#SHIT I GOT SOME ANGST

[armenelols]

In deference to my recent bout of shitposting, have a daily reminder that Tolkien's half-elves have no happy ending and no matter what they choose, they'll still lose part of their family forever. They'll always be split between two people, neither fully one or the other, yet forced to pick one and lose the other

[yudidoodles]

I know this is nowhere near the most important thing during the Phoenix Hunt but its so funny to me that this is how he's trying to flirt lol

ft Wangxian being stupid in the background because that is the other reason this scene is so funny

[wandixx]

I'm not much for naming things but: Danny's associated with green and M'gann's a White Martian, so... Spearmint (like the green and white mint candies)? Just a thought.

Prompt: Magic removed Amity Park from the map. JL didn't notice, but in an Alderaan type moment (Star Wars ref. yay!) The martian on Watchtower monitoring duty heard the residents get silent unanimously.

Of course they need to be investigated! So M'gann gets her watch partner to take over and flies there, discovering an odd green rift of death energy doing a black hole effect and it sucks her in. Danny gets landed on/ flown into when she tumbles through the rift. She tried getting a message through to JL when she felt herself getting sucked in, but the message was not received due to ectoplasmic interference.

So Danny has to figure out how to get her AND Amity Park back home!

(Just a thought. I'm curious how you flesh it out if you do!)

This is such an interesting idea, and it definitely deserves much more story than I can write in single prompt, so this here is just a beginning and I will continue. I hope it's up to your expectations

Also, I really love the Spearmint idea

*****

M’gann understood the importance of monitor duty in Watchtower, she really did. She also understood why they were taught it while still in this gray area between fully dependent sidekicks and fully independent heroes, that was the main reason the Young Justice Team even existed.

It didn’t make it any less boring. Even when she had a decent duty partner. Don't get her wrong, Green Arrow was a much better option than Batman or Superman, it was just awkward. At least he seemed equally done with it and didn't scold her for jumping between satellite cameras just a bit too fast to actually ‘monitor’ anything.

And it was only twenty minutes into the two hour shift.

One of the sixty (or so) screens, the one directly in front of her, blinked to the view of the American Midwest. She was about to skip further, when a sudden movement caught her attention. She clicked a few keys to review the footage and asked, still unsure if her eyes weren't deceiving her.

“Did the entire city… just disappear?“

Green Arrow nodded, equally stunned.

“I'm going to check this out” she spluttered, already flying out of the room and doing her best to get Zeta to send her as close as possible. It was a bit tricky when she couldn't see the keyboard. She managed though, so before the adult hero even finished yelling that it was above her skill level, she was out.

From there, getting to the disappeared city was a piece of cake.

She stopped right in tracks when the thing came in view. M'gann had no idea how to describe it. It was a green and white and black storm but not, glass, see-through dome but not, deep space but also decidedly not. It made her want to run away but also come closer, almost like it was tugging at her. Like some pseudo, mental in nature, gravitation.

Oh, wait, no. It was an actual, physical force that after a quick test turned out to be inescapable for her.

Green Arrow, perhaps, maybe probably was kinda right. It was so high above her skill level that a balled napkin from this height would cause serious damage. Thank Batman for comms that she could use to call a backup!

The comms, that, of course, didn't work the one time she needed them.

She sent the message anyway, describing everything to the best of her ability, even though it was only a tip of the iceberg. Just in case, if the magical storm thing just made her comm one way communication only. It was highly unlikely, but who was she, if not an optimist.

She barely closed her mouth, when she was jerked sideways before the whole world became blurred.

She later would have a hard time telling anyone how it felt, to be inside the thing. She was basically powerless, thrown around randomly despite clearly keeping all of her abilities. She couldn't see, couldn't tell which way was up and down, couldn't change direction even a little bit. The rumble of the thing was so loud she couldn't hear her thoughts, throwing her brain so off the loop she forgot what her name was. She was crying probably, almost puking, her limbs hitting any and every part of her body.

At first, she didn't even realize she was out, so dazed from the ride. She didn't even see the flying boy until a while after she crashed into him, throwing them both off the sky. Neither of them caught them before they slammed into the ground. Somehow she ended up cushioning the boy's fall. M’gann couldn’t breathe for a moment. She kinda deserved it for ramming into him in the first place though.

By the time she could use her lungs and behave like a social creature again, the boy scrambled off her and just crouched, intensely staring, anxious and awestruck at the same time. She sat up and gave him once over herself.

He was around her physical age, but much skinnier than her or anybofnher teammates, build like a twig. He had fluffy, white, almost glowing hair, caucasian complexion, and wore a black and white jumpsuit with a tool belt. Big ‘P’ on his chest indicated he was someone from a hero/villain scene, and from general vibes she got, M’gann was leaning towards a hero. He was kinda cute. She coughed awkwardly when she realized how long they just sat in silence.

“Hi?”

Apparently it was enough to release an incoherent babbling from the boy.

“Hi, um… Miss Martian, ma'am? I'm Phantom. What are you doing here? Is the rest of your Team going to fall off the sky too? Justice League?”

“Not right now probably”

She was ignored. Phantom just kept panicking.

“Is this some of your villain's schemes? Are you alright? You crashed pretty hard, sorry I landed on top of you by the way, do you–?”

“I'm fine, don't worry I got worse”

“Sure…”

“Sorry I threw you off the sky”

“Not your fault, really, it's fi–”

“You asked what I'm doing here. I went on my own to investigate when I saw the city blink out of existence and got sucked in. I'm not sure if my report from site made it through, but they know where I went, so they'll soon come to help, don't worry”

Phantom did not stop worrying.

“Alright, cool, cool” he ran his hand through his hair, tugging at them “The Justice League knows you mysteriously disappeared along with an entire city. This is fine, totally fine, absolutely–”

“You're panicking”

“No shit Sherlock. Someone kidnapped my city again and I have no idea how to fix it because my usual tactic is ‘punch the cause of the problem into submission’ and this time I can't punch the storm. Now you're here so if something happens, I’ll have pissed of Justice League to worry about because, of course, it will be my fault. You could be overshadowed and I have no clue what's going on but I have to fix it as soon as–”

“Breathe Phantom“ she interrupted again, projecting what the Team called ‘calming vibes’. Since it didn't involve outright entering someone's brain and humans almost didn't react to it, it was an okay thing to do without asking even on non-villains. “Remember, I'm a hero, not a damsel in the distress you have to protect non stop”

“Of course, you're not. You're Miss Martian. You're amazing, but it doesn't give me any more of an idea on what's going on nor what to do with Justice League when they come, obviously furious because everyone in Amity and their mother will testify that it was somehow my fault, especially if–”

“Hey, hey, none of that. I know you're a good guy and they’ll too. I will vouch for you if for some reason they get misled”

Phantom looked her in the eyes as if he was trying to read her mind himself without even an ounce of psychic powers. She could tell if he used it.

“I could be a bad guy,” he said seriously after a moment of silence.

“I know you're not”

“You don't know me”

“You spent almost all of our interaction agonizing over how to save your city. It's not typical bad guy behavior”

“I could be acting”

M’gann didn't even dignify it with her response other than an incredulous stare.

“ Alright, if I've been acting, I would be a lot cooler but still… I could be acting!”

“I'm a literal psychic, remember? I didn't read your thoughts, don't worry, I know it's invasive for humans. But I got a general overview of who you are, and your vibes matched pretty well with the vibes of good guys”

“Sure, of course, why not,” he muttered, taking a moment to reboot “Why is this my life now?”

M’gann decided it wasn't to her and well… Phantom wasn't wrong, she didn't know him, so however she'd try to answer it was pretty much hit or miss. But from what she'd seen of him, she was curious to learn more.

“Nevermind, let's get you a Specter Deflector before anyone tries to use you as a meatsuit” he said, catching her wrist to drag her somewhere.

She let him lead her. He still didn’t have any nefarious reasoning, and hey! Maybe she'll finish this adventure with a new teammate!

[Sure M’gann. Just a teammate. Don't worry, Danny won't be a panicked mess all of the time here]

[ao-xingyume1987]

Bittersweetness (practice)

[trebuchet151]

This is jumping the queue bc some really cool people reblogged my last post of Corey and they escaped containment.

Updated sidestep design perpetual WIP

Sidestep days vs retribution. They're slowly reacquiring their self expression. Next book will probably be the full return of the scene/punk look

Bonus Corey sans most of their clothing to show off their tattoos under the cut. CW for healed SH scars

Yes that is Ortega's bedroom yes I half assed it. I drew this background in my car at work when it was like 110 degrees idgaf

[stevesbipanic]

"You really haven't changed."

Sometimes, change is bad. Steve didn't like change when they moved to a bigger house when he was three, further from his grandparents. He didn't like when his mum stopped kissing his forehead goodnight. He didn't like when his dad started calling him Steven instead of champ. He didn't like seeing horrors behind his eyes where once were dreams.

Sometimes, change is good. Change can come in hugs from a fourteen year old instead of slaps on the back from a fellow player. It can come in your best friend joining in your dorky jokes instead of tripping kids. It's the walkie talkie beside his bed. It's feeling good for once.

Steve thought he'd changed for the better.

Eddie did too, or, at least Steve thought he did.

It had been a rough week for the boys, bills were due, tensions were high, hours were long and love was hard to find.

Steve had promised to pick up groceries on the way home, but he was so tired, and a shower and bed were so close, he's honestly surprised he even made it home the way his eyelids had been fluttering.

Eddie wasn't even supposed to be home til late but a part had to be ordered for the car he'd been fixing and wouldn't get there til tomorrow so he was home by dinner exhausted from a double shift to fix some rich wanker's car.

Eddie knows he should've understood. He should've seen Steve sleeping there and curled up beside him. But they hadn't had food for lunch so Eddie was starved and tired and his van's been acting up and Steve had promised that morning a sad look on his face when he knew Eddie would be missing lunch. The fridge is empty and Steve's asleep and he's so tired he should just sleep beside his boyfriend.

But it's not just the groceries.

It's the red due date on the bill on the fridge door.

It's the cold water in the shower he knows awaits him.

It's the fact that Steve didn't even kiss him goodbye since last Tuesday.

It's the cold part of Eddie's heart, the part Al Munson put there that no matter how much kindness Susie Munson put in would never leave.

It's the way they're screaming at each other now, over things they would've joked about last Spring when they first moved in.

It's the way they've been sleeping facing apart for three weeks.

It's the way Steve is crying and it doesn't make Eddie stop to dry his cheeks anymore.

It's the way Eddie knows how to hurt him.

"You really haven't changed."

It's the click of the door as Eddie leaves.

It's the way a slam would've hurt less.

It's the way the bed feels just as cold as the night before.

It's the crack in Steve's voice when he calls Robin.

It's the boxes in the driveway.

It's the word bullshit in his mind.

Sometimes change is good.

Steve thought he'd changed for the better.

It didn't stop the worst change of all.

The change that made them say goodbye.

[gomzdrawfr]

Everything but you

another fic for PriceRaven, BUT this is an art + fic combo fic :3 I'll do a separate post for just the art (or you can check out this clip i posted on twt), so for now, enjoy this mess

this fic is within PriceRaven's cannon timeline, somewhere after MW3 and during fishy arc

tags:

angst and fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn, canon-typical violence and behavior, character study (done poorly), grief, major character death (MCD), mention of MW3 content, author trying to be poetic but most likely just messing up the narrative flow, miscommunication, happy ending

author's note:

word count: 6,048 (the back part is not proof read)

the italics are internal thoughts or third perspective thoughts

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━ [this divider represent a time skip]

Raven knew the possibility of Price having to leave for a period of time, and was fully aware of the escalation of things when the news of Makarov started popping up.

“To update you on the breaking news of a Russian passenger jet that crashed…”

“A hundred and thirty-three passengers and nine crew members were on board the flight…”

“Descending very rapidly…..unexplained descent…..” 

“Kastovia flight 761 bound for sochi…” 

“...just hours after a missile attack on Arklove Military Base…..looks to be a terrorist attack” 

They both knew then, that this would be the beginning of a long separation.

A quick goodbye, a hug and a kiss.

A swift departure, leaving Raven to tend to their home with their two lovely cats, their girls, after the shit show that went down between Cobra and Vik. 

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━

Months later, Price would return a changed man, sprawled on the front door and drenched by the rain, clutching onto Raven for dear life as he shakes.

She’d never seen this man in this state; never seen Price that would openly show his distress to this level. 

She could deduce that the operations most likely did not go well, and something terrible must’ve happened.

The guess confirms itself in the form of a watch.

Soap’s watch. Resting on his desk.

And later, a conversation.

“We’ll have to abandon everything”

“The house, the plants, the cars-”

“The girls…”

There was a sense of urgency in his tone,  its timbre deepened and solemn since his return. A frown etched between his brows, accompanied by an increased consumption of cigars and even cigarettes.

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━

“I tied one of many loose ends”

He murmured into her skin in the quiet of night where the world is asleep. Price returned hours ago, dressed in a dark overcoat and a beanie, with a handgun beneath his shirt. 

“Did you now?”

Shepherd huh.

She whispered back, feeling his chin resting on her shoulder, his beard tickling her skin slightly, properly nestled in his arms, but there weren't the usual giggles and laughter that surrounded the two.

No, this was their last night on this bed, on this home.

Their last night in the comforts of their safe haven. 

“Mm” He mumbled back, palms covering her arms as he hugged her closer, spooning her in his arms.

Nervous that somehow, she’ll slip away, taken away from his grasp. 

“....” “Tell me, Pricey” She brushed his knuckles, easing his tension.

“Will you follow me still, Raven….? Even if we have to leave…” he trails off, leaving things unsaid.

She understood fully the gravity of the question. Even if we have to leave away our hopes and dreams, dreams of settling down, growing old peacefully, dreams of comfort and promises of the future.

“Where would I go if not with you, John?”

“...I don’t know, Singapore?”

“...and what does Singapore have to offer again?”

“Really good seafood” 

“So you’re assuming I’ll pick seafood over you?”

“Well, I was hoping you don’t”

A small chuckle escapes her, which made him smile in return, some of the pressure and uneasiness dispersed from this exchange.

“I won’t leave you” She whispered back, holding his hand up to kiss his fingers. Bittersweet murmurs exchanged throughout the night that comforted the two.  “Alright then, Eira”

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━

It was exhilarating and intense for Raven to get back on the field with Price, joined as an ally to provide much-needed support in the mess and development following the escape of Makarov from the Trojan Horse mission.

But they have to admit it was exhausting having to move constantly without a proper place to settle down.

Physically and mentally.

Which explains why they’re here now, on this island that Raven can only assume that it's a personal island owned by Price.

“You telling me you own this place?!”

“Ah well, I wouldn’t say “own”, birdie…”

She still doesn’t fully comprehend what he meant by that.

It was a much needed break, being surrounded by the ocean and forest, exploring the places, catching fishes and crabs.

Price hasn’t seen Raven smiled this much in a long time.

Raven witnessed a side of Price she had longed to see: relaxed, carefree, and at peace. Yet, beneath his newfound calmness, she sensed something off about Price that hinted at a deeper turmoil within him.

There were moments when he'd gaze into the distance, lost in thought, thinking.

Pondering.

This was, unfortunately, one of the many truths Raven had come to understand about Price.

More often or not that contemplative look of his means he is plotting or thinking ahead of things, which inherently, is not a bad thing.

It only became problematic when he kept these plans from her, setting things in motion without her knowledge.

Because that’s what Price does.

Plan, execute, reflect, repeat. 

The other negative trait from this, is that it always means there is something he was harboring within that was threatening to break apart. Troubles he would rather deal with alone.

Things that slowly etched eats him out bit by bit on the inside. 

Now, Price was a man of many many thoughts, meticulously organized into mental compartments, sealed, and cast into the abyss of the unknown.

A man who had no room for lingering emotions: guilt, anger, sadness – anything that could hinder his motives, his plans, his every step. 

A man that is calm, quiet, composed and in control, with a constant battle inside he can never say or show.

Behind his eyes, Raven saw it all.

The ocean behind those eyes of his are no longer violent and roaring, similar to when they had to toss their belongings into a pool of fire after that last night in their home.

Freedom tastes like ash and anger after all.

His eyes are now shrouded in darkness, like the deep blue sea.

Suffering and screams muffled in silence.

Drowning.  

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━

“Up for a ride, birdie?”

“Sure”

It wasn’t uncommon for them to venture into the sea at night, they would drive out in their trusty lil boat (named Cash ‘n’ Fly) far enough until the horizon stretched endlessly, with a seamless line between the sea and the starry sky.

It creates an illusion of infinite space and solitude.

A small escape from everything.

What set this trip apart was the cigar hanging loosely between Price’s lips.

She counted the amount of cigar he used daily, and it was reduced to one or two per day during their break.

So to see him light it up, the fourth one of the day, right now, especially when it's dark and quiet, it could only mean one thing.

“You know…Eira”

And so it begins.

Everything but you.

She had anticipated this conversation, in some form or another.

She didn’t know it would be…this.

Leaving me with the island? I’ll have everything?

And I am supposed to be content with this?

Price was a hardened soldier, a veteran.

A seasoned Captain that has done enough chaos and has enough body piles up below him more than he could handle.

Battles stitched across his skin and back, hands coated in blood and regrets that clung onto his soul.

Far from a savior, close to a sinner.

Hands that were better suited for violence, instead of softness.

It should’ve been just another one of those moments, where he’d tell off some of his men, his soldiers, people who depended on him, boys and girls alike, to leave, to never come back.

To leave him.

So why is it so different when it comes to…the person before him now?

Why does this ache so differently?

What Price has in mind, doesn’t quite align with what John wants.

Needs.

John craves for the simplicity of being loved. Yearns for warmth and understanding, desperate for someone to look into his eyes and see the real him.

John thinks about Eira, thinks about her, her hands, her voice, and he wants more, more and more, a beast that is never satisfied, that can never get enough.

John wants to drown in love. In her.

Price fears that John loves more than he is ever allowed to. 

Price wants what is right.

It’s for the best.

The one sentence that helps justify everything, doesn’t it? 

“....”

Price watches as she stood up abruptly after a long uncomfortable silence, seeing her approaching the bow of the boat-

“Raven?--”

A loud splash was heard, and his body moved before he could process anything.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?! Have you lost your mind?? RAVEN??”

Raven, out of all the possible reactions he has anticipated, does none of what he expected and dives into the black sea.

“I'm going back to land!” She yells back with a strain, huffing as she proceeds to swim to the general direction of where the shore was. 

“That’s way too far!! You’ll freeze your arse before you could even reach it!!” “GOOD, I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO DIE IN THE OCEAN ANYWAYS”

“EIRA!!”

God dammit.

He quickly drove the boat, starting up the engine to propel the boat towards her, careful not to hit her as he quickly pulled her aboard.

“What–what are you trying to achieve by doing something stupid like this?”

“Nothing productive”

“Ei-”

He stops mid-sentence, seeing her freezing and trembling form, sea water coating her entire form as she shakes like a leaf on the wood.

For a split second, he wanted to ask if she cried, when he saw the red corners from her eyes.

Instead, he took off his jacket and outer shirt to wrap it around her.

The ride home was nothing but silence.

━━━━━━❆━━━━━━━

A letter and a necklace, that should be all.

Price thought to himself as he placed the necessary items on the table outside their room, with a heavy bag on his left as his thumb lingered on the necklace.

An owl head marble piece hangs at the end of it, an item he found comfort in whenever they were separated.

Not like it would be…of any use now.

He brushed it one last time, before heading out, leaving Raven behind.

At least, that’s what he intended to do, to leave behind the one person he had willingly, and stubbornly let into his life.

And now, he’s walking away like a mad man.

He sees Nik’s heli in the far distance, the sight both a relieving but solemn reminder of what is about to happen.

Usually, he wouldn’t think.

Just walk, it’s right there.

Yet, he stays rooted in the sand, as if waiting for a miracle.

“Is that it?!” A shout made him flinch slightly, turning around only to be completely knocked down into the sandy beach.

“You think you can throw me aside like a doll, a birdie with songs you’ve grown bored of, is it?”

“Wha-”

A loud clean slap, with the sting now buzzing on his left cheek as his eyes widened.

“You– you don’t get to decide what’s right for me”

“Listen here you– prick! Old geezer whatever the fuck you are right now-” 

“You only get to choose me once, you either live with me forever, or we live our lives apart”

“Can you live your life without me?”

“Eira–”

“Don’t you dare say anything other than to answer my questions”

A long uncomfortable silence stretched between them, as Raven stayed straddling his chest as he lay against the sand that felt like it was burying him up.

It wasn’t when he felt the warm drops of tears on his cheek that his eyes truly met her. 

“....do I mean nothing to you? Am i…just another pawn for you in the grand scheme of things? That could be abandoned once you’re done?”

“What happened to staying together through thick and thin? What about the vows you exchanged when you put this ring on my finger?”

More tears streamed down her face, hands shakily but tightly gripping his collar

“Answer me, coward”

That finally broke Price out of the trance as he quickly reached up to cup her face, brushing away the droplets of pain and sorrow that dampened her delicate face.

“I have to go…” “Why…? Just…just why?” “I wrote everything in the letter-” “I don’t care about the damn letter…tell me straight in the face”

“I can’t-” “John, please”

“I CAN’T LOSE ANOTHER ONE–”

Now it was Raven’s time to pause, a frown that formed for a split second before it softened.

“....” She sighs, letting go of his collar as she cradled his cheeks.

“....you know you won’t” “That’s what I said to him too…you know”

“....it wasn’t your fault”

“sunshine…I called him sunshine…Eira….I-”

“You didn’t know”

“I should’ve…”

His eyes glistened as vision blurred, the months of unshed grief escaping, cascading down to the sand.

Price never got to grieve, it swirls inside, a little bit like a black hole, like infinity. 

A small part of him is lost with every soldier and civilian he loses.

And Soap took a big chunk of him, a good part perhaps, one of his– kinder shards. 

Another, is stuck frozen in the moment, in the tunnel. No goodbye, just an absence, sudden, abrupt end, a gunshot louder than any screams that ensues.

Price tends to get rid of grief, one way or another, because it reminds him of his mistake, because it feels like he is holding onto a lost cause.

But here’s the thing about loss, grief is hanging onto love.

It is why it is always felt at all times.

Even on days where he thought he’d healed, while other days it was like old wounds opening up deeper than before.

There was not a day where he wouldn’t miss his favorite Scottish gremlin. 

And if his absence was strong enough that it makes it hard to breathe, he could only imagine what it would be like if Eira’s gone as well.

“I can’t lose you”

There is no more desperate creature, than a human being on the verge of losing love.

She sighs, leaning down as she lays down next to him on the sand ungraciously, staring up the sky with him

“....leaving me alone here on this island doesn’t guarantee my safety either, you know that right?”

“I have my people watching you here…” “And a tsunami could come and drown us all”

“Well if that happens I would know-” “No, no you won’t”

She can tell he was about to argue as she shushes him gently, turning to face him, uncaring for the sharp sandy stones that scratched into her ear.

“You can’t always take the blame for things out of your control”

She murmured, holding his palm

“...and you can’t let your worry cloud your conscious and…do something stupid like this”

“Don’t push me away, when you’ve already made a place in my heart that will never be replaceable by anyone.”

“....you think this was dumber than you jumping into the ocean?”

“Absolutely” He chuckles lightly, raising a brow as he smiles.

“I don’t want to be…your regret, John” She whispered, voice breaking a little

“Even if we were not meant to be together…we’ve proved that idea wrong, time and time again…”

He shifted, sitting up slightly as he pulls her onto his lap, hands brushing away the sand on her hair slightly (failing, sands are stubborn lil shits) as he lets out a quiet sigh

“I dream of a time where…the universe was never wrong to begin with, and you’re mine to keep…forever”

“Well you ought to pick a better dream” She smiles, leaning up as she landed a small kiss on his nose

“This dream is already true, because Im yours forever, and ever”

“You are stuck with me, whether you like it or not”

“I suppose I am, aren't I…” “Absolutely…” He smiles, and hugged her tightly, everything about this felt neither wrong or right.

It felt like home.

“Now, are you going to continue mopping around in the sand or will Nik start throwing a tantrum when we get there? Last time he did he defied physics..."

“Im sure man’s busy with the coconuts and alcohol over there, plus we need to get your stuff–”

“It’s in your bag”

“my–what?”

He unzips the cover, and realize that somehow Eira’s sneaked her belongings inside

“No wonder it got heavier…” “Im telling you, you’re an idiot” He laughs slightly, ruffling her hair as they stood up, pulling her closer by the ends of her shirt as he kissed her forehead.

“Yes…but I’m your idiot…”

[flemlem]

I wonder how character laughing at q!tubbo wanting create back, the only thing he sees as making himself useful, will affect his character in the future.

I wonder how his view of the people went along with it will change. I womder how fast he will start giving them stuff and doing things for them to go 'look, look at what I can do for you now. I promise, it Was worth it. You weren't stupid for helping me'

I wonder.

[meimi-haneoka]

{drabble} Somewhere I belong - Kaito/Akiho

This is the second Kaito x Akiho / YunaAki drabble that is paired with the first one I wrote from Akiho's POV. Please read that one first so you can have a better understanding of the situation!

The setting is the same as the first drabble, but Kaito's thoughts drift all over the place because....well, he's Kaito. He's been officially named as the "overthinker" by CLAMP so now I'm going to call him that for quite some time 😂

As you will be able to see, while Akiho thought to herself without problems that she loved him, you won't see Kaito thinking that, here. This is a very early stage of their new life and he's still far from acknowledging any of that, but he's starting to come to terms with things, at least.

This one might be a bit more angstier than the other one, again because this is Kaito we're talking about. His self-loathing won't disappear overnight. But I hope that the finale will comfort you, at least. ❤️

Once again, I'm not a native English speaker so forgive me if any line sounds weird!

P.s. Dandelion, thank you again! P.s.2 Yes, I also like Linkin Park 😁

Excerpt:

“I’m sorry...”, I blurted out, in a whisper. Every time we ended up in this situation, I would apologize. And she would never reply to it.   Maybe an apology wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but I had yet to find out what were the right words to say. 

Kaito's POV

I don't think I'll ever be able to forget it. 

The way she looked at me when they told her everything, that night.  The way she had slowly turned her head and kept her gaze fixed on me, while the British magician rattled off all that my plan had entailed, down to the way it had affected my body. He recovered all the previous memories, and he knew Akiho-san needed an explanation more than anyone else, but also knew I was in no condition (neither mental, nor physical) to give it to her. I could feel her gaze piercing through me, while someone was helping me sitting down, as I couldn't even stand up. 

Her hands gripped tightly the tablet, shaking. Her blue eyes, usually crystalline and bright like the Caribbean Sea, darkened several shades and became like a raging storm. They once again glazed over with emerging tears, but she probably held them back, because not even one dropped. 

And I felt so weak. My guilt, growing again by the second.   I would've given anything to remove that hardened gaze from her and bring back the soft features I've always known. But you see, that was my problem.   Giving everything the way I did before wasn’t the correct answer. And I had finally surrendered to the truth, that night.  But I didn't know any other way. I simply didn't know how to express how important she is to me without pushing it to an extreme, and that was exactly how we came to that point.  

I don’t know when exactly I started to hear that voice inside of me, telling me that I wanted to connect with her. 

I could hear it every day, before I carried out my plan. Louder and louder and louder. Kicking and screaming inside of me. I tried to fight it for so long, forcing myself not to hear it. But when she asked Sakura-san to bring me back, and she stated that she refused to keep living a fabricated life, wanting to go back to what she had before with me, I suddenly grew so tired. So, so tired. I was exhausted. I didn't want to fight it anymore. 

I've fought countless magicians ever since I was a little boy, and defeated every single one of them. People kept me at a distance for that. And yet, completely oblivious to all of that, she was the one who defeated me every single time.   Even this time around, she won. She won over that brutal, devastating desire to disappear forever that had consumed my life to such degree. She won over my guilt and self-loathing that I, quite frankly, haven’t got rid of yet. 

So here I was, now, clinging to her like a lifeline in the kitchen, while I waited to regain control of my breathing. I had tried to hide it from her, the first couple of times after I got back on my feet, following that fateful night. But she found out every single time and made very clear that if we wanted to live together from now on, this had to stop. I didn't know what to do with myself anymore. Why was I fighting it again?  So I did as she requested, and by now, this was already the third episode of seizure she had witnessed. 

I didn't know.... how any of this worked. But I wanted to learn. I wanted to try. 

I was slowly starting to get it. Why I caved in and agreed to go back to her, that night, despite how confused I was and how much I still despised myself for making her cry like that.   She made me feel wanted.   Made me feel accepted. Made me feel like I finally belonged somewhere. I hadn’t realized how much I actually had yearned for that, all this time. 

I thought I was nothing to her. I thought that she could've lived perfectly fine without me, without remembering anything of what we experienced together. Because, in the end, who was I? Just her butler. I embarked on that mission with the full understanding that I would've always been just her butler, and I played that part till the end at the best of my ability. An expendable tool to let her reach the happiness she deserved.  

But I wasn't. I wasn't, and I couldn't see that. I could only finally realize it that night in the most harrowing way possible, causing that face I wished to see eternally smile to be tainted with burning tears, as she poured out all her pain. Pain that I had caused. This wasn't the kind of support she wanted from me, and I failed her terribly. 

I was willing to do anything to make things right. So when she asked me, no, rather demanded to not be kept in the dark whenever I had one of my seizures, I had no choice but to comply. That was what she wanted, and there was no way I could refuse it to her. 

But now that the medicine was finally starting to kick in, and my breathing stabilized to a more normal rate, I raised my head to look at her worried face and I couldn’t help but think how unfair all of this was on her. She was so young, and she didn’t deserve to withstand all of this because of my choices.  

“I’m sorry...”, I blurted out, in a whisper. Every time we ended up in this situation, I would apologize. And she would never reply to it.   Maybe an apology wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but I had yet to find out what were the right words to say. 

She helped me stand up and supported me all the way to the couch, where I finally laid down and released the tension from my stiffened muscles. Seizures usually left me completely exhausted and sore.  

She sat down on the floor next to the couch, and we exchanged a long, wordless stare. Her eyes were again clear and bright. Before I drifted in a dreamless heavy sleep, I remember I felt so grateful to have her by my side.   I didn’t deserve it.   But the warmth I felt in my chest, contrarily to before, felt so nice.   And I was pretty sure she was the cause of it. 

[seapiglet]

The only way I would've accepted seeing pre-fall Crowley and Aziraphale together is if they were like in the Heaven cafeteria, Crowley complaining to a celestial dinnerlady that the lunch options all look bad ("the food hadn't been that good lately"), while Aziraphale walks by in the other direction, needlessly worrying about something. Neither notices the other. They were this close and yet!

Perhaps Aziraphale and another angel are even discussing some rumour about angels starting to ask questions of The Almighty and expresses concern.

Keep in the "how much trouble can I get into for asking a few questions?" or whatever from Crowley but have it be with the disgruntled dinnerlady or one of Lucifer's crew he was presumably hanging out with. Show one of these soon-to-be-cast-out angels casually mentioning to him that they're thinking of bringing up a few of their concerns to "the boss" and would he be interested? It's worth a shot after all. What harm could it to?

Just anything to make it less fucking needlessly dramatic and serious.

[twpsyn-who]

Soulmate AU in which when you touch your soulmate you swap bodies. It needs to be skin on skin contact and is instant. The only way to get back in the previous body is to touch again, otherwise you're stuck like that.

No matter the body all psychological and physical damage stays with you. That means if you get hurt then swap bodies, you will still feel it despite no longer having the wounds. This is only the case of existing wounds prior to swapping ; if new wounds happen to the hurt body after the swap you won't feel them, but the person in the body when it happens will. A very complicated way of saying that you can't get away from pain by swapping bodies with your soulmate as it will follow you.

There's no known consequences to not changing bodies back once swapped, though some might get sick for a few days after swapping back if they waited a long period of time to change back (say over a month, even longer depending on individual)

Now this but, you know... JeanMarco. And of course they find out during their time in the 104th Training Corps, because there's no way their skin didn't touch at least once in +3 years of training and being as close as they are. It isn't until break when they're able to visit home that they learn what it truly means ; up until that point they used it to swap chores (is the only reason why Jean didn't try to kill Eren during their shared chores- because it was actually Marco all along). At that point they knew each other perfectly.

Of course the whole situation was a little bit awkward for both of them when returning. They probably would end up avoiding each other for a bit because teenager boys and stuff, all until someone finally got the guts to mention the tension and ask them what's wrong- which forces them to talk and stuff. Doesn't matter, this is not what I want to talk about.

But the beautiful battle of Trost and what if, hypothetical speaking of course, they touch skin after Jean gets another ODM? And they're so used with each other by now, they don't even notice until the mission is nearly done anyway. And I don't know man, the idea of Jean dying while in Marco's body? Marco (in Jean's body) saying "I need to find Marco" once the mission is a success and research for his soulmate, just for him to not find him?? Not find him until 3 days later when some of them are assigned cleaning duty in Trost and he finds his own fucking body bitten in half???

The realization that it should've been Marco who died that day, but didn't because he was in Jean's body. The realization that not only his soulmate is dead, but he's stuck living his life. He's stuck living the life Jean can't because he died in Marco's place.

SEEING YOUR DEAD SOULMATE EVERYDAY WHEN YOU LOOK IN THE MIRROR. Poor Marco would most likely avoy any reflective surface for a very long time, unable to see Jean's face looking at him.

The guilt of lying to everyone, because how does one even begin to explain what's going on? Him lying to Jean's mother to protect her from the harsh truth of the reality- that her son actually died and the one in front of her was a fake.

And the sad truth is that no one would notice because they've been doing it for months already. They knew how to act like each other to perfection. Even if Marco slipped at some point no one would question it because they got many traits from each other already.

[rexscanonwife]

I'm a little sleep deprived and it's late but never underestimate to make any media angsty 0_0

But there's so much mystery behind Sportacus, his upbringing, and the 9 previous heroes before him. We don't really know anything about it but it seems to be (at least among fans) passed down GENERATIONALLY through a family tree, and you gotta imagine it's something that's trained into them from a young age.

Idk I was just watching the show and thinking about how sweet and playful Sportacus is 🥺🥺💖💖 he's always going along with the kids' games and such, it kinda makes me wonder if he likes to join them because he didn't really have anyone to play with while he was growing up.

[ed3mm]

Y'all ever read a fic where it's hurt/comfort and the author is really good at writing angst, but not comfort, because this just happened to me. Pretty sure the last few chapters were supposed to be the comfort but it just made me more upset

[cjauswrites]

dialogue-heavy clausten fic i wrote while scientists performed genetic experiments on me (PART TWO)

warning this one came out a lot longer and angstier than the first part

Read part one here!-

The couple would settle themselves amidst their banter, which left behind a far more comfortable silence than before. It was hard to believe that those two were adults in their mid 20s-- with Claus pushing 27-- with all of the playful back-and-forth bickering they'd do.

In that regard, they might as well have been schoolchildren.

And yet, there was Ninten, now handling a roll of gauze that he'd use to attentively patch up his lover's poor, damaged wing. Holding the draconic appendage as if it were the most priceless artifact in the world, one more precious than every speck of gold in King What's-his-pork's vault.

And there was Claus, allowing a commoner to so freely hold the most fragile and sensitive part of him. The commander's trust was one that belonged to no other.

"So," Ninten cleared his throat, yearning to break the silence between them with a question that had been nagging him ever since Claus showed up; "how'd it happen?"

"Huh?"

"Were you just flying here to see me, and a rebel shot at you? You had to be closeby, right? Otherwise you would've went to that guy... the- the donut guy. Your chimera doctor." The uncertain statement was punctuated with a lopsided shrug. "Because, like, if it's someone in the neighborhood, maybe it'll make the path here safer for you if I snitch on 'em."

Claus's lips didn't move to speak. The redhead's bony fingers would fidget with the pocket corners of his wrinkled cargo pants, black-painted nail scratching at the tightly-woven seams underneath the rough fabric.

"Wait. You... you didn't walk this far from home with a broken wing and a possible assassin on your tail just to visit me, right Claus?"

The commander ignored him once again, deliberately turning his head away.

"Claus."

"Fine," Claus threw his hands up in defeat, "I wasn't- I wasn't at home, but home would've... technically been a faster walk."

Of course he did. Ninten would dip his head with a deep sigh, cradling the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. "You know I love you, Claus, but you have to start getting medical treatment for things like this. I can't fix entire bulletwounds with my PSI."

"It seemed to work, kinda."

His boyfriend's casual, nonchalant attitude towards literally being shot was enough to make Ninten furrow his eyebrows. He let agitation seep into his voice, as much as he internally wished he wouldn't. "Your wing isn't a vital organ."

"Listen, I'm sorry," the soldier's voice was laced with a slight twinge of anxiety, "I don't like doctors, okay? I just.. If it happens again I'll find a home-remedy."

God. Ninten twitched at the mere thought of his boyfriend treating his next potentially-lethal bulletwound at home. His boyfriend, the man with no healing PSI. The one who-- though Ninten loved him-- could hardly even stitch up the holes in his own clothes. That boyfriend.

"And pray tell, what is a 'home-remedy' for a bulletwound to you, Claus? Gonna slap a few band-aids on it? Gonna crawl to your living quarters and drown it out, as usual?!" Ninten loudly drew in a deep, shaky breath to steady himself, giving a futile, short-lived effort to rein in his emotions. He brought his hands up to the sides of his head and rubbed away at his temples. "Y-You always do this thing-- where you put yourself in mortal danger and expect me to act like it's just another wacky tuesday. Oopsie-daisy, my genocidal boss almost caught me stealing oreos! Fucking oreos! But look sweetie, they're your favorite!-" Ninten interrupted his own tangent with an exasperated groan.

"You're lucky it's just your wing. I don't even know what I'd do if they hit your back, God forbid! Please, I'm begging you, just fucking go next time, I don't want to lose you!"

From the corner of his eye, Ninten watched his boyfriend's head sink into his quivering hands, with palms clasped over his eyes. The sight was enough to make his heart fall into the pit of his stomach like a rock in water. "Claus, I... I-I'm sorry. Fuck. It's okay."

"I just didn't want to go there again," Claus's voice muffled into his palms to somewhat veil the quaking in his words, or the way his voice would trail off like a dying flame. Unsure of what to do, Ninten would carefully extend his free hand to his boyfriend's tensed shoulder. The man flinched at the initial contact, but allowed his gentle touch to linger.

"He would've put me to sleep, Nint. For the stitches. I don't trust him not to... not to..."

Ninten swallowed despite the suffocating dryness of mouth, unsteady hand slowly looping another wad of gauze around Claus's injury. His body was plagued with an unending chill that froze him to his very core. "Not to...?" He replied in a gentle voice.

Oh, how the man wanted to tell everything. How he longed to spill the burdens of his life, along with countless tears, into Ninten's comforting shoulders, breathing his familiar scent in the sharp inhales between shaky sobs. But Claus dreaded that he'd said too much already. As secretive as he was-- as he needed to be-- he always had to halt himself from letting the words pour from him like floodwater from a broken dam.

The mere thought of Ninten being stripped of his treasured individuality, of his memories, his humanity, and ending up stranded in a near-meaningless life like his... he'd rather be despised by the man, if that was what it took, than allow that to happen.

"Not to.. Not to slip up. I'm deathly afraid of surgery." He'd expertly mask his emotions in his words, telling himself that it was all for Ninten's own good, telling himself whatever it took to kwep himself from looking back. His pale hands fell to the blankets he was sitting on and he allowed his fingers to curl tightly around the soft fabric, as if they subconsciously longed to grasp at his boyfriend's shirt.

Ninten simply gave a low hum at first.

"Claus... I'm so sorry. F-For yelling at you. I'm truly sorry." Ninten began in a gentle tone. Claus held his breath. "But still, I promise you'll be alright. He's a doctor for a good reason. From what I hear, a prestigious one at that. People praise the ground he walks on like he's the next Albert Einstein."

"Ah... wait, who?"

Ninten squeaked. A brief wave of panic flashed over his features as he was forced to recall where he was. "Aha, some guy, don't worry about it!" His hand waved dismissively. "My- my point is, he's brilliant. You're in good hands."

Good hands. It took every atom in Claus's body not to loudly refute that statement.

"You and your obscure references," Claus's sentence, against his will, trailed into a long yawn, and he'd lock his fingers together and stretch his arms above his head until he felt a satisfying pop in his shoulders. "Geek."

"Yeah, yeah." Ninten shot the other an amused smile. "Tired, sunshine?"

"Oh? Y-Yeah. I am. It's been one hell of a day." As he brought his arms down, the soldier lazily rubbed his weary eyes. As his panic had faded and awareness slowly took its place, the fact would set in that Ninten had completed wrapped his wound. "Hey, my wing feels a ton better. How's it look?"

"After a few PK lifeups and some basic first aid, not too bad! I'd say it'll be back to normal by tomorrow, but you should still take a bus to work." He reached up from where he'd been working and gave Claus a firm-yet-gentle pat on his upper back. "Speaking of work, it's late. We oughta get to bed."

"Late," Claus mumbled the word back to himself in thought. "God, I-- I hogged up your night, didn't I?"

"You didn't, hun. I've got nothing else going on tonight, with the power being out." Ninten would hold out an index finger and, using his telekinesis, toss Claus a thin, comfortable t-shirt he had folded atop his cluttered desk. It was a slightly-worn black tee with a penguin character on its frontside, a very Ninten choice in clothing, Claus noted.

"Your alien research?" In the middle of taking off his shirt, Claus remarked with a nodding gesture towards some erratic, barely-legible sticky notes Ninten had plastered all over his bedside wall.

"Bah, that junk can wait," Ninten replied, running a hand up through his tangled black hair, which he feared had started to look kind of gross. He felt drenched in sweat, but at the very least he could blame the lack of air circulation.

The redhead pulled Ninten's much-loved penguin shirt over his slim frame, loosely covering his battle-scarred upper body. Ninten's clothes were a little bigger than his, but Claus didn't mind the oversized fit they had on his figure. He'd discover a loose thread towards the end of the left sleeve and begin to fidget by rolling it around between his thumb and index finger.

"Well, I still feel bad. If the power's on in the morning I'll fix us some breakfast before we both head out." Ninten watched attentively as Claus reached two hands up behind his head, then freed his long, pumpkin-colored hair from the confines of the shirt's collar, shaking it out and letting the sea of loose ginger curls fall against his back. It wasn't often that Ninten got to see Claus with his hair down. Was it always that much curlier towards the bottom? Fuck. Ninten was weak.

"Awh!! You don't have to, really! You spoil me, Clausy." Ninten let out a giggle, the kind of high-pitched laugh he only let loose when he couldn't contain his glee. "But-- ah-- speaking of which, I do hope all the stuff in the fridge didn't spoil.."

"Have you opened it?" Claus turned to face his fellow law-breaker and rested his chin on his knuckles, yellowed eyes fixing on Ninten as he blinked to gain his focus in the dimly-lit room

"Absolutely not, but still. It's been off for a while."

"I'll figure it out, love." He cupped his human hand over Ninten's soft cheek, delicately brushing the pad of his thumb against the spot beneath his eye.

"Hah, thank you. You're the best." Ninten gave Claus a peck on his soft lips before the stubborn one could throw the compliment back. The rosy blush on his freckled face combined with the way his eyes seemed to enlarge themselves was priceless to Ninten.

Sharing Ninten's pathetic little bed had become routine for them despite the fact that it clearly lacked the space for two. Not that they minded one bit. After all, it only gave them a beyond cheesy excuse to cuddle up close and act sickeningly sweet to each other, their favorite passtime.

The bedframe gave a barely-audible creak of protest as Ninten would shift his weight to the left, leaning over and to put the dying candleflame out of its misery with one puff of air from his lips; the two were plunged into darkness as the ember wisped away into a thin ribbon of smoke.

"Mmgh, dark-" Claus complained. He aimlessly swiped a hand around in the inky blackness around him until it found Ninten's face, his scraggly little chin stubble making contact with the soldier's palm. Ninten hated how it refused to grow correctly, but Claus adored the way it looked, always holding his chin to carress the little hairs and always remarking how it tickled him between kisses.

"Right here, darling," Ninten locked his fingers, their texture a little rough from work, with the clumsy hand that had been sprawled over the frontside of his face.

Ninten scooted into the little free space next to Claus and snuggled up as close to the taller man as he possibly could, taking the opportunity to rest his head on his partner's chest once he found it. He could hear the soft hums and whirrs of machinery from within; a soothing source of white noise in an otherwise dead silence. As Ninten's warm presence filled the empty space beside him, the commander's arm snaked its way around his shoulder.

After Ninten closed his eyes for slumber, he felt Claus shift to rest his chin atop his fluffy mess of hair. He only wished that he could've showered before this. It wasn't too bad, since they both stunk of sweat, but it always embarrassed him whenever Claus would witness him not at peak performance.

"Night, Clausy."

"G'night, Nint. Love you."

"Love you too."

"... Hey, Nint?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you really upset about the oreos? Or was that just an in-the-moment thing?"

"I love oreos, you know I do. But I love you so much more. I just wanna see you safe, is all."

His gaze lifted from Claus's face to the mess of Post-Its on his wall, and he'd give himself a mental reminder to purchase more.

"Noted... I'm sorry. I'll try to be more cafeful from here on out, okay? And I'll... I'll start going to the doctor, too."

"That makes me really happy. Thank you."

The exchange was ended with a kiss planted on the top of Ninten's gross, smelly head. His face grew hot. How dare he.

There the two lovers settled into bed, in a loose-yet loving embrace, with each one's frame nestled comfortably into the other's; they'd learned all of the best ways to sleep on this mattress without needing to shove each other off or battle for space in their sleep. Claus was already drifting off to a much-needed peaceful slumber, one that Ninten wouldn't dare take from him despite the horde of questions clawing at his mind. He pondered that little lie he'd played along with. Regarding the government's top scientist.

'Scared he'll slip up', yeah, right... Andonuts, huh? I'll do some digging on the name. I swore I've heard it floating around before. Way back in the 80s, even. Does one of his ancestors work for the government?- Unless...

Ninten's thoughts drew on.

His gaze drifted up from Claus's face to the scattered stacks of Post-Its tacked to his bedroom wall, giving himself a mental reminder to purchase more.

rereading an hour later: i noticed a fUCKING MISTAKE WHERE tHE LAST LINE FROM THE FANFIC WAS RANDOMLY MOVED TO AN EARLIER SPOT. WHAT THE FUCK. HOW DOES THAT HAPPEN. IM LIVID. anyways i fixed it

[oops-ibrokereality]

Probably a controversial opinion but I really enjoyed season 19

[fistfuloflightning]

“What is this?” Finrod examined the ring his wife had just slid onto his finger. His brows rose at the design. “…Snakes and flowers?” he asked. “Is this us?”

“What do you think? I’m not one for sentimentality. It’s just the symbol of your House.” Curufin’s flat voice was reassuring. She bent her head over his hand, fingers pointing out details as she explained. “—the eyes are those jewels Father gave you as a wedding gift you never knew what to do with, and the silver-mithril alloy for the base was—”

He watched her face as she spoke, more talkative than her wont, a rather delicate flush to her cheeks that most wouldn’t even notice. But he noticed. He always noticed.

Curufin stuttered to a halt when the ringed hand rose to cup her cheek. “Was this what you were working on for so long?” Finrod asked softly. “What you were acting so secretive about?”

Her lips pressed tight but her intense eyes belied the affection she had poured into this work of love.

“I will cherish it.” Finrod caught her chin and kissed her soundly. “It was a gift from you. Therefore, I will keep it with me always.”