#sounds of sonar man

[narwhalandchill]

genuinely want nothing more than just one chance in my life to offer my heartfelt respect and utter admiration to whichever absolute genius maniac over at hoyomix just. got told to make a track for when a pissed off cosmic world-devouring narwhal eats you in order to let a dude in its stomach hunt you for sport and proceeded to understand the assignment with nothing short of perfection by going. Hey what if insane fucking dubstep that by itself is disorienting and otherwordly but its Also "sounds that (toothed) whales make when theyre about to fucking murder you.mp3" like . YOU GET IT. YOU GET IT.

[sonarsunbeam]

seriously considering changing my url

[confused-wanderer]

The entire superman family has at one point just picked up one of the batfam and flown them in the sky to force them to rest.

Bats were such active creatures. And each of the batfam never rested, never took breaks. It was like Gotham was constantly humming to them, constantly talking to them on where to go and who to help.

The city was always colourful, always too many sounds from different directions, explosions of light and crimes that kept each of them moving no matter how long it had been, no matter how injured they were.

It started when Kon was frustrated.

He’d noticed Tim hadn’t gotten any sleep for the past week or so, the other man contently focused on tracking down seventy three gang members all by himself. He was also working on a plan to frame three mafia families to land them behind bars, and solve twelve unsolved mysteries somehow related with the whole mess.

And he’s tried so hard to reason with Tim. To try and trick him into taking a nap. But he swore Tim could hear something in the city he couldn’t. Gotham and the bats communicated with sonar, he speculated because somehow Tim always had somewhere to go, somewhere to be.

So when he’s had enough, he just swooped up the other man, flying high enough that the sound of the city disappeared. It was bright and clamouring one second, silent and dark the next.

Tim’s tense, he’s probably yelling at Kon to put him down and smacking him with the pole but Kon couldn’t hear him over trying to figure out what to do next that wouldn’t earn him a kryptonite shaped hole in his chest.

But after a few minutes he shivers, curling closer to Kon as the winds whip past them. And in the silence of the night, as time slowly ticks by, he notices Tim’s grip on his shoulder slowly lessening, before it finally falls slack.

He waits for a bit, listening to Tim’s heartbeat until it finally steadies and slows, gently cradling the other man as he silently slips into the manor, and sets him down in bed. He does let the other bats know Tim’s asleep (they’re an overprotective bunch although very few would actually admit it)

And when he’s back with Superman, Clark grumbling about how he’s so close to just knocking Bruce out himself, Kon just gives him the same advice. Gotham’s sonar is silenced, everything else falling silent.

And it works.

Somehow, if you disconnect the bats from their city for more than five minutes each, every single one of them will succumb to sleep. It’s like all the noise and constant rush that’s been in their minds is flipped off and they’re left above their worries, nothing pressing to keep them moving so they drop fast asleep.

Supergirl jokes that they’re like actual bats in that way. You hang them up high when it’s time for them to rest. None of the batfam is amused.

[skylarsblue]

✦Meeting & Flirting W/ The C.o.D Men✦

(Five scenes were gn!reader meets, flirts, and eventually gets with the C.o.D guys. You can thank Gaz & a Doja Cat song for this)

✧Gaz, Price, Soap, & Ghost. The others will come later✧ ✦Flirting, light sexual tension here and there, basically just fluff, some mild descriptions of wounds/war, no specified appearance but I do hint that you're shorter than the guys here and there in a subtle manner. Sporadic use of Y/N that I apologize for. Random callsigns I made up on the spot.✦

✧Kyle "Gaz" Garrick✧

Laswell walked beside Price whilst leading the team out onto some tarmac. "I know you all are very competent, but this is a rather big mission, and so I wanted to give you backup I think you can depend on." She said calmly, coming to a stop, turning to the four men. Ghost crossed his arms and bit back a scoff. Kyle smiled for a split second because of it, though shrouded in mystery, it was no secret that Ghost hated working with others. A black jeep rolled up from a slight distance. Gaz wasn't too interested, he'd been tired all day and meeting new people sounded like a bit of a pain. He adjusted the hat on his head and kept his gaze on the ground, even when some footsteps approached. He glanced up at least, not paying any particular attention to the five individuals in front of him. Though he did give his full attention to Laswell when she began speaking. "Team 141, this is Team Sonar. They'll be working with you this upcoming mission, which we still need to go over." The woman explained. Their captain shook hands with price, an older man with dark hair and a broad white streak in the front. Two younger men stood to the side, Soap greeted them. One was blond and the other, a light brunette, they looked like twins. The fourth one was fairly androgynous, tall, eyes cast at the ground. Gaz was just about to look back at Laswell when his eyes fell on the last member. Dressed in black military gear, holding a rifle aimed at the ground, vest decorated in patches and a filtration-gas mask over the lower half of their face. They looked up and locked with his gaze, a spark let off in the air as soon as they did. Gaz rolled back his shoulders, pinching the inside of his cheek between his teeth. He watched their eyes scan him up, down, then slowly back up. By the way their eyes scrunched slightly, he could assume they were smiling, giving him one more quick once over. It was hard not to smile as well, especially when their eyes stuck to him whilst turning to face their captains. "Careful sergeant." Ghost's deep voice made Gaz jump. "Ahem, right." He mumbled, shifting his hat down a bit. Though he did risk stealing one more glance, feeling an ego boost when he caught them doing the same.

"You ever take that hat off?" They asked, leaning on the common room's table as he sat down, arms crossed. "I do, I just don't feel like it." Gaz shrugged, adjusting the ratty baseball cap on his head. "The flag is literally fallin' off, mate." They teased with a smile, reaching to nudge the brim, making it push down. Gaz snorted and took it off for a split second to fix it. He gasped when it was snatched from his hand, smiling when he saw their face covered in a cheeky grin, holding the hat away. "Alright, c'mon. Give it back." He insisted, holding out his hand. They hummed, tapping their chin whilst looking at the ceiling. "Nnnoo, no I don't think so." They replied with their tongue stuck out. Gaz tucked his tongue into his cheek and glared at them playfully. He laughed when they jerked back as he lunged for it, smiling more when they hid it behind their back. "Oh, playing dirty now?" Gaz asked, moving to snatch it once more, only to be dodged. "I think you look better without it, actually. I'm doing you a favor." They insisted, backing up more and more. He naturally followed. They reached up to put it on, chin tilted at an endearing angle. "Should just lemme have it." Gaz shook his head, although he did enjoy the sight of them wearing it. "Over my dead body, give it!" He laughed. They blocked his arm when he went to grab it one last time, reaching into the back pocket of their camo pants. Good thing about military pants? Big pockets. Gaz blinked in surprise when he felt a pressure on his skull, raising a hand to feel a different hat. He quickly took it off and looked at it. A baseball cap with a British flag and an embroidered "K.G.G" on the brim, in a dark green color. He gazed at it with some awe, feeling a quick wave of sentimental joy enter his system. "I think green is more your color." They said, prompting him to look at. He blinked when they booped him on the nose and then turned to walk away. "Hey, what about my original hat?!" Gaz called. They turned, walking backwards. "It's mine now! No take-backsies!!" They giggled, rotating on their heel. The man ran his tongue over his teeth as he chuckled in disbelief. He glanced once more at the hat before putting it on, shaking his head fondly.

(nsfw implication in this one; cause Y/N a bold bitch) Gaz hummed to the tune of his music as he sat on one of the chairs in the common room, waiting for time to pass until their next briefing. Listening to Y/N make themselves tea, occasionally passing conversation between them both. The topic now? Why he never used his actual name. "I guess I just don't really get it. It's not like it's a bad name." They said, pouring hot water into a mug. Gaz shrugged whilst scrolling through a playlist. "I used to like it, now I don't. A lot of people don't like their name." He answered, glancing over at them. They placed a teabag into the water and turned to look at him, hip leaned on the counter. "Yeah, I guess. But usually there's a reason if you specifically dislike it, ya know?" They retorted. Gaz nodded and adjusted in his seat. "I guess...I dunno, anytime I hear that name, it usually means somethings going wrong? Either someone's needing something from me or I'm like, in trouble? So, I prefer the nickname." He explained, looking back down at his phone whilst they threw away the tea bag. "Then it's not the name, it's what you associate hearing the name with! You just need to put a different context to it." They said, though their voice was a bit muffled by his earbuds now. He snorted. "Oh yeah? Well, lemme know if you got any ideas." He said sarcastically, not hearing them walk closer. "Let's try this then." Gaz jumped a bit when the earbud was pulled from his ear, replaced with the feeling of warm breath. Hot blood rose to Gaz's cheeks and neck as the cupped their hand around his ear. "Oh Kyle...~" His breath stopped at the sound of a very convincing moan, heart stuttering as they laughed quietly, gently putting the earbud back in his ear. They made it a point to lightly drag their fingers across his shoulders when walking around him. Gaz watched them walk away with wide eyes until they were out of sight. He then sunk in his seat, hand covering the lower half of his burning face. He forced in a deep breath. "Fuckin' hell..." He mumbled while replaying the sound in his brain. They at least had a point. Hearing his name like that was pretty enjoyable.

"Gaz, Spark, how copy?" Gaz's radio crackled, Ghost's voice cutting in and out. "Copy sir, we're in a safe house. Hell of a storm outside, we'll need to wait it out." He said. Y/N was checking the pipes and looking around for firewood as Ghost gave choppy orders. The man huffed and took off his vest when he saw the fire being lit, grabbing a rickety wooden chair to pull up next to it. "Fuckin' snow." He grumbled as he heard the wind bare down on the house. "Not a winter guy?" They asked, making him look over his shoulder as they walked in with two cups. "Found coffee. I know you're more of a tea type, but warm is warm." They responded softly. He thanked them and took the cup, though he cringed at the bitter taste, swallowing so he could answer their question. "Nah, always liked Summer more." They nodded before setting their mug on the floor. "So, we're alone for god knows how many hours." They said, looking at a tactical watch on their wrist. Gaz rose an eyebrow while taking another sip of his coffee. "Yeah? What of it?" He asked. "You gonna finally make a move or should I keep pretending there's no tension here?" Their blunt words made him choke and began coughing. They laughed and lightly smacked his back, snickering when he cleared his throat. "I uh, wow, okay. Bit blunt to put it that way, innit?" He said with a breathless laugh, putting the cup down. "Bit rude to eye fuck me all the time and do nothin' about it, innit?" They mocked with a grin, making him blush, though thankfully the melanin in his skin left it unnoticeable. "Okay, I do not...alright, maybe a little, but listen." He laughed bashfully. He watched them roll their eyes with a heavy sigh, looking down at him with a smile. "What? Do I have to do everything?" He rose his hands up and sank in the seat slightly as they placed their hands on his knees, leaning in slowly. "Didn't take you for such a scaredy cat, sergeant.~" Gaz cleared his throat and couldn't stop himself from laughing nervously again. "I'm not a scaredy cat. I'm just...patient." "Patient?" "Yes, indeed." They hummed and clicked their tongue. "Well, I'm not." Gaz felt his lungs constrict and the air expel from his body once their weight rested on his lap, hands on the back of the chair, which creaked under their combined weight. He watched them take his hat off and rest it on their head. "So, sergeant major Gaz. You gonna make a move, or should I?" They asked quietly. He let out a slow exhaled before shaking his head. "You...are gonna get me in so much trouble." He said fondly, though he did invite them leaning in dangerously close. "Guess that's a risk you gotta take." They whispered back. He hummed in thought, stalling for the sake of mischievousness now. "Eh, only live once." He shrugged, grinning as they laughed, unable to stop smiling when the held his face to kiss him. Trouble or not, it was inevitable.

✧John Price✧

John sighed and messed with his dog tags as he waited of Laswell to come back into the room. She’d said she had something important to tell him. She finally poked her head into his office with a calm smile, giving him a nod. “A few weeks ago, you asked for a sniper. I found one I think is suitable.” She said, opening the door a bit further to reveal them. Stood in a compression shirt and camp pants, arms behind their back. John straightened his back as he took their figure in, acknowledging slightly nervous body language. They seemed young, but not by much compared to the rest of the team. “Alright. Lemme talk to’em.” John mumbled, motioning with his hand for the soldier to step inside. Laswell patted their shoulder as they entered, crossing the office to sit in the chair across from Price. Laswell left with the door closed. “You’re nervous, soldier.” He said. They swallowed and nodded, patting their leg. “A little sir, yes. Trying not to be.” They answered honestly with a little chuckle. “You afraid your skills aren’t up to snuff?” He questioned, voice gruff, trying to poke for insecurities. Not that he was cruel, but he needed soldiers made of steel on the field. “Oh, no. I’m 100% confident in my skills. It’s uh, just hard to not feel anxious when you’re sat in front of a captain with such an impressive resume. I’m uh, well, I’m worried about my impression is all.” They admitted bashfully, clenching their hands in their lap. John rose an eyebrow and let out an amused huff at their praise. “You’re certain you’ll keep up?” He asked. “Yes sir.” They answered immediately. John nodded, he motioned for them to stand as he did the same. They listened without hesitation. He rounded his desk and stood in front of them, watching them force back nerves in order to meet his gaze. He held out his hand. “I‘ll look forward to seeing you work, soldier.” He said. His smile grew when they shook his hand, a spark growing in their eyes. “You won’t be disappointed, sir.”

John huffed and rubbed his temple, soreness radiating through his skull as a result of persistent annoyance. He'd been put in charge of some new recruits, a batch of youngsters, all of which seemed to enjoy testing his patience. They all liked to slack off, lose focus, occasionally take a little jab at him. John was a patient man and did his best to keep his cool, usually only losing it in dire circumstances. But, he was a human, and humans had their limits, and the captain was at the end of his rope as he watched the recruits joke around. All right after he specifically told them to run laps, a standard training exercise. His frustration must've been obvious on his face, hence why Mist approached him. "You alright, captain? You look ready to blow a gasket." They asked, voice soft, showing sympathy. The brunet huffed and rested his hand on his hip, feeling a bit soothed by the gentle pat on his bicep. "These damn kids won't take me seriously, and I've bout had it." He explained, motioning to the group. The soldier's eyes widened and looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Unable to fathom it. They weren't much older than the newbies, and they'd already shown a genuine and powerful admiration for John. For various reasons. John watched them frown and shake their head. "Try again." They motioned, giving an encouraging nod. John was a bit confused but he cleared his throat and shouted to get their attention. "I said to run laps, not stand chit-chatting! Move it!" He demanded, voice rough and commanding, but not as intense was it was in the heat of battle. Y/N's blood boiled at the blatantly disrespectful laugh one recruit let out. "Whatever, old man!" A young man replied. John felt his jaw tighten and he took in a breath to yell again, on his last nerve, before a voice beside him beat him to it. "WATCH YOUR FUCKIN' MOUTH!" Mist exclaimed, voice echoing in the air like flying daggers. They'd been rather soft, quiet, and gentle the whole time they were with 141. Excluding battle. To see them so angry, so intense, it was enough to make John even jolt in surprise. "When your commanding officer gives you an order, you execute it on the first fucking demand! He said run, you sprint damnit! If you think you can dick around at the sake of the training that will save your life and the lives of your comrades, FUCK OFF BACK HOME!" They hissed, baring teeth like a raging dog. "Now, move it! Forty fucking laps at least and if I hear more disrespect at my captain, I'll have your fuckin' heads!" The recruits had already began on the track, wincing when the threat landed in their ears. John watched Mist compose themself with a look of shock interlaced with endearment. They gave him a bashful glance and cleared their throat. "Uhm...there ya go." They smiled. John let out a quiet chuckle and patted their back. "Remind me to stay on your good side." He said playfully.

(Brief description of bullet wound & war) The sounds of gunfire were sharp on the ear drums. Air permeated with the scent of rubble dust & metallic blood. Mist jumped over an enemy corpse as they dodged around a building, clicking the button on their radio in order to answer their captain. "This is Mist! Ran off about six yards east, where are you, cap?" They asked, chest heaving. "Three yards to your right! Haul ass before these cunts reload!" It was probably a terrible time to think it, but they couldn't help but worry about his throat, all those cigars surely made his voice rougher than it was naturally. That thought was pushed back by the need of survival, although their worry was barely focused on themselves, more on the safety of their captain. They found him settled behind some large stacked crates, littered with bullet holes. Taking no time to slide up beside him, huffing and puffing, face smeared with paint & dirt. "Are you steady, Cap?" They asked breathlessly. John nodded, adjusting his bucket cap. "For now. We gotta move out toward the evac, Soap's got this place set to blow and I wanna be out before it happens." He explained whilst loading a rifle. "Understood, I'll cover you." They replied. Whilst sprinting away from the enemy, ducking when the gunfire got heavy, their barriers were thinning. John huffed and pushed through, scanning for the next thing they could duck behind. As he did, he was left open. The young soldier's eyes locked in on a sniper overhead, gun angled directly at the man beside them. The world moved slow and frightfully quick all at once as they shoved John off to the side whilst shouting for him to take cover. The bullet spun through the air and made itself home in Mist's leg. John was quick to act, able to aim his rifle up at the roof, landing a rather lucky headshot in retaliation. "Damnit, soldier, what the hell were you thinkin'?!" He exclaimed, using his arm to help them stand. They didn't respond, teeth gritted in pain as the two of them continued to move. Making it to the evac wasn't easy, but it happened. The team left like a bat out of hell, holding up with shotty attempts at first-aid until they could get to a medic. John put Y/N on priority for one since the bullet was lodged in their thigh, risking a problem with an artery or bone. Thankfully though, it was just a muscle issue. They'd need recovery time and rest, but overall, they'd be fine. Likely to only sport a scar by the end of it. They sat on a medical bed as John heard the verdict, eventually waving off the doctor so he could speak with them alone. "What the hell were you thinking?" John whispered harshly. Though Mist was the more sensitive type, they didn't flinch, not a single waver as they met his gaze. "Thinking about saving your life." They answered. "And you got shot cause of it." John replied, making them snort. "I can handle a shot to the leg. Far less damage than losing you. In terms of pros & cons? I think I weighed'em pretty well." John felt his chest constrict as they gave him a satisfied smile, as if they weren't still covered in the signs of war. He opened his mouth and no words came out, he gave up and sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He stared at them for a moment. Eventually, his hand fell limp at his side, chuckling quietly. "You'll be the death of me, soldier." He said. They laughed and shrugged. "Nah, I think I'll keep you alive for awhile longer. That's my plan anyway." Their retort played like music in the strings of his neurons, sending waves of serotonin & oxytocin in his system. "I'll hold you to that." He sighed.

(NPC death mentions) The sound of paper rustlings and the scratch of a pen was monotonous and soul sucking. John had always been a diligent worker, but, he'd never enjoyed paper work. It was something he found particularly boring even as he got older, and there was always an air of somberness when he was filling out reports on men who'd died. Lost their lives under his command. In the late hours of the night where silence was suffocating and the loneliness began to grow more obvious in his bones, continuously marking his signature down on dotted lines until his wrists were sore. His throat was dry and his eyes stung. There was a bottle of whiskey on a side table calling his name, but he didn't have the energy to move, and he knew it wouldn't satisfy any actual thirst. The sigh he let out was full of exhaustion. Then, he flinched, silence broken by a knock at the door. The brunet's brows furrowed in confusion & suspicion, given lights out was at least two hours ago. "Who is it?" He called after clearing his throat. "It's me." The voice was unmistakable, and though he hated to admit it, his shoulders relaxed slightly. "Enter." He instructed, finding it worrisome how it felt easier to breathe when their figure poked through the door, entering slowly. A cup of steaming tea rested in their hands. "You should be asleep, soldier." John said, leaning back in his seat. They gave a soft laugh and a nod, walking up to his desk. "Couldn't. Kept thinkin' bout you, knowing you were overworking yourself. Finally gave in and made you a cup of tea. With all due respect, sir, you should also be in bed." They answered, setting the cup on the desk. Like a godsend, able to sense his unspoken needs from across the base. He was a providing type, protective too, he'd been called a "dad" type as well, always caring for others. Although being cared for was foreign, he couldn't help but have his heart melt in a way he hadn't really felt in a very long time. The man sighed, grabbing the cup, blowing on it before he took a sip. He could feel his soul grow warm as he realized it was a perfect replica of how he'd make it, ideal to his preferences. It was impossible not to smile. "You're a real saint, you know that?" He asked. The room felt brighter as they laughed again. "I'm not sure about that, but thank you." They replied. "I mean it. You stick out your neck to make things easier for me, even when I don't ask. I notice it, even if I'd prefer you keep a bullet out of your leg." He scolded lightly, making them nervously shift their gaze to the side, recalling the shot they'd taken for him. "Eh, I don't really regret it." They said, moving around his desk in order to sit on the same side as him, remaining on the corner of the wooden table, careful to avoid sitting on any of the papers. John shook his head. "I'd probably take another eighty bullets for you." They answered honestly, ignoring the stutter in their heartbeat as he stood, chair scraping on the rug below. "Now why would you do that?" He questioned cynically. The response he got struck every chord in his heart. "Because I care about you too much to see you get hurt." They whispered. "You're such a good person, and you do so much for everyone else, even when you're at the end of your rope. There really aren't people like that in the world, and I don't think I could really handle losing something so rare." John inhaled and stepped in front of them. He was intently in their personal space, but they didn't feel the need to lean away, even if their nerves were alight with a specific type of anxiety as he tilted their chin with his hand. He didn't say anything for a long while, only gazing, adoringly and intensely full of passion. Finally, he smiled with an amused breath. "I think I hit the nail on the head..." He heard their breath catch when he leaned close enough for his facial hair to lightly prick at their skin. "You're nothin' short of a saint, sweetheart."

✧Johnny "Soap" MacTavish✧

The bar was crowded and rowdy, dimly lit and teeming with energy. 141 settled in a booth. The bar was popular with veterans and active soldiers, so there wasn't a corner of the building that didn't have some camo print in it. Johnny chuckled at a joke Gaz made at the expense of a recently defeated enemy before taking a swing of beer. He scanned the bar lazily. At the same time as others, cerulean eyes settled on a small scene in the crowd. Kyle leaned around Soap to get a better visual. "Yeesh, can't a man take a hint?" The man mumbled as they watched a tipsy soldier flirt with, what seemed like, a civilian. Dressed up for a night of fun but clearly not having a good time with a slurring and pushy man not being able to take a no. "Think we should step in?" Soap questioned, to which Ghost rose his hand, a signal to stay seated. "Look at their friends, they look like they're waiting for somethin'. Maybe they've got it covered already." He mumbled past the fabric of his balaclava. Johnny cringed, scrunching his nose at the scene, biting his tongue, literally. "They're a civilian against a trained soldier. Drunk or not, they probably need some help." Kyle commented. It was immediately after he finished his sentence that the "civilian" set their drink down, face showing annoyance. They turned to the drunkard and in quick, trained movements, took him out. Or in less intense terms, knocked him out cold with a swift elbow to the chest and a well formed punch to the jaw. The bar went quiet after a collective "oooohhh" in response to it all. The "civilian huffed and rested their hands on their hips, shaking their head. Soap's jaw was lax as he watched them walk over to the bar, pay, and leave. Left in utter awe intermingled with disappointment that he hadn't had a chance to talk to them. Up until a week later when a higher up declared he'd be gifting a lieutenant with an impressive track record to aid the task force in a mission. A huge help, since apparently they had specialized information. The four men waited for the mystery person right outside of base. When they walked up, they had a mask on, but a collective string of shock hit the men when they came closer. Gaz let out a little laugh and nudged Soap with his elbow. "Looks like you get to talk to them after all." He teased, watching Johnny fight to keep his jaw closed. They stopped in front of him with their arms crossed and face stern. "You lot must be 141. Lieutenant Fern." They said. Price stepped up calmly to introduce the team. Johnny cut him off, practically leaping forward with his hand extended to greet them. "Sergeant Soap, pleasure to meet'cha Lieutenant." He said with a boyish grin. They tilted their head with a raised eyebrow. "You always this excitable, sergeant?" They asked. Johnny's eyes glimmered with childlike fascination and liveliness. "Only with beauties like ya'self." He said boldly. They scoffed with some amusement, shaking his hand as they glanced at an embarrassed Price. "Bold, this one." They praised.

Soap grunted and slammed his hand on the floor twice, letting out a strained word. He took a deep breath when the pressure let off his neck, hearing a few tongue clicks. "That's the third take down, Soap. You gotta stop leaving yourself open." Fern sighed, giving him a hand up. He rubbed his neck and coughed, frustrated at himself for letting his performance slip. It was showing on his face and in his shoulders, weighing down by the sense of failure. "Oi, suds, quit that." They ordered, making him look up with confusion. They made a vague motion to his person, referring to his posture, before resting their hands on their hips. "The self-doubt and anger at yourself. It ain't gonna help ya. You're not bad at what you do, you're learning still. That's normal." They explained. Though their tone sounded blunt and rough, as usual, Johnny had been around them enough now to hear the hint of softness that lingered in their words. Something he had yet to hear before. He huffed and dropped his hand at his side. "I shouldn't be havin' these fuck ups, L.T. I been doin' this for too many years for fuck ups." Johnny let out a yelp and a whine as he received a flick to the bridge of his nose. "'nough of that, sergeant. What'd I just say?" Fern demanded with their gaze sharpened. They poked his chest to keep his attention. "You listen here, and you listen good because I won't be repeating myself. You're smart, and you're good at what you do. Fuck ups happen no matter how long you've been doin' something. You ain't perfect and I ain't expecting you to be. I expect you to be observant and open minded." They stated. Johnny's face softened and so did their tone. Fern sighed and shook his head. "Don't beat yourself up over shit that's fixable or that you can't control. Doing that won't help you, it'll just make you feel like shit. Enough of that will turn you into a stick in the mud." Their hand smacked on his shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. Soap felt his heart squeeze when they gave him a rare and small smile. "And I like you as the puppy dog you are, alright, soldier?" Johnny blinked before he snorted and nodded, taking their words to heart. "Good man. Now, c'mon. Let's go again. I'll go slower and correct your form and we'll get those slip ups worked out. On your mark." They ordered, gentler this time. Soap got into position with a grin and determination lit aflame once more. "On it, Lieutenant. Hit me." He challenged, burning with joy when they gave a fond chuckle.

Music and commotion filled the air with noise, adding a backdrop to a conversation that flooded in and out. Soap threw back some whiskey and cringed as it hit his taste buds. He coughed and set the cup down, shaking his head whilst the person across from him chuckled. "Not a whiskey type, suds?" They teased. He shook his head and slid the cup over, letting them take it and refill it. "I'll stick to my beer, thanks." Johnny replied with a huff. He pushed down the warmth in his face he got from watching them drink out of the same glass, mouth placed over where he'd just pressed his lips. Unintentional, most likely. He felt ridiculous being flustered over such a school-yard level of intimacy, and indirect kiss from sharing a glass was juvenile. He looked over their face, eyes settling on the signs of exhaustion in their expression. The Scotsman frowned and tapped the table a few times before he gave into his thoughts. "You ain't been sleeping, 'ave ya?" He asked. They looked up from following the patters of paint in the wall beside the two of them. Their silence was answer enough but the fact they shook their head sealed the deal. "Mind if I pry?" Soap asked, leaning in a bit more on his elbows. Fern shrugged and sank in their seat a bit, sighing. They rubbed their eye before regaining eye contact. "Different reasons. Old demons, mostly." They muttered. Johnny's brows dipped in sympathy. "You got a way of dealin' wit' that? Therapist?" He asked, sadness bubbling in his chest as they gave a humorless laugh and headshake. "Nah, I ain't gonna put my shit in someone else's hands. It's my problems, I should be able to deal with'em-" "Now that's a loada shit, L.T." Soap's voice cutting them off caught them by surprise. Johnny was a bold man, a loud man too, but he knew respect and knew when he needed to bite his tongue. He'd never really given an outburst at them. "Ain't you the one always tellin' me an' the team to speak up when we're in trouble?" He asked. They opened their mouth and shut it, unable to formulate a response. Their eyes softened when he reached over and rested his hand on top of their own. "Don't hesitate to ask for help. When you're out your depth, holdin' you pride too tight will get'cha killed. That's what you said." Fern blinked before a sad smile crossed their face. "Yeah...I did say that." They nodded, heart clenching as Johnny gave their hand a squeeze. "Then take your own advice, Y/N. Don't'cha owe yourself that?" He asked in a hushed tone. They bit the inside of their cheek and took his words to heart, nodding slowly with a slow exhale. "You're right. I'll keep that in mind...thank you, Johnny." They replied. He gave that sunshine filled grin in reply. "Ain't gotta thank me for that, L.T. But, you can buy me a drink if you wanna show your gratitude." He joked, feeling proud when it got them to laugh. "How's a tequila sound?" They asked. "After my 'eart, you are! I'll take three." Johnny responded with a grin.

(Implied wound) Soap grunted and leaned against a wall whilst holding his side. Pain shot through his nervous system with every movement. He huffed and thumped his head against the brick. His skin was growing clammy and moving his head too fast lead to his vision blurring, the dizziness was something that always got him the worst. He'd never been good with the sensation. It always felt him nauseous. The brunet groaned past gritted teeth as he tried to force himself to focus, will his brain to work despite the myriad of overloaded senses. His radio crackled with sound and a voice that was choppy thanks to the slightly cracked speaker. He let out a huff and rose his arm to click the button whilst trying to focus on the words, spoken by a familiar voice. "Soap? Soap, do you copy? C'mon mate, don't leave me hanging here." Fern asked with a hint of worry. The man grunted and that alone let the lieutenant take a sigh of relief. "You broken, serge?" They asked. Johnny swallowed in order to clear his throat. "Cracked, L.T. Took a hit to the side. Not sure of the damage but I ain't doin' so hot." He wheezed. Speaking brought on a coughing fit. He barely heard the order to stay put as his ears rung from the pain coughing caused. His vision was going spotty by the time he heard footsteps rapidly approaching. In his half focused state, he weakly tried to reach for his gun, only for a gloved hand to stop his arm. "It's me, Johnny." Fern's voice brought him a sense of relief. He leaned his head back to look at them, giving a weak smile. "'ey there, beautiful." He said, coughing again, which was followed by what could only be described as a whimper. Fern frowned as they checked his wound, using one hand to keep him steady. "Shit, Johnny. We need to get you to the evac right now. Can you stand?" They asked. He shook his head, slumping on their shoulder. He sighed, soothed by their body heat. "Just go on...I had a pretty good r-FUCKIN' CHRIST!" He screeched as they applied pressure to his wound. His face was grabbed sternly, forcing him to look them in the eye. Shock flooded his system as he saw saltwater building along their lower lid. "You listen here, you bloody fuckin' moron. You ain't allowed to die on me. Not until I fuckin' say so." They hissed. Soap blinked and opened his mouth to speak, letting out a noise of surprise when their lips collided with his. He let out a shaky breath whilst leaned into them, hand clutching a strap on their vest. Left tingling and energized by the action as they pulled away. "You pull all that fightin' spirit back in your fuckin' body and fight for me. Then, we get you out of here, we get you fixed up, and you owe me a fuckin' date. You got me, loverboy?" They demanded. The Scotsman heaved some breaths before he nodded. "I got'cha." He replied. Fern gave a single nod and stood up, pulling up the weakened soldier, getting under his arm to keep him steady. "Atta boy. Keep your head up, Johnny. I need you to keep your word." They said as they began helping him move. He gave a weak chuckled and a wheeze. "Roger that, L.T. Roger that."

✧Simon "Ghost" Riley✧

(Brief description of an NPC gettin' knifed in the face) The stairs creaked under Ghost's weight as he moved up behind Price. The man made a hand motion to move up more, which Ghost followed. "Stay steady, boys. Remember, not everyone in this place is a hostile." Price whispered gruffly, getting some affirmative responses. Ghost motioned for Soap to help him scan one side of the second floor, moving slowly through the rooms. Three hostiles were down in the span of two minutes. "Floor clear?" Gaz asked. "Affirmative." Soap replied, looking around. Just as Ghost was about to move out of the room, his eyes fell on a door he hadn't seen at first, with noise from behind it. "Negative. Unchecked room to the south." He motioned. The men rose their guns as Ghost moved toward it, carefully turning the door knob. He listened closely before swinging the door open quickly, locking in on a target almost instantly. They rose their hands with a yelp, an unidentified box in their hand. Ghost's finger twitched on the trigger before they spoke. "Friendly, don't shoot! Unarmed!" They declared, which made Price motion for the team to hold fire. "Name!" Ghost demanded. "Y/N L/N, call sign Blister. I'm a medic with S.A.S, and currently a hostage!" They said, voice sounding out of breath from the rush of adrenaline. Price clicked into the radio for Laswell for an identification as Ghost's eyes looked back at the box they held. Now he could see it was white with a red cross on it, as well as some faded stickers. He lowered his gun as Price confirmed they were telling the truth. Ghost motioned to the box and opened his mouth to demand they hand it over before they tensed, eyes locked on something right past him. "COVER!" They exclaimed. Shots ran past him, Gaz & Soap ducked. An enemy had snuck up behind them. About to reload before a white box flew and clocked them in the face, quickly followed by a throwing knife. As the body dropped limp, the men of 141 looked over with widened eyes as the medic let out a huff. "You said you were unarmed." Ghost replied gruffly, pushing past his feelings of shock. "One knife compared to four AK-12's is pretty much unarmed, big guy." Blister retorted. Ghost scoffed a small amused huff with a nod. "Fair point and good aim." He praised, watching them smile slightly. Price snapped his fingers to get their attention. "Need a gun?" He asked, to which Blister nodded. Ghost took his pistol out and handed it over, though he jerked it from their grasp at the last second with a warning look. "I better not regret givin' you this." He threatened, slowly holding it out again. They took it from his palm slowly, fingertips brushing against his gloves. "Relax, big guy. Only grief I plan to give is to the enemy." They said, checking the ammo clip before putting the gun in their pocket. Price motioned for them to move, stay low. Ghost was sure to trail the medic closely from behind. Unaware that it'd be soon that a higher up would decide that 141 needed a medic, and who better than one with perfect aim?

"Bit late to be up, ain't it?" The voice from behind him made him tense and nearly choke on the smoke in his mouth. Ghost looked over his shoulder as he exhaled the vaporized tabaco, pulling his mask back down once it was expelled completely. He watched Blister meander up to him, highlighted by the color of the moon. "Could ask you the same thing, medic." He replied. They snorted as they came to stand beside him. "Fair point, Lieutenant, fair point." They nodded, tilting their head to look up at the sky. The air was cold and the roof was quiet, below their feet were sleeping soldiers, unaware of the bright moon and twinkling stars. Blister tilted their head as their shoulders fell lax, something Ghost noticed. They never seemed tense and he couldn't fathom it when he couldn't ever relax, even when he was alone his muscles were tight, ready for fight-or-flight at all times. "You're staring, sir." They whispered, looking at him in their peripheral. Ghost scoffed and looked at the sky. "Was not." He denied, hearing them snicker. Silence passed between them before the medic noted Ghost's posture, just like he'd done to them. "You ever gonna let your shoulders relax? Your muscles' are gonna snap under that hypertension, sir." The blond clicked his tongue and shook his head. "These are as relaxed as they're gonna get, medic." He answered. "Because you're burning off constant anxiety?" Their response hit him a bit hard and he snapped his head to look at them. They stood with all their weight shifted to one leg, head tilted. "You don't hide it real well, ya know. All that unease. I know it ain't my place to pry, but I want you to know I can see it." Y/N said softly. Ghost let out an exhale from his nose. "And so what if you do? You're on thin ice, Blister." He warned, getting a headshake in reply. "I'm saying I see it so you know you're not invisible to me." He scoffed, crossing his arms after tossing the put out cigarette off the edge of the roof. The moonlight bounced off his irises, providing superficial light to replace the one that'd been missing since he was young. "Hard to miss me. I'm a "big guy in a Halloween mask", aren't I?" He said, using air quotes. They clicked their tongue. Ghost tensed and looked at them once more as their hand rested on his arm. "What I meant is; I see when you're struggling. And I'm here for you when it gets a bit too heavy. Whether you like it or not. I'm stick to ya, like a superglued plaster, sir." They patted his bicep and gave a kind smile. "Come see me sometime, you don't have to be injured to talk to me. My door's always open." Their words hung in the air as they walked away, and Simon couldn't help but pivot to watch them leave. When they disappeared off the roof, he cursed under his breath, feeling his chest clench and a pressure in the back of his throat. He looked up at the stars with weakness in the circles of his pupils. "...fuckin' help me ma, I'm screwed." He whispered into the night air, watching a star blink back at him.

(Ghostie gets a panic attack but it's still fluffy) Ghost let out a shaky sigh as pins and needles made themselves at home in his extremities. His veins buzzed with anxious energy and his hands had begun to shake slightly. His breathing wasn't erratic yet, but he knew it wasn't long before it would be. He bounced his leg and weighed his options before he stood up, chair squeaking along the floor at the speed of which he did. His footsteps were quick and heavier than usual as he rushed down the halls and toward med-bay. It never made sense to him, why he'd be perfectly fine and then suddenly be hit with sense of panic. Like there was a guillotine hanging over his neck that he couldn't see, but he knew the blade would drop at any second. The med-bay was empty of anyone, except for one person, organizing a new shipment of bandages. Blister heard the door click shut and the ragged breathing. They looked over their shoulder, surprised at first to see Ghost. They went to greet him before noticing all the signs of something they'd seen a million times. Twitchy, anxious, unable to breathe clearly, trembling hands. Without him saying a word, they pulled out a chair and motioned to it. "Sit." They demanded. Simon wasn't one for listening to other's orders if he didn't have to, but he did it, bouncing his leg. Y/N walked over to the water cooler and then a mini fridge, pulling out an ice pack. They walked over with it in hand, along with a tiny cup of water. Y/N placed it on his chest and motioned for him to hold it there. "Simon, look at me." They instructed in a soft voice. "I need you to try and take a deep breath. I know that's not easy, but try your best." He felt them lift his balaclava just far enough to rest over his nose, making it easier to breathe. "Can't you just shoot me up wit' somethin'?" He gasped. "I'd rather not if I can help it. Do you know what's happening right now?" They asked as he took the cup, tossing back the cold water. He shook his head. "This is a panic attack, Si. I'm gonna walk you through it, you just gotta do your best to breathe and focus on me." He didn't have much choice. They took his free hand and sat in front of him, looking him in the eye. "Follow with me. Give me five things you see." Simon swallowed and scanned. "Uh...peeling paint, cracked window, fire hydrant, ugly tile, broken light." He answered. They nodded and squeezed his hand soothingly. "Four things you feel." He took a deep breath. "Your hand, the seam of my jeans, ice pack, my itchy ass stubble." That got a little amused huff out of the medic. "Very good, you're doing great. Now, three things you can hear." Their praise was more comforting than he liked to admit. "My heartbeat, the clock on the wall...your voice." He whispered. They gave him a gentle smile and another squeeze to his hand. "Two things you smell." Simon took a deep breath through his nose and noted what came with it. "Sanitizer and somethin' fruity." He mumbled. "That'd be me. Now, last one. Take a deep breath and then tell me something you taste." They asked. Simon did as he was told, it felt easier now, less like his lungs were collapsing. "Mmph, tea. Bad tea, let the bag sit for too long." He complained. Blister chuckled and stood up, taking the ice pack from him and putting it on the table. They rested their hands on his shoulders, lightly pressing into them as they told him to take some more deep breaths. Once his breathing was steady again, he sighed and blinked slowly. "You alright?" They asked. Simon nodded, though he felt tired now. "You're...a real good medic." He muttered, feeling warm as they snorted cutely. "Thanks, big guy. I do my best."

(Reference to Ghost's poor self image & a singular mention of a wound) Ghost sat in an unmarked van with his back against one of the doors, watching Blister rummage around in hopes of finding medical supplies. His eyes drifted down to his leg, a broken pipe ran through his thigh. It hurt like hell and based on the annoyed growl the medic let out whilst throwing away another useless box, there wasn't anything they could do to help at the moment. Their radios overlapped with the sound of Price's words, informing them about the evac on the way, and how they'd ensure to send the help needed to get Ghost out of there safely. Said man shook his head as Y/N replied to their captain. "Just go. I'll slow ya down, it ain't worth it." He grumbled, wincing as he attempted to move his leg again. "Shut your fucking mouth, lieutenant." Blister hissed back. The man blinked in surprise at their response. They rarely snapped, not unless they were in the midst of battle. "Damnit, medic, don't be stubborn right now. Just fucking go, leave me here. That's an order-" "God damnit, Simon, shut your fucking mouth!" Ghost flinched at their shouting, now even more caught off guard. He watched them stand, walking a few steps to sit between his thighs. They gripped his vest roughly, eyes sharp like daggers and their nose scrunched in anger, teeth clenched tightly. They pointed a finger in his face while breathing heavily. "Now you listen and you listen good, I am not fucking leaving you hear. I am not leaving you anywhere, you understand? We are gonna get you in that fucking evac." They insisted. Ghost rolled his eyes at their declaration. "I am a liability, Blister!" They jostled him roughly. "You are fucking important to me, Simon! Your survival fucking matters to me, and until you stop breathing I am going to ensure I do everything in my power to keep you alive. And not just because it's my fucking job, but because I give a shit!" They shouted. Simon's chest felt tight again. His hands trembled so he curled them into tight fists to hide it. He felt like a kid again, weak and vulnerable. Something he despised. "Why?" He whispered past clenched teeth. He watched their gaze soften and their grip on him loosened, leaving their hand resting on his chest. "Because I care about you, but I know you don't care about yourself. But whether you like it or not, I give a shit whether you live or die. And one day, even if it takes my entire god damn life, I will get you to the day you can look in the mirror and love what you see. In and out. In order to do that, I need you alive. I need you alive to see the great man I see every day, o you're gonna get in that fucking evac, we're gonna get you patched up, and you're gonna live." Their voice shook and he watched their bottom lip shake slightly. Simon shuddered under the weight of their words. "Do you copy?" They asked. He stared at them, unable to find any hints of deception. They meant every word. Simon bit his lower lip and inhaled slowly. "...yeah, I copy."

[levirgil420]

It terrified me (Ryusui Nanami x GN reader fluff)

Request: Nope

Pairing: Ryusui Nanami x GN reader fluff

Synopsys: Being sick because you overworked yourself is not what you had in mind for today but it brings something very nice too with a certain captain.

Tw: angsty, bit of hust comfort, talk about being sick but nothing bad

Note: My phone died during my holiday and I bought a notebook to write this so I know that it's not the best. I hope you will like it :) I love Dr. Stone and the new season was amazing, can't wait for the next one !!

Ryusui never felt fear, he was the greediest man alive ! Why does he need to feel fear ? Even during the petrification, he was not afraid for his futur. But he met you and he fall hard. When Senku and the other "woke" him up and his eyes met yours...Ryusui knew he desires you.

Before the petrification, you were a student in marine biology and you were friend with Senku, Taiju and Yuzuhira. After your depetrification, you tried your best to help everyone with your science and knowledge. But you missed studying what you love so when the decision to build a ship was made, you were more than thrilled to start the constuction. You too, when Ryusui was depetrified, find him attractive rapidly after your eyes contact.

With his passion for sailling and yours for marine biology, the txo of you bounded quickly and in between your stories in the sea and helping Senku with the ship, everyone notice the simple flirt with each other.

You liked Ryusui and was not a surprise when you realized it. Maybe he was the greediest man but he was kind (especially with Suika), always wanted to help and Ryusui was determided thanks to his desire for everythings (plus he was handsome which didn't help your crush on him).

But builiding the ship was more important so you put mind and body literally on it to distract yourself. You redoubled your efforts and worked even harder when the sonar was ready to be used making you forget sometimes to eat or sleep. Senku was a little bit concerned for your health: being sick in the Stone World was not easy even with the sulfa drug. After a sort of little talk and a lot of apology from you, things became normal again. However, a few weeks later, you started again, neglejecting your health with too much work. Your skin your skin looked paler and paler and your eyebags became more visible. Ryusui was worried sick for you and was always here asking you if you were okay but you always brushed it off by saying thats it's just a cold, that it wil pass and to not worry about you.

Somedays later, you were with Taiju and Suika picking up plants and fruits, you knew it was not a good idea with your blurry vision and your tiredness but like always, you wanted to help. The sun was high and you felt weird

Suika: Are you okay Y/n ? You seem a bit lost...

Y/n: Yeah don't worry, I'm fin-

Suddenly a light headed feeling came over you and your vision worsened.

Suika: Y/n ?

Y/n: Don't worry, I just need a break, the heat's not helping.

Your head began to hurt really badly and the dizzy feeling wouldn't go away. Suika was worried now and before she could call Taiju, you fainted. Taiju, who heard the sound of your fall, ran over your uncunscious body and tried to "woke you up".

Taiju: Y/n ! Y/N !!

*in the Ishigami village*

Taiju: SENKUU !!

Everyone in the village turned their heads when they heard the panicked scream of their friend. Taiju were carrying you bridal style ,with Suika who were crying not far behind and ran quickly toward his geen haired friend. Senku was with the others Wise Commanders talking about all their unfinished tasks when Taiju arrived in front of them in a hurry with you in his arms, still uncunscious. Every eyes widened seeing in what state you were and quickly went over him.

Gen: What happened ?

Taiju: I don't know! They were with Suika and then they were on the floor unresponsive !

Suika arrived with Kohaku and after taking breathes to calm herself, she began telling what happened with a little bit more details.

Senku: Bring them to the laboratory. Now.

All of your friends followed Taiju toward the labo where he laid you on the bed and left you with Senku's science.

However, one person didn't follow, Ryusui couldn't move or speak, allof his body was shaking and his mind was blank. The only thing he could see was you, unresponsive and unconscious in the arms of Taiju...A shiver rolled down his spine and he knex: Ryusui never felt fear until now. The tought of loosing you terrified him and he hated it...He was so lost in his mind that he didn't feel Francois's presence and Suika taking his hand until she squeezd it.

Suika: Don't worry, the will be fine...They said in themsleves.

Francois: I have to agree with Miss Suika. Y/n is strong and it's not that that will stop them to follow their dream of navigation.

It gave him a little bit of hope and Ryusui squeezed back Suika's embrace and nodded to his chef.

Ryusui: Yeah, thank you.

Suika gave him a kind smile before she let him go to the lab with the others

Chrome: So it's not like Ruru's illness ? Because if it is, we need to give them the medecine.

Senku: No need. They just have an high fever because they overworked themselves. Y/n need to rest , take more care of their health and stop overso everything idiot.

Kohaku: So they will be fine ?

Senku: Didn't you listen Lioness ? Yes they're going to be fine.

Kohaku: I'm not a lioness !!

Gen: Okay, maybe we need to leave dear Y/n rest but leaving them alone might be not a great idea...What if their condition worsens ? Someone need to be with them.

Every person in the room knew what Gen was doing and decided to play along.

Chrome: Yeah good idea but with Senku we need to do some...science stuffs.

Chrome's acting was not the best and they all knew that. So they all gave one by one arguments and reasons to why they can't watch you to cover it.

Gen: And you dear Ryusui ? You're the only one who is not occupied. You could be with Y/n !

Everyone nodded their heads before hurrying out, leaving Ryusui and you alone without him saying anything. He was not dumb, knowing the mentalist, Gen saw right through him and knew about the desire he has for you. Ryusui sighed with a smilebefore entering more in the lab to take care of you the best he can.

*Night time*

Your eyes fluttered open, trying to adjust to the small light of a candle. You tried to get yourself into a sitting position but stopped quickly and laid down again immediately because of a terrible headache. You let out a grunt of pain before bringing your hand on your forehead.

Ryusui: Y/n ! You're finally awake ! How are you feeling ? Do you need anything?

You didn't know at first that Ryusui was there with you, to lost to even know were you where...Closing you eyes again, you turn your head to face him and open them to see a soft but worried smile on his face.

Y/n: What happened? Why I am in the lab ?

Ryusui: Well, you overworked yourself to the point of sickness and exhaustion so when you were with Taiju and Suika picking up plants, you fainted and Taiju took you here.

You let the information sunk in your head,making a note to yourself to thanks Taiju and Suika tomorrow.

Y/n: And why are you here ? Not that I don't appreciate it ! But Senku or maybe Chrome would have been the one I expect when I wake up sick.

Ryusui: You're doubting my medecine skills ?!

Y/n: You're a sailor !!

Ryusui: And ??

The captain made a false hurt expression to be dramatic, making you chuckle. You let out another grunt of pain because of your laugh which alerted Ryusui who quickly replaced the cold clothes on your forehead and neck that fell when you "sit up". Your checks which were already red because of your fever, reddened more because of (or thanks to) the proximity between the two of you.

His touches were gentle but you noticed that his hands were shaking slightly. Your eyes widened a little when you saw, right after, the worried frown on his face. You never saw him this scared,not even in the storm. He was always so confident (and greedy) that being the reason of his fear made you feel a bit guilty. A weird yet comfortable silence was in the room before you took Ryusui's hand to stop him.

Y/n: What's going on? I can tell that you're not okay.

Ryusui didn't respond immediately and a more saddened expression came on his handsome eyes. He was struggling to find the right answer and in the same time to maybe express his feelings for you. With this misadventure, the blond haired man knew that he needed to tell you before it's too late.

Ryusui: I...I was terrified. When I saw you unconscious in the arms of our friend my heart skipped a beat and not a good one. You were not moving, only your chest was and it seemed like you were on the verge of death. I couldn't move, fear overtook my body when everyone went to the lab to help Senku. I thought that we were loosing you, that I was loosing you and it terrified me...

Y/n: You didn't loose me Ryusui, I'm here and alive. Okay I'm not in my best shape but I'm not dead.

To accentuate your point, you out his hand on your (rapid) beating heart. You were now blushing hard and when he looked at you, you saw a faint redness on his checks making him more beautiful and less sad.

Ryusui: There also something else I need to tell you. It's maybe not the right time but it's very important.

You nodded your head for him to continue.

Ryusui: I love you Y/n, a lot. The thought of living without you scare me but not saying my desire for you before it's to late is scarier ! I love you since the first eye contact and days after days my desire grew.

All of your face was deep crimson red now, thanks to his confession, with a happy and soft smile on your lips. Squeezing his hand which was still on your heart, Ryusui looked at with hope squeezing your hand back.

Y/n: I...I desire you too Ryusui, since the first day and forever.

Your shaky confession made his eyes widened but a big smile appeared on his lips. Ryusui laughed of relief with his iconic laugh making you joining him with your own soft laugh to not hurt your throat or head again, still feeling sick.

The comfortable silence made you yawn so you slowly closed your eyes feeling rather tired.

Ryusui: When everything will be over. I will like take you on a date.

You smiled for yourself, still with you closed eyes.

Y/n: Yeah, I will like that if you do.

It was his turn to smile

Ryusui: I want to kiss you

You were already fast asleep when he said it so with a found look, Ryusui softly kissed your hand (still locked with his), listening to each breath you take, comforting himself that you're alive and now his.

*the next morning*

Everyone were relieved to see you in a better shape than yesterday and this time, Senku made it clear that you are not leaving your bed for 3 days even if you told him that you were ready to help again.

_____________________________________________

Thank you again for reading this fic ! I hope that you liked it !

Sorry for my grammar errors

English is not my first language:)

[arcticwolfpaws]

Gotham's light

Chapter 3

Faraj's pov

A screeching noise startled me awake, I scrambled to find and shut off the cursed noise before it made my ears bleed, I finally found the stupid little box and unplugged it, I put a hand on my chest trying to calm my hammering heart, after my ears stopped ringing I let out a soft squeak, finding the lay out of the room, I picked up the glasses on the bed side table and took a deep breath I remembered getting these and knew there was going to be an expectation that I wear them, I took a deep breath before putting them on it was strange to have everything suddenly come in to focus. I stood for a moment before looking around feeling dazed. The room was far more luxurious then my sonar had me thinking, The bed was large enough to get lost on and large antique looking wardrobe stood near the door an elegantly caved chest sat near the foot of the massive bed, all pulled to gather by a large fluffy rug.

“Where the hell am I?” I asked myself softly, I moved to the door closet to my bed and found a bath room, I used the mirror to check and see if I could find any signs of a needle but nothing…. The past hell I didn’t even know how long was a blur, taking a quick shower I tried to use it to clear my head.

Once I was dressed for the day I headed out of the room , the hallway was near empty a long rug down the center over dark hard wood, I noticed a few tabled half way down with picture frames on it, I quickly walked up hoping to be able get some idea of who I was with as no faces were clear in my mind beyond the blue man I had been left with originally, the picture was that of what looked like a singer father and his young son. A door opened and a young man stepped out his dark hair and blue eyes making it hard to tell if he’d been the man in the picture or the child.

“Oh… you must be Faraj. I’m Dick.” His voice was cheerful even in it’s deep rumble. I blinked and spoke without thinking.

“Good lord your parents must have hated you.” he laughed and walked up patting my shoulder, I was glad he at least had a sense of humor,

“Well at least you don’t live up to the name.” He grinned as he walked past me stopping when I didn’t follow him.

“Come on kiddo, I’ll show you around.” Kiddo? What was I fiv- oh wait… they didn’t know…. That’s good. I followed after him disturbed when I realized he made very little sound as he walked. I’d have to keep an ear out for him.

After a brief tour of the massive manor we sat down at in the dinning room for breakfast the man from the photo I guessed and… Jason, I recognized his voice but I couldn't pin point where from, likely from that time blur I had and that was going to frustrate me quickly.

The table was quiet for a long moment Dick staring at The older man who was staring at me As the butler a kindly looking old man set a fruit salad in front of me. I had no idea if he had known that it was my favorite or not but it had me ignoring the looks I was getting and chowing down.

“Are you going to tell him or should I?” Dick’s voice had been in a low whisper clearly not something I should have heard but with a mutation like mine it was impossible not to, however in order not to give myself away I kept quiet. I heard the older man sigh before speaking in a hesitant tone.

“Faraj… I got the results from that D.N.A Test back.” His tone was low and careful but now I was scrambling through my memory as I didn’t remember giving any kind or permission for anything of the like,

“Eh?” Was all I could muster as a response my mind racing. Had I let him? Did he take what he needed while I was a sleep? And why the fuck was so much of my memory so damn foggy?

“I’m your father…” I choked, having to cough I noticed as Dick stand in case I needed help,

“Maybe while he was eating wasn’t a great time.” Jason said sounding amused as I struggled to breath properly.

“What?” I asked looking back up at the older man, he just nodded and the butler placed an envelope in front of me. It had already been torn open but I didn’t care as I reached inside and read the results myself. What even? Is Mr. Wilson aware of this? If so why was I left with the blue man and not here? Hell how did I even get here.

“Faraj?” Bruce’s voice was soft with concern, I only knew his name now due to the results, I shook my head still trying to processes this new information and I slowly spoke.

“This...This isn’t funny.” I stated the disbelief settling in my gut, Bruce frowned at me for a moment and opened his mouth as if to speak before closing it again. It was the butler that spoke in a gentle low voice.

“No, young master there is no joke being told. And might I say if there was it would be a most unfunny one.” I had never thought I would meet my father, I knew my mother was… well less ideal but the thought of an assassin having a child with some no name business man?

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” Bruce prompted and I shook my head hard trying to sort my own thoughts out, Did I have questions? Well yes but none of them felt like I could ask but I needed to come up with something… anything.

“W-what happeneds now?” My voice had come out much smaller then I intended, Bruce smiled softly as he cleared his throat,

“Well, first we finish getting your room set up some of the things we ordered should be coming into day, Then we need to set up the spring gala here at the manor, we’ll introduce you to the public, I figure I’ll just say I kept you away from the public eye so you could live in peace. But for that you’ll need a suite, We’ll get that tailored…” Geeze I guess he’d really been thinking about this… If I were a normal kid, I’d be over whelmed with all this but honestly, I could appreciate that he had this all thought out. Dick elbowed him in the side and cleared his throat.

“That’s not what he meant,” Dick hissed and Bruce looked confused before taking a breath,

“Hopefully not much from as they are now but I will need you to not break anyone’s bones while you’re at school.” He stated and I hummed softly, I didn’t remember braking bones but depending on the bone it could be quiet easy.

“Right…. Sorry.” I mumbled hoping it made me look sweeter then I was, Jason spoke up reaching over to put a hand on my shoulder.

“Don’t worry I’ll handle any bully you have, After all we’re brothers now.” He stated, honestly I really didn’t need anyone defending me, I just needed blackmail but I knew I’d have to deal. I gave him a nod and a small smile.

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Bruce hadn’t been lying about about everything he wanted to do, The decorating was being done by Dick and Bruce while The butler, Jason and myself worked on constructing my desk. I was never much of a carpenter so I was happy to let Jason work with the hammer while I handed him the pieces, we worked to gather to flip it up. I hummed as I tested the roll top and the drawers.

“Seemed like we got it right.” I stated and Jason ran a hand through his hair,

“Yeah seems like it” He stated a soft smile on his face

“I think you handle a hammer pretty well.” He chuckled at me and spoke,

“You think I’m good? You should meet Roy.” That name… I knew a roy, my heart hurt he’d been my first friend and now? I don’t think I’d ever see him again.

“Hey you okay?” Jason asked putting a hand on my shoulder causing me to jump,

“Huh? Oh.. I umm I’m fine just thinking it’s nothing.” I mumbled shaking my head as the butler pushed the box closer to me, I started digging through it not really aware of what I picked but most of it seemed accurate to my taste this box was mostly cloths but at the bottom I found some books and hummed softly as I set them up on the desk.

“Chemistry of tomorrow? Criminal Assassin? Bats and other nocturnal creatures? What on earth are you researching?” He asked I frowned at him and sighed before shaking my head.

“I’m not, I like bats, and chemistry.” I told him and he huffed and held up the assassin book,

“And the assassins?” He asked I shrugged,

“I dunno looked intresting,” I paused for a moment looking at the book for a second then sighed and set the book down.

“Alright fair enough.” he mumbled setting it down as we opened another box,

“I think we have it from here thanks Alfred,” I was quick to make a mental note of the butler’s name.

“Yeah, we can do this.” I added and he nodded before heading out of the room he left the door open as he did leave.

“So… what exactly are you hiding?” Jason’s question and I looked up at him blinking, I didn’t really have an answer for him because the truth was… I was hiding everything.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about and what could I possibly even want to hid? It’s nice here and I like it here, I’m not going to risk ruining it with secrets.” He grumbled at me but I stuck to that, I’d keep the innocent act to the best of my ability. He sighed at me and shook his head before speaking,

“Alright, But I’ve got my eye’s on you.” He stated and I blinked and looked down at my shirt,

“But I don’t see any eyes on me.” He groaned and I bit back a chuckle,

“Smart ass” he grumbled and I smiled at him,

“I was unaware my ass had an intelligence level.” I put my hand to my chin as if I was thinking and he groaned loudly,

“Alright, listen here you little shit. I know your hiding something and I’m going to find out what it is.” I blinked at him I thought it was funny. But I really didn’t think that he’d find anything about on me.

[yo-soy-la-justicia]

So... she si now a man?? (Or rather: was he always a boy? My question is not intended to question OX's gender, its know how to refer to OldXian)

I mean i'm pretty sure Old Xian was a girl, but recently someone told "she" was a boy... i'm not sure anymore

I'm going give context because saying like that can sound rude:

Cuando yo entré al fandom, 2016 más o menos, creí que era un chico por su avatar, pero entonces se dijo que en realidad era una chica, así que desde ahí muchos la empezamos a llamar como tal y nunca pensé demasiado en si su avatar representaba algo más que Old Xian queriendo mantener su identidad secreta y disfrutando de dibujar chicos, porque yo también uso avatares de chicos que me parecen cool pero no me identifico como uno

Entonces, siempre fue 'él" pero por alguna razón la tratamos como "ella" todo este tiempo? (why??) o sigue siendo "ella" y solo es es "él" cuando se trata de escribir bajo el nombre de Old Xian? o realmente hubo una transición aquí y su avatar masculino reflejaba algo más personal?

Nunca considere esto último así que entiendo que mi pregunta pueda sonar grosera por eso mismo, pero la pregunta era mera curiosidad para saber si en mi cabeza la seguía llamando como una chica o debería empezar a pensar en OX como "él"

Y cuando digo que no puedo verle como un chico me refiero a que llevo tantos años con la seguridad de que es una chica que de pronto se sintió como si no conociera a mi artista favorito , o sea un dato tan básico, pero no me estoy negando a verlo como chico ahora, es solo que necesitaría acostumbrarme

Básicamente es eso, no quería sonar grosera o como si estuviera cuestionando a Old

[whumpwillow]

here have a thing

warnings: past torture, death mention, bugs mention (mosquitos), blood, associated misery

—

They were, in theory, alone.

The group made their way through what they’d thought was a deserted mangrove. That was the primary reason they’d chosen it as the landing pad for their airship, as the sonar array hadn’t detected any other vessels in the area, nor were there any nearby settlements. They planned it this way so they could avoid coming into contact with any other people.

That was, until they came across the man stumbling through the forest, covered in blood. Leader drew the stun gun from his waist belt and pointed it at the man, who took no notice of them. Friend subtly positioned himself in front of Caretaker, but she could still see the gory images played out in front of her.

The man was alone, and wearing nothing but a tattered pair of work slacks. His chest and feet were bare, save for the grievous wounds that marred them. His body bent forward at the waist, head hanging low, and his muscles contorted with each strangled breath. He’d put his forearm to a tree next to him and seemed to be trying to regain balance or stability or energy or something—Caretaker couldn’t tell. She didn’t know how he was even alive right now.

His head was downturned and his hair, wet and sticky with blood, was so plastered to his skin that his face was indiscernible. Blood streamed down it, as well as from numerous other wounds on his body.

They were…not the sort of wounds one would get from being lost in the forest. They were too precise. Intentional.

“Stay back,” Leader said, in his usual stern but smooth baritone.

The injured man flinched, having registered the sound, but all it did was quicken his breathing. Leader took a step toward him.

Caretaker couldn’t stop staring. Eyes wide, she observed every gash, every burn, every bruise. The wounds were fresh and weeping, but it had to have been a few days at least that the man had been wandering through the forest. He was covered in mud that mixed with the crimson that dripped from his wounds, likely having infected them already. Little red dots scattered across his skin showed that he’d been food for the mosquitos, and small scratches on his arms and legs looked more like the injuries gotten from foliage rather than…direct intent.

How he got the other wounds…Caretaker didn’t want to think too hard about it.

“Who are you?” Leader asked.

The injured man didn’t respond. His arms and legs shook something fierce, and had been the entire time. Whether it was from exhaustion or fear, Caretaker didn’t know.

“Looks like he got pretty fucked up,” Friend chimed in. “He one of ours?”

Leader grumbled something under his breath. “Blackdoor would do that.”

Caretaker pushed herself out from behind Friend and moved quickly up to where Leader was standing. She put a hand on his arm and looked him in the eyes.

“Come on,” she said. “Put the gun down. He’s clearly hurt.”

Leader eyed her stonily. His gaze flicked from Caretaker’s face to the nearly doubled-over body of the injured man and back, though the hand holding the gun never wavered or shook.

“It could be a trap,�� he said.

Caretaker put a hand on her hip and used the other to gesture to the mysterious man. “Does it fucking look like one?”

Leader didn’t respond, except to reach to her as she moved forward to go to the injured man. He lifted his head minutely, but with the blood and his hair plastered to his face, she couldn’t make out what he looked like. But she knew he was watching her.

“Hey,” she said. “Do you need help?”

She raised a hand to touch him but he flinched back, stumbling over a root and falling to the ground. Leader shouted and darted forward, and Caretaker felt herself being pulled away from the spot before she could even blink.

She fumbled with the roots and leaves for a bit, but Friend came up behind her and put his arms on her shoulders to steady her. Leader had one foot on the injured man’s chest and was pointing the stun gun directly at his face.

“What are you doing here, Whumpee?” he shouted.

Whumpee. the assassin.

Caretaker shivered. She’d only encountered him once, but she’d been through enough danger at the hands of Blackdoor to know they didn’t mess around and they didn’t hold back.

Whumpee held up his hands over his face. “Pl-please, please, please—you can’t—I’m not—please—I’m—,” he begged, words coming out in short gasps.

His hands shook as he tried to protect himself from whatever he thought was coming. Caretaker could still barely see his face through the blood. Leader didn’t relent, trying to question him on his intentions, but they all already knew what his objective was.

To kill Caretaker.

She stepped up beside him, ignoring Leader’s protests. “What happened to you?”

Whumpee didn’t respond. The begging seemed to take precedence and Caretaker turned to look at Leader, wondering if she had enough persuasion skills to get him to put the gun away.

“You’re hurting him,” she said.

“He was sent to kill you,” Leader said. His eyes blazed with something dark and obsessive. “He fucking killed my brother.”

Caretaker knew Leader had been consumed with revenge ever since the attack that had killed his brother, orchestrated by none other than Blackdoor’s very own assassin. She’d seen the way he stared out the window of the airship as they moved through the sky, the light in his eyes giving way to something else entirely as he talked about how he’d get his revenge. But this wasn’t the way.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose to relieve the building tension. “Yes, I know. I was there. I saw him die on that operating table too,” she began. “But we can’t kill Whumpee here. We can get vital information from him about Blackdoor.”

Friend drew up behind Caretaker and peered around her shoulder to look up at Leader. “And about Team Member! I need to know what he did with Team Member!”

Whumpee groaned, writhing in the mud under Leader’s boot still placed on his sternum. Caretaker glanced down at him and then back at Leader, not wanting to think about how much it must have hurt those bruises staining every inch of skin she could see that wasn’t already covered in mud and blood. Deep purples, blues, greens, and browns made him look more like a piece of abstract art rather than a person.

“…scaped…” Whumpee murmured, almost inaudibly.

Friend crouched down. “What’d you say?”

Whumpee turned his head weakly in Friend’s direction. “He escaped…she let him go…when she caught me.”

He panted heavily, drawing in breaths with great effort. It seemed speaking even this little bit had exhausted him.

Caretaker gave Leader a look that she hoped conveyed to him that he should at least take his foot off the assassin’s chest. Leader understood and acquiesced, stepping back. He didn’t holster the stun gun.

Whumpee took in a deep breath once Leader’s weight was off him, but then immediately whinged in pain. His face crumbled like paper. Friend twisted his mouth to the side, a look of displeased understanding on his face.

“His ribs are probably broken. Sucks to take in a breath when it feels like you’re getting stabbed,” he noted.

Caretaker crouched down next to him. “Who caught you? Did the Eighth Chasm do this?”

The Eighth Chasm leader had a temper to match her fiery red hair. Caretaker would never have expected her to do something like this, but she also had never actually met the woman, so she supposed she couldn’t make such snap judgments. Leader had been the one to feed the information to her, and as much as he liked to think of himself as rational and stoic, he often let his emotions color his perception of things.

Whumpee shook his head, creating a sloshing noise of his hair going back and forth in the mud. “Montrose family,” was all he said before letting the silence hang in the air between the four of them.

Caretaker looked up at Leader, wondering if this was someone new he would tell her about, but his face displayed as much confusion as hers likely did. Leader’s eyebrows knitted together in concentration, but he finally shook his head.

“Is that part of Blackdoor?” Friend asked.

“Why would Blackdoor do this to their own operative?” Caretaker responded to Friend’s question with another question. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

Whumpee heaved another strained breath. His eyelids fluttered, closed, and then opened again after a long pause.

“They didn’t like Blackdoor operating out of New York City…said it was their territory,” Whumpee said. His bottom lip trembled, but he didn’t seem to realize. His eyes glazed over for a moment before he spoke again.

“They sent one of their operatives to kill me and Septimus…hah, and all this,” he gestured at his battered body. “This was just for fun.”

[magicalgirlmascot]

Jaller Mahri meets Krakua at a supermarket while the latter is stressed abt something and his mask of Sonar gets him smacked full force by the Panic Frequencies so hard he ends up knocked out on the floor of the produce isle

Jaller tugged the ends of his sleeves down further over his wrists. The store was always freezing, especially in the summer when they cranked the air conditioning, but it was a good excuse to wear his jacket. The scale patterns on the backs of his wrists were easy enough to hide with sweatbands at school or during field hockey practice, but the grocery store had a stupidly strict uniform dress code. He just had to keep a close eye on his sleeves and hope for the best.

There was a dull ache in his head, pounding through his skull. It had been slowly building over the last forty-five minutes, but he couldn't do much besides grit his teeth and push through it. It was the Friday before a long weekend. The store was busier than it had been all week. There was no way his manager would let him take a few minutes to pop a couple ibuprofen when it was this jam-packed. Never mind that he was the hardest-working cashier they had, and that he hadn't originally been scheduled for this shift, and that he was working three hours and forty-five minutes which was just enough time that he didn't get any breaks at all but still had to basically work four hours. This place sucked.

Wordlessly, he started scanning the next customer's groceries. Normally he tried to give better customer service--at least a hello or good morning if nothing else--but today he couldn't bring himself to. If anyone had a problem with that they could deal with his stupid manager. His head throbbed in time with the tinny music being pumped through the store's shitty speakers. There was a vague, almost electric buzzing in the back of his head, a high pitched ringing in his ears. Probably the source of his headache, honestly. Did no one else hear this? How was no one else losing their minds?

Wait a second. Jaller's head snapped up from his mindless scanning. His new sonar power. That had to be what was causing the problem, right? He bit his lip, turning away to get a sticker for the customer's case of water bottles. It was getting worse. That had to mean whatever was causing it was getting closer. He lifted his head and scanned the crowd. No one stood out on the surface of it. People were loud, as usual, and the longer he took dealing with his line the grouchier the people in it looked. But the Piraka had looked mostly normal until you looked at them closely, and it didn't rule out any invisible bad guys. Or just Nuparu, but why he'd be sneaking around a crowded grocery store in the middle of the afternoon was beyond him.

"Hey. Hey!"

Jaller's head throbbed as he blinked at the person in front of him. The customer--a middle-aged woman he should probably recognize but didn't--had a deep scowl on her face, turning her credit card over in her fingers. "I'm in a hurry, here," she said, her voice dripping with acid.

The ringing got louder. Jaller clenched his teeth. "That's $42.73," he gritted out. "Do you have a loyalty card?"

He rushed her through the rest of the transaction and started scanning the next person through. This one was a fairly young guy, younger than Mr. Tahu at least (Tahu, it was just Tahu now, he wasn't Jaller's teacher anymore and that was weird). He looked like he was going to shake himself apart at the seams. There was something off about him. Jaller couldn't put his finger on what, just...something weird. His smile was strained, but so was Jaller's, so it probably wasn't that.

The sound got louder, more insistent, and it wasn't just a ringing anymore. Now it was a full brass section warming up. Jaller pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes, but that just made things so so so much worse.

"Hey, are you okay?" the man asked.

He couldn't avoid it anymore. He had to know. Keeping his hands over his eyes so no one would see them glow, Jaller sent out a pulse of his sonar.

What he got back was an absolute cacophony. Alarms and instruments and insects and horns and rumbling and ringing and

When Jaller blacked out, his last thought was that he might finally get some silence.

[danthepest]

Regardless of your thoughts on Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League...

I will always be of the opinion that the main squad group was a terrible choice in cast, barring King Shark. These guys are supposed to be a counter to a rogue Justice League.

So against the fastest man alive, a space cop, an Amazon and a Kryptonian they send in gun guy, clown girl and boomerang guy.

Really? No other metahumans except King Shark? No villain that has gear that actually hinders the heroes like Captain Cold, Sonar, Weather Wizard, Metallo or Bloodsport? No Atomic Skull, Silver Banshee, Cheetah or Killer Frost?

In what world does sending a girl with a gun and a bat or a sniper or a guy with trick boomerangs to fight literal gods sound like a smart plan? Out of all the possible villains they could've used?

I'm enjoying the game and am intrigued how the story plays out with later DLCs, but man does the base roster bug me. And Waller has the gall to be upset at them for not being able to to stop the Flash in their first encounter? Bitch, you CHOSE these dorks!

I just wish DC would stop trying to push the Suicide Squad as heavy hitter A-listers. It doesn't work.

[girls-in-bikiniiss]

D o t

Alastor x OC

You hummed along to the easy listening station you had playing on the radio while you wrote in your journal as the evening wound down.

You loved the static sounds that accompanied the music as it swelled through the bell of your gramophone.

You had died fairly young, but you had been raised by your grandparents (may they rest in peace) who had live through the Great Depression. You were certain your grandparents ended in Heaven, the two graciously welcoming you in when your parents abandoned you. You were certain you'd come across your parents here in Hell, but that day hadn't come yet. Nonetheless, you had acquired you grandparent's antique taste.

"And that was Henry Hall and His Orchestra - Hush Hush Hush Here Comes the Bogey Man"

You heard the Radio Demon was back after a seven year disappearance, and bought the gramophone soon after he began his broadcast. You found yourself listening more and more. Something that first became sentimental quickly became an everyday habit. You respected him, especially after his broadcasting battle against Vox. You were never a fan of the Vee's in Pride Ring, but it was hard not to come across them. Their turf had expanded tenfold due to the last extermination. You lived in a border area, but it bordered the Vee's District and has started to be swallowed into the new territory.

"This next song has a similar sound, this is Flanagan & Allen's Run, Rabbit, Run!'"

You let your mind wander as the pen glided across the paper. You began to wonder what he was like, the Radio Demon. He was an Overlord, and yet, you felt like you knew him just by how often you heard his voice on the air.

"And now, a word from the Sponsors, 'Hazbin Hotel, a haven for has-beens like yourselves. Stop here to save a sinner!' 'Looking for something to eat? Stop by Rosie's Emporium, the food is To Die For.' Now, back to our regular schedule."

Who said he didn't have a sense of humor? You mused as you recognized the next song, Jambalaya by Fats Domino.

***

Sitting behind his sound board, the antlered demon checked his ratings, an old sonar looking machine that showed dots on the areas of active listeners. He noticed one dot that's been on the monitor for days now,

'An avid listener!'

His Cheshire smile grew.

He grew a habit, of checking that one spot on the monitor. It beamed, unwavering, even throughout the night.

The radio demon grew fond of this dot. How funny, he mused. You stuck with him through days of happiness, and days of strife. Your dot became his favorite to see. Consistent. Familiar.

Until it was gone.

Alastor felt his smile dull a bit, recognizing a sense of saddness when he first became aware of the absence. At first the thought it was a glitch. After he tapped the monitor, he came to accept his most reliable dot had vanished. He wondered what happened to the listener behind the dot.

'Maybe they got bored listening. Maybe they died. Maybe their radio busted from all of their listening and they're getting it replaced.'

He never stopped looking for the dot.

Until one day he noticed a new dot.

'Could it be?'

The new dot he noticed was just like the last, and unlike the others. While there was nothing visibly different than the other dots, this one stayed on the monitor like his dot. The one located in the Vee's District. But it wasn't in the Vee's district. it was closer.

'Did they move? Is my listener alive out there?' He hoped as he played more lively songs. The more he saw the dot move closer, the more happy he became. So much so it had become visibly noticed by his comrades at the Hotel.

"Hey, You's ever see Red smile like that?"

"What do you mean? he's always smiling."

"Nah, nah, theres sumthin diff'rent 'bout'm. He's genuinely happier."

***

You moved closer and closer to the hotel as you could. This could be your shot at seeing your grandparents again. You couldn't pass it up. Each time you managed to grab a room at a cheap motel, you listened to your radio.

You noticed the Radio Demon's music taste had jumped from easy listening to more bouncy and lively music. Currently, Feeling Happy by Big Joe Turner was playing, next you had heard his song "Hide and seek".

It felt like the closer you got the hotel, the more exciting the music was getting.

'No, that's just you. You're making yourself excited by thinking of seeing your grandparents.'

After a few months trekking to the Hotel, you made it. You were greeted by the Princess herself. The other staff seemed either too bored to introduce themselves, or too excited, like Nifty.

"Well, here's your room! I'll let you get set up!"

"Thanks, Charlie. I really appreciate it. I can't wait to get started."

You happily set up your radio, turning it on while you situated the rest of your belongings.

On the other side of the hotel, high in his tower, The Radio Demon noticed a new dot, coming right from the hotel. He took shadow form to teleport to the lobby.

"Charlie, did we get a new resident?"

The demon didnt even give her a chance to speak, her eyes gleamed as her answer.

Static came from his radioed smile, an electric buzz of excitement.

As he searched the hotel in his shadow form, he neared the room with the radio playing music from the record he left on. He could hear a voice humming along to the music. He fixed himself to look presentable, smile widening (You're never fully dressed without a smile, some may say), and knocked on the door.

With the sound of shuffling, the door swung open and a short figure met his chest. He looked down, finally seeing the face of his avid listener. He felt the satisfaction one does when the hunter finally finds his prey.

"Hello, Dot."

[mythicamagic]

Kauaʻi ʻōʻō - a Xiaolumi oneshot

Rated G

Words: 2,500

Summary: Intrigued by the mournful birdsong that carries across Liyue's mountains, Lumine enlists the help of various friends to help her 'answer' the lonely call.

AN: This fic was originally created for the Xiaolumi Zine "Moonlight Rendezvous".

Kauaʻi ʻōʻō

When setting out for a commission earlier that day Lumine hadn’t really stopped to examine her party members. Sucrose had been traveling with her as a means of gathering more data on how Liyue’s mountainous terrain affected mint-leaf samples in comparison to those found in Mondstadt or Dragonspine. Before picking up her daily commissions list, they’d stepped inside Lumine’s Serenitea Pot and promptly found Faruzan and Zhongli inside; one having visited to pick up a book, the other to lounge around and enjoy free tea. 

They’d both accepted her invitation to travel through Liyue for the day and help with the commissions, following Lumine’s lead as she scoured the terrain in search of a lost artifact. 

That was how the Traveller came to realize she’d unwittingly picked up three of the most intelligent people she’d met in Teyvat. 

If I don’t ask them now, I’d be letting this opportunity go to waste…

They were already near the location. It would just take a little more hiking. 

Slyly leading her companions, Lumine glided down from Mt. Aozang toward lonely peaks. She made a show of using Elemental Sight, pretending to track the commission's lost artifact, touching down and climbing up the smooth rocks just below Qingyun Peak.

“M-might we- hah- stop for a rest?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she noticed Zhongli reaching down, offering a hand to a panting Faruzan. She accepted, allowing him to pull her up and over a ledge, huffing and adjusting her skirts with a flutter. “Thank you, young man. At least someone around here respects their elders.”

Zhongli blinked, giving a bemused smile. “Not at all.”

Opening her mouth to apologize, Lumine froze as a sound graced her ears. Lonely, long and mournful. She whipped her head around to look up at the lonely mountain peaks before them. By some miracle they’d made it on time.

Everyone in the group fell quiet at the noise. The sound- strange and foreign to their ears- repeated its sad song once more, allowing the rocks of the mountains to echo its noise, carrying it so far Lumine wondered if its cries reached Dihua Marsh.

Only when the sound drifted off and everything fell quiet once more did everyone look at each other; its haunting melody lingering like a gossamer veil, preventing them from raising their voices too high. 

“What on Teyvat was that?” Faruzan monitored the dark skies above. “Certainly nothing I’ve ever heard before.”

“Curious indeed,” sitting down upon a fallen log elegantly, Zhongli laced his fingers. “Any guesses?”

“Well I’m no forest ranger, but it sounded like an animal of some sort,” tapping her chin, Faruzan frowned to herself. “Much too otherworldly to be a common finch though.”

Lumine nodded. “I know it’s silly to say- but I almost thought of a whale the first time I heard it. In other worlds, they had similar creatures who communicated through sonar, and they sounded similar over tracking machines. Not that there’s any sky whales around here…” she hoped. “Next I thought it could be a whistle, or a flute-”

“No, not that.”

The group shifted to find Sucrose standing further away. Furious scribbling noises could be heard as she took notes. “I’ve never met one of course, but logically it could be assumed that the noises were from one of the Adepti. The power, reverb and scope is unlike a regular animal cry.”

Lumine bit her lip, catching Zhongli’s calm gaze. In truth, she’d suspected as much, but needed confirmation before doing anything about it. 

“You’re right to suspect a bird, Madam Faruzan. My first guess is…ah, what was her name, Cloud Retainer?” Sucrose hummed. “Or it could be Alatus, also known as the Golden-Winged King. I read about him in a book once. As a scientist, I’m sure you know I don’t put too much stock in folklore though. This is just an initial guess.”

And there it was. So achingly simple. The answer she’d long since suspected but hadn’t been sure what to do with, how to confront it. Lumine’s chest tightened. Her breath stalled. 

Against her better judgment, she looked to Zhongli again. He smiled softly, turning severe golden eyes to the misty mountains. 

“...And they say: 'Hark, the yaksha calls to summon his old friends to their homeland,’” he uttered, eyes softening at the memory of something that had long passed.

Sucrose lit up. “You’ve read the book too, Mr. Zhongli?”

“Oh yes, and that cry was indeed from an Adeptus. A melancholy sound, to be sure; for the song is intended as a duet you see. If it has no answer, then the lone singer feels the silence all the keener. Don’t you agree, Traveler?”

Avoiding his knowing gaze and joining Sucrose at the cliff side, Lumine let out a long exhale. 

A duet. 

A call waiting for an answer that would never come. 

Xiao. 

Had he really been calling for his companions all this time? Mourning them every night, hoping beyond hope, that one would answer? Or was there no hope in that song? Just a moonlit cry of grief and aching heartache. The Chasm had snatched away any lingering hope of seeing Bosacius again, and yet Xiao’s mournful singing had not stopped even after their return. 

Rubbing her eyes, Lumine set her shoulders back. “Right. I see.”

“Hm?”

“I’d like to answer then, if I can.”

Faruzan spoke up, skeptical. “How are you going to do a thing like that?”

The Traveler couldn’t help but smile a little. “I know some…special little guys who are well versed in music.”

-------------------------------------

Returning to Vanarana again never failed to put her at peace. The static noise of worries and stresses died down, soothed by the happy hum of a thousand voices in the forest breeze. The village greeted her warmly. To her delight, a familiar face was also there amongst the crowd. 

“Oh wow, what luck it is running into you here!” Nahida beamed, waving from within the cluster of Aranara. “To what do we owe your joyous visit?”

Sitting among the Aranara with their Archon, Lumine began explaining her idea. She’d returned to Liyue’s mountains not too long ago, but this time she’d brought along a device from Fontaine. 

Everyone gathered around the small box, gasping as Xiao’s birdsong blared out of it. Lumine quickly adjusted the volume. “It’s a recording,” she explained, smiling at the wood folk as they tittered amongst themselves. “This is what he sounds like, pretty isn’t it?” taking a breath, she felt her heart tighten. “Do you think you can help me answer him?”

The group got to work immediately. The first thing to settle on was the right instrument. The Aranara brought out a variety of wooden instruments they’d made themselves, inspired by various Sumeru instruments. Nahida tracked the pitch of each one, seeming to mentally sync up with Xiao’s birdsong enough to hear which strum of strings or musical notes matched the melody via the use of a digital dendro screen simulating volume and pitch. 

Lumine tried every instrument, strumming on the Oud, Baglama,Tanpura and Riqq before moving onto instruments Nahida seemed to produce out of nowhere; saying they should try Liyue inspired music. Though proficient in a few instruments, blowing notes into a Guanzi, Dizi, and Hulusi flute proved challenging. Lumine didn’t complain once though, drinking plenty and enjoying the process of playing each new thing. She particularly liked the aptly named; Xiao Bamboo Flute, but sadly Nahida found the sound too reedy to sync nicely with his birdsong. 

Though it took several hours, eventually with their combined efforts, they selected the right pitch to match Xiao's birdsong. Since it required a combination of different flutes, Nahida turned to Lumine with a smile. 

“You should carve a flute yourself out of wood.”

“Are you sure? I don't know anything about making musical instruments. It'll be a back scratcher more than anything,” Lumine pointed out.

“That won't matter,” unfathomably kind eyes twinkled, “trust me!”

Deciding to trust her, Lumine sat down with a long piece of wood, hollowing out the middle and crudely poking holes through it. As predicted, it looked awful.

True to her word however, Nahida took the flute in hand. After a moment, a faint green glow began seeping through the rosewood. As it left her hands to hover mid-air, the Aranaras began to sing. Sweet, joyful and childlike, their melody wrapped around the instrument, giving it a pale shine. 

Lumine’s eyes were wide as the flute floated down into her open hands. She could feel the blessings of countless souls vibrating within. Well wishes, a desire to connect. 

For some reason, her eyes stung.

It was perfect for Xiao.

She lifted her head and smiled tearfully. “Thank you, everyone.”

---------------------------------------------------

He couldn't verbalize, let alone explain to himself, why he needed to call out. 

Bosacius was dead. He'd confirmed it himself back in the Chasm. The rest of his Yaksha comrades were gone, the stories of their time serving Morax wrapped up with overexaggerated glitz into various mortal books and otherwise largely forgotten. Xiao had no reason to fold and change himself into his original form, to give voice to his grief and longing via song. 

The feelings that had once inspired him to start singing near Mt. Aozang had somewhat changed at least. No longer was he plagued by uncertainty about the fate of the last Yaksha- and though he mourned, the birdsong that burst out from his throat was meant for many lives that had come and gone, not just his brethren. He pictured Pervases, Guizhong, and other Illuminated Beasts and Gods that had once walked their world. If he reached back even further into his mind, he pictured his parents, and sang for them too.

Being honest, he’d learned his birdsong from listening to his parents perform a duet. A question posed, and an answer. Their faces were hazy, worn and blurred by the passing of thousands of years, but their song had stayed in his memories, and become transformed by his own voice and feelings. 

As he perched that evening upon a high outcropping of rock, Xiao looked out at the misty mountains, allowing himself to be lulled by emotion. Folding his ragged, teal wings that had seen better days, he let himself call out. 

Long, lingering notes escaped him instinctively. Mournful, longing. The vast emptiness above the cloudbank made the answering beat of silence all the more apparent. The mocking answer of his own cries echoing back to him as they bounced off Mt. Aozang’s rocks had felt like extra salt in the wound during his earlier days. 

But Xiao didn’t expect an answer. Though he paused after each segment of his song, it was not out of hope a kindred spirit might reply. It was just out of learned, instinctive politeness when performing a replica of a duet. He had no mate to sing his heart to. 

He could long for a gentle touch to run across the calluses of his skin or ragged feathers but the spaces between his fingers would remain empty of another’s hand clasping his own. A flash of golden hair entered his mind- before being roughly shoved aside. There was no use in dwelling on such impossible things. 

His voice carried, settling over the ravines and valleys below. He readied himself for another trill, wings shifting, the wind combing through his tail feathers.

A long, gentle melody sounded out from below. Xiao froze, voice dying in his throat. Everything in him stiffened, falling silent. He sucked in a breath so sharply his lungs protested.

The music notes were drawn out, before fluttering into a tune that was lifting, lulling, reminiscent of his own. The only difference was that this tune was full of hope. He waited for the lilting noise to die down, listening keenly a few beats longer. Reluctantly, carefully, as if afraid he were dreaming, the Yaksha called out again, his voice becoming stronger the longer he sang. 

When the music came again shortly after his segment, its purpose was unmistakable. His heart began to thrum erratically. Blood sang through his veins with renewed vigor.

A question and an answer. His eyes stung. 

It sounded…strange. So very foreign and previously unthinkable, to hear the hills be filled up with a tune that wasn’t carried by him. 

Awkwardly, and with a slight tremor- Xiao tried to sync up. He chirped a new notes, before calling out in time with the stranger’s notes. They began to sing antiphonally, or at least that’s what the music sounded like to him. The person playing their instrument was singing, no matter how he looked at it. They’d learned his song enough to replicate it almost perfectly. 

Their combined songs rose to a crescendo, notes overlapping until one couldn't be separated from the other. 

Before the song could end, Xiao pushed off from the mountain face, freefalling downwards. Wrapped in the warmth of the stranger’s lingering music, he followed the sound’s pathway, beating his wings.

Weaving around a few stone pillars, his gaze locked on a familiar figure. 

It's you…

Lumine's eyes flew wide, lowering the flute from her mouth. 

Teal feathers tangled in gently swaying blonde locks as he halted inches before her, breath stalling. Of course it was her. It hadn't occurred to him beforehand, but suddenly the answer was so simple and fitting. A puzzle piece slotting into place. It only ever could have been her. The music had even sounded like her; strong, yet simultaneously gentle and encouraging. 

Lumine smiled a little, drenched in his shadow as his form dwarfed her in size. He lowered his head, neck craning down for her hand when she reached up. 

“I heard you, many, many months ago now,” she said softly, carding her fingers through his feathers. “I only recently found out your song was a duet. I hope it's okay that I joined in.”

Bedraggled feathers shuddered. He couldn't stop the noise that escaped him: a soft keen of long forgotten wanting. Something he'd long since denied himself. 

His wings reformed into arms, feathers shedding, discarded around him in a burst of dark energy as he stumbled into her waiting embrace. 

“More than…okay,” he breathed, hiding his face in the juncture between her neck and shoulder, breathing her in. Lumine's fingers shifted to comb through his reformed hair, leaning into him just as his arms curled around her in a rare moment of indulgence. There was no Karma in those stolen touches, no war, no loss or pain. The squeeze and press of their limbs and torsos was an acknowledgement, a wordless vow.

‘I'm here. You're not alone.’

—--

End

[narwhalandchill]

hoyo rly just went and put straight up whale sonar (Very Obvious clicks starting 1.53) into wrath of monoceros caeli all the way back in 1.1 already while presumably going all tee hee abt it like its just a funky easter egg slash potential lore pipe bomb as if it wouldnt be actively ruining my goddamn life 3 years down the line after noticing it for what it was (yes shut up it took me this long after watching whale documentaries all week to hyperanalyze silhouette of catastrophes sonar to realize they used it before too) like i cant stop thinking about it

like nvm the fucking fact that the title of the track Itself is soooo fucking suspect w what we know now like. isnt it Curious how youd call a song meant for a moment depicting childes Individual Personal rage at Us the wrath of the celestial narwhal. Not the wrath of the "harbinger" not the "snezhnayan warrior" or w/e. but The monoceros caeli . That is what serves as his namesake for this moment in golden house .

they straight up said HIS wrath = the celestial narwhals wrath like Huh indeed 🤨

and Then theres this shit like the tusk drop man like he Already displays shared core characteristics with the narwhal its soo

embodying and embracing a solipsistic character and arrogant ambition so immense the sole image capable of reflecting its essence back at him in full turns out to be no less than the cosmos-cruising godlike all-devouring narwhal?? 🤨🤨 that just fucking Happens to be your own constellation? AND the creature you woke up at 14 just by balling it and tripping on your way down to the abyss??? 🤨🤨🤨 who you remain inexplicably connected to??

Ajax you are not fucking dodging the same/parallel/split/mirrored one singular entity with your narwhal allegations . Like yes its very hard to have anything concrete on the subject of their undeniable similarities but the parallels are paralleling a bit too hard methinks .

(like hypothetically given some themes of chivalry and loyalty and looking after his family in his weird dysfunctional way Wouldnt it be funny if the narwhals core motivation was also one of protection and preservation in its own eldritch way like maybe one thats all abt a sorrowful voyage of entropy and eating world after world with the ultimate goal of preserving life itself and giving birth to a new living one in its own stomach even as the universe with all its stars dims down and dies one da---- oh whoops Thats Canon)

theyre sooooooo undeniably connected but howwww what does it all ultimately pertain hoyo i need the fucking answers 😭😭

anyway tho to talk of the sonar a bit more the singular other occasion featuring it in genshin OST is obviously in silhouette of catastrophe and the thing that interests me in particular is the like. Specific nature of the sounds/references used

bc. yes theres clicks in wrath of monoceros caeli but its also like. Whose clicks? that ones not a question for silhouette obviously the entirety of the sonar references utilized is very much like. You Are Being Hunted Down In The Dark By Sound Alone By This Particular Narwhal. the clicks grind the way sonar of a whale hunting very very close to its prey would. the EDM adjacent beats intensifying and overlapping on the way to the 2nd beat drop invoke the closing in on prey. its looking for you. You are already dead (nani??!?) etc etc

but the clicks in wrath of monoceros caeli are more distant. almost curious? like. literally. theres none of the frantic nature used in silhouette with how the sonar conveys what is quite literally the imagery of a whale lunging for prey right within its reach. the clicks are uniform and sound out during a lull in the melody. their frequency doesnt speed up the sonar is just There. its more reminiscent of sonar toothed whales use when theyre just looking for information . looking out towards anything that might ping back in the distance . just keeping an eye out

and like as much as of a mr "same entity allegations undodged" childe ajax tartaglia foil hat 5head i am. it must be noted that the dude himself has Not exhibited a particular tendency for sonar clicking (and if it was His sonar id be expecting clicks Much more akin to silhouettes sounds of whale on the hunt given the emotions present during the 3rd phase aka bro is angy). but. Well. we all know who very much has and now im kinda just

okay Sure it could just be a theming thing. as has been noted already. ajax' links to the narwhal are Shady. so his boss fight OST featuring both whale call motifs (the electric guitar mimicking whalesong is still soooo) and this particular sonar might well just be intended as establishing that connection too (or maybe even foreshadowing the strengthening of their bond later in fontaine thru childes growth in power). which is already based we love it

but. also . Also. if you just let me get a bit creative (read: insane) with the possible implications of the clicks' presence in particular . Like just a little bit . Hear me out

Did. Did ajax start malding so hard during golden house that his own fucking narwhal (naturally concerned) popped by through their connection to just. Click him up a bit to see whats up with its favorite human . All the while the mans just fully in the flow state murder edition not noticing a thing .

. Is this a regular occurrence

[quillpokebiology]

Mothim Facts

(Art by zai (33333333333353 pk) on Dambooru)

-The scientific name for Mothim is "Psychidae Pappilo" which translates to "Psychic moth"

-Some Mothim have been known to keep their cloaks they've had as a Burmy and gain different typing from it as well

-Mothim and Teddiursa have a symbiotic relationship. Mothim will seak out Teddiursa to help it break into Combee hives, which both of them get a meal out of

-To stay hidden from the watchful Combee, Mothim will cloak themself in a honey scent to try and trick them. This doesn't always work however

-Mothim and the rest of its line are close relatives of Forretress

-Unlike Wormadam, Mothim don't have a permanent nest and will flutter around woods or towns every night to look for food, sleeping in the new areas they come across

-It's not uncommon to see a Mothim attracted to the light of a Lampent, only to get burned up

-Mothim usually mate with multiple Wormadam or other bugs

-Mothim are able to find Wormadam with the pheromones they produce. During mating season, they'll flutter around the area in search of them. They can smell Wormadam from seven miles away!

-Despite mostly feeding on honey, pollen, and nectar, Mothim aren't often found in these areas because Combee often make their homes there, and they chase Mothim away on sight

-You can attract Mothim to your house by rubbing beer on your trees

-While a lot of moth pokemon don't actually eat your clothes, Mothim will resort to eating your T-shirts if they don't find any nectar or pollen. Make sure you keep them well fed so they don't destroy your clothes!

-Mothim will make a squeaking sound to jam the sonar of bat pokemon

-There's a cryptid named Mothim man. They say it has the appearance of a humanoid Mothim

-A lot of people still don't know this, but Mothim's mouth actually opens sideways. But like most lepidopteran pokemon, they still have a long tongue to help slurp nectar

-As well as that, Mothim also have tiny bristles on the sides of their mouths. The bristles are thought to be a leftover from their ancestors

-There's an old Sinnoh folktale about a Mothim who charms his way into a Vespiquen's hive claiming that he's in love with her, only to flee on their wedding night with all the honey he had gathered (you can read the fable here!)

-Mothim have the best sense of smell out of all the lepidopteran pokemon

If you're curious, here are some Burmy Facts

[scotianostra]

On May 2nd 1933 the story of the Loch Ness Monster first appeared in the press, starting off a long-running debate on whether or not some unknown animal or fish inhabits the murky depths of the loch.

The modern story of The Loch Ness Monster was born when a sighting makes local news on May 2, 1933. The newspaper Inverness Courier relates an account of a local couple who claim to have seen “an enormous animal rolling and plunging on the surface.” The story of the “monster” (a moniker chosen by the Courier editor) becomes a media phenomenon, with London newspapers sending correspondents to Scotland and a circus offering a 20,000 pound reward for capture of the beast.

After the April 1933 sighting was reported in the newspaper on May 2, interest steadily grew, especially after another couple claimed to have seen the animal on land.

Amateur investigators have for decades kept an almost constant vigil, and in the 1960s several British universities launched sonar expeditions to the lake. Nothing conclusive was found, but in each expedition the sonar operators detected some type of large, moving underwater objects. In 1975, another expedition combined sonar and underwater photography in Loch Ness. A photo resulted that, after enhancement, appeared to show what vaguely resembled the giant flipper of an aquatic animal.

Further sonar expeditions in the 1980s and 1990s resulted in more inconclusive readings. Revelations in 1994 that the famous 1934 photo was a complete hoax has only slightly dampened the enthusiasm of tourists and investigators for the legendary beast of Loch Ness.

The story might have hit the headlines then, but the people around the loch have known for centuries that there was something else was sharing the loch that holds more freshwater than the whole of England and Wales combined. The first known sighting was by St Columba in the year 565.

This is taken from an 1874 translation of Vita Columbae The Life of St. Columba), written by St Adamnan in the 7th century.

"....On another occasion also, when the blessed man was living for some days in the province of the Picts, he was obliged to cross the river Nesa (the Ness); and when he reached the bank of the river, he saw some of the inhabitants burying an unfortunate man, who, according to the account of those who were burying him, was a short time before seized, as he was swimming, and bitten most severely by a monster that lived in the water; his wretched body was, though too late, taken out with a hook, by those who came to his assistance in a boat. The blessed man, on hearing this, was so far from being dismayed, that he directed one of his companions to swim over and row across the coble that was moored at the farther bank. And Lugne Mocumin hearing the command of the excellent man, obeyed without the least delay, taking off all his clothes, except his tunic, and leaping into the water. But the monster, which, so far from being satiated, was only roused for more prey, was lying at the bottom of the stream, and when it felt the water disturbed above by the man swimming, suddenly rushed out, and, giving an awful roar, darted after him, with its mouth wide open, as the man swam in the middle of the stream. Then the blessed man observing this, raised his holy hand, while all the rest, brethren as well as strangers, were stupefied with terror, and, invoking the name of God, formed the saving sign of the cross in the air, and commanded the ferocious monster, saying, 'Thou shalt go no further, nor touch the man; go back with all speed.' Then at the voice of the saint, the monster was terrified, and fled more quickly than if it had been pulled back with ropes, though it had just got so near to Lugne, as he swam, that there was not more than the length of a spear-staff between the man and the beast. Then the brethren seeing that the monster had gone back, and that their comrade Lugne returned to them in the boat safe and sound, were struck with admiration, and gave glory to God in the blessed man. And even the barbarous heathens, who were present, were forced by the greatness of this miracle, which they themselves had seen, to magnify the God of the Christians."

Another tale about St. Columba regarding the Loch Ness 'Monster' asserts that Columba gave the monster a blessing and the freedom to live in the loch for having towed Columba and his followers from one end of Loch Ness to the other in their coracles against the winds, In this version, the monster is a Scottish 'water-horse', maybe a Kelpie?,which can change its form at will; for the towing job, the monster transformed itself into an athletic young man, tied the coracles together, changed back into a 'water-horse' Although this version only seems to appear in a 1973 book " The Story of the Loch Ness Monster " and it is speculated that the author Tim Dinsdale simply made it up, a bit like many of the sightings? Well who am I to say that!

Of course Loch Ness is not the only place in Scotland that has a monster, by coincidence the subject of my "Good Morning" post, Loch Morar is said to have its own beast named "Morag".

[randomwriteronline]

Krakua thoughts... Krakua thoughts? Krakua thoughts. Krakua thoughts

Since thinking of human!Krakua as albino ive decided he cant see for SHIT. my boy can distinguish Colors and Vague Shapes and that is IT. He can read only if he squashes his face on the tablet or someone reads out loud. this does mean that the details he finds important and the physical descriptions he gives are very funny tho. like Axonn is "very wide, big hands, silver-red-black", Mazeka is "small, goes vroom, white-grey", and Jerbraz is "noisy"

Speaking of Jerbraz, hes the one Krakua is usually assigned to when Helryx decides to send him on a mission. Partly bc they get along fine, partly bc Jerbraz has a sort of "least likely to hurl the boy through the roof by accident" babysitter feeling about him, partly bc who can sneak better into places than a permanently invisible guy and a dude who can just Not Make Sound

Also Jerbraz is easily Krakuas fav member of the order. Like a large fucked up invisible cousin who can and will kill for you if you ask him nicely

Second favorite is Axonn. Big hamds comforble. Perfect to nap in

He used to be incredibly soft spoken due to Loud Sound Will Kill Us All but has since grown into speaking at varying volumes between normal and deafening, though if greatly distressed he will go back to barely perceivable whispers

I do think he absorbs all sound all the time as a reflex, at least in part to avoid fucking Dying (sound cant hurt him in the lethal way it used to when he was a matoran anymore but you know, the trauma of everyone he knows dying due to loud noise might have left some lasting impact. Just guessing). He doesnt get overwhelmed by the build up of elemental energy bc hes constantly making noise purposefully or not so hes in a sort of feedback loop where he supplies his own noise to absorb so he can make more noise etc etc

He loves being around people! People are mildly terrified of him. It doesnt help that hes very sneaky and will show up Anywhere uninvited no matter how krakua-proofed one makes the place. He crawls in like hi guys what are we doing :D and everybody else has a heart attack

I cant get over the idea of him meeting Jaller and being so immensely excited about finally having a chance to experience a sonar so he can replicate it that hes just like BLAST ME BLAST ME BLAST ME (sonar blast) (the worst 15 seconds of his life) OURGHHHHH OK IM GOOD DO THAT AGAIN (sonar blast) (another properly horrendous 15 seconds) AURGHRHHHHHH and Jaller is like "can i stop" and Krakua goes NO ANOTHER TIME IVE ALMOST GOT IT (sonar blast) EIURGRAGURGHHHHHHHH

I may have mentioned it before but Krakua is fucking brutal in combat. Sparring with members of the order could kill a weaker being very easily and he refuses to tone the intensity down in actual fights because hes learned the best enemy is the one whos knocked out cold on the ground where they cant bother you anymore! He's been taught to try and not kill whenever possible since hes still a Toa and not technically fully affiliated with the order, but they do still need to get their hands dirty so he has full permission to torture, scar, threaten, gravely injure, break, debilitate or overall traumatize opponents if he deems it necessary or useful. You can see why other people might be scared of him

Also bc i think of him often being all up in peoples faces due to shit eyesight, lots of excitement and very poor socialization i for some reason have imagined him all over that boy like some kinda lovestruck siren. Third time his captain of the guard charms strike. Bitches love a man who can never die correctly ig

Flapper girl. Thats it thats the thought

Related to that, a fight with him is like a rhythm game in hell. Its a rhythm game for him bc hes hitting every clue flawlessly. Its hell for his opponent bc theyre getting beaten within an inch of their life

In somewhat direct relation to the above, he should also have Something going on with Tobduk. I dont mean friendship or romance or rivalry or mentorship i need something more sinister. Its about their similar backgrounds and trauma and their place so strangely close to Helryx's side. Some kind of grim feeling between them, like a sense of terrible inevitability. You will be me. You will become me. You already are me. It pervades everything when they're in each others presence. Tobduk finds some kind of cosmic irony in it. Krakua doesnt like it. They speak of it in long uncomfortable silences, mental shields rendering the Suletu's powers null, and it's very unpleasant.

His staff should be hollow so he can play it like a didgeridoo. Imagine being in a fight with some willowy kid and he pulls his staff to his mouth and a loud wooaoaooo sound just fucking crushes you against a rock. Thatd be baller

I think he has. Some mildly morbid thing about destiny. He doesnt really have a duty nor unity so instead he leans hard into the third virtue and more specifically the whole "there is an unavoidable reason for why everything happens" aspect of destiny, because it makes terrible things like the mass murder of his village and the possible repeat of that situation with the Order of Mata Nui (if you interpret him becoming "the lone hero of a besieged island fortress" as all other members but him dying) more bearable. Maybe once he meets his destiny he will just wait to die, because what needed to happen happened and he has no purpose anymore. Maybe he will be caught in a loop where his destiny keeps fulfilling itself over and over, because he keeps seeking out the requirements to fulfill it whether hes conscious of it or not.