay lloyd i was looking for a bday gift for you FI-YEAHHHH: didnt wanna spoil the surprise greenmachine: my birthday’s not for another 4 months??? crimedoer has changed their name to jetstream wateryoudoing: we’re getting off topic guys wateryoudoing: kai what did you find FI-YEAHHHH: jay change your name back FI-YEAHHHH: okay so i’m looking at the figurines right jetstream: no FI-YEAHHHH: and LOOK at what i found!!!
Kai sent a picture to the groupchat of a Lady IronDragon figurine in his hand, slightly scuffed—and missing a weapon judging by the shape of her hand. The price tag was visible: $10.99.
Cole smiled, texted a quick “cool” and put his phone back down. It continued to buzz as the conversation continued, but Cole’s focus was already back on the boombox. It didn’t look broken. He flicked it back on—
Music blared out like it had never stopped working in the first place. Cole leaned back in his chair with a groan. “First Master…” Between this, the plates, the vase, and the record player—there was something weird going on. Cole just wished it would blow over. Of course, knowing his luck, it probably wouldn’t.
And he still needed to finish that essay!
+=+=+=+=+
“Hey, dude, you doing okay?” Kai’s voice cut through the usual cacophony of the halls before classes. He was leaning against Cole’s locker, and moved over to allow Cole access. “You look kinda…” He waved his hands in a vague approximation of whatever was prompting his concern.
Cole shrugged. “It’s been a weird week.” The noise of the other students was already giving him a headache. He hadn’t brought his boombox today, for fear of it making that awful noise in his locker, but he did still have his headphones—
Uh. Wait—where were his headphones?
“Cole?” Kai leaned over.
“I can’t find my headphones.” Cole said, his voice much more calm than he felt. He sat down to dig into his backpack proper, pulling everything out one by one. He couldn’t find his headphones—where were they? He never left home without them—
“Hello fellow teens!” Zane greeted, wheeling over. He turned to Cole. “Did you ever finish your history essay?”
“Cole can’t find his headphones.” Kai explained to Zane—and Nya and Jay, who had just arrived.
“Oof,” Jay said, brushing his fingers over the fabric of his scarf. “That sucks.”
Cole wasn’t listening. His headphones—he needed his headphones! Without his music—
A hand on his shoulder brought him out of his rising panic. “Hey,” Lloyd said, kneeling beside Cole. “I know it’s not the same, but…” he reached into his own backpack, pulling out a pair of earbuds, “will these work for you?”
Something in Cole softened at the gesture, even as the rest of him recoiled at the notion of using earbuds. He forced the protests down with a swallow, and took a breath. “It’ll do.” He conceded, taking the earbuds. It was way different from his boombox and headphones, but he’d rather have the earbuds than no music at all.
He still couldn’t believe he’d forgotten them. He never left home without his headphones!
“Where’s your boombox, anyway?” Nya asked, as Cole began to pick all his stuff back up and Kai and Jay and Zane all began to help him.
“It’s been acting weird lately.” Cole responded, standing up and shoving his bag into his locker. “Making weird noises.”
“Ohhh, like the record player?” Jay asked, “You said it made a weird noise on Monday.”
Cole nodded, plugging the earbuds into his walkman. He put one bud in one ear and left the other out so he could follow the conversation, and started towards his first class. The halls were emptying out, now, as the start of classes approached.
Kai, Jay, and Nya didn’t share the same first period, and peeled off to get to their respective classes. Cole leaned against Zane as they walked, and turned to Lloyd. “Thanks.” He murmured, before popping in the other earbud.
Lloyd nodded. “Of course.”
+=+=+=+=+
Garmadon attacks were all the same. Get to the hideout, get in their mechs, get out there and kick ass. Sure, there was definitely stress in how the attacks constantly interrupted their lives and put the whole city in danger, but it was a stress they were all used to. Before long, Garmadon was retreating from the crater Lloyd had made, and they were all pulling back into the hideout to relax and decompress.
Cole hopped out of the Earth Mech and beelined straight for the jukebox. His headphones may not have turned up, but at least their secret base was never lacking in terms of music players. He looked through the music they had on hand before selecting an old Three Days Grace song. The music blared, and Cole sat down heavily, pressing his cheek into the cool plastic of the jukebox as the vibrations washed over him.
“—across all of our battles, Lloyd has done significantly more damage to the city than Garmadon!” Zane was saying when Cole tuned back into the conversation.
Lloyd winced. “I—” He grunted, then went over the couch and sat on it. “I should work on that.” He finished, a bit lamely.
“Yeah, but he looked so cool doing it!” Kai put in, also taking a seat on the couch. “And besides, the city doesn’t give a damn, and they bully us all the time, so why should we care if things get a little broken?”
“That’s not very ninja of you.” Cole pointed out, still leaning against the jukebox. From where he was sitting, he watched as Jay started up a game on the TV, handing a controller to Kai. Kai took the controller, and grabbed one to offer to Lloyd, who shrugged and waved it off. Zane wheeled over to Cole and sat down next to him
“Oh, who cares!” Nya declared, hopping up over the back of the couch and landing next to Jay. “Lloyd’ll work on his ‘use every missile in his arsenal on Garmadon’ habit and we’ll continue protecting the city. Not that hard!”
Cole smiled. Yeah, Garmadon attacks sucked, but at least the aftermath was always great. Being here, hanging out in this sickass secret hideout with the rest of the Secret Ninja Force—
The jukebox shrieked. Cole stumbled back as that same awful static hissed out of it, grating against his ears. Across the room, Jay yelled, falling off the couch and taking Kai down with him.
“Dude!” Lloyd’s hands were over his ears as he winced at the noise. Zane’s head was spinning—
“Ha!” Nya stood triumphantly, unplugged power cord for the jukebox in hand—
Except the noise continued, screeching despite the loss of power. Cole winced, covering his ears with his hands and scooting further away from the jukebox. Nya similarly backed away—
And then
the noise
stopped.
Everyone stared at the jukebox. Cole lowered his hands, and groaned. “Not again.” He muttered, glaring at the poor jukebox. Now he was three for three on weird noises.
“Uh, that’s not the noise your record player and boombox made, is it?” Jay asked as he and Kai untangled themselves.
Cole grimaced, which was answer enough.
“I think you might be cursed, bro.” Kai suggested, coming over to put his hand on Cole’s other shoulder.
“Gasp!” Zane gasped. “Cole’s headphones disappeared too! I hope he’s not cursed to never enjoy music again.”
Cole stared at Zane in horror. “Never say that again, please.” Nope. No way. If Cole was cursed in some way that prevented him from listening to music, he was going to walk into the sea and never come back. He couldn’t give up music. Not for anything.
“I’m sure it’s fine.” Lloyd said, in a tone of voice that suggested nothing was fine. “Maybe Garmadon’s planning something with radios and… stuff.” He didn’t quite look like he believed what he was saying, but he pushed on anyway. “And then when he attacks again we’ll find out what he was planning and put a stop to it.”
Cole snorted. “And then we beat him up?”
Nya nodded sagely. “And then we beat him up.” She agreed. “And alllll of your music problems will end.” She sounded so sure of herself, like always—Cole couldn’t help the grin starting to split his face. He stood, ambling over and plugging the jukebox in. Thankfully, when he started the song, no weird noises came out. Cole still moved over to one of the bean bags near the couch just in case.
With that, Jay and Kai started the game anew, and everyone began to properly kill time until Master Wu showed up.
+=+=+=+=+
Garmadon didn’t often attack every single day, but back-to-back attacks were nothing new, either. Weekends tended to be particularly nasty, as this one was proving to be. Still, the Secret Ninja Force were up to the task, rolling out in their mechs to defend the city as they always did.
“Guys, I think my house is haunted.” Cole commented, directing the Earth Mech around a sharp corner. The intercoms crackled slightly as the others began to reply—
Ethereal green spun into the corner of his vision, leaking face and half-there body lighting up the cockpit. “It’s not your house, dude.”
The Earth Mech slammed straight into a wall. Cole screamed, and in the same instant the—well, it really couldn’t be anything other than a ghost—disappeared, the green glow gone as soon as it had appeared. The world spun and Cole groaned, struggling to regain his bearings.  The Earth Mech was halfway into the wall.
“Please tell me you guys heard that.” Cole sighed, spinning the records to back the Earth Mech out of the newly-created hole in the wall.
“If you mean you screaming and crashing into a wall, then yes!” Zane chirped. Cole buried his face in his hands and groaned.
“Let’s try and focus on the battle at hand, guys.” Lloyd commented. “We can talk about the ghost thing later.”
“Yeah,” Cole agreed, getting back into the groove. “Let’s do that.”
+=+=+=+=+
Despite Lloyd’s comment, they all had things they needed to go do at home post-battle, so everyone split up after a few minutes spent cooling down. Cole made his way to the bus stop, pulling out his fare. Twenty minutes later, he was getting off, and started making his way through his neighborhood.
Cole’s phone buzzed. He pulled it out, and opened the group chat.
IHATEMYDAD: doomsday wont let me in :( wateryoudoing: omw bro crimedoer: lloyd your name :( 💒😲🐦: todays atk was p rough crimedoer: MOTHRFUCKER crimedoer has changed their name to bluedabbade bluedabbade: ENOUGH FI-YEAHHHH: bro whats that even supposed to mean bluedabbade: you are not being serious rn rocknroll: the song right? bluedabbade: see! cole gets it!
Cole snorted, reaching for his keys. The door opened easily, and he switched his shoes before reaching to start the record player. The moment the music started, he walked off, not wanting whatever was going on with him to break the record player (again). Sitting down on the couch, he opened the group chat up again.
FI-YEAHHHH: but your name is literally a crime 💒😲🐦: very true 💒😲🐦: jay walking is a very srs crime bluedabbade: IM NOT A CRIIMNLA FI-YEAHHHH: criimnla IHATEMYDAD: criimnla wateryoudoing: criimnla bluedabbade: JSFLDGKFHGJH bluedabbade has changed FI-YEAHHHH’s name to fi-YUCK fi-YUCK: jay wtf bluedabbade: how does it feel bluedabbade: sucks doesn’t it fi-YUCK: okay fine ig i deserve it IHATEMYDAD: nya got us banned from doomsday for a week btw wateryoudoing: it’s not my fault the manager was a jerk! rocknroll: lol IHATEMYDAD: oh yeah cole you doing alright? IHATEMYDAD: what were we supposed to hear anyway rocknroll: istfsm SOMETHING appeared in my mech rocknroll: and said it wasnt just home that was haunted bluedabbade: what, like a ghost? rocknroll: i hope not rocknroll: life is hectic enough as is fi-YUCK: amen 🙏
+=+=+=+=+
Green light crept in under the door. Cole stared at it, but it stayed firmly green instead of the hallway light’s usual yellow. Not that the hallway light should even be on, at this hour, when Cole’s dad was asleep in his room and Cole was supposed to also be asleep.
Oh, First Master, Cole did not want to get up to deal with this. Not at ass o’clock in the morning. But he was a ninja, so he sat up and rolled off the bed as quietly as possible. If someone was stupid enough to try and break in here then they were in for a surprise. But really, why green? It wasn’t even the vibrant green of Lloyd’s mech and gi—it was paler, almost sickly, maybe even lifeless.
Cole sleepily made his way to the door and rested his hand on the handle, ready to burst it open and take whoever was shining ominous green light in the hallway by surprise—
And then it was gone. Like it had never been there in the first place. Because maybe it never had.
Cole blinked. He sighed. Tiredness clung to his shoulders like a coat, and his bed was calling for him. Still, he turned the knob and opened the door just to check—
Nothing.
“Ughhhh.” Cole groaned, turning back to his bed. He was probably just seeing things. Probably.
Green light filtered into his room through the open door. Cole whirled around towards the source.
Standing at the other end of the hallway was… a ghost? It was a pale, unearthly green, slightly transparent. Holes opened and closed throughout it, and its face was too indistinct for Cole to fully make out. Okay, definitely a ghost.
Fuck. Cole practically dove towards his nightstand, snatching his phone and fumbling to unlock it. Squinting against the glaring light of the screen, he opened the camera app, turned back to the hallway, and aimed at the ghost.
The flash lit up the entire hallway. Cole cursed, hurrying to turn it off, and aimed the camera again. He opened the group chat and sent the picture.
rocknroll: i swear to teh fuckign first master criminal: is that a fucking ghost criminal: WHO THE FUCK FI-YEAHHHH: okay so coles ass is haunted criminal: KAI WAS IT YOU wateryoudoing: guys why are you up at 2 am FI-YEAHHHH: why are YOU up at two AM 🏸🏋️‍♂️🦜🎠: shockedface.jpeg
The ghost just… stood there, staring at the wall. Cole finally found the brightness settings and lowered them, keeping the ghost in his peripheral vision as he did. “What do you want from me?” He asked, not expecting a response.
The ghost turned to face him. It stared, its mouth opening. “I shou—e—ask—g—you—that.” Its voice had a crackly, echoey quality, like a skipping record or damaged cassette.
Cole bristled. “Dude,” he hissed, not really caring that he was trying to argue with a ghost, “you’re haunting me.”
The ghost crossed its arms, but the motion accidentally bumped the wall. Cole snapped another photo at exactly the same moment as the pictures on the wall fell down.
“Uh—” The ghost drifted back, “Oops.”
Cole buried his face in his hands. The group chat was still open on his phone.
rocknroll: IT WONT LEAVE ME ALONE
He sent the picture, then shoved his phone into his pocket and moved to pick up the photos. None of the frames seemed to be damaged, at least, but Cole still grumbled as he held up a photo of the Royal Blacksmiths holding the Blade Cup.
“Oh, I—rememb—that.” The ghost commented, bright green glow lighting up the photo as it leaned over Cole. Cole glared at the ghost. There was something familiar about its face, but its features kept flickering in and out, missing-unmissing in a way that kept Cole from recognizing why it looked familiar.
“It’s way too late for this.” Cole grumbled, once the wall was fixed. He supposed he could at least thank the ghost for providing light to see by—but he was too tired for that. So he settled for walking back towards his room, glaring at nothing while the ghost hovered behind him. He made it just past his door when the green light disappeared entirely.
Cole looked around, and, when he realized the ghost was seemingly gone, he sat down on his bed and opened up the group chat.
criminal has changed their name to supersonic FI-YEAHHHH: alright bro im comin over FI-YEAHHHH: gonna get all ghostbusters on this guy for you wateryoudoing: kai you are NOT going out at 2 am FI-YEAHHHH: also jay change your name back wateryoudoing: KAI supersonic: NUH UH 🏸🏋️‍♂️🦜🎠 has changed supersonic’s name to jaywalkingisacrime jaywalkingisacrime: ZANE jaywalkingisacrime: I DO NT JAYWALK FI-YEAHHHH: its in your name rocknroll: it’s gone rocknroll: for now rocknroll: kai you don’t need to come over FI-YEAHHHH: good bc i changed my mind FI-YEAHHHH: nya totally didnt drag me back inside jaywalkingisacrime has changed their name to NOTACRIMINAL 🏸🏋️‍♂️🦜🎠: sus FI-YEAHHHH: sus rocknroll: sus wateryoudoing: sus NOTACRIMINAL: i hate it here greenmachine: can you all GO TO BED
Cole closed the chat and turned off his phone, setting it on his nightstand. He flopped back onto his bed, arms spread wide and staring at the ceiling. Without the light of his phone or the ghost, he couldn’t make out any details, but he wasn’t exactly looking for anything in particular.
So he was haunted. Great. And if the jukebox at the hideout was any indication, then the ghost was following him around. Maybe even all the time.
Cole glared at the darkness. He had no idea where the ghost went, but it clearly had to be able to turn invisible given recent events. After a moment more of glaring around his room, he sighed, throwing an arm over his face.
First Master, this sucked.
+=+=+=+=+
“Hey, Garmadorks!”
As one, the Secret Ninja Force glanced over at Chen and his cronies. Cole frowned, adjusting his hold on his boombox.
Lloyd winced. “Yeah, Chen?” He tried for a smile, but it came out just as pained and awkward as always.
Chen and the other cheerleaders glared at them all. “Your dad’s last attack totalled my mom’s insurance firm.” He bit out.
“So what?” Nya asked, leaning over the table to glare at Chen directly. “Lloyd had nothing to do with that.”
“Uh, he totally did?” One of the cheerleaders objected. “It was his dad’s invasion. That’s like, involvement enough.” She twirled some of her hair around her finger as she spoke.
“Yeah!” Added another cheerleader. “And he hasn’t done anything to make up for his dad’s invasions, either.” She flipped her hair. “He totally owes the whole city reparations and stuff.”
“That makes zero sense!” Zane pointed out. “Lloyd and his father do not have contact.”
“Yeah!” Kai agreed, leaning up against Lloyd in a show of support. “Just lay off, Chen. Go back to braiding each other’s hair.” He sneered.
“Ugh, of course Garmadon hides behind his goons,” Chen groused, stepping forwards. “Real evil villain behav—”
“What—h—uck?” A new voice asked from behind Chen. A voice that was crackly and echoey in a familiar way—
Everyone jolted as a glowing green ghost appeared behind Chen, arms crossed and face missing. Nya grabbed a fork and held it threateningly, Jay shrunk back into his scarf, and Cole gripped his boombox a little tighter.
Chen and the other two turned around to face the new voice, and Chen scoffed. “Oh, yeah, real clever!” He bluffed. “But everyone knows that ghosts aren’t real—” Chen froze, his finger halfway into the ghost’s chest. Cole could only imagine the face Chen was making.
“Uhhhh, we gotta go!” Chen decided, as the other two cheerleaders nodded. “We’ve got practice, so…” And with that, they left.
Everyone stared. The majority of the lunchroom was still as active as ever, most people paying no attention to the literal ghost just feet away from Lloyd’s table. The ghost stared at them all, face flickering in and out of visibility, missing-unmissing features still frustratingly familiar but unrecognizable.
“Why are you haunting Cole?” Nya demanded, brandishing her fork in one hand and grabbing a milk carton in the other.
The ghost vanished.
Cole’s forehead hit the table with a quiet thud. He groaned in frustration. Zane’s cool hand rubbed at his back.
“Sooooo… that happened.” Lloyd said, as Kai reached over to pat Cole’s shoulder.
“I can look up how to perform an exorcism!” Zane suggested cheerfully. Cole sat up, opening his mouth to reply—
The Garmadon Alarm went off. Of all the possible timings—
“We’ll ask Master Wu later.” Lloyd suggested. “For now, we gotta get to our lockers!”
+=+=+=+=+
The texture of the record spinning under his fingers was exactly what Cole needed after weeks of being haunted. For all that Garmadon attacks sucked and made everything a thousand times harder for Lloyd, Cole could admit to finding some comfort in the familiarity of knocking about Garmadon’s generals with his mech.
“Kai, Zane, Cole, downtown!” Lloyd ordered, “I’m going after Garmadon.” It was the same setup as always, but it worked, so none of them complained. Cole rolled his mech along, knocking down as many generals on the way to the main action as he could.
Barely halfway through the horde, the music playing in the Earth Mech’s cockpit cut off with a familiar screeching sound. Cole flinched back, gripping his hood as his mech spun out of control. “No no no—”
With a final shuddering wail, the Earth Mech shut down, its one wheel spinning for a moment before the whole thing toppled over.
“Cole’s down!” Jay’s voice crackled over the radio. “On fourth street and blondo!”
“I’m on it!” Kai said, but last Cole remembered Kai was towards the other side of the city.
“Shit.” The ghost spun into existence besides Cole. “I didn—ean t—o that.”
“Yeah, well, you did.” Cole snapped, struggling with his mech’s lifeless controls. He needed to restart his mech, and fast—
Too late. One of Garmadon’s generals had already made it to the cockpit, banging on the glass. Cole barely had a moment to register the cracks spider webbing across before he had to raise his arms to protect his face from falling shards. Gloved hands grabbed his arms and hauled him out of his mech before he could do anything, tossing him towards the pavement.
Cole rolled, came to a stop, and groaned before forcing himself to sit up. The general was already on him, grabbing his shoulders and yanking him back as more generals rushed over.
“Wh—get off me!” Cole kicked, as another general grabbed his other shoulder. The ghost flickered into visibility beside him, only to disappear a moment later.
“Garmadon said to unmask him!” A general declared, and hands were reaching for Cole’s mask. No no no—
He wrenched one arm free and used to punch the general holding him, before darting off. Another general tackled him, and they grappled on the pavement.
The ghost became visible again. “Use sp—tsu!” It urged, hands passing through the generals uselessly.
“Use what?” What was the ghost talking about? Cole only half knew how to fight—the Secret Ninja Force used mechs!
A general grabbed Cole’s mask and yanked. Cole shoved forwards, slamming his head against their glass bubble thing and grabbing at their hand. Too late—another general grabbed his mask and pulled it off completely, revealing his face for all to see. He could hear all the other ninja yelling on the radio, could see Kai’s fire mech approaching the scene—which, uh, Cole would rather not be barbequed, thanks—but there were so many generals. There were too many of them! Cole needed his mech!
“Ugh, just let me—” And then the green glow phased into Cole, and—
PAIN!
The world tumbled as his head pounded. Lights flashed in front of his eyes, noise and motion pummeling his senses. I don’t want you to be sick anymore Cole did it! I caused the cave in Bequeath bequeath bequeath Nice to meet you kid Ninja never quit We don’t always get what we want That’s not a coconut ZANE! Twinkletoes couldn’t deliver the goods You know blue! Try fire dork I know who I am! I should’ve bowed out long ago It was to protect him Ninja never quit This macho stuff is making you both look like fools Don’t tell me I have to ride this like a broomstick I got the scroll! That’s not fair I’M GONNA BITE YOU Make a mockery of our family legacy! SHOW YOURSELF! I didn’t see motormouth on it You look white! It’s a bug You need to remember Grief takes many shapes and forms Ninja never quit This isn’t about numbers No problem with that HEEEEELLLLP I’d love to visit! Is that why you ran away? My dad was a blacksmith Fair isn’t a word where I come from! Close the circle Don’t think you can lie to me We’re a team Brother sharpens brother Let’s burn these memories from my head Ninja never quit Maybe you belong together! WHY WOULD YOU TOUCH THE SCARY PICTURE JAY I was gonna eat that I can make a little extra if I do the human piñata Light as a feather Pinky! Rawr Ninja never quit I’m not strong enough! But we’re UNDERGROUND Eat dirt Bluebelle! I get it Close the circle I DIDN’T KNOW IT WOULD DO THAT COLE You like my bed! Be the key! Some sing and dance It was supposed to be my day off I am the MC I’ll turn you black and blue! Ninja never quit I should have bowed out long ago This is about family! There are reputable performers that attend clown college Close the circle We’re in this together I promised to protect him! Ninja never quit JUST TAKE THE FLIER You didn’t make it out in time The mighty Cole! A prank? Really? Direct from the business end of your own weapon! Close the circle I know you too well Promise me you’ll always stand up I’m a… ghost! This dance ain’t over There’s magic in the air I saw you stand up for what is right! Close the circle Wow Lloyd’s going through puberty It’s now or never! Close the circle Win this thing See you’re missing? Close the circle Why don’t you make like a ghost and vanish? You received my message Close the circle Ha, Look at you! Some climb mountains Close the circle Not to a ghost! To those who are cruel and unjust I can’t see my reflection Close the circle Settling my debt Where is my reflection You can barely see yourself! Close the circle What are you even fighting for? Your friends have abandoned you! Your master has abandoned you! You are all ALONE!
Just one more lonely ghost, not a friend in the world—
The pavement was rough and uneven against Cole’s hands and knees, his whole body convulsing as the green glow pulled off. He retched, burning in this throat and bitterness on his lips. The world tilted as he heaved, cracked pavement coming up to slam his shoulder and side. Cole shuddered.
After a moment, the spinning slowed enough that Cole could push himself up. The green glow—the ghost—rippled where it stood amongst dismembered bones. It was as unstable as ever, but with the jumble of images and voices still rattling Cole’s brain, he could finally recognize the missing-unmissing features.
The pavement all around him was cracked, uneven, in several spider-webbing radiuses from several points. Where before Garmadon’s many generals had stood proudly, ready to fight, there were only a few of them laying across the pavement, groaning in pain or outright unconscious. Cole looked the ghost—who kept flickering like a bad lamp, rude—in the eye and spoke.
“You’re me.”
“COLE!” And then there was the rest of the Secret Ninja Force, picking their way over cracked concrete and down-for-the-count generals. Kai was the first to reach him, warm hands on Cole’s shoulders helping to steady the still-shaking world.
“What did you do to our friend?!” Nya demanded, charging at the ghost—Cole’s ghost? No, no, just calling him the ghost was fine. The ghost vanished with a crackly yelp, then flickered back into view a few feet to the left.
Cole’s head was pounding. Nausea had settled into his throat like a contented frog—he couldn’t swallow it down. The world was no longer spinning, thankfully, but he was dizzy all the same.
“I believe we have just witnessed a real-life possession!” Zane suggested. “And you should put your mask back on!”
Oh, fuck. “Right.” Cole fumbled for his mask for a moment, before Kai leaned in and helped him get it off. It was too late anyway—Cole could hear murmuring towards the edges of the street. Witnesses, no doubt. He chanced a glance, and—yep. Phones.
Fuck.
“Let’s get out of here.” Lloyd decided, still on his mech. “And quickly.”
“Yeah.” Cole nodded, still leaning on Kai. “Please.”
+=+=+=+=+
Thankfully, nobody had followed them back to the secret hideout, nor did anyone seem to have paid attention to where their mechs were going. Everyone was too busy with Cole’s identity reveal, apparently.
Cole sat down by the jukebox, leaning against Zane, face buried in his hands. His head was killing him, throbbing with constant pain as all the disjointed memories rattled around in his head. His whole body felt like a wrung-out towel.
The ghost’s soft glow was just barely visible through his fingers. Nya had the thing at spearpoint, and though its voice had somehow become clearer since the possession, its answers weren’t making any sense.
“I see someone has had their identity revealed.” Master Wu’s voice cut through the doom and gloom, everyone paying attention as their sensei entered the hideout.
“It’s not his fault!” Lloyd hurriedly defended, among a chorus of agreement from the others. “His mech broke down, because of the ghost—” He pointed at the ghost in question, who flickered in what might have been shame.
“We n—ver had to—ide our identi—ies.” The ghost said, crossing its arms. “And I—elped.”
“You have a rift in your head.” Master Wu stepped back as he spoke. “It’s no wonder you’re so unstable.”
The ghost’s mouth flickered from closed to opened, but no words came out—just formless sound that flickered in and out as the ghost’s form melted and reformed, holes opening and closing throughout him.
“And familiar, as well.” Master Wu looked astounded—if such a thing was even possible.
“When he possessed me,” Cole started, wincing as a new wave of pain spiked through his head, “I saw… memories. Or something like that.” He grimaced, gripping Zane’s arm tightly. “He’s me.”
“WHAT?!” The response from the others was immediate. Cole flinched back from the noise.
Master Wu smacked his staff against the ground, and everyone calmed down. “You’re sure?” He asked.
Cole nodded. “Except…” He fumbled for the words he needed, “it’s not quite the same.”
“I—ould—hope not.” The ghost grumbled. “This plac—s—azy.”
“So it’s some… Cole from another world?” Jay asked, sounding just as lost as Cole felt.
“Perhaps.” Master Wu said, sizing the ghost up. “Regardless, it is clear that he and Cole are… cleaved.” He lightly smacked Cole’s arm, and the ghost flinched in tandem. “The longer he is here, the more closely tied you two will become.”
Cole rubbed at his arm. “So we just gotta send him home, right?” Even though he had no idea how to do that.
“There are ways to travel to other worlds—” Master Wu began—
“Realms.” The ghost’s voice crackled. “It’s—ealms.”
“For you, maybe.” Master Wu groused. “Hmm… that complicates things.” He lifted his staff, and played the chorus of “Home” by… Daughtry, if Cole remembered right.
The ghost turned and gave Cole a helpless sort of look—just before its face flickered out of existence for a moment. Cole shrugged, not sure what the ghost was looking for.
A fresh wave of pain rolled through Cole’s head. He hissed through grit teeth—it felt like his head was splitting in two!
“Master…” Lloyd started, “If Cole and the ghost are ‘cleaved’, and the ghost has a rift in his head…” He cast a helpless look to Wu, “What’ll happen to Cole if the rift opens?”
Master Wu frowned, then grabbed his flute and played a snatch of music. Since Cole was in too much pain to identify the song, Zane spoke up instead.
“That song is ‘Explode’ by Mother Mother!” He confirmed after a moment’s search. Immediately, his smile morphed into a frown. “That is terrible news!”
Jay gasped. “COLE’S GONNA EXPLODE?!”
“If this ghost cannot be sent home,” Master Wu began, “then probably.”
“Then we gotta send this ghost home!” Nya declared, to general agreement.
“Looking up all forms of interdimensional travel!” Zane stated, a loading bar appearing over his face.
Master Wu hummed. “There is reference material on the Bounty. Lloyd, Jay, and Nya, with me.” The three hurriedly stood. “Kai and Zane, continue to monitor Cole and the ghost.” Kai nodded, holding onto Cole’s arm.
Wu turned his attention to the ghost. “Try not to rip apart.” He suggested.
+=+=+=+=+
“So this circle will send Ghost home?” Lloyd asked, looking at the chalk lines rendered by Zane’s careful hand, then at the candles Master Wu had helped to set up. The ghost was standing next to Cole, who had managed to stand—mostly by leaning most of his weight onto Kai, who stood between him and the ghost.
Master Wu looked the circle over. “It… might.” He confirmed. Everyone stared at him. “What? I’ve traveled between worlds, not to wherever he’s from.”
“L—t’s—ust—urr—p.” The ghost said, his voice having gotten worse over the past two hours. His form wavered, barely visible at all but for the brightly glowing rift on his head. He walked to the center of the circle, and looked at Lloyd. “Ligh—t—up.”
Lloyd nodded, brandishing a lighter he had found on the Bounty. He kneeled down, pressing the flame to the chalk. It caught, and the whole circle began to glow.
A hole through the ghost’s chest grew wide, more holes appearing throughout it. Everyone watched as the glow from the circle grew in intensity…
And then it didn’t. Everyone looked on in horror as the ghost flickered in place and the circle’s glow dimmed down to nearly nothing.
“No…” Lloyd said.
“C’mon, work!” Kai urged, but the circle remained inert.
“It’s ho—peless.” The ghost lamented. “I’m going to fade—fade away.” Its voice echoed with a deep sort of pain that Cole felt even if he didn’t fully understand.
“No, you’re not.” Cole protested, stumbling forwards onto the circle. “Because ninja never quit.” Recognition flashed in the ghost’s eyes, and for a moment, his body was solid enough for Cole to recognize his own face staring back at him.
“Bro—” Kai stepped into the circle to grab Cole’s shoulder. The circle began to glow softly.
“Wait…” Lloyd looked at the circle. “Everyone, get in the circle!” He ordered. Nya jumped in without hesitation, Jay hesitating before stepping within it as well. Zane wheeled forwards, and the circle’s glow brightened even further.
Lloyd stepped forwards, and the circle lit up fully with an ominous hum—
A tearing sound rang out through the hideout as a sudden wind buffeted them all. The ground shook, the whole floor lit up, the ghost’s arms lit up orange, his hands hot against Cole’s arms—
The ground disappeared from under Cole—it felt like he was pushed through a hole too small, but without being crushed in any way. The nothingness around him spun, then Cole felt a sudden twist—
Cole grunted as he impacted what felt like an old wooden floor—and as Kai landed directly on top of him. Four more impacts sounded out, and Cole squinted against the bright green glow. It looked like they had been dropped into some old building in the middle of the night—but the ghost’s green illuminated the scene just well enough. When Cole finally processed what he was looking at, his jaw dropped.
He knew the ghost was some… alternate version of him. Probably. But, if he was being honest, he hadn’t really had any expectations for what would happen beyond the vague hope that it would all work out and the ghost would no longer need to haunt him.
This was… well.
Cole watched as the ghost floated towards—it looked like a corpse, if he was being honest, skin pulled taut over the flesh. A nasty-looking hole lined with green light in the guy’s chest caught Cole’s eyes, and he winced. More off-putting than that, though, was the empty stare set into a very familiar face. His face.
The corpse stumbled forwards, and then it and the ghost both raised a hand. They reached out, and Cole wriggled in an attempt to get out from under a squirming Kai and turned-around Zane as the ghost’s fingers met the corpse’—
There was a very bright explosion.
Cole and the others were all thrown back onto a set of stairs, the hard edge digging into Cole’s gut as his chin slammed against another stair. Ow, that hurt, and now all of Zane’s weight was on top of him instead of just his legs—
Cole shoved Zane off of him, and looked around. The secret hideout was gone, replaced with an old… temple? that Cole didn’t recognize. The floor at ground level was scorched in a vaguely circular shape, two massive doors across the room were wide open, revealing a grassy field and night sky—
And there were six figures all in a heap on the floor, the one in the center sobbing with laughter. Six familiar figures, who all slowly stood while still pressed together.
Lloyd spoke first. “Hey, wait!”
The six strangers turned their attention onto the Secret Ninja Force. For a moment, nobody moved or spoke. Then—
“What the fuck?!”
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annoyingcat413 · 2 months
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I got a friend who took an interest in me and I became interested in her after she talked to me, she’s shorter than me, writes things really beautifully, is more social than me
Me: omg this is so johnlock coded
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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switching from schoolwork to tumblr is so scary bc wait let's make sure i actually closed my group presentation before writing about old man dick in google docs just in case i'm somehow typing on both
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