#but my memories of the anime are all vague and blurry so :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

intrepidacious · 2 months ago

Text

about that night (the bugs and the dirt)

summary: You never talk about that night, and Bucky never asks. Even though he can't help but suspect something is wrong.

pairing: bucky barnes x witch!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: past character death and vague mentions of blood (yk, spooky stuff); there's no actual dialogue in this and the characters are worse for it 💛 please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: it only took me three years but i finally managed to finish a fic in time for halloween 😌🎃 i genuinely don't know how to describe the vibes of this except buffy the vampire slayer season six meets "if lisa frankenstein was a drama" meets hozier's like real people do. have fun 🫶🏼

masterlist | read on ao3

Something’s wrong.

Something’s been wrong for a while, but Bucky can’t quite put his finger on it. It’s a fragile thing, this knowledge, this certainty, lingering at the back of his mind like the dim light of a forgotten lamp, shimmering, seeping through the cracks.

Whenever he asks you, you tell him that everything is fine, and he wants to believe you, desperately. You wouldn’t lie to him, you with your luminous eyes and your soft smile. Deceptions would taste foul on your lips.

But something’s wrong.

It’s all wrong.

He’s always been too smart for his own good, and he’s going to find out, you know he will, but that’s precisely why you can’t let him. He’s going to know how far you’ve fallen, and he’s going to despise you for it.

So he forgets.

Sometimes, when he wakes up, his tongue is heavy with bile and dirt, his eyes crusted shut with something worse than bad dreams. Sometimes, when he listens closely, he can hear the air humming with lost hymns that are not from this earth.

Maybe he should’ve gotten used to that, by now; your walls have always had ears and mouths and eyes, after all. That’s the price for loving a witch, you’d say, back in the days when your smiles came easy. Wherever you are, you’re never alone.

It’s different than he remembers, though, even through the cracked and blurry pictures of his memories, his foggy mind, but he can’t put his finger on why. Darker. Colder. Damp. It’s like something has left.

Doubt follows his every waking hour, even more so when he tries to think of that night.

That night.

Oh, that night.

The taste of blood on your lips when you kissed him, desperately, like you hadn’t seen him in months. The muddy streaks on your arms when he looked at you in the pale moonlight, the scrape of dirt underneath your fingernails. It had been raining. You smelt like pain.

What had you been digging?

He needs to forget about that night and what it actually was you’d dug up, then. You’d told him you’d had to bury an animal that had gotten lost and died in the garden, and it was a half-truth even by the most generous account.

Dark, evil things happened that night, and no matter their intent, you were the sum of them.

You’d sacrificed a lamb to dig up a wolf.

He doesn’t remember your answer now, but it must’ve been enough for him, then. It must have been.

So he doesn’t ask again, no matter how hard uncertainty tugs on his lungs.

On that old, familiar path, he follows you home and feels like a stranger.

The blood itself was the easiest to wash off, and maybe that was the worst part. In the human world, crime rarely disappeared without a trace, but magic always left its mark.

You remember tumbling on your way back, almost tripping over your doorstep, a sudden pulse of energy pulling the breath from your lungs. These were your own four walls, the ones you’d blessed yourself, tended to and looked after for years, and they seemed to recoil.

Bucky caught your arm without even looking, catching you like he always had, and you crossed the threshold together. You looked at him, then, for the first time since the graveyard. You could feel his pulse under your grip, his heartbeat strong and loud enough to be mistaken for your own, but his gaze so uncertain, like he wasn’t sure he actually belonged here.

With you.

You made up your mind right then and there. He could never know.

You stir your tea as you always do, and you’ve set out his cup on the kitchen table. Alpine paws at it before he can pick it up, a fierce growl accompanying the sound of smashing porcelain.

She’s been angry with both of you, and he doesn’t know why. She keeps hissing at him, and she refuses to sit on your lap when you study your books next to the fireplace like she always used to. Like she’s punishing you in whatever little way she can for a crime he doesn’t understand.

You sigh, and you repair the cup with a flick of your wrist, and then you don’t reach out to pet that spot behind Alpine’s ears.

It’s little things like that.

And it’s your tired eyes.

Of course, no one else can know either; it’s not a risk you’re willing to take.

If Bucky notices the phone’s been unplugged all this time, he’s never said a word. He’s never been much for talking, anyway, but he does it even less so these days. You’ve both turned quiet around each other, but the only thing that matters is that you’re both still here.

Even now, you can feel the dark powers humming through your veins, just like you could that night. You hear the whispers calling out your name and see the shadows at the very periphery of your vision. They follow you into your dreams until you give up on them, slipping out of the warm embrace of your bed to hunch over the tome again, again, just a little more.

Perhaps you should worry about repercussions, but what for? After all, everything you did that night, you did out of love.

Everything you’ve done, you’ve done for him.

Sometimes, he doesn’t notice them for a very long time, and then it hits him all over again just how exhausted you look. When he wakes up in the middle of the night, your side of the bed is empty and the roof of his mouth tastes like ash and decay. In those moments, he thinks he might still be dreaming; his bones are heavy and cold and unyielding, and he lies there like something forgotten, and all of his thoughts revolve around you.

He’s so worried about you.

He wants to ask if it’s something he’s done. He wants to know if he can make it better, make you smile again like you always did at the sight of him, every time. But he’s afraid of the answer.

You’ve not been yourself and you know it, but at this point, you feel unable to stop it. It’s too late, anyway. The dead already walk to earth, and you’re the one to blame. You’re the one to thank.

Sometimes, the thought does hit you that there’s something a little wrong with you these days. But then he looks at you and he smiles, and you’re young and foolish and in love all over again, that weight of all those weeks of screaming and crying lifted with every glance, every touch, every kiss.

This, the uncertainty, is the worst part of it. It becomes his closest companion, and it only lifts slightly when you return to him, if only for a moment. When you do smile, when you put your hands around his neck and kiss him and he can feel real again, feel like himself again.

He barely notices that you will only look him in the eye when it’s dark, when he can lose himself in your touch, foreheads pressed together, breaths heavy and mingling, the only real creatures in the world. The sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

Maybe you are wrong. Maybe you are wicked and evil and rotten to the core, and maybe there’ll be hell to pay for it yet.

But you’re not sorry.

hearing hozier perform "like real people do" as a duet with victoria canal changed lives y'all

thank you for reading!! if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!! also, comments are trick or treats that last all year long. just saying 💛

oh, before we leave, here's an extra shoutout to @brandycranby for telling me this was fun and the perfect length. i accidentally made it longer again. love u 🫶🏼

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #about that night (the bugs and the dirt)

127 notes · View notes

deathbxnny · 4 months ago

Note

Soo do you remember when Boothill came out, so many people (me included) compared him to Arlechinno and say that he’s “genderbent Arlechinno” despite being literally the opposite of her?

Can i request Boothill with an Arlechinno!reader as a twin sibling?

Context:

Boothill and the reader are twins and they are the absolute opposites despite they’re similar appearances. One is loud and brash while the other is quiet and stoic, one is a normal kid while the other is for some reason cursed? No one in their little family knew why or how the reader have a curse but there wasnt much they can really do about it. Regardless, Boothill and the reader are as thick as thieves, never seen without the other. But then the IPC came and blew up their planet which finally seperated the two twins. The reader somehow survived bc of their curse but now they sometimes glitch (like how Arle does in her idle animation). Now the reader nor Boothill knows that the other survived for a while but then they bumped into each other and you can take the reins from here

Hope you have a lovely day/night!

(Somehow im in a Boothill fever.. i blame Nicholas (DanHeng’s VA) for his damn Boothill song)

- Flower Anon 🌸

Oooh, I really love this idea, Flower Anon!! I have to admit, though, that I struggled writing this so bad, so I'm sorry if it turned out horribly.

Thank you otherwise for your request and sorry it took so long!!<3

Content: Platonic relationships, twin sibling reader, angst, vague mentions of Boothills past, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

The summer we died in. (Boothill x Twin!Reader)

"If I didn't know yer so well, I would've maybe been shocked to see you alive." Your brother's southern drawl shook memories awake in your mind. Memories that had been left slumbering in the fields of your old home, under the warm sun and in the tall grass. And yet... you didn't feel anything.

"... I suppose I could say the same thing about you -" "-Boothill. That's the name now." You hum dully as you crossed your arms and turned your head away from the confused Trailblazer in front of you to look at him. You had come to Penacony for business, or rather revenge, only to be dragged into its mess on accident. You therefore didn't expect to see the remnants of your formerly dead brother standing before you.

But could you even consider him alive in the state he was in now? A blurry image of what he looked like once came to mind, yet melted away just as fast. You didn't actually remember how he looked like anymore.

"Boothill then."

Silence filled the air, the tension thick and suffocating, yet neither of your gazes faltered. You just... didn't know what to say. There was a time in which you'd childishly dream of seeing him again, the way you'd throw yourself into his arms and then return with him to your families farmhouse. You'd act like nothing happened, become the siblings again that you always were.

But the realisation that it was all just that, a dream, made you press your lips together in the near... disappointment? You should've known better than to become so disillusioned from everything, and yet the reality still hurt you deep, deep down, under the endless layers of your curse.

"Uhm... my apologies, but you know eachother?" Robin asked carefully, seemingly saying exactly what your other companions had been thinking. Your gaze thoughtfully shifted around the twisted yet nostalgic landscape of the dreamscape, not knowing how to answer. You knew eachother once. But now? You weren't sure. You had never met "Boothill". And your brother, therefore remains dead.

Said man scratched his head awkwardly. "Uh yeah, that's my twin -" "-Reallyyy??? You guys don't look nor act alike at all!" March gasped out, only to be quickly hushed by Dan Heng and the Trailblazer. "... Hah, did ya hear that? Things never change!" Boothill grinned at you the way he used to, another memory of pranks and mischief under the moonlight filling your head again, which you just waved away. "Some things don't. But most do... How did you make it?" "Always so straight to the point." Your brother's grin widened as his relief and excitement began seeping through at last. His shoulders relaxed, eyes crinkling with a familiar spark you found yourself nearly stepping away from.

"But let's just say I'm after the same man you are." Ofcourse he'd know exactly what you were in Penacony for. You were one in the same when it came to your wrath. You wanted revenge for your lost family and for eachother, unknowing of the others' fate beyond death. You would've found it funny if you could have felt anything at all.

"Right." You didn't want to know more than that yet. "How'd you get in? Doubt you swam in that lil' pool all the way here." He hummed, which made you tilt your head. Why was he so casual? Why was he acting like neither of you had died? That both of you were together all along throughout the years you missed? It was bizarre and yet so awfully fitting. "... Remember the curse?" You held up a clawed hand that glitched through the force of the dreamscape. You couldn't remember what made you gain this ability, having woken up this way after the catastrophe. But it came in handy in moments like these.

Robin raised a hand to her chin. "You... were able to bypass the dreamscape and just enter it?" "Yes." You replied, and Boothill chuckled at that. "Wish you got that sweet ability sooner. Would've helped us out lots during the ol' days." You stared ahead, nearly through him. Was he trying to cope with your appearance before him this way? Was he trying to deflect the realisation that he wasn't totally alone after all? You didn't know what to think.

"... Let's go together. I overheard your part of the plan from the Trailblazer, and time is running out. If we want to defeat Mr. Sunday, then we have to get going." You said, voice as intimidating and cold as it used to be. It seemed to snap everyone out of their confused daze as they proceeded with the plan. Boothill met your gaze amongst the general commotion of your companions quickly speaking over eachother before taking their own respective leaves.

You stood there, seemingly stuck on how to proceed, which felt so out of character for you. You were used to ordering people around, intimidating them, and demanding the near impossible. But here you were now, speechless and hesitant. Did this perhaps hit you harder than previously expected? Boothill just tipped his hat and led the way automatically, another memory flickering of him doing the same during your nightly pranks. You'd sneak out and hop over the wooden fence surrounding your home to bother your old, grumpy neighbor. Those days were always so warm, the summer heat seeping into the night that began to cool off on your skins.

Those days never seemed to end. It was never cold. Always warm, scorching warm. Burning, flames, smoke filling your lungs and then total destruction.

"-Remember that day? The last one." Yes, you did. It's all you thought about during your travels. It's what fueled your revenge. You said nothing in reply, but he didn't mind. "It was warm. Last day of summer they said but it didn't feel like it to us." The false night sky of the dreamscape stretched out over the extravagant city. You looked down on the dreamers who decided to live a lie rather than face reality. There was a time in which you'd find them pathetic, but now you see yourself in their crowd, gazing right up at you with an equally as unreadable face.

"It was the summer we died in. So I guess they were right. It was our last day." He loaded his gun and raised it to the sky, his body turned away from you. The bright lights below illuminated his sides, hair flowing in the wind whilst the hat covered his eyes. It was a foreign image, one you couldn't recognize. "Why... are you like this?" You asked after a moment of consideration, but what you really meant was why he didn't even feel affected by you being alive all along.

Yet then again... you didn't know if you felt anything either.

Despite your differences, you were the same deep down, he was right there too. And deep down, you realized too late that you weren't the same you used to be either. Death had taken you both. You weren't siblings here. You weren't related at all. The only thing connecting you was his shadow you stood in. But even that did little to shake you physically.

"Because it doesn't matter anymore who died that summer." He shot the flare into the air, hundreds of lights beginning to fill the night sky soon after. He looked back at you with a wild, unrestrained grin. "What matters is that we get the revenge we need for the dead, ain't that right? That's something your serious behind would say, at least."

You couldn't help but dully chuckle then. It was barely heard, so weak he could've nearly missed it, but he didn't. Stepping up next to him, out of his shadow, you gave him the faintest smile.

"You're right, Boothill... Let's get revenge for those who died that summer."

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr boothill x reader #hsr boothill #boothill x reader #boothill

111 notes · View notes

totallynotlx · 1 year ago

Text

Benefactor

A/N: In honor of my precious, beloved boys. You both deserved the world but they did you so wrong. Also yes, I hurt myself writing this thankssssss

Tags: Dad!Gojo Agenda, a bit of fluff I guess?, Hurt / No Comfort coz I am hurting rn

Word Count: 745

Benefactor

It's the word that Megumi would always associate Gojo with. He wasn't particularly fond of the man, but he doesn't despise him either... not always anyway. He owes him that much, at least. The man had no business adopting two kids when he was just sixteen. But he did it. Sure, he wasn't the perfect role model, but he remembers how much he cared for them.

He made the effort to celebrate his and Tsumiki's birthdays the first year he took them in. Christmas was extravagant, too. That's where Megumi discovered his disgusting addiction to sweets. The table was full of it. Some of which he and Tsumiki haven't tried before. Tsumiki was ecstatic, with bits of icing on her cheek as she ate, while Megumi was more content with the peppermint candy canes. He also made sure they had presents.

When school came around, Gojo took care of everything. He was still too young to enter Jujutsu High, so he ensured they had a proper education. He made sure they had everything, from their needs to their wants.

"He's weird. But he's not a bad adult." He remembers Tsumiki's words all those years ago after Gojo took them in. Megumi would argue that she shouldn't be too trusting since it may still be a political ploy, but it never happened.

Gojo genuinely did care for them. He made Tsumiki laugh. When he found out they comforted him, he gave Megumi stuffed animals that resembled his curse techniques. He vaguely remembers him tucking them both to bed when they fell asleep on the couch. He made sure they had a roof over their heads. He ensured Megumi pursued his other interests that didn't revolve around jujutsu sorcery. And even though Megumi was mature for his age, he tried his best to give him a sense of a normal childhood. Even when he became such a rebellious teen, Gojo was there, always patient with the same stupid grin. He didn't reprimand him as Tsumiki did, but he tried to guide him in his own way. The training sessions would be longer, harder even, but he never shouted at him, was never mad at him, or was never frustrated with him.

"You have the potential to be on par with me, Megumi." Gojo's words echoed in his mind, crystal clear. "So you gotta keep a level head."

Thoughts began to swirl endlessly in his clouded mind as the memory faded. It was like almost seeing a ghost, always flitting through, never materializing. Images came and went like his own shallow breathing. It was getting harder to breathe. His chest felt like it was getting constricted by some unknown force, and he felt hot all over.

He recognizes the sensation. Pain.

Subconsciously, Megumi grits his teeth, his nails digging into the inside of his palm. The dull sensation becomes more and more apparent with each second. His head was throbbing, and his vision blurred for a moment.

Take a good look, brat.

The voice that invaded his mind was unwelcome and brash. Slowly, the darkness morphs into a blurry scenery, like his eyes are camera lenses trying to focus on a subject. And that subject is at his feet.

He can make out the gray concrete now, rough and cracked as someone laid down on it.

Why is someone lying on the concrete?

Megumi hears a sharp intake of breath, eyes trying their best to focus on the source of the sound. Red liquid pooled on the ground. Blood. That's when he notices a familiar white tousled hair. Albeit he doesn't see it often, he grew up seeing him casually wearing his hair down around both of them siblings. His senses were sharper now. His vision finally focuses on the figure on the ground.

Benefactor.

It's that one word that Megumi would always use to describe Gojo to everyone if asked about their relationship. But right now, he can barely remember the word.

"Gojo-sensei..?" His words were a mere whisper. Gojo only blinks away the tears in his eyes in response, eyes slowly losing their luminescent blue luster. Warm streaks drip down from Megumi's eyes. Tears.

"Dad?"

A faint smile appears on Gojo's lips, and with one final blink, he loses the life behind those signature blue eyes of his, and silence descends upon them both. It was a grief so great that Megumi could only stand there in silence, mourning the only father he ever knew.

Inspired by this tweet that shared this very hurtful tiktok :')

#gojo satoru #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro tsumiki #fushigojo family #fushigojo #dad!gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #my prompts #﹒◌﹒benefactor﹒✧﹒#i cried while writing this #gege when i catch you gege #my beloved boys deserved so much more #jjk angst #jjk drabbles #jjk spoilers

223 notes · View notes

yurisorcerer · 7 months ago

Text

Holy shit that was fucking incredible.

Warning: major hyped-up ramble session below.

The scheduling of the concert being switched around gives TogeToge a leg up to hopefully make an even bigger first impression at their first festival. Things seem to be going well for them, for once! Let's see if that lasts.

In the leadup to the festival, with Nina and Momoka actually doing pretty much fine for once, the show refocuses on its other three characters for a little while, spotlighting Subaru and how she's still hiding her involvement with the band from her overbearing grandmother, and then moving over to Tomo and Rupa, whose relationship---played to a tasteful tee, neither over- or under-explained---provides a source of strength for the both of them in the face of the loss of their respective families. Physically in Rupa's case, emotionally in Tomo's. Subaru seemingly resolves things with her grandma later in the episode, but Tomo and Rupa's issues aren't so easily packed away. I wouldn't be surprised if the show touches on them one more time before it ends.

Oh hey, Mine's back!

In general the atmosphere of the pre-show buildup reminds me a bit of the pre-concert scenes from Oshi no Ko, although in that show there's a different and more cynical context at play to the upbeat, nervy anticipation on display here.

Oh my god, it's the punk girl from episode one. (Kyouko, apparently.) There feels like a bit of symbolism in how even she's a fan of TogeToge now.

Momoka taking them all to the big main stage to see Diamond Dust play before their own show is gutsy. And at that, we get our rewind all the way back to Nina's confrontation with DD's current lead singer when they were both students. And, as has been previously implied a few times, friends! We still don't precisely know what their falling out was about, as Pink's remark to Nina where she tells her to stop "playing the tragic heroine" are awfully vague. Regardless, DD's performance itself is pretty good, although one gets the sense they're sort of being set up to fail here from a meta perspective. Their little show of rivalry here is admirable, but they aren't the band we've been following this entire time. (And while they sound fine, if we're being honest, they'd be rinsed not just by TogeToge but by most protagonist girl bands from these sorts of anime. Then again, maybe this is the intended reaction, and we're supposed to be feeling some amount of fannish partisanship.)

Rupa's just here for the drama as usual, what a queen.

During the sound check Subaru plays a pretty nice little break beat, and Rupa gets to show off her bass licks.

TogeToge also unveil their new looks here and all of them look genuinely fucking fantastic. Rupa's weird military uniform thing with the goggles, Subaru's pinstriped suit(?!), Nina's underdye and badass long shirt, Tomo's almost pixellated-looking hair bow accessory, Momoka's arm bands. Honestly just a killer visual presentation both in- and out-of-universe.

When the time comes to take the stage, they absolutely kill it. At the end of the day, this is an anime, so of course, Girls Band Cry deploys absolutely every single visual trick it can think of to really sell the performance that serves as the climax of this episode. "Void & Catharsis", the song they play, is a, if you'll pardon the pun, rock solid alternative number with a surprisingly heavy low-end that serves as a bed for Nina's incisive, comet-like vocals. (Also it has what I'm pretty sure is a breakdown??? I'm not a heavy metal expert, but what the fuck.) The show spins out into full music video mode here, taking a page from the otherwise very different Love Live series, as the stage blends into a blurry stitching-together of idealized, crystalized memories; defiance, lies, love, loss. It is perhaps the single most arresting moment in a music anime to air this year. I ended up replaying the entire thing from the start of the song onward, twice. I can't help myself; TogeToge have charisma. Every single one of them sheds tears during their part of the music video, making this episode something of a sideways title-drop.

The single most compelling visual element though has nothing to do with all the crazy camera tricks, overlays, flashbacks, anything like that, though. It's Nina herself. In what I can only describe as an absolute triumph of CGI in anime as a form, this little sixteen year old pipsqueak comes off as a complete and total superstar. She stomps angrily from one end of the stage to the other with her long shirt drooping and billowing dramatically, she grips her head in anger as she sings like the words are being physically ripped out of her throat, she headbangs, she pumps her fist and spins around to egg her own band on, she glares at the audience like she's trying to kill them---maybe Diamond Dust specifically, who are also watching---with her mind, she does weird shit with her hands and gestures around like a rapper. It's mesmerizing. Clearly the result of a ton of love not just for animation as an art form but for concerts as a form of performance. The entire thing is just end to end nuts, and this moment, regardless of what came before it or comes after it, completely validates Girls Band Cry as an artistic endeavor. If the entire rest of the show were to somehow go missing, removed from reality with a surgeon's knife, this performance alone would make the undeniable case that it deserved to exist.

Nina isn't even my favorite *character* in this show. But good god she's great here. I'm just honestly stunned.

As for GBC itself, there is only one real problem. There are still two episodes of this anime left. It's possible I'm just sitting in a sort of concertgoers' afterglow at the moment, but I kind of can't imagine what else the show could really do from here. How do you top that?

Nonetheless, Girls Band Cry wants to try, and that ambition is admirable.

#Girls Band Cry #nina iseri #yurisorcerer talks about media

14 notes · View notes

braveclementine · 6 months ago

Text

On the Spaceship

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Marvel characters or locations. However, I do own my OC Elizabeth Lightwood. I do not condone any copying of this.

"In all the time I've served Thanos, I have never failed him. If I were to reach our rendezvous on Titan with the Time Stone still attached to your vaguely irritating person, there would be judgment."

The needles that were around him, slowly pierced him. Stephen flinched, holding back his cries of pain. He brought up the image of Sam laughing in his head, focusing on that memory only. He was doing all of this for Sam.

"Give me. . . the stone."

Stephen could feel his entire body vibrating in pain. The needle in his cheek was the most painful, feeling like it was going to explode. Sam's face was starting to become blurry. He need to hold on.

If only for Sam.

🎃 ::::: 🧡 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🧡 ::::: 🎃

Tony leaned over the edge to see far below the wizard was being tortured. Something tapped him on the arm and he immediately reacted, pointing his blaster at the floating red cloak in the air. It held up its end flaps, almost in a surrendering gesture to show it was harmless.

"Wow, you're a seriously loyal piece of outerwear, aren't you?" Tony asked, heart beating a million miles an hour, but slowing. It started to speed right back up again though, when another voice suddenly cut in.

"Yeah, uh, speaking of loyalty." He watched the spider kid drop from the ceiling, his mask coming off.

"What the-"

"I know what you're gonna say."

"You should not be here!"

"I was gonna go home-"

"I don't wanna hear it."

"But it was such a long way down and I just thought about you on the way-"

"-and now I got to hear about it."

"-and kinda stuck to the side of the ship. And this suit is ridiculously intuitive, by the way-"

"Damn it."

"-So if anything, it's kinda your fault that I'm here."

"What did you just say?"

"I-I take that back." He said very quickly. "And now, I'm here in space."

"Yeah, right where I didn't want you to be." He stepped right up to the kid and said quietly. "This isn't Coney Island, this isn't a field trip. This is a one-way ticket. You hear me? Don't pretend you thought this through."

"No, I did think this through."

"You could not have possibly thought this through."

"You can't be a friendly neighborhood Spider- man if there's no neighborhood." There was a pause where they stared at each other and then he said, "Okay, that didn't really make sense, but you know why I'm trying to say."

Tony sighed. "Come on. We got a situation." They walked to the edge and he pointed, "See him down there? He's in trouble. What's your plan? Go."

"Um. . . Okay, okay Um. . . Okay. Did you ever see this really old movie, Aliens?"

🎃 ::::: 🧡 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🧡 ::::: 🎃

Stephen cried out in pain. It wasn't so much seeing Sam's face as a human now, anymore. It was now when he had met Sam, when he had been a stoat. It had been so strange, turning into a creature like a stoat. Sam had found him just adorable.

Stephen found he had loved the affection and pets that Sam had given him, after he learned to accept the care. It had been hard at first, always thinking he was the most dominant, the smartest, all of it. But maybe he'd needed it, maybe that was why he had been the animal. To tone his ego down a little bit.

He loved Sam. So much. And if he didn't get to see him after this, at least he would be safe. Sam would be safe.

"Painful, aren't they? They were originally designed for microsurgery. And any one of them-" He paused and Stephen saw Iron Man standing behind him, fully equipped in his suit and blasters pointed at the alien, "Could end your friends life in an instant."

"I gotta tell you he's not really my friend." Tony said and Stephen fought the urge to roll his eyes, even with the pain he was in. "Saving his life is more of a professional courtesy."

"You've saved nothing." The alien said, calling up a box behind him to throw at Stark. "Your powers are inconsequential compared to mine."

"Yeah, but the kids seen more movies." Tony said.

Kid? What kid?

Stark shot the blaster at the spaceship, which ripped the alien out. Consequentially, it ripped Stephen out too. His cape grabbed his arm, but couldn't keep the grip. He felt something grab him from behind and then went out into space. His breath caught in his throat and then jolted before he heard someone shout, "Yes! Wait, what are those!"

Then he was being pulled inside again, and he landed harshly on metal. He wasn't even up on his feet when he heard a young, teenage voice said, "Hey, we haven't officially met." And then, "Cool."

"Gotta turn this ship around." Stephen muttered, pushing to his feet, his cloak settling on his shoulders.

"Yeah, now he wants to run. Great plan." Stark snipped as he walked by.

"No, I want to protect the stone." Stephen said. He could feel blood running down his face and knew Sam was going to kill him when he got home.

"And I want you to thank me." Stark responded. "Now, go ahead, I'm listening."

God, all of the advice that Y/N had given Sam on how to deal with egotistical dickheads really was true experience.

"For what? Nearly blasting me into space?"

"Who just saved your magical ass? Me!"

"I seriously don't know how you fit your head into that helmet." Stephen responded.

"Admit it, you should have ducked out when I told you to." Stark snapped. "I tried to bench you. You refused."

"Unlike everyone else in your life, I don't work for you." Stephen snarked.

"And due to that fact, we're now in a flying doughnut billions of miles from Earth with no backup."

"I'm backup." The kid said, raising a hand.

"No, you're a stowaway." Stark responded. "The adults are talking."

"I'm sorry. I'm confused as to the relationship here. What is he, your ward?"

"No." The kid said. "I'm Peter, by the way."

"Doctor Strange." Stephen responded, not wanting to bring any anger out on the kid. It wasn't his fault. Although he also knew that Stark probably just wanted to get home to his wife and two kids. Although Stephen was also still pissed that Tony was the reason Sam was on the run.

"Oh, you're using our made-up names. Um. . . I'm Spider- man then."

"This ship is self-correcting its course. It's on autopilot." Stark said from up front.

"Can we control it." Stephen asked, not really wanting to end up at the location it was going for. "Fly us home?" When Stark didn't answer, Stephen barked, "Stark?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you get us home?"

"Yeah, I heard you. I'm thinking I'm not so sure we should." Stark finally said.

"Under no circumstances can we bring the Time Stone to Thanos." Stephen growled through his teeth. "I don't think you quite understand what's at stake here."

"What? No. It's you who doesn't understand, that Thanos has been inside my head for six years. Since he sent an army to New York and now he's back." He was inches from Stephens face, spitting mad but Stephen didn't move an inch. "And I don't know what to do. So I'm not so sure if it's a better plan to fight him on our turf or his, but you saw, what they did, what they can do. At least on his turf he's not expecting it. So I say we take the fight to him. Doctor. Do you concur?"

Stephen felt a rush of emotions towards Stark. There was still anger over making Sam run and hide. But there was an admiration there on his thinking, and also a small rush of affection towards the first bit. Or perhaps not necessarily affection more. . . leniency?

"All right, Stark. We go to him. But you have to understand, if it comes to saving you or the kid or the Time Stone, I will not hesitate to let either of you die." Stephen said slowly and firmly. "I can't, because the universe depends on it."

"Nice. Good, moral compass." Stark responded, patting him on the arm, though Stephen could see the pain in the eyes as he moved away, his fingers touching his wrist where Y/N's animal name would've been. "We're straight." Stephen watched him walk away with his eyes. "All right, kid." He touched both his shoulders, "You're an Avenger now."

🎃 ::::: 🧡 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🧡 ::::: 🎃

Tony and Stephen had been standing at the front of the ship for a while. Tony was staring at a photo of him, Y/N, Everleigh, and Arlo. It was a new picture, only taken a few weeks ago. Professional pictures done on the Avengers Compound since Y/N couldn't leave.

It was an old fashioned thing to do, carry a photo of your family around. One that you could actually touch. One that if it was bent or folded over and over would crease. But he treasured it. And now he was glad that he had it.

He noticed then, that in the very back he had photos of some of the Avengers. He had never been sure why he hadn't tossed them, but something stopped him every time. He glanced over at the wizard and sighed a little, quickly flipping through them.

With the photograph face down, he held it out without looking at the wizard. When Stephen took it, he walked forwards to see that they were almost touching down on the planet.

"Hey, what's happening?" The kid asked.

Tony turned to see the kid and saw Stephen looking down at the photo. "I think we're here." Stephen said, tucking the photo into his pocket.

"I don't think this rig has a self-parking function." Tony said, walking back and looking at Peter, "Get your hand inside the steering gimbal. Close those around it." He closed it around his own arm, getting ready, bracing himself.

"You understand?"

"Yep, I got it."

"This was meant for one big guy, so we gotta move at the same time."

"Okay, okay. Ready." They neared what look like a big star. "We might want to turn. Turn! Turn! Turn! Turn! Turn!" Peter repeated frantically over and over.

Tony closed his Iron man suit around him to help him out and the kid let the entire Spider-man suit close around him. Orange shield appeared around all of them as the wizard protected them, the ship coming apart around them.

"You all right?" Stephen asked, helping Tony to his feet.

"That was close." Was all he said. "I owe you one."

Peter came down from the ceiling, hanging upside down, "Let me just say, if aliens wind up implanting eggs in my chest or something and I eat one of you, I'm sorry."

"I do not want another single pop culture reference out of you for the rest of the trip. You understand?" Tony asked, not wanting to think about aliens planting eggs in anyone at all.

"I'm trying to say that something is coming." Peter said, pointing his thumb behind him.

Well, maybe that's all he should have said.

Something suddenly landed by their feet, exploding. Tony went flying, as well as the wizard.

Tony flew around as another guy flew around. He tossed him off of him, but he pressed a button, an electrode attaching Tony to a piece of the ship. He grunted, trying to push off it. Tony finally managed to get off, planting his foot on another alien man with red lines on his chest.

"Everybody stay where you are. Chill the eff out." The man who had been flying said, his blaster pointed straight at Peter's head, his arms tied together. The man let his helmet down to show that he looked like a rather normal human being, "I'm gonna ask you this one time. Where is Gamora?"

"Yeah. I'll do you one better." Tony said frantically, also letting his helmet come down, "Who's Gamora?"

"I'll do you one better." The man below his foot grunted, "Why is Gamora?"

"Tell me where the girl is or I swear to you I'm gonna French fry this little freak."

"Let's do it. You shoot my guy and I'll blast him. Let's go!" Tony shouted angrily.

"Do it, Quill! I can take it!" The guy below his blaster shouted.

"No, he can't take it!" The strange alien girl with feelers on her head, tied up by Peter's ropes shouted.

"She's right. You can't." Stephen said, almost in a bored tone.

"Oh Yeah? You don't wanna tell me where she is? That's fine. I'll kill all three of you and I'll beat it out of Thanos myself. Starting with you."

"Wait, what, Thanos?" Stephen asked quickly. "All right, let me ask you this one time. What master do you serve?"

"What master do I serve? What am I supposed to say, 'Jesus'?" The Quill guy taunted.

"You're from Earth?" Tony asked.

"I'm not from Earth. I'm from Missouri." Quill said stupidly.

"Yeah, that's on Earth dipshit." Tony responded. "What are you hassling us for?"

"So you're not with Thanos?" Peter asked, letting his mask come down too.

Quil sounded disgusted as he answered, "With Thanos? No, I'm here to kill Thanos." He lowered his gun a little bit. "He took my girl. Wait, who are you?"

"We're the Avengers man." Peter said.

"Oh! You're the ones Thor told us about." The creepy insect girl said.

"You know Thor?" Tony asked.

"Yeah. Tall guy, not that good looking, needed saving." Quil answered.

Needed saving. . . well if Thanos had blasted the ship apart, yeah he probably had needed saving. As for the good looking part. . . well Quil was probably just jealous because he wasn't much of a looker, in Tony's opinion.

"Where is he now?" Stephen asked.

🎃 ::::: 🧡 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 🧡 ::::: 🎃

"The hell happened to this planet?" The guy, known as Peter Quil or Starlord, asked as they all stepped off the ship and onto the actual planet. "It's eight degrees off its axis. Gravitational pull is all over the place."

"Yeah, we got one advantage. He's coming to us." Tony muttered, looking around. "We'll use it. All right, I have a plan." He was dismayed when he turned around and saw insect girl- Mantis fittingly enough- jumping up and down in a pocket of less gravity. "Or at least the beginnings of one. It's pretty simple. We draw him in, pin him down, get what we need. Definitely don't want to dance with this guy. We just want the gauntlet." He spun around, "Are you yawning?"

Drax was indeed yawning and Tony went off on his rant, "In the middle of this, while I'm breaking it down? Huh? Did you hear what I said?"

"I stopped listening after you said, 'we need a plan'." Drax said calmly.

"Okay, Mr. Clean is on his own page." Tony sighed, looking back at Starlord.

"See, 'not winging it' isn't really what they do." Quil explained.

"Um, what exactly is it, that they do?" Peter asked quickly.

"Kick names, take ass." Mantis replied.

Drax agreed with her.

Tony sighed. There were a lot of things that he could say, but quite frankly, he didn't want to waste the energy. He just wanted to finish this, kill the stupid bastard, and get home to his family. Maybe saving the universe would get Y/N off house arrest and they could go out to an amusement park or something.

"All right, just get over here please. Mr. Lord, can you get your folks to circle up?"

"'Mr. Lord'. Star-Lord is fine." Quil answered calmly. He nodded his head so Drax and Mantis came forwards. Peter backed up a few inches.

"We gotta coalesce. 'Cause if all we come at him with is a plucky attitude-"

"Dude, don't call us plucky." Quil interrupted. "We don't know what it means. All right, we're optimistic, yes. I like your plan. Except it sucks, so let me do the plan and that way it might be really good."

"Tell him about the dance off to save the universe." Drax encouraged.

"What dance-off?" Tony asked, intrigued.

"It's nothing." Quil said quickly.

"Like in footloose, the movie?" Peter asked.

"Exactly like Footloose." Quil said excitedly. "Is it still the greatest movie in history?"

Great. There were two of them.

"It never was."

"Don't encourage this, all right?" Tony asked. "We're getting no help from Flash Gordon here."

"Flash Gordon? By the way, that's a compliment." Quil said from behind him. "Don't forget, I'm half human. So that fifty percent of me that's stupid, that's one hundred percent you."

"Your math is blowing my mind." Tony retorted.

"Excuse me." Mantis interrupted. "But does your friend often do that?"

Stephen was floating above a rock, green tendrils wrapped around his wrists. His head was jerking back and forth, side to side, up and down in weird movements. "Strange are we all right?" Tony shouted at him. Tony walked over to him and when Stephen dropped down, Tony put pressure on him so that he didn't fall off the rock. He knelt in front of him.

"You're back. You're all right." Tony said firmly.

"Hi."

"Hey, what was that?" Peter asked, sounding a little frightened from behind them.

Stephen was still breathing heavily as he explained, "I went forward in time to view alternate futures. To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict."

"How many did you see?" Quil asked from behind Tony.

"Fourteen million six hundred and five." Stephen replied.

"How many did we win?" Tony asked, dreading the answer. He could already read it on the wizards face.

"One."

6 notes · View notes

oldwritingm · 10 months ago

Note

I think you might enjoy Stay by The People's Thieves for whoever you think best fits

Oof, this one came out pretty angsty.... be warned my loves </3

Word count: 1.1k

South Park - Stay (Stan) (400 follower event)

He was in a haze, a blurry state of confusion and nauseating images surging around him like a stormy sea. And like a sailor he was sick, gripping something he couldn’t quite register but feeling no more stabilized.

Then he was on the ground, and he stared up at the black sky with half-lidded eyes. Not even the stars seemed to stay still, and they crawled around like insects on the black fabric of space.

Stan took a deep breath, vague memories coming to him at last. The feeling of a bottle against his lips, one after the other, and the gradual loss of all sense. The taste of alcohol—the taste he hated but craved constantly. He could taste it on his own breath when he exhaled, sending a cloud of breath into the chilly air.

He closed his eyes, tired of the swaying images. Tired in general, really. Sleepy. The cold definitely wasn’t helping; the lethargy one feels in freezing weather was only exacerbating his helpless state on the ground.

There was a frown on his lips as he drifted away, and the last thing he was aware of was the deep regret in his gut that always managed to find him when he did this exact thing, time and time again:

Well, you’ve done it again, Stan. You useless animal.

When he opened his eyes again, he noticed that his head was angled as if something were under it. He reached a hand up to pull it out, but he found the thing to be a warm mass too large to budge. Not that he could’ve, anyway; there was little feeling in his limbs, let alone energy.

He opened his eyes expecting to see the black sky, but instead it was a blurry face that he struggled to focus on in the darkness. His vision was no longer swaying, but he was still quite confused and slow-witted.

“Stan!”

He furrowed his brow, staring at the face. “Wh…”

“Stan,” the voice said, wavering and anguished. “I thought you were..!” A sob cut the sentence short.

Stan squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his eyes with numb fingers. “Don’t cry,” he murmured, “Y/n.” The name seemed to come to him on its own.

“You…” The voice wavered as it continued, clearly suppressing more sobs. “Can you stand?”

“Don’t want to.”

“Please, Stan. You’re freezing.”

“Okay,” he said at last, heaving himself into a sitting position.

An arm hooked in his armpit helped him to his feet, and it shifted across his back to support him while he walked. He leaned heavily on his supporter, slowly coming to the realization of who this was.

“Y/n,” he said with sudden urgency. “Y/n, it’s you!”

“Yes, Stan, it’s me.”

“Oh. Guh… good…”

“Up the steps now. One, two, three. Just like that.”

The warmth of the indoors assaulted Stan like lava, burning his nose and fingers. He dropped down onto a couch heavily, draping his arm across his eyes to shield himself when a lamp turned on.

“Ow… the light,” he groaned.

“I’ll get you some water.”

Good, he thought to himself. I’m so thirsty. He hadn’t noticed before. He was overwhelmed with gratitude for this angel, though he didn’t think to voice these feelings. He just clenched his jaw while his fingers burned and his head throbbed and his tongue stuck to his icy teeth dryly.

He felt a warm hand on the back of his neck prompting him to sit up, and a cup of water was placed in his hands. Its coolness eased the assault of heat on his fingers, and he relished the feeling.

“Drink it, my love.”

He obeyed, quenching his thirst by downing the whole thing. He dropped the cup lazily into his lap, bringing his hands to his face and pressing hard as if he could squeeze the headache away.

“I feel like shit.”

“I would expect so. There was a twelve-pack of beer in the garage a few hours ago, and now it’s gone.”

“It’s not just the alcohol. I feel guilty.”

A gentle hand met his shoulder, and he could feel a sympathetic gaze on him. He didn’t dare meet those soft eyes, though. He couldn’t bring himself to face you, not as he was.

“I’m such a scumbag. Drinking all the time, wasting away in the cold. I don’t even know where I went. I don’t remember walking there, and I hardly remember walking back.”

“You were just on the front lawn,” you said helpfully, hoping to calm him a little.

“It doesn’t matter where I was,” Stan lamented bitterly. “I was drunk. Absolutely gone. Damn it, I’m just like my father, aren’t I?” He shook his head. “Don’t answer that.”

“But you’re not like your father, Stan. You’re just not.”

“Then why do I do this? Why do I hurt myself and… and you?”

You didn’t have an answer to that. Instead you offered what you could in a meek voice: “You don’t hurt me. Not physically… you’re not violent.”

Stan finally looked at you, tears in his dry eyes. You were kneeling on the ground beside the couch, one hand resting reassuringly on his shoulder. You wrapped him in a hug, squeezing tight and pressing his head into your shoulder. You felt his chest start to heave as he cried.

“I love you,” he repeated between sobs. “I love you so, so much.”

“I know. I love you too.”

“No, you don’t—you don’t know. You can’t ever know how much I love you.” Stan took a deep breath, steadying himself. “I love you because… I know that you’ll always save me. When I’m gone like that, I always find my way back to your arms. And you… you pull me up. You save me. Every time.”

You listened to him speak, grateful that you were hugging so he couldn’t see the tears brimming your own eyes. “I’ll always be here for you, Stan.”

Stan finally wrapped his arms around you, too, returning the hug. He squeezed tight, as he always did when he was overwhelmed with love for you. “Thank you, Y/n. Thank you.”

You just nodded, rubbing his back and watching the ragged breathing smooth out.

His head was growing heavier on your shoulders. “Do you want to go back to sleep?” You asked, voice scarcely above a whisper.

“I want to stay with you.”

“You can do both, silly.”

Stan let out a sharp exhale in a half-hearted laugh. “You’re right.”

He tightened his grip on you and pulled you on top of him, burying his face in the crown of your head.

“I love you,” he said one last time, almost drifting off while he said it.

You were quite sure he was asleep when you said: “I love you, too.”

Last request for our 400 follower event!! Thank you for taking part!! And thanks for reading, love you all <33

(divider by saradika)

#south park #south park x reader #south park fanfiction #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #stan x reader

12 notes · View notes

blacklister214 · 11 months ago

Text

Honesty and Codology: Chapter 1 (Eejit)

I've had Scarnash on the brain since 4x06 and a strong hankering to write a POV fic for Patrick. This one takes place in the middle of 2x06 while Patrick is recovering in the hospital. I may do more chapters, but I have to warn you, my muses are fickle. Replies, questions, and reblogs are always appreciated! Apologies in advance for the typos I'm certain I missed. Enjoy!

___________________________________________________________

Patrick shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress. There had been times when he’d slept on much worse, but the feathered bed he'd used for the past five years had spoiled him.

The nurse had administered the pain medication, so his leg was no longer leaving him in constant agony, but the ache was still there. Perhaps it was better to focus on that, than the disquiet of being alone in the hospital room. Patrick never liked silence. It gave him too much time with his thoughts.

He’d had his men stake out every entrance to the building, so he could, theoretically, go to sleep without endangering his own life. Unfortunately, some instincts were harder to overcome than others. How much did he really trust his men? If the bribe were right, would one of them allow his would be killer chance to finish the job? Such contemplations made it rather hard to relax. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and willed the medicine to send him into a peaceful slumber.

“Hello Patrick.” Patrick’s hand immediately dove beneath his sheets to where he’d hidden his pistol. He tried to blink the blurriness from his vision as he aimed his weapon at the figure in the visitor’s chair.

Black bowler hat. Worn green waistcoat. Pocket watch. Fond, but vaguely disapproving expression on his face. It was Michael, exactly as he’d been the last time Patrick had seen him alive.

"That laudanum must have been strong.” He’d been warned about the possible side effects of the drug, but he didn’t recall seeing spirits as being one of them.

“Interesting way to greet your brother.” Patrick realized that he was still pointing the gun at Michael…no not Michael…at the empty chair where he was imagining Michael to be. Still, best to return the gun to its hiding spot before a nurse returned and caught him with it. Strictly speaking patients weren’t allowed weapons, but he’d gotten Clarence to smuggle one in.

“You’re not my brother. Just a hallucination, brought on by painkillers.” It was important for Patrick to state it out loud. He’d enjoyed reading A Christmas Carol as much as anyone, but he did not believe in ghosts.

“Does that mean you’re not pleased to see me?” The vision raised one eyebrow in a manner that was so familiar, so perfectly Michael, that Patrick had to swallow hard to keep tears from welling in his eyes. To see a memory animated before him was a miracle he’d never dreamed he’d witness.

“Nice to have visitors of any sort, I suppose.” Patrick frowned. He’d been aiming for nonchalant, but that had come out a bit self-pitying. He didn’t need a constant stream of people bothering him while was trying to rest.

“Clarence stopped by.”

Patrick almost asked about how Michael knew about Clarence, since he’d been hired after Michael’s death. Then he remembered he’d already decided that “Michael” was a product of his own brain. Whatever Patrick knew, Michael would as well.

“He needed me to sign some papers. God forbid my being shot interferes with the running of the accounts.” Clarence was a good employee. Loyal, hardworking. Certainly one of Patrick’s shrewder hires. Still, it wasn’t like they had a friendship. Employer and employee was a difficult line to cross and frankly they didn’t have much in common beyond a desire to see Nash and Sons succeed.

“Maggie would be here, if you’d bother telling her what happened. Eamonn, as well I suspect.”

The tone of gentle chastiment was all too familiar to Patrick’s ears. Whenever Patrick has caused mischief, and he had quite frequently, it was always the same. Why Patrick? Why did you leave a dead mouse in your teacher’s desk drawer? Why did you throw Liam O’Toole’s fishing pole in the river? Why did you steal the tart off Ma’s tray, when she told you to wait until after supper?

“No point in worrying them.” He’d gotten to know the witnesses to his brother’s murder over the years, and Patrick liked them both. Still, the dark history that bound them all together made him reluctant to form any tighter bonds. He was convinced he’d only survived his brother’s death because of Nash and Sons. He poured everything he had into the business, into making Michael’s dream a reality. Patrick couldn’t have done that with regular reminders of what he’d lost.

“True. What are a few bullets in a leg in the grand scheme of things? You have two, after all.”

Patrick has a strong impulse to cross his arms over his chest. He was no longer a child attempting to stand his ground with his much older brother. Patrick realized with a jolt that they were the same age now. Good god, seven years had flown quickly. What once seemed an impossibly large chasm was no more.

“The situation is well in hand. I have the best investigator in London working the case.” He considered qualifying that statement, with “outside himself”, but rejected it. “Michael” was in his head, and Patrick had no illusions about how he rated against Eliza Scarlet.

“The lady detective.”

There was something odd in Michael’s inflection when he used the sobriquet. Perhaps a slight emphasis on the word “lady”? Patrick doubted that even a Michael of his imagination would take issue with a female PI. Their own mother, God rest her, had had a commanding presence that generals would envy.

Perhaps it was the poshness the title implied. Patrick himself had made the mistake of dismissing the “Lady Detective” for that very reason. Women of the middle and upper classes, as a rule, hadn’t much in the way of grit. The only ambitions they were encouraged to nurture were of a matrimonial bent.

“She’s very good. Tenacious. Ambitious. Clever. Hoodwinked me, more than once.” St. Clair had been furious when he’d shown up at the office, ranting about “that woman” making fools of them both. Patrick had agreed to buy up every available copy of the circular just to calm him down. Months later and Patrick was still using the story of his humiliation as tinder for his fires.

“That must have been quite the experience for you.”

Patrick looked down, smiling to himself at the memory of surprising her at her home. She had been confused by his smile and words of congratulations. She had a right to be. By her own admission her trick had hurt his relationship with St. Clair, embarrassed him in the eyes of the public, and potentially stuck him with a lawsuit. By rights he should have been furious with her…but he wasn’t.

The fact was, he couldn’t remember a case where he’d enjoyed himself more. As he’d told her, he loved a challenge, and Eliza Scarlet was nothing if not challenging. Any anger he felt at the outcome was overpowered by the swell of admiration for her and the intense desire to make her a part of his agency.

Patrick, glanced back up, suddenly aware he’d been musing to himself for over a minute. That was rude, even to a figment of his own imagination. Michael did not seem at all perturbed at being ignored. On the contrary, he was smirking at Patrick in a disconcerting manner, as though he were enjoying a joke at Patrick’s expense.

“The point is, she’ll find out who was behind it.” Who had shot him, and why? A difficult question to answer. Someone he’d put away? A source of information he’d squeezed one time too many? A jealous husband? Not, of course, that Patrick would deliberately dally with a married woman. Too much trouble. But it wouldn’t be the first time a woman claimed widowhood a bit prematurely. Then, of course, there was always the possibility it was O’Driscoll. He had received no word from Eamonn or Maggie, but ships came in and out of the docks every day. It was possible his brother’s killer had avoided them, choosing to have Patrick removed before eliminating the more vulnerable targets.

“Does it trouble you that you’ve angered so many people, you haven’t a clue who wants you dead?”

Patrick looked at Michael sharply, the memory of O’Driscoll coating his tongue with bitterness.

“You’re a fine one to talk.” An old anger blossomed in Patrick’s chest as he returned to that night in his mind. Michael had gone to the docks alone that night, rather than wait for Patrick. If Patrick had ever done something so foolish, Michael would have tanned his hide.

“That’s unfair.”

“You should have taken me with you.” They were supposed to stick together. That was the deal they’d made. Michael, for the first time in his life, had broken his word, and he’d left Patrick all alone.

“You weren’t there when the tip came in.”

A fact continued to haunt Patrick to this day. He hadn’t been there. He’d been down at the tavern drinking and flirting with lasses.

“We’d worked for two weeks straight on the case for next to nothing. I needed a break!” The words felt hollow, even as he said them. Selfish. As hard as Patrick worked, Michael had worked double. He never complained either. He had been so good. He’d always been so good. Patrick sometimes wondered if his being born was the universe balancing things out.

“I never said you didn’t. I told you to go, remember?”

Of course he did. Michael had forever been Patrick’s greatest advocate. Smallpox took both their parents when Patrick was only 8 years old. Michael had kept them both housed, fed, and clothed, working odd jobs until he was old enough to join the Royal Irish Constabulary. When Patrick was old enough, Michael had given him a recommendation. Patrick had been drummed out for insubordination, and Michael had immediately resigned his post. He’d gotten them passage to London and worked menial jobs until they’d saved enough to open Nash & Sons.

“You should have come with me.” Just once, couldn’t Michael have been selfish? Ignored responsibility for a single evening?

“I couldn’t. I’d made a promise.” Patrick briefly closed his eyes. He remembered the look on the faces of Maggie’s family, desperate for their daughter’s return. Did he really blame Michael for not wanting to waste time tracking Patrick down? No. Not with Maggie’s life on the line. In his heart of hearts, he knew where the blame truly lay.

“You and your honesty.”

“You and your codology.”

Their old refrain. He remembered returning to their very first office with a small sign engraved “Nash and Sons.” When Michael had pointed out neither of them actually HAD sons, Patrick had explained that they were the “Sons.” The name implied that business was inherited, with a legacy of success, rather than an upstart agency. Michael had shaken his head in exasperation, but allowed Patrick’s his way.

Patrick had often joked that if it bothered him so much, he could find himself a wife and have some children. Michael had always smiled and said, “Or you could.” Then they’d both laugh at the likelihood of that happening.

“You’ll be pleased to know I have been a bit more truthful of late.” The look on Michael’s face was skeptical.

“Oh really?”

“Miss Scarlett. I offered her a fair rate for referring cases to her, rather than just taking my finder’s fee off the top.”

Today had actually been something of a success, bullets in his leg notwithstanding. His months of careful planning had paid off. Sending cases her way. Paying Detective Phelps for news regarding Inspector Wellington. He’d waited for the perfect moment, then struck.

At first his proposal had not had the warmest of receptions, but in the end she had capitulated. Not totally, of course. Not yet. And naturally she’d managed to rest a small victory of her own from the encounter. Still, being out an extra month’s pay was more than worth the exhilaration that came with going toe to toe with a worthy opponent.

“A noble gesture, I am sure. Not in the least self-serving.” Patrick rolled his eyes at the rebuke.

“I didn’t grow our business to what it is today by being altruistic. Besides, Eliza despises charity. I would have mortally wounded her pride.”

Her disgruntled tone when she decried needing his help told him everything he needed to know on that score. She could accept a business exchange, but under no circumstances did she want his pity. She was a unique woman, who was more offended by chivalry than chicanery.

“Eliza?” Patrick realized that he’d unintentionally used her first name. Odd, that.

“I meant Miss Scarlett. A slip of the tongue.”

“That would be a first.” Michael wasn’t wrong. Patrick's words were his best weapons and he usually wielded them with great care. Patrick shook his head and attempted to shrug it off.

“I am, as I mentioned, on rather strong medication.”

Michael made a non-committal sound and rose.

“Perhaps it's best I leave you to rest then.” He turned toward the door, as though he were a flesh and blood visitor, not a phantom of Patrick’s mind. Phantom or no though, Patrick wasn’t quite ready for him to disappear.

“Michael?” His brother paused and glanced back at him, “Why now? After all these years, why am I dreaming of you now?”

Michael scratched his beard.

“I thought you said it was the laudenum. That I’m just in your imagination.” Patrick supposed Michael had a point. Any answer Michael gave would ultimately come from himself. Still, he wanted a response.

“I’m curious about what I’d imagine you to say.” That same mysterious smile from earlier returned to his brother’s face.

“You’re the detective. Has something changed in your life lately? Something you’d want to talk to me about? Or someone?” Patrick’s eyes widened as Michael's implication suddenly dawned on him. Eliza Scarlet. Somehow she had triggered this…encounter.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Michael. What exactly was he saying? That he fancied her? She was strong and clever and funny and pretty and a man would be mad not to be drawn toward that. And yes, she had a disturbing tendency to make him want to be more fair and honest, at least with her. All that though, was besides the point.

His affairs with women were uncomplicated things. He was interested in experienced women who enjoyed occasional companionship, but didn’t want the burden of a husband. That suited him perfectly. He didn’t have time for anything else. Besides, it was clear to anyone with eyes she had her heart set on Inspector William Wellington. Not that the fool deserved her, but that wasn't the main issue either. The issue was that she was going to be an excellent asset to his business, and he would never do anything to compromise that. Nash and Sons came first. Always.

Though he had to admit, it had been nice, when he’d opened his eyes and found that she’d stayed with him from his transportation to the hospital through the surgery. It was nice to have someone who cared, at least a little. Feck.

Patrick glared up at his brother.

“Eejit.” Since when had Michael been the one to stir up unnecessary trouble? That was Patrick’s role and he’d thank his brother to remember it. The corners of Michaels’ lips tilted up at the insult.

“According to you, you’re only talking to yourself. Now, get some sleep.” Patrick’s eyelids suddenly felt impossibly heavy and began to close. Fighting against his stupor, he managed to get out the words he hadn’t been able to say all those years ago.

“Good bye, Michael.”

“Good night, Patrick.”

#patrick nash #miss scarlet and the duke #fanfiction #eliza scarlet #michael nash #scarnash #eliza x patrick

16 notes · View notes

sunluzhen · 6 months ago

Text

They remember, vaguely, the day they were born. Created. Molded from clay that was embedded with the shattered pieces of Monkey King's stone egg. A woman's face. How small they felt, cupped in her hands. The sound of something sliding against the ground -- scales. Slithering.

They had forgotten her, after the storm. She left them behind. Whether on purpose or not, they don't know. Might never know, now, in this strange place so disconnected from the reality they once knew. But they still feel this sense of urgency, in finding out. Yet, it's been put on the back burner. This place was convenient, at least, when it came to being provided with distractions.

They've been having strange dreams again. Snippets of conversations; visions of unfamiliar scenes that invoked a sense of déjà vu; a torrent of mixed emotions. Horror and dread and awe and anger and desperation. The sky falling apart. Them falling apart with it.

Maybe they should actually search for the answers to at least one of their many existential problems: who is she? They don't know how to find their answer, is the thing. Wukong certainly knew lots of people between all the realms, but... could they go to him? For something so personal?

They still haven't talked about what MK is. They don't think Wukong even knows, either, so maybe he wouldn't have any of the answers to begin with.

Macaque probably wouldn't know. Sun and Nezha were from a different universe-- providing the description of a specific god from MK's world would be pretty useless, probably. What are the odds of them also knowing a giant goddess with the body of a serpent? She wouldn't be MK's creator, even if they did know something.

It's when they're laying on their bed, staring frustratedly up at the ceiling, that they finally have an epiphany. They could go to Spirale's infamous library! It holds knowledge such a repertoire of magical knowledge after all, doesn't it? Maybe, just maybe, it'll have information from across the multiverse too. They've only been once, accompanying little Liu'er one day. It turned out the little monkey was quite the book worm. They still remember the way.

They jolt upright with renewed energy as they prepare themselves for a hike deep into the enchanted forest. It takes a couple of hours on foot, which is fine by them. They don't exactly have any other mode of transportation. They could take the bus most of the way, surely, but...

Today they felt the need to have some space, in order to keep their thoughts somewhat organized, at least on their way to the library. It gives them the time they need to focus on their memory of her. Her face, the style of her make-up; blurry. Her style of headdress, the gem at the center; green. Her flowy hanfu; green. The scales adorning her serpentine body; green.

The other animals carved out of clay. Was there anything else she made?

The library probably won't have all the answers. But maybe they could at least finally attach a name to her face. They're not looking for much more than that. They stand outside the library's grand entrance for a moment, silent, before taking a deep breath. They're not sure what they're bracing themselves for, even. Then they head inside.

They remember how the librarian intimidated Liu'er, when they visited this place together. MK understood why. But she kinda just reminded MK of Mei's relatives, which made her not quite as scary in their mind's eye. So, they walk right up to her desk, standing on their tippy-toes in order to peek above the counter properly.

"Hi, ma'am! Uhm— my name's Xiaotian. I was wondering... These books come from all sorts of different worlds, right? Could you help me find some texts from mine?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I remember you. That shouldn't be too difficult, your world is rather... Distinct, even from the similar ones. What are you looking for?"

"Uhm— texts about the gods from my world. The celestial realm and stuff."

It was as simple as that. Pretty quickly, he was being pointed in the right direction with a list of titles to look for. He feels a bit silly, now, for taking so long to do this. But there's that small part of him still desperately clinging to the desire for some sense of normalcy again. Like-- if he confirms his creator's identity, somehow, that'll ruin any chance of the status quo.

He sighs. He's not even fooling himself anymore, really. The moment he woke up in this strange city with the glamor of a human form completely stripped away... that itself was the nail in the coffin, honestly.

"Just open the damn book already, MK." He hisses at himself, shaking his head as he grabs one of the titles off the shelf, and promptly sits down with it. There's no use in stalling. He flips it open to the first page.

He didn't even have to dig through the book. There she was, one of the oldest recorded gods-- right there.

Nüwa.

#isola drabble #happy mother's day mk. you receive: mother problems #wow ok im done trying to make this perfect this is literally for my enjoyment alone anyways. bleh #ending is a little rushed cuz i just wanted to get this outta my draaafts. its been sitting for so long.

3 notes · View notes

lifenconcepts · 4 months ago

Text

Does your system have any inhuman members? If so, what species are they?

The heart counts as it often is either a canine/dog/wolf! Very very rarely a cat but that also counts ;3

🐾 Is your system mostly human or inhuman members? Somewhere in between?

I’d say pretty much both! We’re formless for the most part but have a good idea with being both human and animal.

🧡 How does your system handle memories? Does everyone share, or is it split across members? (Feel free to be as vague or specific as you want, or skip this question.)

ooh quite the fun question! For the most part it is the mind as I only recall if the mind allows me to but there are a few ones spread spread out, yet I suppose the soul only has past lives, and the heart and body dont really dabble in that sort of thing.

⭐ Do you have a headspace / inner world? What does it look like?

AHHH I’ve been considering but that’s too hard to answer ;(

💛 How long have you known about your system / plurality?

LITTERALLY JUST TODAY AAHHHHHH well was considering it for a while but only official today. Happy being born, I! 30 of august of this year :3

🌻 How did you discover your system / plurality?

After considering the fact that my identity has constantly been waving about far too much and far too long, taking a did test, realising many non-quiz stuff I relate to but the actual thing I don’t.

🌙 How does your system handle dreams? Do you share dreams, or are they specific to one member? Do any members show up in dreams?

oh this is so wonderful and I must admit that the soul is the primary one who has and appears in dreams, I do have some recollection and sometimes study it to allow some insight on our mind.

💚 Do you have any funny stories about another system member(s) or about being a system?

Not yet but I do have some moments that I’m unsure if they were just an experience or related to my selves..

🍀 Do any system members practice a religion or belief system? What about spirituality?

WERE SO SPRITUAL GAHHHHH also bro our soul is litterally the embodiment of it! Hehhejehdhhejeheghehehd we don’t practice it all that much really, just “oh my gosh were apart of the divine energy creating god” and what not. Hope he doesn’t mind the fact I just decided I’m a system, pretty sure he already knew tho.

❄ Do you have a favorite memory related to your system? (i.e. something that happened in headspace or something that another member did.)

My heart out of nowhere making me super excited and my soul just out of nowhere giving me the best sleep ever.

💙 your system have any introjects? This is blurry but I just presume I enjoy characters so much that I am able to imagine myself as them, nothing more. Also like pretending to be them, relate to their media as if it’s me, see a part of myself in them and them in myself, find any mention of them to be of me, and am very nit picky of their presentation. Not indicative of anything. /gen (Wait fuck don’t make me question that too..)

🧵 How does your system handle the body's / vessel's appearance? Does everyone dress the same, or is there a broad range of styles?

We are too lazy to coax the heart into giving us one coherent image to follow so I and the mind dress us in whatever the hell we pick up first, although we have a few styles in mind.

💜 What's your favorite part of being plural / in a system?

Being able to stay calm in confusing situations within my mind and explain myself better.

🌸 Does your system have any inside jokes?

Perhaps….

🎀 Does your system share everything in the outer world / meatspace? Does anyone have any objects / items that are solely theirs?

Oo yes yes yes!!!! My soul has a few very old things, my heart has a few music boxes, I/my soul have my own cup, body it’s preferred sweater, and mind it’s most comfortable object to use to keep the rest of us at bay aka super comfy headphones that my heart and I have been freaking out over as it was a gift from a lovely person.

🤎 Do system members typically agree on things or is there a broad range of opinions?

Typically some various opinions but we can decide on things usually. I’m the main one cuz I got rhe consciousness (haha losers gotta sit in the back (okay okay sorry i litterally just had a burst of sorrow at this like, you can not tel me the heart and soul have their own autonomy over my self))but the heart and mind and sometimes soul got their own opinion to put in. Also we sometimes gotta just shut up and do what is best for our health cuz the body won’t mess about with our silly intrapersonal connections.

🖤 How does your system make important collective decisions? Does one person call the shots, or is it a group effort?

Usually me, but if they’re loud enough then likely anyone else of the 4 others.

🚀 Do any members speak another language? What about multiple languages? Does everyone speak the same language(s), or does it vary?

I speak English, my soul - Russian (also my body, duh), and my heart is primarily nonverbal and loves animal noises!

🌼 Do any members have accents or typing quirks? I love to speak with exclamation marks, my heart makes sure to put in enough emoticons to last a lifetime, my mind is very fixated on punctuation, and that’s pretty much it ;3

☁ How does your system handle switching? Can you switch easily, or does it take more effort? Are there a lot of switches?

I wouldn’t say I switch but fine there are moments my heart wntirely takes over and I bring on a different from although I think that may be mental switching due to my alterhuman ness hehehhehehehejxjjdbdb AAAHHH alrigjt

🔬 Does everyone in your system typically share skills and hobbies, or does it vary between members? Does anyone have any unique or strange hobbies / skills?

All have their own thing but we want more. I got my writing, mind got it’s silly job (stupid job but it truly adores the work it does), soul has uhm music I think, heart has Pinterest scrolling, and body has food. Idk man whatmkre to explain here.

🏁 How has your system changed over time, if it has? Such as a new influx of members, a change in headspace, or a new structure. Ah.. I don’t remember. You must ask my mind whenever it wants to come online (but then I’ll sadly not type as much as I’m writing today!!)

🔎 Is there any other trivia about your system you'd like to share?

AAHHHHHH maybe???!!!:!!:!:!,&&,&/.&@;”/!

🤍 Say something positive about another system member (or all of them, if you'd like!)

I LOVE MY HEART’s ATTITUDE TO EXISTENCE AND THE POWER WHICH COURSES THROUFH IT, I LOVE MY MIND’S MATURITY AND ALL IT DOES TO KEEP US HAPPY AND SAFE, I ADORE MY SOUL’S VOICE WITHIN THE UNIVERSE, I AM PROUD OF MY BODY BEIMG ABLE TO SAY IF ITS HURTING, AND I LOVE MYSELF FOR BEING UNNAFECTED BY OTHER EXTERNAL PEOPLE AND FOR STAYING TRUE TO MYSELF!!!

Curious System / Plural Ask Game

inclusive of all system types :] feel free to send an ask, or reblog if you want to play too!

❤ Is anyone in-system in a relationship? What kind(s)?

🌹 Does your system have any inhuman members? If so, what species are they?

🐾 Is your system mostly human or inhuman members? Somewhere in between?

🧡 How does your system handle memories? Does everyone share, or is it split across members? (Feel free to be as vague or specific as you want, or skip this question.)

⭐ Do you have a headspace / inner world? What does it look like?

💛 How long have you known about your system / plurality?

🌻 How did you discover your system / plurality? (Feel free to be as vague or specific as you want, or skip this question.)

🌙 How does your system handle dreams? Do you share dreams, or are they specific to one member? Do any members show up in dreams?

💚 Do you have any funny stories about another system member(s) or about being a system?

🍀 Do any system members practice a religion or belief system? What about spirituality?

❄ Do you have a favorite memory related to your system? (i.e. something that happened in headspace or something that another member did.)

💙 Does your system have any introjects? Do they typically come from the same source / origin, or is it more varied?

🧵 How does your system handle the body's / vessel's appearance? Does everyone dress the same, or is there a broad range of styles?

💜 What's your favorite part of being plural / in a system?

🌺 Do any members consider other system members to be family? In other words, does your system have any internal families (such as siblings, caretakers, parents, etc.) ?

🌸 Does your system have any inside jokes?

🎀 Does your system share everything in the outer world / meatspace? Does anyone have any objects / items that are solely theirs?

🤎 Do system members typically agree on things or is there a broad range of opinions?

🖤 How does your system make important collective decisions? Does one person call the shots, or is it a group effort?

🚀 Do any members speak another language? What about multiple languages? Does everyone speak the same language(s), or does it vary?

🌼 Do any members have accents or typing quirks? Are accents/quirks common in your system, or more rare?

☁ How does your system handle switching? Can you switch easily, or does it take more effort? Are there a lot of switches?

🔬 Does everyone in your system typically share skills and hobbies, or does it vary between members? Does anyone have any unique or strange hobbies / skills?

🏁 How has your system changed over time, if it has? Such as a new influx of members, a change in headspace, or a new structure. (Feel free to be as vague or specific as you want, or skip this question.)

🔎 Is there any other trivia about your system you'd like to share?

🤍 Say something positive about another system member (or all of them, if you'd like!)

#This was so exciting to do thank you I loved it!!!!#I (plural)#endo system #pro endo #plural community #system positivity #about me #Pinned info #pinned post

763 notes · View notes

sorairokakera · 2 months ago

Text

Visual Arts, and dream

Art is a life that I have been dreaming of the most. Just imagining it already gives me so much feelings I want to live in, yet it weirdly scares me every time I try to take a step closer. In my journey of struggling to be brave enough, there are some manga with visual art life as theme, that become my favorite friends.

Blue Period ブルーピリオド

Blue Period manga is really a great read. Maybe almost all or all (?) story arc are interesting. They are thought-provoking, somehow encouraging to keep giving the best of ourselves at that moment. I enjoy reading (almost) all characters and their journey, though I am more excited reading/watching interactions between Yuka-chan (Ryuji) x Yatora, also Yakumo x Momo-chan (unlikely to be a ship). Reading this manga often makes me feel I wish I am brave, just go, live it fully!!.

Hachimitsu to Kurōbā ハチミツとクローバー

Honey and Clover really a heartfelt story, self-discovery, relationships, youth, life. I watched the anime and read the manga for the rest of story (after anime) a long, long time ago that my memories of it is blurry. I vaguely remember I had a rollercoaster of emotions following their complex relationships. I forget when I found this but, I remember I wish I could attend an art university like them. Painting, pottery, sculpture, architecture, maybe there are more arts there I don't remember everything but, I remember it's very lovely to watch/read about various characters there, various art life.

Sen wa, Boku wo Egaku 線は、僕を描く

At the time (few years ago?) I start having interest in ink painting, I found this manga and was excited to read it. A quite short read, Sen wa, Boku wo Egaku is so lovely. My interest in ink painting also flourishes during and after reading this. Though I tend to like colors more, I also interested in learning sumi-e, someday.

Kuragehime 海月姫

JELLYFISH!! I was so excited when I found this manga, they're making jellyfish dress!! Aaaa so pretty ; A ; Kuragehime manga is very interesting, very fun to read. Various interesting and fun characters, also crossdresser (so pretty!). Thinking about this makes me want to reread it again >_<

These four mangas are heartwarming in their own ways and very interesting. I wish I can collect them in my future book-room (please come true sooner). I can see myself pick them to read from time to time, either for some doses of encouragement or just indulging in artsy fantasy.

#sorairokakeraokini #favorite manga #manga to reread

0 notes

gabagoogus · 7 months ago

Text

Moi stoopid magic system

Magic, power systems, techniques, I personally find it the best part of an anime or book. Seeing all of the complex interactions is crazy. My magic system is called

DIVINUM AUXILIUM

Of course, in universe, it goes by many names, such as Blessings, Divine Intervention, or simply, a Divine fortune or any other synonym. At its core, it is the act of a being from a higher plane granting boons or power to a being from a lower plane. This could be a god giving powers to a human, or even a vengeful spirit assisting a being with a similar goal. By definition, all power users in the verse fall under the classification of a “Warlock”, but it's not just guys in robes spamming eldritch blast, as it can vary greatly depending on the blesser and the user. The main granters of boons are as followed

- what would be considered a “god”. Most gods in the verse are more so personifications of a concept or universal law, apart from the original one, known simply as Yggdrasil, who upon spontaneous existence through fluctuating virtual particles, proceeded to personify the core concepts of physics and the world. Some notable gods include Aevum, goddess of time, and Vis, god of entropy and energy. This duo were the first beings created after Yggdrasil.

-Spirits. Anything from vengeful spirits not ready to rest, to spirits of powerful people persisting after death, to long lost guardians who have lost all trace of their time as a mortal. Any being with enough willpower can come back as a spirit to aid- or hinder- those still bound to the mortal coil.

- Fae. Fae are mysterious beings that travel between the branches of Yggdrasil and hop between planes. Most who know of them think they are all annoying and mischievous, but wise ones know that only the assholes actually show themselves to common folk. They give them a bad name. While not as powerful as gods, Fae give the most unique abilities to their hosts.

While there are some exceptions, these are the main granters of power.

Inorder to obtain these powers from above, one must first die- or almost die. Being on the edge of death is like balancing a lightswitch. One slight nudge and you either live or lights out. This time is perfect for a deity to grant boons as you are as far into the higher realms as possible without passing through, so the connection is at its strongest. Keep in mind that only those with the highest “fate weight” are chosen. This value is either from what you're destined to do to the world as of now, or what you can possibly do if granted powers. This is like a betting game for the deities as they can only have one avatar at a time, so they must consider who to bless.

If you are lucky, instead of dying, you will have a hazy and blurry dream of a silhouette of the deity coming up to you bringing you back to life. Once awakened, the avatar will have nothing but a vague memory of the situation, the basics on how to use their new powers, and an undying and deadly sense of motivation for something. That thing? Well, it's different for everyone. Some have a clear understanding of purpose, while others just get on with an “it is what it is” and the vague knowledge of whatever they do, they will achieve something.

Now you may ask, how do these powers work? Well it's simple… I'm just kidding, it's not simple at all. Divine aid is different for everyone, as every deity is different. You'll almost never get powers directly associated with your deity, but instead something adjacent to it, which you will soon learn was actually your deities power all along, just manifested in a different way. Example: Aevum’s avatar didn’t get time powers right away, instead he got ice powers, which was secretly just him slowing down time on atoms to subtract heat (as an atoms speed=heat), creating ice.

In Order to use any of your granted boons, you need what's known as primordial soup. After a blessing, an avatar starts to naturally collect primordial soup, and it is stored within the brain. Primordial soup is produced by beings known as sprites. Tiny spirits the size of a hamster that sit at the roots of Yggdrasil and feed off of it. They sit on the same plane as human souls, which is why it's easy for humans to gather it, although only avatars can actually gather enough for it to be useful. This is thanks to a strange region of the brain that grows after becoming an avatar known as the Phasma. This chunk of brain actually sits within the soul plane and attracts sprites. Primordial soup is this bright blue neon sludge that is full of universal energy. Even the gods need it to survive. It allows an avatar to have a clear connection to their deity, and henceforth draw from their power. It basically makes you have better spirit internet to facetime your deity, with your Phasma being the router.

The two types of sprite are Magiums and Phages. Magiums are fat and round and give a decent and long stream of soup to the gatherer, letting them use their powers for a long time, but Phages are long and jagged. They quickly inject a ton of soup into the avatar and allow for quick and powerful bursts of power to come forth. Most users of divine fortune tend to stick to gathering one or the other, but you can choose what you want more of by changing hormone levels in the Phasma. It's good to have a mix of both.

Human souls are separate from bodies. They sit on the soul plane, which is one level above the mortal plane. They are still one being, but souls are slightly separate from the body, which is why some things only affect the soul. The only part of the physical body on the soul plane is the Phasma.

The following are two examples of Divinum avatars.

Omega is a strange and somewhat insane plague doctor who is the avatar of Aevum, goddess of time. Instead of getting time powers, he instead got the ability to manifest ice from the moisture in and around him (which is just him subconsciously slowing down time on the subatomic level) This pairs well with his alchemy, which is a completely different system in the universe that i will not be talking about right now. For other avatars, the only time they get to at least see their deity is in hazy visions and dreams, but Aevum instead shows up as a figment of Omegas imagination. She randomly shows up as a transparent veiled woman, and sometimes offers advice, although most of the time she just criticises him and asks way too many questions. Omega finds her really annoying and sometimes thinks she should've just left him to die. Only Omega can see Aevum, which makes him look extremely schizophrenic. After another death, the deity either cuts off their divine power, leaving the avatar to die, or gives more power. This phenomenon is known as a Deus Ex Machina, and allows them to use their “Magnum Opus”. Now at a direct connection with their deity, the avatar can now finally use the root power granted. Omega gained the power to slow down time by 99% and to use many new alchemical techniques, and most notably a technique known as “absolute zero”. This allows him to completely stop time and rapidly mess with time and age on an atomic scale, breaking down atoms and age things until they are naught but dust.

Hellflame is another avatar who instead gets his powers from Vis, god of entropy and energy. Omega and Hellflame are both part of a small squad of mercenaries, and are great friends. Hellflame, as you would imagine, has the ability to start and control fire, as well as go into a demon state, where he gets much better durability, and absorbs kinetic energy.

He utilises his powers well, by using the force of explosions to accelerate his limbs to speeds of mach 2. He also specialises in firearms, and replaces regular bullets with bullets made of superheated plasma, which he generates by chucking any random bit of metal into his guns and heating it up. He may not look like it, but he is just as smart as omega, and has a degree in engineering, (apparently). Upon receiving a Deus Ex Machina, Hellflame gains the ability to store kinetic energy. Upon storing enough kinetic energy, he goes into a state called

Kugelblitz, and becomes effectively indestructive for a few minutes, basically like Hakari’s jackpot from JJK. The aura around him is enough to vaporise glass, and he reaches speeds up to mach 3, enough to contend with the speeds of Omega while slowing down time. His magnum opus is called Oroboros, where he summons a giant snake made of pure universal energy and unbalanced nearby creatures and objects entropy, draining the life out of living things and causing inanimate things to be exploded to dust and even erased. (kinda like malevolent shrine)

Uhhhh yeah that's a bit about my magic system. It still has a few flaws. I'll go more in depth about characters and Alchemy in a separate post I guess, if people care.

I also need help coming up with the name of the mercenary gang Omega and Hellflame are in, but ill talk about that later.

Thanks for reading.

#worldbuilding #writing #magic #magic systems #oc #writers on tumblr

0 notes

saltine-kakyoin · 5 years ago

Note

*KICKS DOWN YOUR DOOR IN TURN* WHATUP BUDDY!!!!!!! lichrally i love pokemon more than Anything so im gonna hit u with a BUNCH of requests, feel free to do whichever ones u want!!!! ok so how about chikorita, lugia, togetic, lucario, luxray, oshawott, rowlett, AND eevee (plus name ur favorite eeveelution!!) ok thats it ILY

BRO… OUR DOORS ARE GONE.. WE MAY NOW LIVE FREE + UNINHIBITED..

and DUDE. YEAH!! i snapped when i saw u reblog this bc of the pokemon chats we’ve had! thank you for going MAD on me man, i’m aboutta go wild over this dhghshg. i will also be puttin this under a readmore for mobile gang :3

chikorita- oH… A LEGEND.. i’ve never used chikorita, but we Love and Respect it nonetheless. their little :D face is so good and makes my soul uwu whenever i see it. also, one of my favorite ygo artists as a kid had the same name as their evolution, so!! it’s nothing but adorable + best hours for ms. chikorita

lugia- *banging fists on table* TOWER DUO TOWER DUO!! lugia is really good, but i have always been more partial to gold + heartgold, SO. my heart is forever w ho-oh. ;w; also, in middle school, i got my ass handed to me by this kid w a really strong lugia, so there are some bittersweet memories associated w it too lmao. i would say not my favorite but also cute bc johto is not complete w/o it

togetic- somehow i’ve never encountered a togetic?? but its design is so good, it is just a friend. ;w; also, i have a lot of childhood memories centered around misty’s togepi + the anticipation of it evolving into togetic (i don’t think i ever did see it evolve tho lol) i would say cute!

lucario- lucario is good and its design Slaps, but i remember being really exhausted w the Lucario Hype of the late 2000s as a kid, so… not my fave

luxray- godddd i remember the first time i encountered a luxray in heartgold…literally my wig went interstellar, the design is SO GOOD. such a spooky + imposing lookin pokemon, but such a good one too..best + ultimate fave

oshawott- BABEY!!! this was my GUY, this was my Starter for black and literally i am so Endeared to oshawatt bc of the journey we went on in that game :””( its little o ^ o face is just BABEY and its evolutions are so good.. i adore oshawatt, i have a lil plushie of it, ahhh.. adorable, best, and ultimate fave

rowlett- god i know Nothing about rowlett beyond the memes, but i adore them shghdhf…i’m mildly horrified by its 10-yard stare, but i respect it nonetheless. best + cute

eevee- *RIPS OFF MY SHIRT* bRO… we do NOT talk about eevee in this house. i use to spend ALL my time in middle school reading originalshipping fics, and like ooga mfin BOOGA..eevee has all my respect in the WORLD for dealing with green’s stupid melodramatic ass. she is stronger than all of us. Vaporeon remains my ride or die eeveelution to this Day, but i always found leafeon super cool, too! and sylveon is just BABEY. ugh. best + ultimate fave

bonus round from the following ask- oddish! while i will forever love oddish’s little :D face, i can never forget the guy i battled online at the tender age of like 12 that used a bunch of legendaries to whittle me down + THEN. switched out reshiram for a fucking oddish and beat my ass that way!!! >:( all it gets is a cute

#ILY TOO RUTH!!!#all of my pokemon experience is drawn from fire red heartgold + black #and sometimes. Sometimes the pokemon anime #but my memories of the anime are all vague and blurry so :(#madness hours in the pokemon club #fullmetal-the-last-alchemist

2 notes · View notes

lunae-lucis · 4 months ago

Text

Okay, here we go, I'm currently updating my game

Meanwhile, I was thinking. It would be nice to have some sort of dialogue as the one you get in Animal Crossing, whenever you come back after some time, "Oh, it's you, what have you been up to? I haven't seen you in a while!", that kind of dialogue. Maybe even a chance for the relationship levels to decrease if you're absent for too long, with an option in the settings to turn it off as you please. There's an actual setting in The Sims 4 where you can toggle off automatically aging up, so it could also be a thing.

I can imagine a little cutscene? with Jel, silently showing up to his shop and quietly looking at him from the entrance, his back is facing you so he doesn't notice you but he's still visibly upset, absentmindedly fidgeting with some cloth he's tried working on (unsuccesfully). Whether he senses your scent (mixed with the one from the flowers) or hears the unique sound of your footsteps (he has memorized everything about you like a poem by now), he slowly turns around and you see his sad-looking eyes suddenly light up. You both stare at each other in silence, taking in all the words you aren't actually saying, no sound escapes your lips, only the faded sounds from outside can be heard, time seems to go slower and everything else just blurries out in the background.

"Oh, my dear... is it really you that I see? Or is it the vague and faint memory of you, coming to torment my soul and increase the sorrows in my weak and pitiful heart?"

...

I don't know, something like that ^_^

Oh, and also rain. Rain is nice. Rain is cool

Fall is back and so am I. But will I fall from the hyperfixation train again?

...

Do you get it? Fall as in-

Nevermind.

Sorry.

#palia #random thoughts #palia jel

7 notes · View notes

igotanidea · 2 years ago

Text

Endless glorious purpose.

I'm back guys! Setting my mind on request that was send before. This one is for @emarich7 saying: For some reason I think Loki and Dream would be friends...like Dream would truly know Loki from his dreams and Loki would understand Dream and what he went through while caged up.

Set in the post-TVA and post-restoring Dreaming time.

Apart from one redish light pulsating somewhere In the distance the room was dark. It was hard to say whether the place was big or small or where exactly it was situated, but during his time as a god of mischief Loki has seen a lot of different tricks and shenanigans, most of them caused by him so this… this was nothing that would scare him. Black haired man grinned in his signature facial expression and with all the dignity he could gather took a few steps forward.

“Show yourself!” he exclaimed “whoever you are, I know you are here. Acting like a coward, afraid to reveal your face.”

“Loki of Asgard” cold voice sounded in front of the god “such bold words of you.”

“I am a god.”

“And yet, you are in my realm with no real power here.” Dark clothed figure, which could soon be recognized as a man with chiseled black hair come into the view eyeing the other one carefully but also with dark expression.

“ And who may you be to say so?” Loki scoffed watching the newly arrived man with the mix of curiosity and condescending “who dare to stand against me?”

“I am Dream of the Endless. King of Dreams. Ruler of the nightmare realm.”

“Oh, Lord Morphues than” Loki grinned but the smile did not reach his eyes which stayed cold

“I presume you’ve heard about me.”

“Asgardian’s stories. I remember them vaguely.” Loki raised his head and his horny helmet and green robes appeared in the place of the plain ones making him look more royal and dignified “But if you’re here what does it mean?”

“So conceited yet so unbright” Morphues spoke coldly facing Loki’s grimace. Before the Asgardian said anything more Dream Lord added “you are dreaming. You are a paradox. You should not even be here. You…. Died.”

“That was another timeline. Before I jumped the version of myself from the past here.” The god waived his hand casually

“You did what?”

“Who’s unbright now, Dream Lord?”

“Watch your tongue, God of Mischief. You are still in my domain.”

“Seems like somewhere I could fit right in.”

“ Someone said that to me before and it did not end well for him.”

“Oh yes, one of your nightmares. What was his name? Corinthian, I suppose?”

“How do you know that.”

“You see, Dream Lord, you have your tricks and mind games and I have mine. So really there’s no way for you to intimidate me.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh, I’m sure. You want to bet on that?”

“I do not…. Bet. Albeit I made an exception for my sister.”

“Nice family relationship, huh? My sister tried to kill me and my brother and as a result blew up my home planet.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Interesting choice of words, Dream King. But … yes, it was quite unfortunate indeed”

“My other sibiling tried to annihilate me too. Desire.”

“Oh? Can’t imagine why” Loki mocked “you are truly a delight to be around.”

Both men were still eyeing each other but the previous tension was now a bit less noticeable as they discovered some similarities between them.

“No. I hurt a lot of people and beings that were close to me. Like my Raven.”

“A raven? How wonderful. I had an alligator version of myself, once. A real predatory animal.”

“You can’t possibly imagine how predatory this bird can me. I used it my challenge in hell.”

“Hell?”

“Yes.” Morphues’ eyes went a bit blurry at the memory “Snake-devouring, talons ripping….. Except Matthew, he’s more…. domesticated.”

“Who’s Matthew” Loki frowned “nevermind. I don’t even know why I keep this banter with you.”

“Because whether you like it or not we are alike.”

“Oh! Oh, oh,oh!” Loki gave a short, mocking laugh “you are nothing like me. I have been through too much to even start this comparison.”

“You lost your mother, your brother and you life….” Morpheus trailed

“Stop it!”

“you did not succeed in fulfilling your so-called glorious purpose….”

“I’m warning you Dream Lord…..” the god’s face reddened slightly

“And now, from what I now you are trapped in some agency called……”

“TVA”

“Right. TVA.”

“I still don’t know how does that make us similar.”

“I …..” Morpheus stuttered but upon Loki’s gaze gathered himself “your effort, however futile are…. Interesting. I… may have had some struggles myself, feeling like ….. nothing at some point. Observing you was …. Uplifting. “

“Uplifling?” Loki hissed “Watching?! Do you think I’m your toy to play with?! I AM A GOD YOU….”

“Enough, Asgardian. I came to bring you relief in your sleeping hours.”

“I don’t need any help from you!”

“And yet, I am not asking. I am giving you a gift and you shall accept it.”

“Over my dead body!”

“Seems to me like we would be seeing each other more often now, God of Mischief. After all, it was my sister who pointed me towards you.”

“Oh, here we go again with the family drama.” Loki rolled his eyes “It’s like bantering with Thor…. Back… in the days” his voice broke a little

“My sister” Dream emphasized the word “Death. Mentioned something about you being lonely…”

“What now?! You sure you're not talking about yourself? If the stories are true you spend over a cantury locked up in some amateur, fumbler, self-appointed magus. How was that?"

Morphues said no word but his eyes turned a bit glassy.

"Don't you dare, Asgardian."

"I'll tell you how it felt - helpless, raging inside, planing your revenge on everyone responsible for the situation, pathetic...."

"You are forgetting yourself."

"Nah, I'm speakign from experience. When I first arrived at TVA they locked me away and kept inprisoned, so .... been there, done that. Whatever" he shook head getting rid of the memories. "What did your lovely sister ask you for? Perhaps I can try to change her mind?"

“Coming into contact with you. She sensed this … familiarization may enrich as both. “

“I cannot possibly imagine that.”

“Then we agree on something, Asgard God. However, I will visit you again. As for now, this dream is over”.

Loki opened his eyes and found himself on the desert in the middle of nowhere in time and space, Sylvie sitting nearby.

“You were talking in your sleep.” She spat

“Really? What was I saying?”

“Something about God of Dreams?” she tilted her head frowning at her companion “oh, did you make friend during your little slumber? That is just adorable….”.

First it was the attitude of Morpheus and now mocking tone of the woman and Loki just couldn’t take it anymore.

“He is not my friend!!”

“Too bad, Death was right. Both you and her brother are in desperate need of one….”

She turned her head away, chuckling slightly leaving Loki with hundred of questions. Death came to contact with Sylvie? What the hell was all of this about?!

@somest1

@pinksirensong

#the sandman #sandman #morpheus x reader #loki #loki laufeyson #dream of the endless #marvel #loki x reader #marvel mcu #sandman x marvel #morpheus x mcu

69 notes · View notes

keilemlucent · 4 years ago

Text

“i’m here”

NSFW (minors dni)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

word count: ~2.2k

keigo comes home and you’ve both got old wounds on the surface

warnings: sex-based breakdown/panic, depictions of ptsd, safe-wording, trauma (😎), vague descriptions of dissociation

a/n: hey folks, mind the tags! this is some vulnerable, self-indulgent hurt/comfort. i’m a bit shy posting this one BUT all the same enjoy <3

Keigo cared.

You could tell, so easily. It radiated around him when you were together, this aura that he never carried publicly. It was saved for you, a different type of adoration and tenderness that solely belonged between the two of your souls.

It was never acknowledged, but felt, and that quiet recognition was enough.

There were things you couldn’t tell him, not yet and fuck, maybe you never would. Everyone has their demons, and you knew Keigo had plenty of secrets he kept to him.

(How many times did you help him pluck and preen feathers still wet with blood? He assured you it was never his, but that didn’t ease the knot in your gut.)

It was just boundaries, maybe. Maybe. The things you couldn’t, wouldn’t tell each other. Little lines drawn to keep the two of you safe from your pains. Better to lock them up than share them, right?

Except, things are never that simple and ills hate staying hidden for too long.

...

He’d been gone for a while. A mission far off and secret.

By proxy, Keigo had come home haggard and hungry.

For you.

He entered your home and without pause, he was on you.

He tossed you into bed. His wings flared out wide and ruffled. It made him look bigger than he was, and the light in his eyes had a starved gleam that sent your heart racing.

You tried to ignore his new, plentiful bruises and bumps. The colors bloomed over his skin, even in the near dark of the bedroom.

What does he do when he’s away?

It was better to not ask questions.

He ravaged you, naturally. How could he not? He’d been gone for weeks, sending you the nastiest, most yearning texts. Nothing too long, but little notes that communicated how much he missed you, how much he fucking needed you.

And he was certainly showing you.

His lips were over yours, nipping and sucking and devouring you in every sense of the word. Hands tugged and ripped your clothes off, his nails long and unmanicured with his mission. They weren’t quite pointed, but they were still too sharp to be scratching down your ribs.

It was all a bit too much, a bit too fast, but you tried to catch up the best you could.

“Keigo—” You sputtered as he bit his way down to your breasts, tugging on a nipple with his teeth.

“Hush,” His voice sounded far too low and it made your stomach flip (in the worst way oh my god). “I’ll take care of you. Doesn’t that sound nice, dove?”

The pet name should’ve soothed you.

(‘Should’ve’.)

Your inside did flips as he trailed lower.

Your mind was going lower too.

Mentally, you scrambled, clawing for a ledge to ground yourself on. Sensation whirled, pleasure and fear mixing into some fucked up cocktail in the front of your psyche.

Why are you so scared?

Your heart pounded, nearly ached in your chest as Keigo played with your clit over your panties.

It should’ve felt good.

His tousled hair was so fucking pretty. Keigo was gorgeous in every way, the wings were just a part of his visage. You were so lucky, so privileged to have him looking at your cunt so hungrily.

You’re so scared.

Why are you scared?

(You knew why, you just didn’t want to remember any more than you needed to. But that wasn’t really in your control, was it?)

You felt like you were falling as Keigo cleanly licks your cunt through your panties, soaking the cotton with his drool.

No, no, no.

Tears pricked your eyes as he pulled aside your panties, just enough to get a look, going in for a taste—

NO, NO, NO—

“N-no. Stop.” You gasped the words, cringing at how they broke in your throat. “Keigo, s-stop.”

Keigo froze immediatly, gaze flickering up to your face before his expression fell hard and fast.

No, no, no, you made him upset.

Dumbass.

He shot up, wings folding tight to his back. You scrambled up on the bed, arms wrapping around your shoulders. They shook in your grasp, you shook in your own hold as you tried to comfort yourself. Your breath was coming too fast and hard, but that was another issue entirely. You tucked into yourself tighter and let your vision go blurry in the ripples of the sheets.

Keigo sat in front of you, eyes wide and lips parted in terror and unsure words.

“I’m so s-sorry,” His hands folded in his lap. So tense they looked painful.

You shook your head, laughing, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

You just couldn’t do this right now.

“Can I help?”

You didn’t reply for a moment, trying to reign in your racing mind.

Truly, Keigo didn’t do anything wrong. Maybe moved a bit too fast, but nothing out of the ordinary. You’d done this song and dance so many times, you loved it. Most of the time.

Sometimes, someone with your secrets had bad days that made you scared of the people that love you the most.

A thick sludge burrowed in the back of your throat as you shook your head.

Thinking felt too hard.

“Not yet,” you choked out rubbing at your cheeks. The tears smeared over your cheeks, turning them hot and angry as the rabbit’s heart buried in your chest. .

Keigo hovered, unsure.

It wasn’t like him not to know what to do. He was intuitive and saw through people easily, even if he didn’t say it. And he knew you particularly well. Very well. Little details about you and your being were tucked away in his mind, always brought out in key moments.

“Dovey?” He asked softly, like trying not to startle a terrified animal (isn’t that what you were?) “Do you want me to go?”

“N-no,” The words burst from your lips as your chest squeezed so tight, you could’ve checked. “No, no, no, please don’t go.”

You gagged on air and slammed back into the headboard.

Sure, the odd mix of emotions and very unwelcome memories was rawing your mind and body from the inside out. Sure, Keigo knew nothing of what you were experiencing. This was private, all of this part of you held far away from him. This was your burden. You had therapy, and self-help books, and deep breathing.

But, none of that was working. Instead, you were staring down your lover, helpless.

Your eyes flickered to the nightstand.

“Water?”

Keigo was already sending off a flurry of feathers to freshen up the liquid in the glass.

Good start.

Keigo’s hands twitched, wings restless as he regarded you. His breaths were even and solid, counted and practiced to keep himself calm in the face of your panic.

A chilled glass was delivered to you by a bundle of feathers. You snatched it, holding it to your cheeks before taking a few fat gulps.

Slow down.

You’re going too fast.

“Little sips,” Keigo reminded you, voice soft.

You pulled back, looking at him in your hazy vision, “Little sips?”

You tried again, taking a smaller sip, swishing the water in your mouth before swallowing.

“Was that good?” You looked at him, inching closer to him

He nodded, golden and glowing, “Very good.”

The praise was a little bit of salve for a much larger wound, but it felt wonderful nonetheless.

Keigo wasn’t the issue.

He wasn’t, truly. You knew that, despite all the swirling fear.

The only issue with Keigo was that he suddenly felt too far away.

You gave him a desperate little look, hands itching across the covers.

He noticed because of course he fucking did.

(Thank fucking god.)

“I’m here.”

It was a reminder, a needed one.

Keigo, your kind, sweet partner was not the memories swirling his mind. He didn’t hurt you, he didn’t harm you.

“... Yeah?” You sniffled.

“I am.” His face was soft, softer than you’d ever seen. The pre-mature wrinkles looked too deep in the moonlight. His eyes looked too old, too worn, as he silently acknowledged those goddamn demons without a word. A little, rumbling coo broke from the back of his throat and felt yourself relax with the sound.

And, fuck, bless him—

Keigo gave you a soft smile that felt like warm honey in spiced tea that seeps into the cracks between your ribs.

“Hold me?” You finally asked, words shaking but not hesitant.

He nodded, and before you could comprehend, he was tugging you down into the sheets, pulling you to his chest and squeezing. It wasn’t rough treatment, but it was firm, grounding at the very fucking least. His arm wrapped around your middle, pulling you to his chest and holding you there. Your cheek squished against the chill of the cooling sweat over his sternum, a shaking breath finally coming slow enough to give you a bit of ease.

“Is this okay?” Keigo asked, one of his wings adjusted to barely ghost over your bodies.

You pressed closer, greedy and scared, “More. Tighter. Please.”

Keigo wasn’t one to deny you.

His grip got firmer, fingers stroking up and down your spine in time with his own slow breathing. The wing over you relaxed, bearing down just enough to be comfortable. It was maybe a little too much. You dealt with it, let the weight of Keigo be next to you and over you because he was good. You were good or going to be. You clung to the thought.

“You’re safe, I promise.”

You clung to that thought too. Keigo was good and safe. You believed him if only a little bit.

You hoped Keigo knew that this wasn’t about him. That the poisonous memories and awful thoughts weren’t about him, rather than he’d caught their thin, nearly invisible tripwire.

You’re safe, why are you panicking?

Because sometimes this just happens.

You pressed your nose between his pecs, tucking a hand between the roots of his wings. It made him startle; the area was sensitive. He quickly relaxed and went back to petting your back and taking deep breaths.

The two of you laid for a long time, surrounded by each other's breathing and grounding in the heat of the sheets and the white noise of the world. You remained in some sort of a daze for most of it, the memories fading, but just leaving you numb and out of it.

“More water?” Keigo asked, tentatively kissing your clammy forehead.

You nodded, sitting up slowly and rubbing a hand over your cheeks. The air felt less suffocating, your mind calmer, but you still felt like shit—

“Drink,” Keigo brought the glass to your lips with a combination of his hands and feathers.

You gulped down half of the freshened water, letting a bit dribble past the corner of your lips. The leftovers were swept away by your thumb and rubbed in your hot cheeks. The cold was a grounding, and the world was finally stilling as you needed it to.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” You met Keigo’s gaze from where he sat across from you. He sat upright and on his knees, hands and wings folded to his center. The posture made him look smaller as he watched you. His bright eyes took you in as well as they could, but you could sense he was still a little on edge.

Your words made his brows shoot up.

“I should be telling you that, not the other way around,” Keigo bit his lip and frowned.

You snatched his hands in yours, “We both need it. I need you to know I’m not upset.”

“You... should be. At least a little.”

You gave a little shake of your head, thick in your resolve.

Keigo stayed silent before taking a deep breath, wings readjusting with thought, “I suppose you don’t want to talk about it?”

“I... I don’t,” Maybe sometime, but not now. “But, I still need you to know you didn’t do anything wrong. It just moved too fast for me and I got...”

You lost your words and your vision went hazy at the bedsheets once more.

“Overwhelmed?” He finished your sentence with a squeeze of your hands.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s the word,” You shook your head. “I’m still not feeling great.”

“That’s okay, “ Keigo assured you with another squeeze. “Can I help at all?”

You shook your head once more.

Not right now, not more than you’ve already done.

“Just be here, if that’s okay? Like you have been.” You fully intertwined your fingers, noticing the remnants of something dark under his fingernails. More than likely dirt, but it was still a reminder. “It’s just nice to have you close.”

Everyone has their demons.

“Can I still kiss you?” Keigo asked as you dragged him under the covers.

You mussed on it, wondering if it would bring back the thick fog and panic.

“Only a little,” You told him, once again burying yourself in him. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much.”

It was more than enough for the two of you.

Keigo tilted your jaw up with his palm, giving you the gentlest kiss he could. His touch remained firm everywhere else, but he was tentative in giving you the space you needed.

He pulled away and you tuck yourself under his chin.

“Thank you.”

Keigo’s wing stretched over you, blocking out whatever thoughts and ills clawed toward you. In a wordless squeeze, he said all that needed to.

‘Of course.’

#salem writes #hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #tw ptsd #tw trauma #if y'all read and think there should be other warnings added #please shoot me an ask or a message #i wasn't sure i was gonna post this one but #here we are #enjoy lovies <3

691 notes · View notes