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silentprincessandsweethibiscus · 2 years ago

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Four Minus one:

Chapter 3- Arson is a Totally Valid Pastime: Just a little lighthearted fun amongst the chaos squad, what could possibly go wrong?

And its done! this chapter took so much longer to write than i anticipated. it was giving me trouble right from the get-go, and then another hyper fixation decided to consume my whole brain for about a month, so im just glad to be putting this one up tbh. the next one is already in the works, and going better then this did, and the one after that is done, so fingers crossed i shouldnt disappear for over a month again.

The group of Links had fallen into an easy rhythm. Working in a team was a bit difficult for some of them, but a larger chunk than Four had expected fell into it at least somewhat naturally. Warriors, Sky, and surprisingly Wild all attributed it to being knights. Or at least, in Wild’s case, having the muscle memory of being a knight. Time vaguely mentioned something about a War. Wind talked about his life at sea. Twilight joked that it was no different to herding the kids back home, and refused to elaborate on if he meant goats or Hylian kids. Legend and Hyrule were the only two that really struggled with it. Although, it was easy enough to drag Wild and Wind into some kind of trouble as well.

Which is exactly what was happening now. Wild, Wind, and Hyrule were all trying to talk Four into helping them with, something. They were honestly a bit unsure, with the three of them all talking over each other, but Wild had promised vegetable risotto for dinner if they helped, and there was no way Four was about to turn that down.

“I still don’t understand what it is you even need me for.” They looked up at the three, book open in their lap. Wild had not waited for Four to acknowledge them before they started talking, so Four had been unable to put it away before starting this conversation, and they were honestly a bit glad it wasn’t in Hylian, as they were pretty sure none of the three knew any other languages.

“Because it’s, like,” Wind thought about it for a moment. “It's like an experiment! Come on Four, you love those!”

“Plus,” Hyrule added, “Time says we need a ‘responsible Link’ if we are gonna walk away from camp to do anything with fire.” Four was fairly certain that Hyrule was adding on a bonus reason, not implying that Four wouldn’t also enjoy whatever chaos they wanted to get into, but they still raised their eyebrow in question of the phrasing.

Wild also recognized how that sentence could be misconstrued and elbowed Hyrule in the side. “But we were totally gonna invite you to help us anyways.”

Four laughed at that. “You better.” They gave the other three a wicked grin and dropped their voice to just above a whisper. “But, the longer Time, Twilight, and Warriors think I’m responsible the better. For all four of us.”

They got matching grins back from Wild and Hyrule, and a hearty “Whoop!” from Wind as they packed their book back away, and the four of them set off, away from camp. It was at this point that Four realized each of them had a flaming item in hand. Wild had a meteor rod, Wind his bow, and Hyrule had a fire rod Four was almost certain fea had ‘borrowed’ from Legend.

As they walked, Four put some thought into it before pulling out their gust jar. “You three seem to have the fire covered, I’ve got this. Can put it out real quick if I need to be the responsible one, but that’s not the only thing it can do.”

As they got to the clearing Wild started pulling out firewood. “You are on ‘documentation’ and ‘put out’ duty then. We wanna see which item can make the biggest blaze before it runs out. Twenty bundles of wood for each of us should be a decent start.”

“Only twenty?” Hyrule raised an eyebrow. “We use like, three or four to start the campfire.”

“Yea,” Wind nodded, practically vibrating as he bounced around from foot to foot. “I feel like twenty is lowballing it a bit Wild.” Four laughed. “I’m with Wild. We want to see which item will make the largest blaze, not start a forest fire.” Pulling out one of their journals from their pack they began drawing up some charts to record the coming information on. “Twenty is more than enough to start.”

Wind blew a raspberry at Four. “Aw come on man, what happened to you not being a responsible Link?” “This isn’t responsible, this is knowing that starting a forest fire would skew our results.” They looked up from the journal. “I want accuracy.”

“And I don’t want an earful from Legend later.” Hyrule added with a chuckle, seeming like fae had just considered how upset faer’s predecessor would be if they got into any trouble out here.

“Right.” Wild nodded as they put down the last pile, all three of them set evenly around the clearing. “Then that's settled. There’s huge areas without trees in both mine and Rulie’s eras if we need to replicate this with a bigger pile later.” “This is a test experiment for the time being.” Four added with a nod. They stood in the middle of the clearing, gust jar at the ready, taking notes as the other three worked. They had to chase down several misfires from Wilds meteor rod, and it was the first to break. Followed by Hyrules magic for the fire rod running out, then Winds fire arrows. The blazes all seemed the same at the end of it, which would say some interesting things about the meteor rod, but all three of the fires seemed to be as big as they were gonna get without more wood, so the results were largely inconclusive.

Four mused that when they had the chance they would have to replicate the experiment with a few different wood pile sizes as Hyrule drank a potion for the magic depletion and the other two packed up their stuff. Four began to mumble to themself, scratching more notes into their journal while trying to block out Wind and Wilds roughhousing in the background.

Wild said something and there was a blissful moment of silence from their friends before Four heard the telltale whistle of an arrow and felt someone shove them. Snapping back into focus, and throwing the journal into their pouch with practiced ease, Four made a quick check of their surroundings. They noted Hyrule in front of them, faer’s reflect spell dissipating after a moment, Wild was to their left, and Wind in place beside Hyrule. All four heroes pulled out their swords, just in time for the clearing to fill with Wind’s era’s miniblin. Further assessment determined the arrows to be coming from a few of Sky’s bokoblins hiding between the trees.

The four of them quickly got to work, dancing around each other and taking out the miniblins, but the archers were creating a decent obstacle. They managed to cut the miniblins' numbers down by about a quarter, but the fewer of them there were the easier it became for the bokoblins to hit the heroes, instead of their own allies. An arrow managed to strike true, hitting Wind in the leg, making him stumble and miss the miniblin he was aiming for. Four jumped in to cover for him as he shouted obscenities that would make Blue both proud and horrified.

Wind took the cover to yank the arrow out and glared at the trees. “We need to take out the archers!”

There was a flash of blue as Wild exchanged their sword for a bow. “Four, you and I take them?” “Agreed. Wind, you’ve got me.” It was a statement, not a question, but Wind still nodded as he and Four traded places so Four could exchange their own weapons out. “I've got the Eastern half if you have the Western?”

Wild didn’t respond as they got into position, and the two still fighting with swords got back into a rhythm of covering them from miniblin attacks as they worked. Soon enough the bokoblin archers were dealt with, and the two Hylian archers turned their bows on the closer threat.

“At least these all seem to be normal monsters,” Wind chimed in as he took out another one, “None of them seem to have black blood.” “Don’t jinx us sailor, the fights not over yet.” Four shouted as they shot a miniblin rounding on Hyrule. On que there was a booming roar and the group felt the ground shake. Fortunately for the heroes, the few remaining miniblins all shrieked and scattered. Unfortunately for them, a moment later a lynel entered the clearing.

“Shit! It's one of mine!” Wild replaced their bow for the oddest looking weapon Four had ever seen as they dodged an attack from their newest opponent. “Everyone scatter! Take it from different sides, and whatever you do, avoid its front!”

They watched as Wild immediately did exactly the opposite of what they just warned, crouching down right in the lynel’s path, and as Hyrule ran to the monster left, fae yelled in horror. “What are you doing?”

Wind and Four took the right as Wild shot up with a burst of air. The lynel stopped suddenly when its target shot out of view, giving the other three time to strike before it roared and turned to the biggest threat, shooting fire breath at the spot Four and Wind were in. Four yelped and jumped to its left, and Wind to its right. With Hyrule now at its back the three managed a few more hits before a blur flew down towards the monster's back. Despite its size Wild managed to slam the strange weapon against it several times in quick succession before the lynel finally dropped in a puff of smoke.

There were a few tense moments as they all waited for something else to come out of the woods. When nothing did Hyrule rounded on Wind and pointed at the ground. Wind threw up his hands and took a step back. “Whoa, whoa, I’m fine. Let's get back to camp first.”

“Unwise.” Four looked down at the spot where the arrow had pierced Wind. “Time and Warriors are already going to fuss over that wound as is. Would you prefer it to be open when they do? That would just give them more of a reason.”

There was a bark before Wolfie tried to gently make Wind sit with his paw. “See,” Wild added, “Even Wolfie agrees with Four.” There was a pause as Wind agreed with a grumble before Wild processed what they just said. “Oh Fuck! Wolfie!”

Wild’s wolf companion fixed them with an exasperated glare, barked once, booped Hyrule’s ankle with his nose, then fixed his glare back on Wild. Hyrule just nodded in response. “Read you loud and clear Wolfie. Wild, you're next.”

“No need. I just slammed it a bit hard on my landing there.” They pulled out their slate and started swiping the screen. “I just need a red potion. Four, do you need one?”

Four shook their head in response. “Nah, just some scrapes and bruises over here. I’ll probably bandage up a few of them when we get back to camp, but no need to waste a potion on any of it.”

“I want to look you over first, but you’re right, no need to waste a potion on that.” Hyrule nodded as fae healed up Wind’s leg.

Four agreed and Hyrule made quick work of checking them all over. Once fae declared them all clear enough to head back they turned to follow Wolfie back to camp. Sure that the four heroes were following him, the wolf shot off ahead, presumably to let the others know they were all fine and on their way back.

“So.” Wind dragged the single syllable out to an almost outrageous degree before continuing with a sigh. “How much trouble do you think we’re in?”

“I think that is entirely dependent on how long Wolfie was there.” Four mused. “Because if he saw the experiment, we might just be fucked.”

Wind snorted at their cursing as Wild shook their head. “He would have stepped in earlier if he was watching the whole time. He must have come when he heard the lynel.”

“It’s a wonder he’s the only one who came.” Hyrule was still on high alert, eyes and ears to the forest as they walked, but luckily whatever monsters had survived the encounter seem to have well and truly fled.

“We are all capable heroes, the others probably just sent Wolfie ahead as a precaution.” All of them, save Wild, Four supposed, had multiple quests under their belts, there was no reason for the others to second guess their abilities.

“Fours right! It was just one Lynel, we have all dealt with worse individually.” Wind was annoyed at the prospect of the others not trusting them to handle themselves. “It’d be pretty rude of them to assume we couldn’t handle it.”

“Right,” Wild nods in agreement, “So they probably sent Wolfie while they all got ready to go if there was a problem, since he’s the fastest.”

“Or they sent him because of that.” Hyrule interrupted the others' current trail of thought to point out the portal sitting dead center in the middle of their camp, or what was left of it anyways. While they had been fighting monsters in the woods the other Links had been packing up all their stuff so they could all move quickly once they got back.

Time tossed Wind his bag while Sky and Legend handed Four and Hyrule theirs. “Any injuries?”

“Nothing I haven't already dealt with.” Legend was fussing over Hyrule, despite faer’s confirmation that they were all fine, and Four couldn’t help but chuckle at how much of a mother cucco he was when it came to Hyrule. “The four of us are all right to go.”

“Alright, good. We’ll discuss further what happened once we have settled in on the other side.” Time nodded in approval and moved towards the portal. “Alright, everyone, buddy up.” Four whispered to Wild as they and Sky walked past to take their place in line. “I’d better still be getting my vegetable risotto.”

Wild laughed as Twilight tilted his head in confusion next to them. “Don’t worry smithy, a promise is a promise. Dinners your call tonight.”

Four almost felt bad about the disappointed look on Twilight's face at that. “Good.” Almost. They smirked at their little victory. The small group's little arson detour didn’t actually have any discernible results, but they certainly had quite a few new notes for the journal they had been keeping on the other heroes, so the bribery was really unnecessary, but they wouldn’t be giving up their prize regardless. Four and Sky were the last two through the portal, and the others were already setting up camp on the other side, Wild's cooking pot set up with a small fire heating it from underneath.

#linked universe #my work #fic #four #wild #hyrule #wind #and more but this chapter focuses on those four #one verse

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public-school-quotes · 2 years ago

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(submitted by someone i wish i could tag not my shit whoever did this because tumblr won’t let me see it i love you)

i am just going to make a masterpost of my school’s shenanigans

a: “ill tell you where its from after we get outta hearing range of (teacher). dont wanna get in trouble“ has gotten in trouble for swearing^

b: “(name) most of the things you say would get you in trouble”

a: “.. fair”

c (teacher) was proctoring and so we were in another classroom. he walked in, and immediately said “whats up knuckleheads”

d: “bbq beans???? its 07:11!!!”

e: “yeah”

f: “hand or mouth?”

g: “teeth”

f: “no”

h: “no”

a“please add arson (to a story) if you didn’t already”

b“that’s their first date wtf”

b“i want to add a dark turn to my story but half of the characters are already dead”

a “kill another”

b “hes gonna die later!”

a “whats wrong with a necromancy”

b“he already died once already!”

a“whats wrong with a SECOND necromancy?”

b“he only has 9 lives”

a“what about 100th necromancy?”

a“stab and run!”- quoting a list of crimes

b“thats a 6 year old”

a“what”

b”ripping out organs wasnt an issue”

a”oh thats just tuesday!”

b”what are you scared of?”

a“someone opening my writing app and reading it… (this bitch wrote porn!)and also the koolaid man.”

b”ohyeah”

(about pot stickers (the food)at school)

a “the outside of this tastes like pasta… lasagna ass bitch”

d: a

a: yea?

d: go home!

a: ok (turns around and leaves, mom picked her up)

“let go of the tree!”

“it makes oxygen for me i love it”

i just. saw a kid taking a swig of honey. it is nine in the morning. why. i am in fear

a “i dont care if its good i care if its done because mine sure isnt”

b “insurance???”

b “but seriously. how do you tone (english class)”

a “………….. aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”

c “austria said ‘its mine! kick rocks.’”

c “austria said ‘i want to control it all because i have problems and therapy doesn’t exist yet’”

c “idk what you learn in b r a i n c l a s s” about psychology

i “i will cut out your spleen if you dont”

a “…”

i “jokes on u im into that shit”

a “do i even have a spleen?????”

i “NOT WHEN IM DONE WITH YOU!!! YOU WONT HAVE A PROBOSCUS. wait do you know how to spell that cuz i sure dont”

c throwing a basketball at the hoop “LEEBRON”

he missed

c “for michael jacksons legacy” missed bball shot

c “theres some guy! hanging from a Thing there!”

c “hes crying on a donkey! name something more sad!”

a“crying not on a donkey, donkeys are expensive”

a kid showed off his playboy hoodie to our teacher. she did not know where the logo is from and he walks a free man

a (hands croc to a mf): i entrust you with this to protect yourself and the money

g immediately: threateans a known kleptomaniac with the croc in defence of 5 high-schoolers pizza money

i took a yearbook picture of my friend pretending to draw in a notebook with a stylus for a touchscreen. will they notice? will they put it in the yearbook? who knows! only time will tell!

a “the pile of ppl are growing!”

a “there is a guy on the floor here. .. he is scuttling..”

g “hey colonoscopy man. leave.”

colonoscopy man “you talked to jesus didn’t you”

g “colonoscopy man leave”

j “stop mistreating- manhandling my banana”

honorable mention: molotov soaptail which caused emotional support among us

#submission #i am sorry for this much stuff my school is floridian #public school #school #quotes #inspirational #inspiring quotes #teachers #teacher #school quotes #i love you #i support every decision you make #do it #except not the bad things #be alive #being alive is great

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ourflagmeansgayrights · 1 year ago

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i definitely think this is a really good rough estimate of the timeline, but also i doubt that we're ever gonna have much more of an answer than this. but also im gonna poke some holes in some of the reasoning lol:

we don't know for sure that "consecutive raids" meant "one raid per day." stede and his crew raid two ships in e5, and im pretty sure that episode takes place over one day. ed could've done 88 consecutive raids in like, 50 days or something.

giving taika dead person makeup in e3 is probably more about vibes than realistically depicting what dead people look like after a certain period of time

pretty sure the crew tried to eat the swede after a few hours in s1e10 so honestly the realism of "how long has it been that the crew got desperate enough to eat a bird raw?" is moot imo. pretty sure the seagull is more abt symbolism and the crew's guilt over killing ed (smthng smthng myths abt seagulls being the souls of dead sailors or whatever), kinda like how the crew trying so hard to scrub the blood out of the perfectly clean deck of the ship was a very macbeth "out damned spot" moment

considering lucius named "arson" as one of the things on ed's wanted poster and yet arson is not actually there on the paper at all i dont think the poster can rlly be used for evidence of anything except silly jokes the writers/prop guys made up. in-universe some of these couldve even happened before ed and stede even met.

hi! I've come back to posting on tumblr just cause of OFMD and your blog is amazing thank you!! I have a question I might have missed- do we know how much time has gone by from the ending events in s1 to the beginning of s2?

nope. that's the sort of thing the show just kinda shrugs about lol

#txt #pic #mine #og #meta #edward teach #s2e01 #s2e02 #s2e03 #s2e04 #ofmd s2 spoilers

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rosepetalgold · 3 years ago

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indigo skies above us (smile down upon us)

Summary: After the rest of the group bails on an evening out, Roman and Logan set off to find something to do and quickly find themselves in the middle of a night they won’t soon forget.

Relationships: Logince

Warnings: Brief sexual language courtesy of Remus

Word count: 5879

Notes: Day 4 of Logince Week 2022 for the free day slot. Takes place during spring semester of junior year (3rd year) of college. Remus uses xe/xem/xyr pronouns; Janus uses they/he/she pronouns; all other sides use he/him pronouns at this point.

Read on Ao3

Masterpost

Shades of Blue and Red

start - previous - you're here! - next

Roman had a good feeling about tonight. He couldn’t describe it other than that, really, just that there was something else fluttering in his chest beyond the usual excitement of an evening out with his friends. He might call it a sense of destiny, if he was feeling particularly fanciful and didn’t mind being immediately teased by everyone except Patton.

Nights out with the whole group had become much rarer now that they were all juniors and busy with higher-level courses, and this particular evening had been planned well in advance, the date painstakingly set around exams and work schedules and theater practices and everything else they had going on.

So of course, given Roman’s good mood and the scheduling gymnastics it had taken to arrange this outing, fate had seen fit to intervene.

Patton had dropped out first that afternoon with a text to the group chat, over-apologizing for not feeling well and insisting that everyone else go out without him. Virgil had done the same about an hour before they were supposed to meet, albeit with a much less emotional text, having been called in to cover a shift at his job since half the other student workers were out with the same cold Patton had.

It was down to four of them, then, and Roman had a sneaking suspicion – scratch that, a raging certainty – that he and Logan were going to feel like third wheels to Janus and Remus. But it felt like forever since he’d gotten to go out with his friends, even if they were down two members of the group, so Roman was still in good spirits.

He shifts his weight between his feet where he’s waiting at their regular meet-up spot just off campus, fiddling the zipper of his jacket up and down and up again just to have something to do with his hands. He’s actually gotten here early for once, thanks to a plethora of reminders on his phone, too excited about the night to risk losing track of time and being late like he normally was, and now he has nothing else to do while he waits for the others.

His phone chimes and he digs it out of his pocket to see a text from Remus:

trash rat man: sry bro cant come arson beckons

Roman huffs, typing out a quick reply.

Princey: you suck

Then, because he isn’t entirely sure if Remus is joking or not,

Princey: please don’t get arrested, I don’t have the money to bail you out

Remus just shoots back a string of grinning emojis that don’t do a single thing to assuage Roman’s apprehension.

trash rat man: yes i do suck and im excellent at it

trash rat man: just ask jan

trash rat man: u wish u could suck like me

Roman gags aloud at that mental image, sure to fuel his nightmares for weeks. He did not need to hear about his brother’s sex life. He’d been unfortunate to witness it plenty before he’d finally had enough and instituted a non-negotiable No Sex rule in their suite.

“Is everything okay?”

He glances up to find that Logan has appeared in front of him and is casting him a questionable look.

“Remus just bailed,” Roman informs him, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “And that means Janus is out too, since those two are practically joined at the hip.”

“So it’s just … you and me?”

There’s something off in Logan’s voice, an undertone to it that Roman can’t quite read, but he doubts it’s anything good, and his stomach twists. Of course Logan wouldn’t want to hang out with just him, of course he has better things to do with his time. He tries his best to keep the disappointment in his voice hidden under a veneer of breeziness.

“I guess so,” he says. “We can just call it off if you want; I know you probably have lots of studying to do–”

“No!” Logan cuts him off, then bites his lip like he wants to take the word back, dropping his gaze to his shoes as he toes at the ground. “I mean, I would enjoy having the evening off and spending it with you, if such a thing isn’t objectionable to you.”

Roman pauses, a bit taken aback at the vehemence of Logan’s answer. It’s just because he wants a night away from his books, Roman reminds himself. He’s living in his very own little fantasy world if he thinks it has anything to do with Logan wanting to spend time specifically with him; he’s sure Logan would be just as happy to share a free evening with Virgil or Remus or anyone else in their friend group.

And surely that hint of a flush rising on the tops of Logan’s cheekbones is from the wind or something. No other reason. Roman needs to snap back to reality and stop looking for desperate signs that Logan might return his feelings.

“Well, there is one benefit to everyone else bailing,” he admits. Logan raises a curious eyebrow and Roman grins. “We get to do whatever we want. No one else arguing about where to go or how long to stay or when the night is over. So tell me, Lo, what kind of metaphorical trouble do you want to get into tonight?”

Logan considers for a moment.

“I don’t know about getting into trouble, metaphorical or otherwise, but the science and natural history museum is offering discounted admission to students.”

Roman can’t help but wrinkle his nose at the thought of spending his precious free time being quiet and sedate, wandering through endless galleries of things that all started to look the same after about five minutes. Some days he could enjoy museums. Definitely not tonight.

“Veto.”

“Veto? You didn’t say anything about veto rules.”

“Just decided,” he declares. “I can veto your suggestions and you can veto mine until we find something we both want to do.”

Logan most definitely does not look enthusiastic about this development and Roman fondly resists the urge to roll his eyes.

“Come on, Lo. This is your first night out and away from your textbooks in, like, forever! Live a little! The whole city is at your fingertips!”

On impulse, he grabs Logan’s hand and pulls it up over his head, leading him into a spin like they’re dancing.

“Roman!” Logan exclaims as he stumbles in the unexpected movement, but he doesn’t pull his fingers free, blush deepening across his cheeks. “What on earth are you doing?”

Roman grins, entirely too pleased at his own antics.

“Trying to shake loose some good ideas. Come on, kick that big brain of yours into action. Every subpar idea earns you a spin until you come up with something fun for us to do.”

Logan stares at him like he’s declared he’s trying to grow a second head.

“I fail to see how that will further the production of ‘good ideas,’ as you put it, but, um, the library? They have a new-”

“Nope,” Roman sing-songs, giving him a twirl. “You spend like eighty percent of your life in libraries. Try again.”

“There’s a public lecture by–”

“You can do better than that.”

“I – just – what about – hey!” he protests as Roman turns him in yet another spin, but he’s smiling slightly and he still hasn’t pulled his fingers free, so Roman figures he can’t be too upset with his shenanigans. “I hadn’t even said anything!”

“Too slow. You gotta speed up those ideas.”

He gives Logan’s hand a little tug for emphasis and he shakes his head emphatically.

“Food!”

Roman pauses, definitely because of Logan’s exclamation and not because he’s just realized how Logan looks right now, face flushed and hair falling slightly into his eyes from all the impromptu dancing. Nope. Definitely not because of any of that.

“Food,” Logan repeats, seizing on Roman’s silence, cautiously pulling their joined hands down like he’s waiting for Roman to reject this idea as well. “I haven’t eaten dinner yet. Let’s go get some food somewhere.”

“Do you want to spin me to make things even?” Roman blurts, suddenly afraid that he may have annoyed Logan with his hijinks, but his friend just shakes his head. “Are you sure?” he presses. “I’m an excellent dancer, you know.”

Logan casts him a sidelong look that says he very much doubts that, but it’s teasing rather than critical.

“No,” he decides after a moment of consideration. “I’ll make things even some other way.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

Logan just grins, and Roman’s breath catches because fuck, who gave him permission to look like that, all sharp smile and sparkling eyes, he’s so pretty it should be illegal, he wants to pull him close right then and there and kiss that smile right off his face–

“Who says it can’t be both?” Logan asks, thankfully interrupting Roman’s internal crisis before he can say or do something stupid like actually kiss him. He gives Roman’s hand a tug. “Come on, let’s go eat.”

They find a little hole-in-the-wall restaurant after a bit of searching and keep up a steady conversation as they eat, lingering until the waitstaff begins shooting Roman dirty looks for singing along to the radio. Logan waves off his offer to split the bill and pays the tab in full, and Roman’s heart leaps treacherously because that’s exactly the kind of thing that happens on a date.

But that’s ridiculous. This clearly isn’t a date. Logan hasn’t ever shown any indication that he likes him as more than a friend. Surely they’ve paid for each other plenty of times before and Roman just can’t remember. He needs to get his head out of the clouds and stop reading into things before he ruins what is shaping up to be a perfectly pleasant evening.

Logan, who is clearly having no such dilemmas, is in a noticeably better mood now that he’s had some food and seems much more open to doing something more exciting than visiting museums and libraries. Logan and Roman’s Fantastically Grand Adventure Around The City, Roman coins it as they set off to find something to entertain themselves with, and Logan just sighs and tells him that when he’s done coming up with ridiculous names, it’s his turn to suggest an idea for what to do next.

It does turn out to be a grand adventure, if Roman does say so himself.

He takes Logan on a tour through one of the local neighborhoods known for its street art, the two of them keeping up a running commentary on the murals decorating the walls and buildings before visiting the space open for graffiti artists to tag and trying to find anything done by Remus.

(They pick their favorite pieces and engage in a light-hearted debate about which is the best until their arguments get so preposterous that neither of them can keep a straight face and they declare a draw.)

For his next turn, Logan chooses to wander until they find a food truck he deems suitable and they order dessert to satisfy his craving for something sweet.

(Roman sticks churros in his lip like tusks and pretends he’s a walrus and it’s ridiculous even to him, but it makes Logan laugh, so it’s worth every second of looking like an idiot.)

Roman drags Logan on a wild hunt around the city searching for a fountain that he knows exists somewhere but can’t find, and they make a game of seeing if they can locate it without using their phones.

(They do. They toss coins in and make wishes and for once Roman doesn’t even have anything to wish for, because what could be better than this?)

Logan detours them to take a walk down by the river and peoplewatch, Logan making characteristically blunt observations about others and Roman making up increasingly fantastical stories about any stranger who catches his eye.

(At some point, Logan grabs his hand, maybe to lead him across a crosswalk or pull him out of someone’s way, and the press of their palms against each other and the way their fingers loosely intertwine feels so natural that Roman doesn’t even realize they’re still holding hands until some time later.)

By the time they end up back at their meet-up spot, Roman feels giddy, almost drunk on the feeling of the night, on Logan’s smile and his laugh and the way his eyes light up when he has a particularly clever quip to something Roman has said as they banter back and forth, and he doesn’t want the evening to end.

“Let’s go one more place,” he blurts as they stop beside his car. He can sense Logan getting ready to ask where, or maybe to glance at his watch and say it’s late and that he should be going, so he doesn’t let him get the chance to do either.

“A surprise. And I know, I know you hate surprises, but you’ll like this one, I promise. No crowds or bright lights or noise or anything. Please? For your favorite Prince?”

He expects a protest, or even an outright refusal, but Logan just shrugs and nods, stepping up to the passenger side door.

“Alright.”

Roman fumbles to unlock the car, a little incredulous at his easy acquiescence and sure that at any moment Logan is going to change his mind and decide he needs to go back to his apartment and recharge away from people and the commotion of the city, but he just slips into the car and primly buckles his seatbelt, ready to go.

Well, if Logan doesn’t want the night to come to an end either, Roman isn’t about to question it.

He slides into the driver’s seat and starts the car, flipping the radio onto a low volume as he navigates out of the city, but he needn’t have worried; even after talking all night, the conversation flows easily between them, everything from the antics in Roman’s theater class to current events to the melanistic squirrel Logan had seen on campus the other day, and the drive passes quickly. About halfway through, Roman turns off the highway and onto progressively more rural side roads, and they’re only a few minutes from their destination when Logan seems to realize how far they’ve gone.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been out this way,” he comments, peering out the window, and Roman winces as he glances at the time on the dash. Good thing it isn’t a weeknight.

“I know, sorry, I should have asked if it was okay with you to go this far. I know you like to go to bed early.”

He sees Logan shrug out of the corner of his eye.

“I don’t mind. Being up late one night shouldn’t do too much harm to my circadian rhythm. And I was promised a surprise I would like by my favorite Prince, after all.”

My favorite Prince. Nerves are suddenly battering Roman’s insides and part of him wants to just pull a u-turn and head back to the city right now, because what if this is a stupid idea? What if Logan doesn’t like it? What if he’s just wasting both of their time and they’ll have to suffer through a painfully awkward drive back?

Those thoughts would just have to go fuck right off, he decides, steeling his resolve. He knows Logan. He knows he’ll like this, and even if he doesn’t, it’s not like they haven’t worked through approximately four thousand disagreements before. Everything will be fine.

A few minutes and one painfully potholey road later and they arrive at their destination.

“We’re here!” Roman announces, too loud in an attempt to squash any nerves that might creep into his voice. Logan stares out the window at the empty pasture at the end of the dead-end road where they’ve parked, the surroundings dark except for the moonlight.

“And where, exactly, is here?”

Roman doesn’t answer, just scrambles out of the car and around to Logan’s side, pulling him out of the car and out across the fallow field, lighting the way with his phone flashlight so they don’t trip too badly. Logan stops after a few dozen feet, tugging his hand out of Roman’s grip and refusing to go any farther, his expression souring for the first time all evening.

“Come on, Roman. Tell me why we’re here. If you wanted to play some kind of prank on me–”

“No!” Roman protests immediately, surging towards him in an attempt to reassure him, only to catch himself and pull back from touching Logan without a sign that it’s okay to do so at the moment. “This isn’t a prank; I wouldn’t do that to you. And I know it still isn’t perfect, not like it would be if we drove further, but at least there’s less light from the city here–”

Logan is shaking his head, clearly confused, and Roman cuts off his own rambling.

“Look up.”

Logan does, and a soft gasp falls from his lips as he gazes up at the myriad of stars glimmering above them. Roman briefly sends a thank you to any higher power listening that it’s a clear night, because he hadn’t even bothered to check if it was overcast before starting their drive and he has a sneaking suspicion that Logan would not be impressed if Roman had kidnapped him and driven him nearly an hour away just to look at some clouds while standing in a field in the middle of nowhere.

Just a guess.

“Look,” Logan says, pointing. “There’s Polaris, colloquially known as the North Star, although other stars have been known as the North Star throughout history due to the wobble in the earth’s axis of rotation. It’s part of Ursa Minor, or the Little Dipper, and of course there’s Ursa Major, or the Big Dipper, and over there is Orion…”

He’s still going, drawing various shapes in the air with his finger, but for all the world Roman can’t tear his eyes away from Logan, features cast in gentle moonlight, so excited as he spills an endless stream of knowledge, bouncing on the balls of his feet with unrestrained happiness.

He’s more captivating than any star could ever be.

Eventually he comes to a natural pause in his catalogue of constellations and Roman seizes the opportunity to coax him back to the car long enough for them to find a fleece blanket in the emergency breakdown kit Patton had gifted him last Christmas. Roman shakes it out and lays it on the ground so they don’t have to sit in the damp grass, and after assuring Logan that yes, he knew the person who owned this land and no, they wouldn’t get in trouble for being here, they settle onto the blanket.

The allure of stargazing must win out over any lingering trepidation about potentially trespassing, because Logan is already back to talking a mile a minute as he lays down, something about the lifecycle of stars, and for a moment Roman can just stare at him, utterly transfixed by the gleam of happiness in his eyes, until Logan complains he’s blocking the view and tugs his arm, telling him to lay down in a way that Roman would normally tease is bossy but right now is just hopelessly endearing.

He situates himself down on the blanket, careful to leave space between them as Logan continues to speak rapidly. Now that he’s looking up at the stars and not at Logan, he’s able to actually focus on what he’s saying, and he tries to understand it, he does, because this is clearly important to Logan and he wants him to feel listened to, but the science of all of it is going right over his head, so he settles for making the appropriate ahhs and mmm-hmms at regular intervals.

Logan pauses after some time, sitting up to dig something pokey out from underneath him.

“Roman,” he scolds lightly, and Roman starts, wracking his brain for what he could have possibly done, what breach of stargazing etiquette he has unwittingly committed. “You’re barely even on the blanket. You’re going to get wet from the dew on the grass. You should scoot over. I’m not Remus; I don’t bite.”

Roman obligingly shifts a little more onto the blanket, although it’s a bit of a moot point since dampness has already crept through the back of his jacket. There’s a moment of silence as Logan takes advantage of his upright position to stretch out his shoulders and neck, and there’s no pressure to fill the quiet, but Roman figures since Logan has shared so much of his knowledge the least Roman can do is return the favor a little.

Nervously clearing his throat, he points at one of the constellations he actually knows and begins recounting the Greek mythology associated with it. He’s sure Logan probably already knows most of it, if not all of it, but Logan just nods along enthusiastically, occasionally interjecting with an additional tidbit of information, so apparently he isn't too put out by Roman derailing his more scientific lecturing.

And then Logan lays down again and Roman stutters mid-tale, mind going absolutely blank for a moment, because Logan is pressed against him from shoulder to hip, the warmth of his body almost shocking compared to the cool night air even through several layers of clothing.

It doesn’t mean anything, Roman reminds himself as he fumbles to pick up his story again. Friends were physically close like this all the time – hell, he was physically close with his other friends like this on movie nights and whatnot all the time – and it didn’t imply any sort of more-than-platonic feelings. And even if Logan was typically more reserved, he had gotten more comfortable with physical displays of affection from everyone in their friend group in the last year or two. That’s all this was. It was a small blanket and Logan didn’t want to give up his spot so obviously when Roman moved over they were going to touch. Nothing more to it.

(Even if it really, really feels like there’s something more to it.)

He somehow manages to get through the rest of the mythology he’s narrating, even though his heart is racing so fast he’s surprised Logan can’t feel it where their arms are pressed together, the closeness of him an exquisite kind of torture, but Roman can’t even imagine shifting away.

“You talk more,” he croaks artfully when he finishes, because if he has to channel any more brain power into trying to tell a coherent story he might just implode. “I like hearing you talk about space.”

Logan is silent for a moment, clearly hesitant.

“Are you sure? I know that I often get carried away talking about such interests and that it can sometimes be boring or annoying.”

“I’m positive,” Roman assures him. “You never bore me, Lo. You could talk about whatever you want until the sun comes up and I wouldn’t care.”

“Alright,” Logan says after a long pause. “Just tell me if you change your mind.”

He starts in again, still a little timid at first, but it’s barely a minute before his enthusiasm is back in full force and he’s gesturing excitedly as he talks about some kind of new theoretical subatomic particle and its role in the universe.

It’s a long time that they just lay there, Logan talking and Roman occasionally interrupting with a comment or question while the stars slowly shift above them, but Roman doesn’t mind. He meant what he’d said; he could stay here listening to Logan discuss astronomy until dawn without a single complaint, even if it means slowly going insane trying not to overanalyze every time Logan moves and his arm presses against Roman’s a little more.

Some things were worth going crazy for, after all.

“Look!” Logan interrupts himself suddenly, pointing. “A meteor!”

It is, a brilliant white shooting star streaking across the sky, there and gone in an instant, and for the second time tonight Roman finds himself in a position to make a wish and yet he still can’t think of anything he could want that would make the night better.

“Most meteors are actually quite small, about the size of a pebble or even a grain of sand,” Logan informs him. “They are quite tiny and seemingly insignificant, and yet they leave such a remarkable impression. Isn’t that beautiful?”

“Yeah,” Roman says quietly, his eyes shifting away from the stars, and he can’t help the way he sounds almost reverent as he gazes at Logan’s profile in the moonlight. “It’s stunning.”

Logan turns his head to meet his gaze and there’s nothing but a breath between them as they stare at each other for a long moment, and then something shifts ever so slightly in Logan’s expression, eyes darkening, and his gaze shifts down to Roman’s mouth, his own lips parting slightly, and yes, this is everything Roman wants and he’s not ready and this is perfect and it’s too much and he wants it so badly and he can’t–

He turns back to look at the sky, heart racing so fast he almost feels sick.

He’s such a damn coward.

“Tell me more about the space in between the stars,” he says hoarsely, trying for some semblance of normal and failing miserably. All that acting training wasted, apparently. There’s a long pause before Logan starts in about the vastness of space, more subdued than he’s been all night, and guilt wrenches through Roman’s chest because no, Logan feeling bad or being anything less than radiantly excited about space is absolutely not permitted.

He shifts his hand, letting it brush against the back of Logan’s, and when that doesn’t elicit any negative response, he skims his thumb along the top of Logan’s, a silent apology. For a moment, there’s nothing, and Roman is about to draw away when Logan’s fingertips brush back against his, dancing against Roman’s for a moment before he turns his hand and fully laces their fingers together, giving a little squeeze.

All while never missing a beat in his explanation of dark matter. Roman feels like he’s about to have a heart attack and here Logan is delivering a full dissertation on the mysteries of the universe. It’s wildly unfair.

Eventually, after what could have been five minutes or five hours for all Roman can tell, Logan falls quiet and a comfortable silence settles between them, nothing but the hum of the night insects and the occasional hooting of an owl off in the distance.

“It’s getting late,” Logan finally says after another indeterminable amount of time. “We should head back.”

Roman murmurs an agreement and they pick themselves up off the ground, Roman trying to ignore the way the absence of Logan’s hand in his feels like a loss as he attempts to stretch some feeling back into his stiff body. Turns out laying on the ground for hours on end with only a thin blanket for cushioning was not as comfortable as it looked.

“So, this was a good surprise?” he asks, pretty sure he knows the answer but feeling the sudden urge to double-check that Logan hasn’t just gone along with it for Roman’s sake.

“Yes,” Logan replies distractedly, still craning his head back to gaze up at the sky as if he hasn’t just spent the whole night looking at it, and Roman’s heart squeezes with affection. Then he seems to actually register Roman’s question and drags his eyes away from the heavens.

“Yes. Yes! This was a good surprise,” he laughs, and before Roman can process what’s happening, he’s grabbing Roman’s hand and pulling him into a spin like Roman had done with him at the very beginning of the night.

A laugh of pure delight spills out of Roman’s mouth and he seizes Logan’s other hand, sweeping him into an impromptu dance, leading him through unchoreographed steps in the damp grass and vocalizing music in between laughs, and Logan is laughing right back, the sound bright and clear in the still night air. Roman has so rarely ever seen him like this, entirely open and carefree and happy, so blindingly happy as he spins away from Roman and then right back again, and that familiar warmth that Roman always associates with Logan has been blooming in his chest all night but now it’s spreading to his head, his stomach, his fingertips until it’s all he can feel.

They slow after a few minutes, movements getting smaller and smaller until Logan is only a breath away, one hand still held in Roman’s grip and the other resting lightly on his back as they sway gently back and forth. And then he blows out a contented sigh and closes the few inches between them, practically melting into Roman’s chest as he tucks his head onto his shoulder.

And maybe Roman shouldn’t, maybe he’s misreading the signals because he wants them to be something they’re not, maybe he should bite back his words and go on pining for Logan from afar, but there’s something about the evening that makes him feel bold and invincible, as if no bad can come to either of them while Logan is wrapped in his arms, warm and trusting and bathed in starlight.

“Logan,” he says, voice barely above a whisper in the still of the night. “You can say no, of course you can always say no, but – can I kiss you?”

Logan pulls back abruptly to stare at him, although he stops short of breaking free of Roman’s loose grip, and the surprise written across his face makes Roman’s stomach turn with butterflies and he almost backtracks right then and there, almost laughs it off as some kind of joke, but he steels himself, waiting with his breath caught in his throat for Logan’s reply because if he doesn’t hear the answer then he’ll spend the rest of his life wondering what it might have been.

Then Logan’s lips twitch up into a tiny smirk and jesus fucking christ, Roman can’t even breathe–

“I don’t know, Roman, can you?”

All of Roman’s breath huffs out in an incredulous laugh at the breathtaking, maddening, perfect man in front of him.

“You–”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence as Logan tips forward and presses his mouth to his.

Logan’s lips are cold and chapped and his glasses dig slightly into Roman’s face and the angle isn’t the greatest and it is by far, without a doubt, the singular best thing that has ever happened to Roman.

It’s nothing more than a press of their lips, really, and Roman has kissed others far less chastely than this, but none of them has ever made him feel this way, like all his thoughts have gone silent and all the breath has been stolen right out of his lungs and all the world has disappeared except for him and Logan and the stars above them.

They break apart after a moment and Roman can’t help but laugh as something occurs to him, tightening his grip slightly on Logan as he pulls back, hurt clear on his face.

“No, not you, Lo, that was amazing and wonderful and I would very much like to do it again,” he rushes to reassure him, and his face relaxes. “But I just realized that we have a whole observatory on campus and you’re an astrophysics major and you’ve seen the stars with a very expensive telescope, like, a billion times before, and I thought it was a great idea to take you to a field in the middle of nowhere to go stargazing.”

“Well,” Logan says quietly, smiling softly as he rests their foreheads together and gently squeezes Roman’s hand. “I would much rather watch the stars with you.”

And really, when he says things like that, what can Roman do but kiss him again?

Logan dozes off on the car ride back to campus, head leaned against the window and fingers loose where they’re laced with Roman’s on the center console, and given how late – or early? – it is, Roman doesn’t blame him.

Roman, on the other hand, has never felt more awake.

He’d kissed Logan. He’d kissed Logan. Or, actually, Logan had kissed him first, but still. He’d kissed Logan.

He can’t stop grinning the whole drive, and he’s glad that there’s hardly any other cars out because his mind is more than a bit preoccupied with reliving the memory of Logan’s lips on his and not focused on trivial little things like speed limits and stop signs.

But they make it back to Logan’s apartment building without any accidents, so Roman can’t feel too bad about not being the best driver in the world. He gently shakes Logan awake, which merits him an adorable look of sleepy confusion before Logan remembers where he is, and Roman walks him up to the door of the complex.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he says, which is the understatement of the century, but he doesn’t know quite what else to say, considering he never thought this was how the evening would end or that he’d even ever get this far with Logan. He’s half-convinced he’ll wake up at any moment and discover this has all been a dream.

Logan nods through a yawn, expression open and unguarded as he blinks sleepily.

“I also had a very enjoyable time.”

“Well, I’ll let you get some sleep,” Roman says a bit awkwardly. “I’ll text you tomorrow?” he asks, and Logan nods again. “Okay. Sweet dreams, Logan.”

He steps back to leave, but Logan’s hand catches his and he stills, casting him a questioning look. Logan plays with his fingers, not quite meeting his gaze.

“I believe a goodnight kiss is a traditional way to end such an evening?”

His voice trails up into an uncharacteristically unsure question and Roman can’t help the smile that spreads across his face even though Remus would call it disgustingly besotted and sappy.

“Alright, since you ask so nicely.”

Logan starts to backpedal, eyes widening, and Roman shushes him quietly.

“I’m just teasing, Lo,” he whispers. He raises one hand slowly, giving Logan plenty of time to pull away if he wants to, and gently cups his cheek, brushing his thumb featherlight across Logan’s cheekbone. Logan presses into the touch as his eyes flutter closed, chin tipping up expectantly, and Roman kisses him, soft and sweet and slow as if they have all the time in the world.

Tomorrow, he knows, they’ll have to talk about this new chapter of their relationship, work out what it means and how they’re going to define it and who, if anyone, they’re going to tell and a thousand other details.

But for now, as he kisses Logan, the stars above still continuing their slow wheel in the sky even underneath the light from the city, he doesn’t have words. All he has is the warm, sure feeling that this night is nothing if not a promise of good things to come.

#finally this fic sees the light of day #finally #loginceweek2022 #logince week #sanders sides #shades of blue and red #ts logan #logan sanders #ts roman #roman sanders #logince #my fic #rosepetal writes

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poly-mechanisms · 3 years ago

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Ahem. have everything I wrote in my notes app while watching the 2011 movie I Am Number Four based off of the hit book by Pittacus Lore

putting it under a cut because it’s a lot

They’re sophomores, not seniors.

Sam was on the hayride WITH THEM and he was kidnapped too

The lockers were filled with horse manure, not that weird pink shit

Sam’s last name is Goode, not Spellman (why the fuck did they change that??)

Sam’s dad didn’t work at a steel farm, nor did he have a secret hideout that Henri was aware of

Six has black hair, not blonde (at least until the second book)

Six also didn’t commit arson (although at least we got a cool scene from it)

That’s not how Sam confronted him about his Legacies

Also John didn’t have Sam’s number, only Sarah and Henri’s

John never would’ve done that to Sam, also Sam pulled a gun on him in the book keep that next time Sam’s a fucking badass

Sam thought John was joking when he said he was an alien at first

BORDER OF MEXICO??? He disappeared at a fuckin grocery store

Sam doesn’t have a stepdad

BK came with a nametag John didn’t name him

Mark’s dad isn’t a cop

He figured out his telekinesis by accidentally exploding Sarah’s camera

IT WAS AN ARTICLE ON THE MOGS NOT A VIDEO OF JOHN FUCKING HELL

Henri hasn’t even attempted to train John even though he has his first Legacy

Henri and John don’t fight Henri just kinda gives in ig

They find They Walk Among Us through SAM not on some random website

Also Sam’s a much bigger alien believer in the books

Six doesn’t have a motorcycle, nor does she have neck tattoos

This whole thing happened on Thanksgiving

THEY NEVER OPENED THE FUCKING CHEST

Sam can’t actually drive that was kinda the whole point of that scene

Also movie Paradise definitely has a bigger population than 5,425

Setrakus Ra also didn’t show up until like early third book/late second book he def wasn’t there in the beginning

They’re in like a small city in the books not the middle of the woods

Mogs don’t look like that, and they got rid of Setrakus’s purple neck scar thing

This isn’t necessarily a bad thing BUT YEAHHH HENRI FIGHTING GO BADASS

John can’t control tech it even clarifies in the second/third book that their telekinesis doesn’t work on electronics

AYO HENRI DOESNT DIE YET ALSO DID THEY GET RID OF THE ENTIRE HOUSE FIRE??

Also he told them about Sam’s dad helping them in a letter

Ayo only Mogs disintegrate Six burned Henri’s body so that John could have his ashes

Oh yeah They Walk Among Us was also a magazine not a website

AYO I DIDNT NEED TO SEE THAT FUCKING HELL THATS DISGUSTING

The cops didn’t figure him out?? Hello??

Oh ok they didn’t get rid of the house fire thank fuck

Sarah didn’t figure it out until John saved her from the fire my fucking god

HE WASNT CALLED A TERRORIST UNTIL THE FIGHT AT THE SCHOOL IM GOING TO KILL SOMEONE

Damn someone really should’ve taught Andrew’s Spidey that trick

THEY REALLY HAD THE AUDACITY TO GET RID OF THE HOUSE FIRE FUCKIN HELL BRO

ALSO THE MOGS NEVER ATTACKED MARK OR HIS DAD

I can’t get over the fact that the actor for Mark is the same person that played Luke in the Percy Jackson movies he really has a knack for being in the worst book to movie adaptations

Ok at least we get the school fight I would’ve murdered someone if they got rid of that

Yet again, the Mogs didn’t bring Mark to the fight I don’t remember how he got there but he just kinda showed up

YEAHHHH SIX BEING A BADASS LETS GOOO

that’s not how her invisibility Legacy works also she can’t walk on walls that’s Nine’s Legacy

Six sounds kinda British what is that accent

“Stay tuned” Six is my favorite character although BK is a very close second because Chimæra :)

Pffffft Sam is so awkward around Six it’s adorable

Why the Piken look like that it ugly as shit

YEAH BK COMING IN CLUTCH GOOD BOY

Bro what was that supposed to be if that was supposed to be John’s healing Legacy he doesn’t get that till the end of the third book

I can’t get over the CGI it looks really bad although it is from 2011 so I can’t judge ig

Awwwww puppyy

Please tell me Six still has her element control Legacy that was like her coolest one

JOHN LOOK BEHIND YOU YOU FUCKING IDIOT

Still don’t get why the Mogs look like that also still mad they got rid of Setrakus Ra’s only defining feature

Oh shit was that not Setrakus Ra have I been wrong the entire time or did they just not read all the books?

AWH COME ON DID THEY REALLY GET RID OF HER ELEMENT CONTROLLING LEGACY

What was that???

Ew Mark why’re you here you didn’t even get a redemption arc leaveeee

Bruh no that’s not how Sam coming with them happened it was Six’s idea not John’s

Why are they at a graveyard? Not like they have Henri’s body to bury since he FUCKING DISINTEGRATED

Ewwwwwwwww stop making outtt

Awwwww Bernie Kosar hi buddy

#i am number four #lorien legacies #valk’s brain goes brrr

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aria-greenhoodie · 3 years ago

Text

My opinions on every Dream smp character (/rp /c! /lh)

THIS IS NOT ABOUT THE CREATORS THIS IS ABOUT THE CHARACTERS AND THIS IS ALL SAID LIGHTHEARTEDLY!!!

Dream - die.

George - Does he even exist??? I think he just stays asleep in a shroom forest until Dream XD drags him out for “fun time.”

Sapnap - Pet Killer. >:( But is engaged to Karl and Quackity who are both cool so I guess it’s fine.

Callahan - All knowing and terrifying, but fantastic and great.

Sam - What the fuck??? Is??? Going on with this man??? He’s fucked up. I don’t think hes a bad person but he needs someone to tell him to fucking stop, because he has done bad shit, even if I dont think he’s bad, like, what in the fuck. I kinda wanna bite him.

Warden - IM SORRY IM SORRY DONT KILL ME FUCK SHIT PISS BALLS IM SOR

Sam Nook - The best Sam. I’d kill and die for him. irl. /gen. This is not a joke. I love this robot. SO MUCH. Love so muchh. <333

Alyssa - Exists? I think???

Ponk - I don’t know a lot about her but I want to know more and I know they are WONDERFUL AND DIDN’T DESERVE WHAT SAM DID TO HIM, SAM WHAT THE FUCK, THIS IS WHY YOU NEED TO BE PUT IN FUCKING LINE, PONK WAS SO NICE TO YOU EVEN AFTER ALL THAT, WHAT THE FUUUUCK

BBH - Bit fucked up. Not that pleasant.

Tommy - Big Man. Always correct. Don’t argue with me about this, I'll bite you. And he probably will too. He reminds me of me when I was in middle school and because of that I will side with him always.

Tubbo - Awe, what a little lad! Oh, he’s a bit fucked up. O-oh… he’s a LOT fucked up… Still a little lad though! Also pretty gender. Also according to literally every single “WHICH DSMP CHARACTER ARE YOU?” quiz I take I’m him, so that’s cool!

Fundy - I hold you very gently and tenderly but also very far away at arms length just in case.

Punz - Punz

Purpled - Funky fucking alien boy!!! Good builder, really cool, deserved better, I got really sad when Quackity blew up his UFO because it looked fucking sick and if it was mine I would have cried.

Wilbur - Seems very polite, but also maybe a little unhinged…

Ghostbur -pspsppssps sweet man so polite come back to me please pspspspspspspps come here pspspspspspspss yes I would love some blue now come closer pspsppspspspspss

Revivedbur - Sir please do not fuck this up I’m rooting for you because I know you can do great things please do not make me regret this please sir I believe in you please

Schlatt - Drunk bitch. Fuckin died. L.

Skeppy - Wait what even is your lore? You got corrupted by the Egg at some point but did you do anything after that?? Do you even still EXIST????

Eret - King, Queen, Royalty at its finest, you have tried so hard and I love you for it, also you’re violently gender and kinda pretty ngl so I may be biased but stfu you fucking kill it you funky fucking Herobrine ily <333

Jack Manifold - ON THAT JACK MANIFOLD GRIND! THE JACK MANIFOLD GRIND NEVER STOPS!

Nikki - Babe ily you deserved better, I may be rooting for Revivedbur but if you wanna punch that mf in his undead face I fully support you ily ily ily

Quackity - YOU! YOU!!! FUCKING YOU!!! I’M GOING TO VIOLENTLY ADORE YOU!!! YOU ARE SO FUNKY!!! YOU’RE ONE OF THE ONLY CAPITALISTS I WILL ACCEPT!!! FUCKMAN!!! LOVE YOUR WORK ON ALL THOSE WARCRIMES!!! <3333333

Karl Jacobs - Funky Time lad! Also really pretty. And kinda gender, but only a little bit. Those cool drawings of his old skin that the fandom came up with where he's a weird colorful rubber-hose-armed marshmallow human thing are more gender than what he is now, though.

Hbomb - Furry /pos. Seems nice enough.

Technoblade - BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! TECHNO NEVER DIES! LOVE ME AN ANARCHIST OLD MAN PIG WHO WILL DESTROY ANYTHING IN HIS PATH! Also Piglin /pos.

Antfrost - Furry /neg. He’s actually fine, but I don't actually have much to say about him.

Philza Minecraft - is quite old, he is married to a woman, which I find interesting. I love him but would also like to punch him, just once. Just one little punch. Nothing super hard, just a little punch. Love ya, Dadza <3

Connor - Sonic Kinnie. I know he has lore but I cannot understand it and only know 1/10 of it so I can't actually say much about him. He seems depressed all the time though, so I feel bad for him.

Captain Puffy - The best Father I have ever seen <3 Also the only semi-fucking-responsible adult??? Like Sam used to be too but then he… yeah… I love her!

Viky - Doesn't exist in cannon I think??

Lazar - Does he exist in cannon either????

Ranboo - YOU!!! You <333 YOUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!! I love you!! You make me a little sad sometimes but also INCREDIBLY happy!! My little hypocrite <3 my little walking contradiction <3 also REALLY gender, VIOLENTLY so. And Enderman /very pos.

Foolish - I like you! I don’t know much about you, but I’m learning more! I like your builds and attitude! Nice man :)

Hannah - I know literally NOTHING about you at all but I want to because you seem so badass and cool holy shit

Slimecicle - FUCKING WEIRD ASS SLUDGE MONSTER FROM THE BEGINING OF TIME???? YES PLEASE!!! SO GENDER!!! SO COOL!!! LOVE!!! LOVE LOV ELVOEKJDENJJW!!!!!!!!!! I love this fucking man <3333333 Filled with bones and meat and not slime at all <333333333

Michael McChill - Dream Stan /neg I don’t know much about this guy, actually, pretty neutral on him.

Michael _Beloved - Nice boy! Very polite! Probably could kill me if he wanted! Good lad!

Michelle - Oh she would whoop my ass. Great and fantastic!

Yogurt - babeyy,,,,,, boi,,,,, come hereee,,,,,, pspspsppspspsspspsp,,,,,,, i love youuu,,,,,,,

Foolish Jr. - Seems energetic and excitable! Good lad!

Finley - Fantastic, wonderful girl!

Shroud - I LOVE YOU. I WILL FIGHT ANY WAR YOU ASK ME TO. I WILL KILL MY FAMILY FOR YOU. SHROUD SUPREMACY. AAAAAAAAAAAA.

Mexican Dream - Eyyyyyy look at he! Look at the he!!! I like he :)))) he’s cool.

Dream XD - Oh so you’re THAT kind of asshole. Love it. 10/10. Also biblically accurate angel inspired designs for this mf??? So gender. Violently gender. Love that shit.

Drista - YOU!!!! ARE!!! SO!!!! COOL!!!! I WOULD KILL AND DIE FOR YOU!!!! LET'S BLOW SHIT UP TOGETHER!!!! CHAOS!!!!! ARSON!!!!! YES!!!!!

Mamacita - p, prett y wom an,,,

Mumza Kristin - If anyone doesn't like Mumza I’ll cut their body into fourths and burry the pieces under a Denny’s <3 She’s so poggers.

Friend - Friend! :DDD

#dsmp #dream smp #aria ramblings #im not tagging everyone that would take effort and I am tired #dream smp shitpost #dsmp shitpost #c!dsmp #dsmp opinions #is that a tag?#dsmp opinion is that a tag?#I dunno #Im tired #long post

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candied-peach · 4 years ago

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ao3: “rainbow ink” rating: T warnings: soulmate au, sympathetic deceit, sympathetic remus, DRLAMP, creativitwins genre: angst with a happy ending description: Roman just wants his twin to be happy. That’s all he wants. (for anon prompt: "Romantic DRLAMP soulmates? (Platonic creativetwins ofc) and usually when I see that ships it's Virgil or Deciet who doesn't write to his soulmates but how about Roman? He pretends not to have them because Remus already has them as his soulmates and he doesn't want to steal that from him? Angst with a happy ending?")

The first time Roman sees familiar purple ink flowing across his arm, he thinks it's a mistake. It has to be. He's seen that particular shade of purple on Remus's skin too often for it to be a coincidence. It's only further confirmed when, as he hastily yanks his sleeve down, Remus bursts into his room to tell him that he's going to the coffee shop to people watch and be weird. Just like his soulmate- Virgil- said.

Roman swallows hard, the lump in his throat only intensifying at the unabashed happiness shining in his twin's eyes. He doesn't say a word about the damning purple words drizzled across his skin- doesn't even think about writing back- just wishes Remus a safe trip and tries to pretend that the pain in his lungs is from a developing asthma attack.

The second time he sees dark and light blue ink scrawling across his wrist, he thinks someone must be playing a sick joke on him. It's not fair. Logan and Patton are also Remus's soulmates. Is Roman so cursed that he can't have anything to himself?

But the jealousy, teeming just beneath the surface, makes his throat tighten. He holes himself up in his room, pretending to be asleep when Remus bursts in.

"I'm going to wreak havoc at the library," Remus announces, like Roman hasn't already seen their plans scribbled in round letters and blocky script.

"Cool," Roman mumbles into his pillow, trying to sound foggy with sleep, not heartbroken. "Have fun."

"I will," Remus assures him. "And Janus might come, too! Virgil said he's gotta study, though." As if on cue, Roman can almost feel the spiky gold script etch itself into his forearm.

"Just try not to be arrested," Roman says, turning his face so Remus can't see the tears that have started to prick the corners of his eyes.

"No promises!" Remus says cheerfully. As soon as the front door of their shared apartment closes, Roman buries his face in his pillow and cries, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. This goes beyond even the cruelties of fate he could have ever dreamed up. He shares all of Remus's soulmates.

And he refuses to say a word. He's never seen his twin so happy as when he's with them. Logan, Patton, Virgil, and Janus, the latest. Janus is shy, perpetually wearing a hat around them, tugging the brim down as if it can hide the psoriasis that plagues one side of his face. The way his face lights up when he debates philosophy with a ruffled Logan. Patton's sunniness and platters of heart-shaped pancakes. Virgil's purple hair and anxiety and constantly playing emo music. Remus fits like the final piece of the puzzle, discussing the finer points of arson with Janus, listening to cephalopod facts and true crime podcasts with Logan, splattering paint on a canvas with Virgil and splattering cupcake batter with Patton.

Roman would be an outcast puzzle piece, the occasional broken one that comes from another puzzle entirely and can never find a place to fit in, not even along the edges.

Weeks pass. He starts to wear long sleeves and high necks, trying to hide the rainbow-hued proof from his sharp-eyed twin. He withdraws into himself, no matter how much he tries to stop it. What else is he to do? He's an actor, but he's not that good. He doesn't know if anyone could be that good, to know they can never, ever have what they've longed for their entire life, to watch it happening right in front of their eyes to someone who deserves it so, so much, but-

That's it, isn't it? Roman reflects, huddled on his bed and watching Avatar the Last Airbender through for the third time. 'But.' He feels the tingle of more writing on his wrist, but ignores it. It's not for him, after all. It will never be for him. There will be no gentle affirmations written in Patton's light blue script, no blocky exhortations to do his classwork or go to bed earlier from Logan. Virgil won't offer a mix tape and Janus won't cheer him up with snake-themed puns. They think they're friends and they are, but they have no idea they're more than that, and Roman refuses to tell them anything else.

His door bangs back on its hinges, bouncing off the wall, and Roman looks up in irritated alarm, ready to chastise his twin-

When he realizes that not only has Remus come in, he's brought reinforcements. Virgil, Janus, Logan, and Patton stand there next to Remus, and any annoyed words Roman might have said dry up in his throat.

"Something's wrong with you," Remus says, without preamble. "And I wanna know what."

"Nothing," Roman tries to deny, but he knows that no one will believe it. He looks a dilapidated mess, a far cry from his usual put-together self. He doesn't know when he slid down so fast.

"You and I both know that's a lie," Janus murmurs. He's not wearing a hat for once, and his hair is an unruly mass of curls Roman wishes he could run his fingers through. "You've been avoiding Remus-"

"You've been avoiding all of us," Virgil speaks up next. His shoulders are hunched, his fingers occupied with a purple fidget cube. "Did- did we do something wrong?"

"No!" Roman blurts out, before he even knows what he's saying. "No," he repeats. "You- you haven't done anything at all, it's- it's just me." He swallows, painfully aware all of a sudden that his sleeve has slipped down and dark blue writing is now visible.

Dark blue could be anyone, don't draw attention to it-

"Is it your soulmate?" Logan, because of course it's Logan, asks.

"Um," Roman hedges, inelegant. Remus bounds over to the bed, yanking Roman's sleeve up before he can stop him.

"I will be right up," Remus reads, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "But that's-" He looks at his own arm, at Logan's neat handwriting.

"Roman?" Patton asks hesitantly. "Is- is Logan your soulmate, too? Is that why you've been avoiding us?" An easy out, and yet one that will fall apart at the slightest touch. Roman trembles, feeling like a leaf in a vigorous breeze.

"I-" He croaks. "Um- not exactly."

"What do you mean, not exactly?" Janus asks. Roman flinches, although he knows it's a perfectly reasonable question. If only there was a perfectly reasonable answer.

"Not just Logan," he whispers, staring down into his lap. "It- I'm so sorry, Remus, it's everyone-" The tears that have prickled the corners of his eyes since Remus touched his sleeve spill over, tracing down familiar tracks.

"But why is that a bad thing?" Remus asks, still looking utterly perplexed. "Ro, what's wrong?"

"They're your soulmates," Roman repeats. "And you've been so happy- I don't belong with that-"

"Who says?" Logan questions. "Shouldn't that be up to us to determine?"

"I- I don't know," Roman stammers. "Maybe?"

"I don't have a problem with another soulmate," Patton says, giving Roman an encouraging smile. "I want to get to know you better, Roman. As more than just your friend. Is that okay?"

Roman's eyes dart to Remus's face, suddenly brimming with unconcealed panic. Remus plops down on the bed next to him, wrapping him up in a tight, slightly odd-smelling hug.

"You dumbass," Remus hisses in his ear. "You deserve to be happy, too, you know. I want you to be happy. You being unhappy has made me really unhappy."

"It has?" Roman asks in a tiny voice.

"Of course it has," Remus says, giving him a shove. "You're my twin, asshole, I care about you. I don't care if we share soulmates."

Roman takes a deep breath, then shoves up both sleeves, up to the elbow, revealing a rainbow cacophony littering his lower arms.

"We talk a lot," Virgil observes. Roman lets out a shaky laugh.

"You do," he says. "But I- I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."

tag list: @k9cat @paravigilant-virgil @croftergamer @airiervessel @reverendliu @matthindavick @ambersky0319 @yalltookmyurlideas @did-he-just-hiss-at-me @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @bexxbeauty @killjoy-3000 @the-sunshine-dims @sneaky-slytherin @reesiereads @rabbitsartcorner @quackerz-creations @psodtqueer @awkward-child-of-satan @snek-boii @im-fine-24

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theskyexists · 4 years ago

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akarsha never admitting to failure and noelle being so - well having such terrible parents obsessed with her success is brilliantly done

akarsha humorously accusing noelle of arson and then immediately covering for her is so perfect

‘she’s not just pretending to be stupid like you - she’s dumb for REAL’

AKARSHA thinks min is hilarious hahaha

AKARSHA IS SO FUCKING FUNNY

GOD im crying laughig

god Noelle has it so fucking rough- im so glad she has friends and a giant snake plushie

THE FUCKING FLUTE TITANCI MUSIC OH MG

it all coming together in the last episode is so good - noelle being smart and deceiving everybody - akarsha hitting it after all - noelle and min both protecting diya

noelle distilling a workable plan from min and akarsha’s madness - akarsha actaully pulling through

‘the kinds of jokes you decide to tell are indicative of your character’ true

It was so amazing to realise during min’s part that she might be stupid but she’s actually extremely morally smart. she understands things so perfectly - she so clearly sees

ANGRY REBEL AT 10 ‘I WONT EVER FALL IN LOVE LONE WOLF’- instantly falls in love

SAD NYA

THAT WAS THE SICKEST BURN EVER ‘why stop there - infants eat for free’NOELLE WOW

MIN AND NOELLE BONDING OVER THEIR TERRIBLE PARENTS

AKaRSHA AND MIN ENABLE EACH OTHER BRILLIANTLY. in a way - THEY are each other’s friend soulmates

Noelle calling Chryssa mom....awwww

Akarsha’s theme is so incredible.

Min gains respect for Noelle. Purely because she did such evil things.

Akarsha’s pranks on Noelle in the context of her insisting she’s innocent make me laugh so hard

this last chapter is definitely the absolute funniest

I love how even Min can call Akarsha out for staying deliberately stupid and hilarious stuff

Brianna Lei is such a genius

#i wonder if she's made anything new in recent times #and that epilogue!!!#i am glad that i had forgotten so much of this so that i could experience it again and not be able to breathe from laughter #butterfly soup #vidi #my stuff #personal

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probably-haven · 3 years ago

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okay but now I’m high-key over obsessing over the idea of like a- dnd au of Genshin Impact

which i highly doubt anyone knows or would really know what im talking about when i say that- and even if they did they probably wouldn’t be interested but like- in my head- it seems like such a cool concept! rsjdfhweaksdifj i dont know how to handle this

like please:

- whoever plays Childe would have to be a literal murderhobo - whoever plays Bennett is just there for the chaos and good times/shenanagins(cuz any wild magic sorcerer is either there for that or angst) - whoever plays as Signora totally made her the personification “Hot Rogue” trope knowingly and intentionally. - Whoever plays Albedo just worrying about whether taking Clockwork soul would interfere mechanically and then second questioning it for Draconic bloodline or warlock which could work so much better down the line- but- *continued overthinking* - whoever plays Kaeya is an experienced player who gave the DM 20 pages of backstory and actually helped a number of the others make their characters, but the moment they heard the DM mentioned off-handedly that there weren’t gonna be horses, he immediately went “also he’s the cavalry captain and I’m multiclassing him into cavalier lmao just for the shit of it” - whoever plays Xiao is.... that guy but whoever plays Zhongli convinced them to try dnd for the first time and had to very much suggest many changes because the first draft for Xiao’s character was literally the “I trust nobody and work alone. also i have no attachment to the world because everyone i know is dead. also no emotions” and poor lore-junkie Zhongli had to be like ‘please you’re being a toxic player trope’ and actually make his character not be totally flat- and did a great job. Eventually Xiao’s player gets into dnd and stops being a bitch but it takes time. - Ningguang’s player is a total fan of reverse tropes- comes to the table like “yeah, I’m playing a barbarian” and it’s the most composed intellectual queen you’ve ever seen. Actually gets lucky and rolls good enough stats to back it up too - Zhongli’s player carefully setting up their character with backstory contracts and restrictions that limit their power in the game before coming to the DM and asking, “if this, this, and this would it be alright if my character is technically a god, I’ve read the lore carefully and have a backstory dating back to the archon war which is open to adjustment if needed. Of course, i would understand if you said no as well” and the DM has had them as a player before and knows they wouldn’t abuse that so they agree to let him be a god. - and the whoever plays Venti and Baal are like: “Shit, they’re a god? can we be gods????” and the DM is just *regret mode* - whoever plays Klee is my hero- probably the chaotic-queerly-arson-obsessed-therapist-friend. RPs Klee so wonderfully and paves the way for a lot of great scenes and the vibes are just immaculate. - whoever made Beidou is a lesbian, and simps for female pirates. She knows exactly what she did, it was on purpose. - Barbara’s player is kinda new to Dnd and didn’t really get all the mechanics so they chose the main healer so it’d be easier until they got the hang of it- heard while out of character that Venti is a god and kept making Barbara fall for any excuse that he wasn’t cuz she was worried she’d be accused of metagaming. Now she just keeps doing it cuz it’s become a running joke of sorts. - also i think it’d be really fucking funny if the abyss sibling’s character was accidentally killed during session zero and they had to make up a new character in like a couple days. And having put so much work into the abyss sibling they were done. Cue “Fuck it, my new character is a Wolfy boi raised by wolves, and he lives in wolvendom, the place with wolves, on all levels except for physical he is a wolf. He like potatoes and his name is Razor, this is what you get.” - and of course whichever chaotic gremlin created Bennett saw that and was immediately like “oh my god i love that, our characters are friends now” - and then the DM goes and brings back the Abyss Sibling as the BBEG and the one who used to play them is just freaking out because- yeah - Venti’s player continually insists that liking apples is a character trait, but they’re doing it ironically- fuck knows they put a lot of work into designing him.

#genshin impact

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achilleasfury · 4 years ago

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Jason finding a child that looks like his gay boss in his workshop/room and decides to raise it, after his lover just fucking dissapeared(part one)

(this kinda evolved from an idea based on @neerasrealm ) A child. There was a fucking child in his workshop. How the hell did the child get in here. And why the fuck did it look like Zalgo, but in tiny and annoying. And it cried. Why the fuck did it cry. And why the fuck did Jason know how to deal with a crying baby. Actually he didnt, but after picking the child up and cradling it for a few minutes, it went silent. For a second he hoped it just kinda died, but as he looked at it, it smiled at him. Why the fuck did a child smile at him. And where the actual fuck was Zalgo. The damn god had a lot to explain. He better would come home soon. Jason sighed, shifting the child on his waist. He had no idea what he should do now. The best probably would be to just wait for Zalgo and drink tea. Maybe strangle the infant, if it was too annoying, but who could predict the future? Jason couldnt. After a little preparation, Jason could put the child aside and make himself tea in peace. He then proceeded to just grab a random book, place himself on the couch next to the baby and relax. He quiet enjoyed the peace. For 30 minutes. After that period of time, the damn child started to fucking cry. As he looked to the baby, trying to figure out, what was wrong this time, his eyes lit up a little green. This silented the baby and it stared with big big eyes up to Jason, probably confused. Or exited. Because it started to laugh. What kind of magic man was Jason with children?? The ginger just put the child back down again, thinking about what humans and their offsprings needed to survive. Food. They needed food, just like him. And babys needed to be feed like every two hours. Jason just stared blankly at his tea. If he would have to keep this fucking child, he wouldnt be able to sleep long. “Oh fucking hell. This is horrible.” What did babys even eat? They didnt have teeth yet, so.. Jason got flashbacks from the ‘how to fuck’-lesson from his father. He was m a l e. He couldnt breastfeed a baby. But who could? And if noone could, what should he do then- panic rushed trough Jason. He didnt wanted to have to bury an infant. This couldnt be his legacy. This wouldnt be his legacy. Much to his exitement, a bottle of warm milk just fucking popped up besides him, like something was watching him and decided to gift him mercy. He looked up, shot a quick smile to the roof. Just to be nice and not get set on fire. He didnt wanted to have too much stuff to relate to Natalie and Jane. Another sigh escaped him. He already felt tired. If Zalgo wouldnt come back soon, Jason surely would lit something on fire. Arson seemed to be the perfect answer to everything now. He may should consider getting a therapist. And then sent the bill to Zalgo. After feeding the baby, he just put it down. “You need a name. What in the world even are you? You know, I hope its just a nightmare and I wake up later and you’re not there anymore. That would be perfect.”, Jason waited a few seconds, just for the dramatic effect. Then he looked up the gender of the infant, while trying not to cringe. “You’re a boy... And you look like a really really young Zalgo..”, he needed to think about that. “Fuck it, you’re just gonna be named Zacharias, Zach for short. Why? Because I want non-german and non-israeli speakers to suffer, when you’re going to be older.” Jason then proceeded to smile down on Zacharias, then look at him in absolute disgust as the baby vomited over himself. “This is a fucking joke, right? Are you fucking kidding me?”, Jasons eyes lit up comepletly green. He rememered why he was disgusted by young kids, and terrifyed by teenagers. After cleaning up this mess, searching after baby clothes, not finding any, then proceeding to sew some fitting ones, changing Zacharias’ clothes, and drinking a glass of red wine, Jason was comepletly done with everything. The best part of this was that Zacharias had fallen alseep during the clothes changing. And then Jason fell asleep next to him. (I WANTED IT TO BE LONGER, BUT IM JUST GETTING OUT OF AN BLOCKADE IM SORRYYY- I’ll try to upload the next part tomorrow or at last at wednesday :))

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inferno-sytem · 4 years ago

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Queer people are very used to having their identity villianized, and I think thats affected our music and style and culture a lot. Many of us take pride in playing the role of the bad guy, doing a "villian arc," making arson or crime jokes, and I think its all very fun, and makes sense. Were trying to reclaim a part of ourselves that society has deemed wrong, and I've definitely done my fair share of that sort of thing.

But lately I've just been really sad. It's hard to laugh and joke about it, because its all just so real. Queer people are treated like monsters for something that they can't change, and thats the hard truth we're trying to cope with at the heart of all those jokes. Thats not fair for us. We deserve better.

I'm not saying dont make those jokes, I love them, and they're an important staple of how we choose to fight back and exist out of spite. Im just saying its been very hard for me lately, because I'm being beaten down by cishets for every little thing I do. I just want to be normal, and accepted. I dont want to stop dressing the way I do, or making the jokes I find funny, but I wish the reason wasn't because of abuse and oppression. I wish I could just exist, and I didn't have to fight for it. I dont want anyone to have to fight for the right to simply be.

Queer people are kind, and soft. They are loving, and worthy of love in return. They are valuable, and beautiful, and they dont deserve to be vilified just because they are queer. I hate it. I hate that cishets have told so many lovely and pure people that they are wrong over and over again to the point that they feel like they can't be soft anymore. They have to take this peice of identity that was forced on them and make it their own, because trying to reject it just doesn't work.

Let queer people be. Don't nit pick their labels, or question their presentation. We can use whatever and however many names, labels, pronouns, ect. we want. Im so tired of it. We're human, and they always seem to forget that.

I feel like if I want to be seen or loved or even considered I need to conform. I feel like I will always be looked at as less, but I still have to make a choice. I can either follow my gut, and be who I am, present how I want and use whatever pronouns I please, or, I can do my best to blend in. Imitate cishet people to try amd get a scrap of their respect. I dont want that choice. I want queer people to be whoever they want to be, and be as loud and blatant as they please, while still being equal.

And I dont think that will ever happen in my life time.

And I am so so tired of cishet people pretending that they're included in that pain, or denying that they're a part of it.

#vent #rant #negative #tw negativity #tw negitive

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jedimasteramell · 5 years ago

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haunted (greyscale heart)

Flystep // Marshal Harbinger AU // Very Not SFW

For @smuteczekbiczo and @technologicalnoiz because Im in way too deep with Jed/Danny. Uhh Idk, it was an excuse for angst and smut, 2.5K words.

---------

The embers hissed at the waters contact. White-grey smoke overtaking the cloying black as the flames sputtered for their last raging grasp at life, turned to thick, ashy sludge, the firefighters finally subduing the charred remains of what used to be an apartment building. So many lives upturned, so many possessions lost and lives of the unfortunates just the same, both now nothing but smoke rising into the Los Diablos sky. Yet as the rest of the team escorted a broken and defeated Pyre away from his wreckage, Marshal Harbinger’s mind was years away, back to the memories of a younger man and softer person, staring at the ashes of another ruined building.

Funny how fires were as renewing as they were destructive.

The incessant click of cameras and drone of voices indicated the arrival of reporters on the scene. The Public Privacy Law may have prevented photos of the victorious heroes and humiliated villain, but they still lapped up the images of destruction, eager to twist the loss of lives to garner whichever opinion they wanted. Jackals and ungratefuls the lot of them.

“Marshal Harbinger, Marshal!” The voice is from one or all of them, a swell at the LDPD lines trying to break through for the newest scoop. With difficulty he tore his gaze from the slurry of smoke and charred slag to the unruly group of journalists and TV correspondents. Camera flashes blocked the faces of the crowd, not that he cared to recognize them beyond being human. His face fixed itself into less of a scowl to something more appropriate for television. After all these years, they still loved their golden flyer, conveniently forgetting that angels had always been more Harbingers than Heralds.

He held up two fingers to silence the crowd, and almost like mind control, the clamoring stilled. “The situation has been contained, the culprit in custody.”

Despite his move to turn away, that opened up the floodgates for questions.

“Is it true Pyre is behind the recent arsons?”

“How do you rate the work of your new team?”

“Are the Ranger’s working on preventing this from happening again?”

Harbinger started. “That’ll be all-”

“A lot of lives were lost today, would you have handled it any better back when you were Herald?”

The question gives him pause, a jerk to his navel from the ring of his old name. Harbinger scanned the crowd, hard gaze landing on a man with warm brown hair, green eyes, and a cocky smile that was awful and familiar all at once at once; recognition like a punch to the gut. Jed. He mouthed the name he hadn’t dared say aloud on years. It couldn't possibly be an yet-

He blinked and the ghost disappeared, leaving an eager but confused reporter in its place, recorder outstretched waiting for the answer. The man looked nothing like the longed-for haunt of his imagination. This was why he never looked at a crowd to long, he’d always see him there even after all this time. He could almost see Jed shake his head and narrow his eyes that way he did when his better moods caught Herald off guard, turning and tossing up his hand in goodbye. Funny thing about fires… The smoke must be getting to him.

“Marshal…? Sir?” They still hung on the silence, waiting for an answer. “Would you have acted any different?”

Stern and stony as the blacked concrete behind him, Harbinger fixed the assembled with a long, impenetrable gaze. “No.”

****

The stench of smoke followed him home, clinging to his uniform, his hair, his heart, greasy and dark; a slow and progressing cancer through his veins and the worn pieces of memories, rank and debilitating.

Even after he stripped himself of his suit, leaving the midnight navy mesh a shedded second skin on the floor, the scent clung to him, trailing him to the shower, cold tile underfoot. When was the last time he floated? The thought crossed his mind, impassive and without true concern. Flying was in his blood, the fight to be free an inescapable part of his nature now, yet for the longest time he’d been grounded. Years now, since the first fire that still smoked from the cracks in the man he’d been.

Daniel surveyed the person who wore his face the mirror. Harbinger had a harshness to him, lines angled like the charcoal faces in his old sketchbooks. Anger, disappointment, loss... heartbreak, scored and scarred him older than he was. He used to be scared of who he was becoming, but perhaps Harbinger had simply been in him the whole time.

A darker side, another facet, what you turn into to survive…

He has to tear his eyes away before the reflection shows the hard blue slipping into furious green. His heart twinged with an old pain, an understanding too little too late.

Everything they had long since up in smoke.

His hands left ashey prints on the pristine sink, he still smelled the fire on him, still ached from the scars, earned and given. Fingertips trailed to the brand of teeth on his thigh, sending a shiver down his spine. Daniel dug his nails against the scars, the pain a relieving rush to the against the deadened experience of his new normal. He felt himself twitch, and he swore under his breath, voice raw and unfamiliar from inhaling the smoke. He didn’t dare face the scowling shame in the mirror. Fuck, he needed a shower.

Scalding water and scented soap stripped away the grime and the stench of the smoke that clung to his skin and his hair. He pressed his hands to gleaming walls, spray running rivulets down his neck and chest. It wasn't much for his mind to wander. A toothy grin, the way he'd laughed at the crown of suds, fiery eyes pulled back from those distant futures they stared to. A kiss, then another, teeth at his throat, a knee shifted between his thighs, the gasp at the cold tile at his back-

Daniel's eyes shot open, the kiss of cold real having backed himself up against the shower wall. The flush on his skin had little to do with the hot spray and entirely with his growing hard on.

Allowing himself the gift of a few heavy-handed palms, he focused on the uncomfortable coolness of the tile to keep from slipping back in the memory, and in the shower itself. He dragged at his hardness, biting his lip to stifle the sounds despite not having anyone else in the apartment. An intrusive thought broke through, husky and amused. *Heh, floating really made this a whole lot safer.*

He cursed his memory, even as he jumped in his hand. Now he was just wasting water, giving in to the inevitable. A moan stirred from his lips, wet with steam and flushed from biting them, his hand moved in practices pulls, rough, harder than he needed to be, just to get it done and get on with his night- *Not here.* A little voice interrupted, trickling in from shadowed corners of the ceiling and the dark recesses of his mind. *You know the beds a better bet.*

“Shut it.” Harbinger growled at the ghost, though he stilled his hand regardless at the suggestion, a blunt nail across his slit that made him hiss and bite into his lower lip. He should ignore the suggestion, finish himself before the hot water ran out, not give into the cloying memories that clung to him no matter how hard he scrubbed.

The bed it was.

While the mattress had changed, the size had not, yet the bed felt bigger sleeping in it alone. Dan laid back, tried to relax against the pillows, shut his eyes and think about anyone, anything, but Jed. His damn hair stuck uncomfortably to the back of his neck a distraction that persisted through the several uneventful minutes of heavy-handed pumps and his body’s refusal to climax. With a frustrated huff, he stared up at the ceiling.

Empty. He was empty. Hollow, used up, unfulfilled. At least the physical need he could satisfy tonight.

In the din his fingers fumbled for the bed stand drawer, finding the small bottle and then his toy, one used more oft than the other. He wrapped his mouth around the now-tasteless silicone needing both hands to unscrew the cap on the lube. His tongue traced the familiar nubs on the head of his toy, the semi-soft purple cock lacking all the fun textures and tastes that he'd come to enjoy with a real dick. But it didn't have to be human, it just had to get him off, and he groaned around it all the same as the first of his lube-slicked fingers teased into himself.

He sighed around the toy, closing his eyes to enjoy the sensation. One finger wasn't nearly enough, and Dan was forced to shift to his side, spreading his legs further for the second to join. He tried and failed not to recall how this felt with a partner, the anticipation, the want for them to tease deep enough to stroke his spot and relieve him of everything but the moment they were sharing. He thought of freckles and scars, of jokes about tying him down to not float away. A third finger flexed him wide in time to his hand once more on his erection. 'Just fill me.' He whined in his mind, though no one could hear, and the embarrassment of his need flushed his cheeks as much as his cock. He removed his fingers with a further keen, loathing the return of the emptiness even as he relished what was to come, spit dripping from his lips around his toy. This'd be easier on his knees.

It was a slow shift, reaching underneath himself to work the toy. He ground the sheets between his teeth, face framed in fallen hair, another layer to hide the subtle shame. His hand slipped, slick from the lube, forcing the tip against his prostate and just for a moment he could remember the calloused hands in perfect imprint, warm breath and that huff that always hid the laugh tingling the hair on the back of his neck.

*I like you like this Dan.*

It’s only after he groaned that Daniel realized he had mimed the words himself, not stirred them from memory. He flushed with a kind of shame. Was this where he’d fallen to? The man he’d become, empty, waiting, wanting? The toy pressed against his prostate again and chased away that line of thought. He went back to biting his sheets, reacclimating himself to the fullness, moaning unrestrained when he finally felt it slide fully into place.

*That’s it, that’s good, fuck you're still gorgeous.* The voice in his mind crooned, urging him on.

He wrapped his free hand back around his erection striking up an unsteady rhythm working the toy in counter to his motions. Daniel had to shift again for better access, to keep himself from sliding. His shoulders strained and hurt from the angle he made them work, groaning into the mattress as he fought for a much needed release. It wasn’t enough, and he had to work himself faster, knowing all too well he’d hurt tomorrow, but he didn’t care, in that moment the hand on his cock wasn't his own, the piece stretching him wasn’t a toy, and he was still young enough to float thanks to the heady excitement that pooled below his stomach, back when all these sensations were new.

His breathing came in heavier gasps, muffled by the mattress as he spat out the sheets. He tilted his head, looking along his long-since scarred chest to his leaking cock and the hand pumping it. Daniel flicked a nail against his head and he then bucked his hips into his fist, surrendering himself fully to his memories. Hot hands, hotter mouths, the taste of sweat and skin and orgasm, freckles, scars, new positions, new hopes, new love.

“I’m gunna-” He rasped, proclamation interrupted by a fresh moan. He wouldn’t last, he never did like this, burying his flushed features back in the sheets.

*Don’t hide your face, sunshine. I want to see you.*

“Jed.” He whined, loudly, and that was enough, coming across his hand and onto his sheets in the final release of a body wound far too tense. He bit his lip, holding his breath to savor every final shiver, the warm rush of post orgasm, and had he focused more he might have sworn he imagined a soft laughter slipping away as his body unwound.

As Daniel lay there spent for several long minutes, listening to the settling of his heart and evening of his breath, sweat cooling and his skin clammy, he finally realized he no longer heard the voice from his memories, the whispers of sweet nothing had faded into the silent corners in the shadowed bedroom. He grunted removing the toy, thighs trembling at the sudden emptiness and limp cock responding with a half-hearted twitch. Tired fingers fumbled for the towel to wipe himself down and with an effort he heaved his tired body through the greys of his room in search of fresh laundry.

Maybe tomorrow it’d be easier, back to the hum-drum of playing Marshal for Los Diablos, back to staring at the featureless faces that would leave or vanish or warp until they were as jaded as his was. Maybe tomorrow he’d stop being haunted by a long list of regrets and metaphorical basket full of too-little-to-late’s.

Harbinger crawled back into his bed, shoving aside the soiled sheet, and staring up into darkness. For a moment he yearned for the rough voice, the ghostly kisses, and could almost remember what it was like to feel his heart floating when those lovely, lost, eyes settled on him and not the what-ifs over his shoulder.

But like ash in the wind, the memory blew away, sending Daniel into a deep and blessedly dreamless sleep.

------

A shade of a man walked through an endless forest. The black trunks around him immovable as soldiers standing at attention, heads turned towards the near-starless sky. He didn’t glance up at the inky twilight, held no lamp for light, footsteps making no sounds against the soft debris of leaves and needles that carpeted the wood.

He didn’t need a map, spoke no words, legs taking him on a familiar trail visible to no one, weaving deeper and deeper into a clearing in the center of the muted, elegiac weald. The grasses rippled with an unheard wind and the empty cage at the far edge had long since given way to nature’s reclaim.It was only here that he finally looked up, the two paired stars overhead the only bit of light casting the world into greyscale instead of pitch. His smoke-made expression was inscrutable, the line that would have served for his mouth unmoving.

At last something seemed to confirm with him, some unknown message from the stars and the figure shook his head. He turned and paused at the edge of the clearing, for a heartbeat, or maybe an eternity, but with no sign or sound to keep him, he stepped out of the pale glow, and was swallowed up once more by the darkness.

#flystep #n////// s/////// f/////// w/////#others ocs #fallen hero #marshal harbinger au #My writing

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lit-works · 6 years ago

Text

Heroes For Hire: The Gang Wars Trilogy

Book 1: After Midnight

Prelude : RWST

The moonlight, pale and as mournful as lilies shone onto the chessboard through the steel-grated windows. Marc spector sat in the recreation room of the Ravencroft Institute for the criminally insane, as a committed patient. He looked away from the ensuing chess game momentarily to gaze through the secured windows. He observed a bird sitting in the tree just outside the window. He was sure it was a Falcon, perched there and looking in at him.

Marc had been committed for a number of atrocious crimes he had committed, the most severe of which include murder. The courts had said he had once cut a man’s face off. Since being at the hospital and receiving extensive treatment he had been diagnosed with Dissociative Identity Disorder, paranoid Schizophrenic hallucinations, and Hero syndrome (a phenomena in which the afflicted desperately crave notoriety or attention for heroic acts, to the extreme of creating catastrophic situations it seems only they can resolve). Hero syndrome most commonly has manifested itself in arson cases that went too far out of hand for the hero/arson. Dissociative Identity Disorder or Split-Personality as it had always been called before seemed to be the root of Marc’s troubling psychoses, according to his institutional psychiatrist. He had developed 3 personas to share his mind with.

He was born Marc Spector. A nondescript Jew growing up in the bronx. But he later became Jake Lockley, a cab driver with some shady connections. He was also Steven Grant, playboy millionaire. However, it was his final alter ego that had ultimately placed Marc into the position to wind up in Ravencroft. He had created the persona of the costumed vigilante Moon Knight, and claimed to have done the egyptian moon god Knoshu’s bidding. While under the guise of Moon Knight he performed numerous illicit activities.

Eventually, like many other psychopathic murderers, Marc was arrested and committed after being deemed mentally unsound to stand criminal trial. For months it seemed that Marc had finally received the help he needed and where he could be protected from and against the community.

But, Marc started having his horrible nightmares again. Cold sweat-inducing, scream evoking, night terrors that stirred him from his sleep to the light of the moon shining in on him in his cot. He was convinced, as he stated in the following therapy sessions that he believed Knoshu was sending him a message through his dreams. Though the message was enigmatic to Marc, the content of the dream itself was vividly concise : flame, with no heat, searing him deeper than the flesh. Dark spirits plotting and menacing. A brutal, savage war amid the very streets of New York littering the streets with the bodies of the youth. An ancient tome. All of this interspersed with vistas of the egyptian deserts and mythic symbolism of the egyptian polytheistic lore. “Typical of his schizoid delusions”, the good Dr. Leonard Samson proclaimed on one occasion.

Soon, Marc began to stop taking his medication. After waiting patiently in the queue for his “ding biscuits”, as the other patients called the thorazine and other various sedatives they were all heavily dosed with, he would cheek his meds instead of swallowing them. He had realized what Knoshu was attempting to convey to him. There was a horrible evil that would occur unless he, Moon Knight, took actions to stop it. He needed to be free of Ravencroft. He needed to fulfill Knoshu’s will.

Finally, on a full moon, just a few minutes before the grandfather clock of the rec room struck midnight Marc enacted his escape.

One of the graveyard shifts guards was performing his routine hall patrol, when he noticed movement in the peripheral of his eye in one of the cells. The treatment staff insisted they be called rooms, but they were cells as much as their inhabitants were criminals. The guard shone his flashlight through the window, and was mortified by what he saw. It appeared one of the patients had hung themselves, again. In a panic, the guard pressed the distress alert button on his radio and scrambled for the proper door key. Once the cell door was thrust open the guard rushed in to try and cut the patient down and hope he wasnt too late. He found himself rather surprised however when the patient was lighter than air and seemed to deflate in his grasp. He was holding onto a set of patients clothing that had been stuffed with pillows and blankets and strung from the central light fixture. Another sick joke the guards were constantly subjected to by the more sadistic or humorous patients. Immediately furious, the guard yanked the bundle of cloth from the ceiling and scanned the cell for the assigned patient. He did not even notice as Marc slipped the truncheon from the guards belt, only the whoosh of air as Marc brought it down onto his temple rendering him unconscious.

Marc had not wanted to hurt officer Bryant, but the man didnt drink coffee and therefore the confrontation could not be avoided. The other guards and remaining on-call medical staff had by this time in the evening had already consumed quite a large portion of what was available in the break and security rooms. Marc had taken the precaution of having his prescriptions diluted into the coffee so he would face minimal resistance during his escape. His fellow patient Quentin Beck, or as most knew him Mysterio, was a trusted patient who was allowed to work in the kitchens and had zero qualms with introducing the chemical into the staff’s diet.

He had to avoid capture if he wanted to follow his visions and fulfill Knoshu’s will, and so could not appear like the asylum escapee he was. So, he stole the white 3-piece suit from the good Dr. Leonard Samson as well as his cane and wing-tipped loafers. In a farewell to the institution, Marc then found a white bag that was often placed over the patients head during constraint to prevent the more violent patients from spitting or biting. He drew the lunar shape of an eclipsed moon on the bag before placing it over his own head and disappearing into the night, a shadow in the light of the night.

12:27 AM

Dispatch : all units, report. We need officers to investigate a potential breaking and entering at The Met. The internal alarms have been triggered, but not the outside alarms. Security staff reported they had footage of an unidentified suspect atop the roof and have sent their own to apprehend the individual. If you are in the area, please report.

Car 10-05 radio: dispatch, 10-4, officer Mcnally and Officer Medina en route to the Met. Investigating potential 10-15, over.

12:45 AM

Car 10-05 radio: Dispatch, this is car 10-05, officer Mcnally reporting from the Met. Investigating the potential 10-35 here, we're gonna need an ambulance out here the met’s security are all laid out. I think one of em got thrown from the roof. No currently visible suspect, still requesting back-up. Officer Medina and i are going to look around the area. Over.

Dispatch: 10-4, over. Car number 10-05 in 5th Avenue area, requesting back-up for 10-35 in progress. Also EMT and paramedic assistance required, a number of ppl are injured at 1000 5th Ave. Please respond, 10-3 over.

12:51 AM

Audio extracted from the patrol car dash-cam footage of squad car 10-05.

(Siren wailing)

(Hurried footsteps)

Officer Mcnally: (to officer Medina) well, what the fuck is this? (To suspect in white) freeze! Drop the cane and put your hands in the air!

Officer Medina: what are you doing at the Met after midnight, huh? The exhibits are closed.

(Silence passes for a few seconds)

Officer Mcnally: i said drop the cane and put your damn hands to the sky!

Officer Medina: damn it, im gonna cuff this clown.

(Sounds of scuffling, resistance and harsh slams)

(Struggle continues)

Officer Mcnally: You have the right to remain silent, asshole!! You have the right to an attorney!! Now get your ass up and into the squad car!!

Officer Medina: (guttural groans)

(Sounds of suspect being apprehended and placed into custody in squad car 10-05).

Officer Mcnally: you alright, Medina?

Officer Medina: bastard broke my arm!!! (Whimpers in pain)

Officer Mcnally over personal radio: Dispatch, suspect apprehended in 10-31 at the Met. Additional charges of about 13 assaults with a deadly weapon, as well as resisting arrest are gonna be pursued with this guy. Bastard sucker-punched the reinforcement officers as soon as they got here and gave me and Medina a pretty good thrashing too. We're gonna need another ambulance, officers injured. But, the suspect is in custody.

1:12 AM

Audio extracted from internal patrol car camera for squad car 10-05

Officer Mcnally: so, what's your name, guy?

Suspect: Moon Knight

Officer Medina: ok, there Mr. Knight you wanna explain to me why you got that bag on your head?

(Silence)

Officer Medina: i mean, the worst most ppl get around Halloween are some kids in costume on their door step, maybe a few eggs and rolls of TP thrown at their house. I get damn near put in traction by some fool breaking into the Met. I thought the holiday seasons were a time for peace on earth and good will towards NYPD.

Officer Mcnally: so, what were you doing there Mr. Knight.

Suspect: the moon led me to a heinous crime so i could stop it, and the moon will not tolerate your interference.

Officer Mcnally: The Moon? That code for something?

(Silence)

Suspect head arched back looking out the rear window of the squad car: I will not allow these misguided villains to stand in your way, I the Moon’s Knight of vengeance must carry out your luminous will.

Officer Medina: uhhh, are you seriously talkin’ to the moon??!! Like the one the cow jumped over??!!

Suspect: there is much more to the moon than the childish stories you know.

Officer Medina: ok, buddy. (Laughs) and i thought seeing a drunk witch fighting marilyn Monroe at that costume party was gonna be the weirdest thing we saw tonight.

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #heroes for hire #moon knight #marc spector #me #my fanfic #l1t3rat1

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