#snippets and bits

[mothfables]

Without warning, Ravio scoops Legend up off the ground, one arm under his hips for support. The other boy squawks, flushing bright red as he stammers in surprise.

“You’re tired, honeybee. Pretend all you like, but I can see it in your eyes.” That shuts him up and he bites his lip, glancing away. Ravio looks around at the rest of them. “You all make yourselves at home. I’m going to put this one to bed.”

With that, he starts towards the stairs, Legend beginning to protest loudly as he goes. The other heroes muffle their laughter.

“I’m perfectly capable of going to bed by myself! You don’t need to carry me like I’m some helpless little —!”

“You’re going to bed, and you’re going to stay there, or I’ll have Sheerow watch you to make sure you don’t try anything.”

“You keep that bird away from me!”

[zombubble]

For this blog's inaugural Six-Sentence Saturday, I present to you all this snippet from chapter one of In Memory; In Truth:

“It never ceases to horrify,” Lan Zhan says softly, “one merely becomes more adept at handling it.” Sizhui says, “I see. I wonder, why us, though? Why did Mo-gongzi hide us and not people who needed help more than we did?” “That ghost’s power rendered you and the non-cultivators equal,” Lan Zhan says. Given the evidence—how quickly it arrived and tore through a household, the ease with which this thing slaughtered over a hundred people and the sense of power to which bystanders have attested—the juniors stood no better chance than even the least of the Mo Family’s servants. “In the aftermath of such a thing, cultivators are of more benefit. Such slaughter often leads to great resentment.”

I would have posted it earlier but I forgot to make the banner this week and wanted to do that, first. As it is, I have 9 minutes until Saturday ends where I am, and so this is Technically On Time.

[cashmere-caveman]

today it rained for the first time in ages and ive got my window tilted to let in the cool air and i just heard a woman's voice say "hey i found another puddle!" followed by a little child's happy shriek followed by a big splash sound i absolutely love being alive i hope that kid has so much fun bc i am already thriving just listening to it all

[aroaceleovaldez]

i have suddenly become obsessed with a theme that HoO established but never proceeded to extrapolate on, which is:

You are Percy Jackson, and you have been swapped with a boy who was allegedly everyone's favorite person, but they have decided to replace him with you. They just met you. You stand next to his best friend and the people he's known his entire life. In his home. In his cloak. In his place. They stopped looking for him.

You are Jason Grace, and you have just found out you have a long lost sister who completely replaced you in her life with this girl you just met. Your lives and personalities are mirrors. She is you, living the life you were robbed of.

You are Annabeth Chase, and you have just become starkly aware that you have been inhabiting the void left behind by your best friend's long lost brother. You and Luke were just replacements for him. Now you have to look him in the eyes when he has nothing and know you took that life from him.

You are Piper McLean, and you have just found out your relationship is fake and built entirely on the memories of Annabeth Chase. You have been given a boyfriend when hers has been taken away. You have no idea how much of it is real or not but regardless you feel like if your relationship isn't exactly in their image that you have failed.

You are Leo Valdez, and you have just learned that you are the echo of your great-grandfather. You are not your own person. You just exist to be a mirror of him. A doppelganger. An actor and stunt double facing all the danger he never had to but wearing his face. To be there for his best friend decades later simply because he couldn't. You are playing a role. A seventh wheel and a pawn for a goddess who carefully sculpted your entire life for her own purposes.

You are Hazel Levesque, and the only reason you are alive is because your brother couldn't save your his sister. You are a consolation prize. An apology. Your existence here is misplaced in every way but you inhabit it anyways.

You are Frank Zhang, and you are a shapeshifter. Inhabiting your own body feels strange and clumsy when you could be literally anything at any time. You are anything and everything and live your life with the simple certainty of knowing exactly how you will die.

[cubedmango]

「安達が魔法使いにならなかった世界線の話」 + 「もしもの話」 — english translation

[wispscribbles]

why are you and your drawings so cool 😭🙏

afdsasdfasg thank you !! irl ppl would laugh at me being called cool lol - Have a ghoap as thanks <33

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The hero let out a wet groan, pushing themselves up as the blood ran down their side. It was in itself a funny feeling.

It was a good feeling.

Absolutely no one in this rotten city was able to challenge them. Physically, they were stronger. Mentally, they were quicker. And their dedication, their devotion was like a holy prayer that guided them through their nights.

The hero knew it wasn't a good thing - the longing for a challenge, the desire for an opponent that could actually make them a better fighter. It was a dangerous wish and they had to remind themselves regularly why they were doing this job in the first place.

To do good. To be good. Not to find someone who was their very own nemesis.

However, with the villain's boot on their ribs and that brutal nature of theirs, the hero was struggling not to find this utterly satisactory.

"Yeah, right there," the hero wheezed. "Make me scream."

The villain tilted their head and tutted, nearly bored of the hero's games. They let out a sigh and grabbed the hero's hair, yanking them up.

Another wheeze.

And the villain crouched, holding the hero by their hair. Very close. Very intimate.

"Do you think I am stupid?" the villain asked. Their lips brushed the hero's ear and despite the pain, or maybe because of it, the hero could only concentrate on the adrenaline rushing through their body.

"No," the hero said. They had to grin. Sometimes, they wished they could devour the villain, that they could change them and ultimately, that they could control them.

The hero knew it wasn't right. They knew it wasn't good. But they had never felt this kind of obsession towards anyone. In previous relationships, they hadn't gotten jealous, they hadn't gotten angry. They had never struggled like this. They had never doubted themselves like this.

"I know your dirty little secret," the villain said. "I know you like me. You like this."

"I didn't try to hide it," the hero said.

"Not from me. But the public."

"What are you trying to...?"

"Oh, poor hero," the villain murmed. "See, the difference between you and me is, that I do not care about you. If this gets to one, just one flimsy reporter, the people will turn against you. I can ruin your entire career. Your entire life."

The hero had miscalculated. Obviously, they hadn't expected their nemesis to feel the same. But they also hadn't expected them to tell the public. To use the public against the hero. It was a little shameless. But the hero was even more disgusted by their admiration for it.

"So?" the hero asked. Losing the public was a detrimental loss, that much was clear. But was it even measurable next to the fights with the villain? Did it even matter? When the hero could feel this euphoric? This alive? When had the public ever made them feel that way? "I would still have you."

"I do not love you," the villain argued. "You're not as important to me as you think."

"Give it some time," the hero said. "You will love me, don't worry. Everyone does."

The villain simply laughed at that. It was nearly soft. Or maybe the hero wanted it to be. It didn't matter.

"I have to admit, I am quite interested in what you have in store for me. How will you act once the public calls you a traitor? What will you do when I refuse to fight you? You are-" with their index finger, the villain traced the hero's thoat "-so very unique."

"Is that attraction?"

"Obligatory interest."

"And you say you're not in love."

They stared at each other until, finally, the villain dropped them. They cleared their throat and tilted their head. But the hero swallowed blood when their head nearly smashed against the concrete floor.

"I like toying with you, that is all."

"Sure," the hero said. They clutched their heart, tried to breathe. Being close to the villain was a gift, no matter how much it hurt. The hero loved it, loved their words, loved their personality, loved the challenge. It was insane, the hero felt completely deranged. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

And the hero was excited. So very excited for the next weeks.

[sandflakedraws]

so i'm readin various stuff on the xray cause this silly film is my current source of joy and

wait

hold up.

what...

WAHT ??? WHAT

XRAY CAST DESCRIPTION????

YEARS???

xrAY dESCRIPTION eXPLaIN!!! WHAT DO YOU MEAN FLOYD WAS HELD CAPTIVE FOR YEARS, WHAT SECRET INFO DO U HAVE ACCESS TO???

[warmsol]

cleaning out my screenshot folder, don't mind me 🧹

[shaanks]

okay BUT think about the way Shanks acts when you kiss him. The way he giggles into it at first, grinning against your lips with all the playful, casual joy that made you fall in love with him to begin with.

The way he wraps his arm around you, pulls you close, hums softly when it's clear you're not letting go, the way he breathes so slowly as the weight of it settles in his chest, soft and warm and soothing. The way he seems to pull all the breath out of you when he deepens it, the way the wind seems to tug at you like the whole world turns on your shared heartbeat.

think about the way his eyes glisten with something so tender it's almost wounded when you pull away just enough to tell him you love him. that of every soul alive and every treasure at sea, he's the one you want.

think about how Shanks is so easy and indulgent and giving with his affection, but rocked to his core by how freely and honestly you give him yours.

[clare-with-no-i]

rick doesn't get him like I get him I fear

[mothfables]

@cripple-cat

Four was sitting against one of the trees behind Wild’s house enjoying a book when he heard footsteps approaching.

Most of the time the other heroes left him alone when he was reading, acknowledging his need for time to himself, only tending to bother him if he was needed for something. Whoever it was coming towards him now didn’t seem to want his attention- in fact it seemed like they didn’t want him to notice them at all, steps quiet and careful.

Glancing up from his book he saw Legend, tiptoeing barefoot through the grass towards him.

Legend looked up at almost the same time and froze, the veteran hero’s eyes going wide. After a moment he glanced around, like he was making sure there was no one else outside, before scurrying over the rest of the way to where Four sat. Four noted he was still walking on his toes.

When he reached the smith, Legend didn’t sit but instead swayed in place, licking his lips nervously and not meeting his eyes.

“Uh- um. Could you, um.” He stuttered, staring at his toes instead of looking at Four. He began fidgeting with his fingers, and Four realized they were bare of his usual array of rings, leaving only his heart and green holy rings. “I was, um, w-wondering if...”

He trailed off, voice quiet and shy in a way Four had never heard before from the older boy. His shoulders were hunched inwards and he kept playing with his hands, ears tilted down. He looked... small.

Four tilted his head in thought. Legend rarely initiated interactions outside of teasing or bets, and when he did it was usually confident and sure. He was hardly ever shy, and certainly never so quiet.

The longer neither of them spoke the further down Legend’s ears went. He began to turn away, drawing into himself dejectedly, and something in Four’s chest clenched.

“Hey, hold on. I haven’t said no yet. You haven’t even asked me anything.”

Legend turned back at that, a tiny flicker of hope in his eyes that he was trying hard to hide. “B-but you, um, y-you dun’ like it wh’n people b’ther you.”

Four ignored the odd way he was speaking in favour of giving him a reassuring smile. “Normally, yes, But you’re not bothering me. Promise,” he added at Legend’s doubtful look. “What it is you want to ask me?”

Legend bit his lip nervously. “C-could you... couldyoureadtome?” he asked in a rush.

The smith blinked in astonishment. Legend wanting to spend time with him was already a surprise, but wanting to be read to? He shook it off quickly, though, instead patting the ground on his left with another smile. “Sure. Come sit with me? It’s always nicer to read when you’re sitting down, in my opinion.”

The other boy lit up and bounced happily, dropping down to sit next to Four and drawing his knees up to his chest. Four found where he left off before beginning to read aloud.

A few minutes passed where the only sounds were Four’s voice and the chirping of birds. Then there was a pressure on his shoulder; glancing over, he saw Legend curled up against his side, eyes fixed on the book in his hands. One of Legend’s hands drifted up to his mouth almost subconsciously only to be snatched back down.

The whole thing was a little odd, but it didn’t seem harmful, so Four decided to let it be. He continued reading, leaning his head on the other boy’s and earning a happy little sound. Legend curled closer, one hand clutching at Four’s sleeve as the other came up to his mouth again. He didn’t seem to notice.

[wordsofwilderness]

Found this beauty in my writing notes:

[potionbarrel]

science team-tober day 8: misfire

(you can read the accompanying fic for today's prompt here!)

prompt list | science team-tober sideblog

[livesincerely]

Jack’s hauling all six feet of Davey’s deadweight back to his car, trying to shove his lanky, drunken, noodle limbs into the passenger seat—Jesus Christ, he really is all leg, ain’t he?—when Davey kisses him.

Jack freezes. Goes perfectly still, frozen in place, as panic pierces his chest like a shot to the heart.

Because Davey is drunk, drunker than drunk, really, his mouth warm and soft and a little sloppy against his own. He tastes like salt and tequila and that last round of fireball shots Racetrack ordered for the table, tastes like everything Jack’s ever wanted and nothing he’s allowed to have.

Davey makes soft, unhappy noise in the back of his throat, then loops clumsy arms around Jack’s neck and tugs him closer: stubborn, insistent, and drunk, so fucking drunk, because Jack knows better than to think he’d ever do this sober.

But he smells so good—like coconut conditioner and the fancy fabric softener he insists on and Davey—and he fits so perfectly in Jack’s arms and he’s kissing Jack like he wants him. Right here in the parking lot, half in and half out of the passenger seat of Jack’s car, with nothing but the buzzing street lamps overhead to notice Jack’s heart cracking into tiny little pieces.

Davey sighs against his lips, his fingers curling gently around the nape of his neck, and Jack knows.

Knows he shouldn’t. Knows it’s a mistake. Knows that Davey—clever, gorgeous, wonderful Davey—won’t remember this in the morning, and Jack will never, not ever forget.

But he’s only human. He’s just a man, hopelessly in love with his best friend.

And for just a moment, he kisses him back.

00000

Jack forces himself to pull away. Davey looks up at him with big, blue pleading eyes, his mouth wet and red and perfect, his cheeks pink from the rasp of Jack’s stubble.

“Why’d you stop?” Davey mumbles, a swirly curl of hair falling over his forehead. Jack’s heart skips in his chest. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

“Dave, I—“ What can he say? What can he possibly say?

He needs to apologize, needs to beg for forgiveness because Davey might be drunk off his ass but Jack absolutely is not, had a half a beer and a single shot, so there’s no excuse to fall back on. There’s no excuse for this.

Davey pats him on the shoulder with all the coordination of a wet mop head.

“‘S okay,” he says. “I don’t want to kiss you either.”

Jack’s pretty sure a baseball bat to the back of the head would hurt less.

He wants to stumble away as quickly as he can, wants to see if Kath and Sarah are still out front waiting for their Uber and if they’d take Davey home instead if he asked really, really nicely and walked away before they could ask him any questions.

Instead he sucks in a steadying breath. Carefully reaches around Davey to buckle in his seatbelt.

“There’s this guy,” Davey says, hushed like he’s sharing a secret. “I wanna kiss him all— all the time. He’s handsome and funny and way smarter than he gives himself credit for and— and he’s just the best, you know?”

Jack does not know. Jack would rather be force-fed his own liver than know any of this.

He starts manually lifting Davey’s legs into the footwells. Tucks his feet in so they don’t block the car door.

“His name’s Jack.”

Jack stops. Wonders, for just a second, if maybe someone did hit him over the head, actually, because—

Because the last ten minutes have been a fucking rollercoaster and he might have the world’s first genuine case of emotional whiplash, but—

His name is Jack.

His name is Jack, right?

[save-the-villainous-cat]

ruthless hero who destroys everyone verbally, doesnt take shit + chatty villain who just grins and loves banter(if its not too much) have a great day!

The hero swallowed.

Although the gun was shaking in their hand, they took in a deep breath and steadied their mind. No time for second thoughts.

This was it. They’d been searching for the villain for weeks now. They’d finally found them and they were not going to let them escape again.

“Oh?” the villain asked. They eyed the hero carefully, as if the hero was the object of their attention instead of the gun. They were sitting on the couch in their lair with all the casualness in the world. “Aren’t you a little too confident for your own good, darling?”

“Aren’t you?”

The villain cocked their head and the grin followed as so often. They stood up slowly and raised their hands but despite their actions of surrender, they were clearly mocking the hero.

“Mhmm. That’s how it is, I see. How spunky you can be…”

Determined, the hero took their handcuffs and threw them into the villain’s direction. Even though the villain seemed to be more confused than intrigued, they caught and inspected them.

“Cuff yourself,” the hero said.

“Gosh, you can be so kinky.”

“And you’ll be bleeding out in a few seconds if you don’t do as I say.” Their grip around the gun tightened. It didn’t matter that the villain had saved them so many times. It didn’t matter that they were occasionally nice.

It didn’t matter because the hero had a job to do.

They had to arrest them.

The villain rolled their eyes.

“All bark, no bite.”

“Would you like to find out? I recall breaking your arm pretty easily,” the hero said. They were aiming at the villain’s shoulder and slowly, very slowly, their anxiousness faded. It was a job like every other.

A villain, just like all the others.

Shooting at them in this moment seemed irrational. They weren’t a threat nor were they extraordinarily provoking them. Of course the hero knew it would be difficult to explain to the team how the villain had surrendered without much of a struggle.

They had to find a solution to that later.

“Mistakes happen in the heat of the moment. I understand you were distracted by my muscles flexing during the fight.” The villain was in a good mood, as so often. But the hero could also sense some sort of uncertainty.

It was in the movement of their fingers that traced the handcuffs. In their restless eyes that went over the hero again and again. If they wanted to admit it or not, the hero had surprised them.

And that was something the villain absolutely despised. Surprises. Not being in control. Not knowing what happens next.

“I can assure you it was intentional. Your muscles aren’t that special.”

“Ouch.” The villain contorted their face as if they were truly hurt. The mockery should’ve made it easier. But it didn’t.

The hero turned off the gun’s safety.

“Handcuffs. Now.”

“Fine.” The villain cuffed themselves, one wrist after the other. Once they were finished, they stretched their arms out and presented themselves. “Am I not the sweetest present?”

“The most annoying, definitely. Sit down.” The villain did as the hero commanded and leaned back, pushing their hips forward. Lounging like that was definitely not what the hero wanted them to do.

They’d been chasing the villain for weeks and they were determined to put them behind bars. Whatever had happened in the past, it was gone now. The hero had let go of it and could only pray the villain had done that too.

“We’ll wait here until my team arrives.”

“I suppose that’s enough time for me to escape. You know you love our little hide-and-seek game.” Their smile was genuine and sweet. The hero didn’t know what to make of that.

“No, this is it. It’s over. I can’t let you go.”

“But you will. You’re still so soft for me.”

“You’re really not as important to me as you think.” Then why are you hesitating?

“You’re not as cold as you think,” the villain said. “Not when it comes to me.”

They jiggled with the handcuffs. The hero could hear their own pulse.

“Just tell your team it was a good fight and I escaped, hm? Just like last time,” the villain suggested. Sweat was running down the hero’s back. Their fingers were ice cold.

“I cannot do that.”

“You’ve done it before, darling,” the villain said. “As long as I can walk, I can still escape. You know I’m skilled enough to do that.”

“Then why are you still here?”

“I enjoy my time with you,” the villain said. They looked at the ground. “…and I still have feelings for you.”

The hero felt sick in their stomach.

“I wish you hadn’t said that.” Suddenly, the hero lowered their gun and pulled the trigger. They couldn’t let them escape again. They couldn’t put their own feelings before their responsibilities. As soon as they pulled the trigger, they regretted it.

Their heavy heart sank fast.

They hoped one day they could forget the villain’s reaction when the bullet entered their knee. That stare of utter fear and betrayal. That scream and those tears of pain.

But that would haunt them forever.