#thank you for bein patient it means a lot ^^

[ceo-mochee]

Hppy 9th anniversary to MCSM!!! I don't rlly got much rn so uhhhh

GO MY TNT MANIAC THAT I'M SO UNHEALTHYLY OBSESSED WITH 💥💥💥💥💥💥

(Made him for an art collab hehe)

Plus some other old (Lukxel) sketches I've been hiding too, all from a fanfic I'm currently fighting myself to finish LOOLLL

[redheadspark]

Hey Hii I love your writings!

Could you write something about Druig and the fem avenger (maybe black widow) reader? If you don't write Druig, it could be Shang-Chi. I love both of these guys so much! Thanks in advance~

A/N - THIS IS GREAT! Sorry for not writing this soon, but I do hope you like it, Anon!

Breathe

Summary - After the Emergence, Druig get a call from an old flame

Warnings - Just some fluff with a HINT of angst

The phone rang at least three times before Druig could answer it, fishing out the phone from the bottom of his duffle bag he packed from his village in the Amazon.

“ ‘Ello?” He asked, Instantly he was going to be bombarded by questions on the other end of the line.

“Druig?!  What in the hell?!  Why is there a Celestial coming out of the Indian Ocean?”

“Sweetheart, can you take a breath for me?”

“How can I take a breath when there’s a massive Celestial statute sticking out of the Indian Ocean!  That has you name written all over it!”’

“Hey—“

“DO NOT HEY ME!  THIS HAD YOUR NAME WRITTEN ALL OVER IT AND YOU KNOW IT—“

“Stop!  Stop and take a breath for me please,”  Druig finally Said into the phone, looking up from his spot in the kitchen to see the rest of the Eternals outside the farmhouse and at the horse corral, talking together and laughing at something Phastos said.  Druig could see the inventor look over at Druig through the kitchen window, raising an eyebrow at him as if he was silently asking who he was talking to on the phone. 

Druig shook his head and walked back to the living room, plopping down on the couch to rub his face as he heard you on the other line.  You were taking a few long breaths, trying to calm yourself down as Druig was patiently waiting on the couch.  Finally, after what seemed like a good minute or two of you breathing and calming yourself down for Druig to hear, Druig finally spoke.

“Druig, that Celestial is on every news channel all over the globe, and my boss is looking for answers,” You explained to him on your end of the phone, “You need to explain some things to me, as much as you can,”

“Your Boss, as in the Winter Soldier?” 

“More as in the new Captain America,” You replied, “Sam is not keen in not knowing what is going on around the globe, especially if it’s extraterrastial related.

“I’m sure you can whip something up from your Black Widows days, bein’ an ex-spy at all,” Druig said in almost a tease, you inhale sharply.

“Druig, this is not funny. I’m worried that something else is stirring up and you have something to do with it,” You explained wholeheartedly.

“I know, luv,” Druig replied, “I don’t mean to make it light.  But it was a near Emergence that we had to stop before the end of the world,”

A pause was heard on your end.

“Emergence?” You asked him.  Druig sighed heavily.

“It’s a lot to explain,” He started to explain to you, but the house suddenly started to vibrate.  Druig had to paise, feeling the walls and floor shake beneath his feet as he slowly stood up.  It might have felt like an earthquake, not as big as the one he felt a week prior when Tiamut became active under the earth’s surface.  After hearing some of the horses from the corral neighing in agitation, the soft sounds of what sounded like a jet high in the sky were coming towards the farmhouse.  

But this didn’t sound like a typical jet.

Phastos and the others came running into the farmhouse, Druig shot up from the couch and looked over at him as Phastos was pointing towards the front of the house, “You hear that?”

What is it? Makkari signed as the rounds of the jet were coming closer and closer within seconds.  Druig was just as confused at first.  Yet it only took him a few longs to recognize the sounds of the jet, he’d heard it all too well many times before.  His own heart both dropped and seated faster at the same.

“Honey….please don’t tell me I’m hearing your jets out here in South Dakota,” Druig said slowly in the phone to you as the Jet was now sounding beyond loud, almost right above the farmhouse as Phastos shot him a look.

“Honey?!  Who in the hell is Honey?” He asked as Druig walked out through the front doors hastily, the others hot on his heels.  Right in front of the farmhouse, a Jet was lowering down onto the grass.  It looked sick, black in color, and almost decked out with plenty of firepower to boot.  To anyone else, it would seem threatening and intimidating since there was no way of knowing where the jet came from and who was flying it.  

But to Druig, he knew exactly who it was.

“Is that an Avenger’s Jet?!” Phastos son Jack yelled out in excitement as the jet finally touched down on the ground, the wind dying down and the jet turning off slowly.  

“Jack, get in the house!” Phastos huffed at his son as the ramp was lowering slowly.  Druig was watching the ramp with steady eyes, turning off the call on the phone as he saw boots descending down the ramp at a rapid pace.  

Light brown hair in a high ponytail, braids embedded in the locks as bright green eyes were drilling into Druig's blue orbs.

You, in your ex-widow outfit, walking straight to Druig with no signs of slowing down.

"Who in the hell?" Phastos asked as Thena stood in a protective and threatened stance, Makkari looking in confusion. But you were not focusing on them, only on Druig who was giving you a sincere look and a small smile.

Once you were nose to nose, Druig's smile briefly widened.

"Hello Sweetheart," he hummed to you, though you were simply giving him a hard stare

Within a second, you punched him hard.

The others gasped as Druign grunted and took the blow, ducking a bit as you glared at him with clenched fists. Makkari was about to run over at you when Thena grabbed her arm to stop her. Druig reluctantly held out a hand to the others at the porch as he grasped his nose.

"It's fine...I'm fine," He called out, inhaling sharply as he looked back at you with a sigh, "I deserved that one, didn't I?"

"That is for keeping me in the dark with this Celestial, and for not calling me back in a whole month! I was this close to flying out to see if you were still alive in the Amazon!" You huffed at him as he grasped part of his nose. He squinted in pain.

You rolled your eyes, reaching over to move his fingers to the right spot on his nose.

"Don't worry, I didn't break it. It'll bruise and that's it," You mumbled, Druig grinning as you through the same pain he was feeling along his nose, "Druig, you scared me, and I know deep down this Celestial has something to do with you,"

"It does, luv," He replied as he then gestured to the group that was watching from the porch, "These are the other Eternals,"

You looked over, seeing the three of them watching with a hint of amusement on their faces from your punching the mind controller in the nose. Your eyes went wide, Phastos awkwardly waving while both Thena and Makkair just grinned and nodded in your direction.

"Your family?" You asked Druig as you looked back at him.

"Some of them. We lost some along the way, but we're all that left with two others," Druig explained as he took your hand in his, "We stopped the Emergence and saved the world,"

"Oh...okay," You sighed and rang your fingers over your face, "This is a lot to take in,"

"I'll say," Phastos muttered under his breath as Thena walked over a little bit with her intense eyes on you.

"You know Druig?" She questioned you, you were about to say something when Druig reached over to lace your fingers together, palm to palm. Your fingerless gloves against his own calloused hand were a natural feel for you two to have, and you've had this sensation for some time as the others finally realized what was going on.

"You're dating.....and Avenger?" Phastos asked Druig, Makkari grinning from ear to ear and almost bouncing on her toes.

I have questions! She signed rapidly as you felt a tint of blush on your cheeks.

"Technically she's an ex-Black Widow who was recruited to the Avengers," Druig explained, Makkari was now running over in a blistering pace as she was beaming so bright at you from the news of your title. You were taken back slightly, but the smile on her face was warm.

Black widows are the stuff of legend! Please tell me all you know! She signed to you so quickly her fingers were literally dancing in front of your face. You were smiled and signed "Yes," Makkari giggled and looking at Druig.

I like her! She said to Druig as he finally fully smiled.

"Yeah, I like her too, Kari,"

The End

[guzmabuglord]

AUGUST’S MUSE MIXUP MADNESS — A CHANGE IN CIRCUMSTANCE!

“UNDERNEATH MY NAME, IT SAYS ‘HE EARNED HIS LIFE!’”

[pt: Underneath my name, it says he earned his life end pt]

Yo! I’m Guzma. Name’s a work in progress, so don’t be too mean bout it, yeah?

I’m the twice-champion of the Alola league. Yeah, Kukui made it, but it ain’t rigged, promise. I’m just stronger than all the other guys who competed in it! Ha!

Tryin to train for round three PLUS workin on professor stuff with Kukui’s been… real hectic, yknow? but I’m workin hard!

…I’m kinda jittery bout bein on here, to be honest. Like a Wimpod, I guess. ha. just— be patient with me, arright?

oh, wait— Here’s my team.

Really love my guys a lot!! Ask me for pics if you want em. Golisopod’s my ace, if that matters.

…thanks for readin? or something?

((OOC UNDER CUT!))

YA BOY’S FIRST MUSE MIXUP MADNESS BABEYYY!!! WOOHOO!!

this is Guzma, starring in a change in circumstance with @burgundy-twice !!! GO CHECK HIM OUT!!!

he’s younger and softer and an alolan champion, is the gist of it. look at my boy go!

EVERY SORT OF ASK IS OPEN (pelipper mail, musharna, normal ask, etc)!! get interactions with this guy while he’s still around!!! he won’t be for too long!!

all posts will be tagged with #muse mixup madness and #twicechamp guzma !!

have a bugterful day everyone!! happy august!! :3

[miqojak]

Send 🏅 to see a screenshot or gpose of which you are especially proud.

Obscure Screenshot Meme

I've been AGONIZING over this, since I have a ton of old screenshots of which I'm proud - I'll look at a photo-shoot and be like 'this is my favorite'... then I'll say the same thing about the next one! The first ones here are because I just...the lighting/shadows just get me (a character half in shadow is just a sweet spot for me, especially when it's thematic for them), the door's colors tying in with the outfit - and really, because I kinda accidentally made this outfit all on my own and fell in love with it! It's mostly Solona's stuff, except for the shoes, but all from different outfit packs... and I just like how the high-waisted skirt works so well with the Hilda shirt! (I also can't help but love the very subtle middle-finger Jak is giving in the first one - as if to say 'eyes up higher, pal!') Plus I just can't stop using Reshade's 'magic border' feature that makes screenshots pop, and I'll never not love that.

These beach ones are because once again, I'm in love with vivid colors!! Plus it's really, really hard to get a picture with the fireworks and time it just right - no matter what tools you're using, it's just about timing and patience, and... the ADHD means I'm not the most patient person when I'm excitedly waiting on something, so this was an endeavor...and then I ended up with several good shots with different color-bursts of fireworks, and was like... well, you can only cram so many shots on a post before it's cluttered, so I picked one with the green/yellow color burst because that's the color of her eyes! Here, I can toss out a couple other contenders - the double burst of fireworks for cool factor, or the almost-bi-colors for bein' heckin' gay! (I came very close to using that one, but the tie-in to her eye color was too good!) PLUS it has proven quite difficult to find a swimsuit that I feel good putting Jak in... one where it feels like she could feel sexy - but it's not just thin strips of cloth that make me feel like she's a piece of meat on sale. She doesn't mind people looking, but you can't give it all away! (It also cracks me up that the lighthouse lights are like, highlighting her butt? xD She'd approve, she's proud of her assets! )

Last but not least - I love re-visiting screenshots I tried to do when I was new, and tackling them anew now that I have a lot of practice under my belt. They're usually not exactly the same, but in the same or similar vein, as an homage - and this is basically what I had in my head when I first made Jak, and I had to use the anemos jacket as her leather jacket! The Streetwear set was a godsend for her, as well as the Yorha stuff, but I've never had any qualms about most of the base Miqo racial gear - Jak likes her skirt! As a former 'streetrat' as she was so 'lovingly' dubbed by her now-partner, she learned that if people are admiring the view, they're not as likely to notice that you've robbed them blind while they let base animal instinct distract them. But here, I get to finally envision her tattoos, her style, her attitude... I've been really working on my expression-work (it's not easy), because Jak is expressive! I want to convey a little more than the base emotes give, most times (though there's nothing wrong with a /sneer most days... I just want more brow movement sometimes! XD) Also! The Yorha explorable zone is just... top notch for Gpose shots for her! I'd love more diverse backdrops (And I do mix it up at times!), but this one is so often the best suited to her aesthetic, that I keep coming back and using different areas of it.

Thank you so much for this ask! Sorry it took a bit for me to decide...then I got long-winded, as usual!

[lewmagoo]

The final part of we own the sky was fantastic!!!!

‘Off to Amelia Elementary you went, with Amy talking up a storm, far too awake for the early morning hour. You simply listened to her, amused, as she asked Rhett question after question. He answered them all with patience, happy to entertain her curiosity.’

‘When he pulled into the carpool line, he threw the truck into park and slid out of his seat, boots scraping against pavement. He reached out and took Amy’s small hand in his, guiding her out of the truck. You watched fondly as the girl wrapped her arms around his middle, and he leaned down to kiss the top of her head.’

That part just made my heart swell and my eyes tear up. It’s so sweet how rhett is very patient when amy asks a lot of questions and then kisses her on the top of her head before she goes to school

Reading the part where they were looking for amy and driving away from the twister had me biting my nails the entire time

‘Both of you turned, eyes on the tornado. You reached out, grabbing for Rhett’s hand, fingers intertwining, holding on for dear life. He moved quickly, his body shielding yours and Amy’s. If things went south, he could not protect you, not from this, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.’ 😭😭😭

That last line is where I stopped biting my nails and just started crying

‘He thought of all she’d lost. She had endured the worst loss that anyone could suffer, and yet, she was the picture of strength and grace. He was so grateful for the mother he had. He knew that he put her through a lot by choosing to chase, after that very same thing had been what took her oldest son from her. And yet, she never once told Rhett to give up what he loved, even if it scared her to no end.’

Rhett being so appreciative of his mom and understanding the grief and hardships she’s had to go through made my heart ache so bad 🥲🥲🥲

“No. You did so much more than that. You go from bein’ fuckin’ terrified of twisters, to conquering one of ‘em. Pretty amazing if y’ask me.”

I love this part so much!! Not only because rhett is being his sweet self but because it’s so true!! The reader is so badass how she conquered her fear!!

‘He couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at his mouth at the sight of you, so effortlessly beautiful, and all his.’

I really needed a cute and fluffy moment like that after all the previous crying lmao

The ending was perfect with them moving in together, the reader getting a job overseeing the field-testing of weather devices and rhett testing storm chasing vehicles!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Ready, honeybee?” Rhett asked you as you climbed into the truck. 

With a confident nod, you replied, “As I’ll ever be. Let’s go own the sky, baby!”

I LOVE IT SO MUCH WHEN THE TITLE OF THE FIC IS MENTIONED IN THE STORY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

IT MAKES ME LOSE MY MIND!!!!!!!!!!!!🫨🫨🫨

Thanks for the tag!!! 🩷🩷🩷

hehe, i love reading your little commentaries on each chapter! seeing all the little parts that stood out to you always does my heart good. thank you for always showing so much support, i'm very grateful. i had so much fun writing this series and knowing it has resonated with so many people means a lot to me. thanks for reading! 🥹💜

[a-mint-bear]

just like to say sorry for the lack of content lately, moving took a lot more out of me than i thought it would and ive got mad writer's block with this Boss Lady fic

im gonna try and write some different stuff to get the juices flowing in the mean time and then take another stab at it so thank you for bein patient y'all

ive been doing meetings and conferences the last week and a half and it's been eating up all my time and energy, but i keep getting ideas for writing and sticking them in the notes in my phone, stay tuned ✌️

[pacifistcowboy]

Can we get an update on that one dude you were obsessing over?

I’m invested at this point.

(It’s alright if you don’t feel comfortable sharing)

jejsfjejchwjf sure!!

yesterday i went to his house n watched star wars with him and two of his friends which was fun and indicated that he does in fact enjoy my company, but it left me more doubtful of him having romantic interest in me :[

we sat on the same couch n he asked me multiple times to move over ‘cus our knees would be touching or something, which obviously is fine but it got me thinkin’ that if he’s bothered by even slightly touching me then he probably doesn’t like me romantically.

the first time we interacted i got the slightest vibe he might’ve liked me, and it was only later when i got feelings for him, so since i kinda thought there was a chance the feelings were reciprocated, i let my feelings run wild and didn’t try to stifle them. but now that i think he only likes me platonically, i feel like a creep for fantasising about kissing n cuddling him shdjshfh :/

but then today at college i got the vibe again that there’s still a chance he could maybe like me??? idk!! we stare at each other a lot but that might be because i’m the only friend sitting in front of him and not beside him, and tbf he and one of our friends also did a lotta staring at each other today so that could just be a thing he does.

so uh i definitely still have a crush on him! but it luckily hasn’t made me unable to be normal with him (“normal” lmao. we ain’t normal but you know what i mean) and i can handle this stage i’m in right now of not really knowing if he likes me back. i’m hoping it’ll become clear sometime soon so i can know if i should tell him how i feel or try to move on from these feelings. but i’m patient :]

thank u for the ask n for bein’ intrigued by my funky journey of discovering i do in fact experience romantic attraction!!

[parieha-aaa]

@earthssprout​ asked:  WHAT ARI LACKED IN RESOURCES, SHE MADE UP FOR IN HEART; she had spent the entire day prior to this Very Special One gathering only the loveliest flowers she could find—that means no missing petals, and the petals that were there must be without any blemishes ( though Ari knew that these imperfect flowers were special in their own way, so she only gathered and tucked them away for a later use ).

The stems of the flawless blooms were then weaved into the thick band of Chuuya's hat, so it looked as if the flowers had sprouted from it. An accessory that seemed so plain before was now made bright by this sprinkle of color, and Ari kept adding and adding, till it was nearly more flowers than hat.

Ari had done this with careful hands, for she was sure that this hat was Very Important to Chuuya, as he wore it every day, and it would not make for a good Birthday Surprise if she had somehow RUINED his Very Important hat. She used these same hands to place the hat back on his nightstand. Then she stood back for a moment and smiled wide, feeling both proud of her hard work and hopeful that Chuuya would like his new decorations.

So there little Ari waited quietly, watching Chuuya sleep peacefully until the Sun finally peeked through the blinds. That's how Ari knew it was time to wake up! Knowing it would be a disruptive sort of effort to scale the side of his bed ( as she always required Chuuya's assistance with that task ), Ari chose to wake him from where stood instead, stretching her little arm as far as it could reach and giving his shoulder a gentle tap!

" haaa … happy birthday, Papa! " The child cheered, though she made sure to do so softly, as no one liked loud noises first thing in the morning. She gave his shoulder a few more gentle taps—tap, tap, tap—just to be sure, and then she stepped back, smiling wide and bouncing on her feet. Oh, how EXCITING!

Ari waited patiently for him to do what he must. Then, when he would finally turn his attention to her, she hoped that he would notice his Very Important hat as well. To be sure, she took a step closer to the nightstand.

" I … I mmm … I made this for Papa, please! f — for his Happy Birthday! "

         oh  ,  it  would  take  a  lot  for  him  to  be  anything  but  pleased  when  ari  was  the  one  waking  him  up  ,  hangover  or  otherwise  .  still  ,  he  cracks  a  smile  when  she  presents  herself  to  him  over  the  edge  of  his  bed  .  blue  eyes  catch  the  sight  of  his  own  hat  upon  the  tiny  girl’s  head  ,  encircled  with  carefully  crafted  and  secured  flowers  of  varying  types  .  (    he  hadn’t  taught  ari  hanakatoba  yet  ,  but  he  sure  intended  to  ,  one  of  these  days  .    )    thankful  to  wake  up  on  his  own  time  ,  chuuya  slowly  and  sluggishly  drug  himself  to  sit  upright  ,  helping  ari  up  to  the  bed  with  a  mere  trace  of  a  finger  ,  the  one  that  allowed  him  to  do  magical  ,  unbelievable  things  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  .  once  she  was  up  there  ,  he  set  her  down  in  front  of  him  ,  amused  by  her  antics  with  verlaine’s  hat  ,  now  his  own  for  years  .          ❝    mornin’  ta  you  too  ,  darlin’  .    ❞     he  says  ,  optics  fond  as  he  spares  her  the  gravity  of  the  gaze  he  gave  onto  others  .  with  a  pretend  hum  ,  he  lifts  a  finger  to  his  chin  as  if  to  analyze  his  own  thoughts  .     ❝    my  birthday  ?  you  think  ?   ah  ,  jeez  ,  gettin’  one  year  closer  to  bein’  some  old  geezer  .  you’d  still  love  me  as  a  grumpy  old  guy  ,  right  ?   ❞     rhetorics  aside  ,  he’s  smiling  ,  running  a  hand  right  through  the  girl’s  locks  and  ruffling  them  as  sweetly  as  he  could  muster  .  she  deserved  nothing  but  the  best  ,  after  all  .      ❝    heh  ,   may  be  my  birthday  ,  but  it’s  our  day  .  so  waffles  or  pancakes  for  breakfast  ?  which  d’ya  like  ?    we’ll  have  ‘em  with  sprinkles  ‘n  all  that  mess  ,  too  .     ❞ 

[bullseye-stoddard]

"Oh, so it's kinda like a decathalon? Sorta?" Bullseye asked, trying to wrap his mind around what the Grand Prix could involve. He knew about human sporting events like the Olympics, but he still could not really wrap his mind around magic and how it could be done competitively. "Sorry, 'm jus'…always a li'l in th' dark when it comes t' magic. Despite bein' a Magick myself, I couldn't tell you nothin' 'bout other kinds. Th' fact that I don' even like t' fess up t' my own skills don' help none either." He held out his glass for Paul to refill it, thinking over what he was saying. He still could not grasp vampires wanting to do something like that, because as Paul said, participating meant exposing themselves. "I can even fathom that, an' I'm one o' 'em. I mean, I guess they had their reasons, an' it's great that they were able t' get somethin' like that started. But you know, I'm one o' th' weird ones that likes t' hide away. Plenty o' vampires are better at passin' through th' human world than I am, so I can only guess they saw beyond th' risks t' themselves an' looked at the benefits t' others instead." He took a sip of his drink, then said softly, "Wish I could be that brave." Bullseye was glad to hear that he was not the only person who did not know Lightning. So he probably was not the only one in town who had given him a blank stare when he announced who he was. "Ah, that 'splains a lot. Glad t' know I'm not th' only one outta th' loop. I guess it's a lot smaller o' a loop than I thought! But I gotta say, I can understand a li'l bit o' how hard it is t' get outta your comfort zone. I mean, I came from th' opposite end, wit' no one knowin' me an' me havin' t' adjust t' bein' out among people ag'in. But I can see how th' opposite would be hard too. Least I wasn't th' only one burstin' his bubble!" He chuckled at Paul's assessment, again willing to give Lightning a little benefit of the doubt. "We were all stupid an' young once. In my case, I'm still kinda both, though th' latter's mostly in th' looks department. But I ain't nearly as worldly as I should be after almost two centuries, so maybe I'm still more young than I really wanna let on." Things were hard back in Bullseye's youth, and the crux of the matter was that if he had not come across Pete and the Round Up gang, he might well have starved to death, since no one else had taken pity on him. "Yeah, they do mostly get that part righ' in th' movies. It was tough back then, an' when it was hard t' make a decent, law-abidin' livin', it prob'ly always seemed easier t' break th' law. But like I said, for me, it was more about findin' a place t' belong, even if that wasn't th' best place t' be." Paul's compliments would surely have made Bullseye blush if he was capable of doing so. As it was, he murmured, "Aw shucks," and stared down at his glass for a bit. Then, after taking another sip, he looked back up and said, "That's awful nice o' you, Paul, an' I'm glad you think so highly o' me. I'm tryin' t' be all that, an' I hope I'm doin' good. It's jus' hard for me t' see past my, er, other side. But I'm sure glad you can." Smiling, he continued, "I never 'spected t' meet someone like you, who wouldn't give me th' cold shoulder after findin' out what I am. You're one o' th' kindest, most helpful an' most patient people I've ever met period, an' bein' as I been 'round a darn long time, that's sayin' somethin." Raising his glass, he added, "Thanks so much for thinkin' so well o' me, an' thanks for bein' a wonderful friend yourself."

@doc-hudson

"Myeah" Paul nodded as he aired his drink a little, never minding that it didn't really needed it "'t's difficult to explain, really, you'd have to see a 'race' to fully get it. 's not only 'bout speed, but also 'bout agility 'n general and creativity to navigate obstacles -hell, Battle Specialty Sorcerers also do pretty well when they join"

He then took a sip of his whiskey, then moved towards the almost forgotten bottle in order to refill both his glass and Bullseye's.

"I feel like we owe them big time" he said, with a shrug "Those Vampires, I mean; I know the relationship you guys and the rest of the Magicks have 's pretty complicated-"

(Not unlike with the wolves).

"-and that Radiator Springs has a couple o' things to say 'bout their choices-" Doc added with a joking tone mostly to diminish the impact of it and maybe help Bullseye forget about the less-than-pleasant part of the story "-but I find it...I dunno, heartwarmin', in a way? That they spent so much of their time, money and effort helpin' a specially niche sport become bigger, specially when participatin' there would...you know, force a Vampire to expose themselves 'n a way, due to the rules"

It was...complicated. There wasn't much privacy there: people knew that if you participated on the Magick Grand Prix, you had to be a Magick and...well, one had to disclose what kind of Magick they were, which was easier for some of them: for those that were 'benign' Magicks or more common ones-

-even there, where different natures were celebrated, there were still a bit of taboos. It was rather ironic, and sad.

But things were changing, little by little, and the fact that Vampires had helped bring the sport to were it was today, helped a little.

'But in all fairness, most people prob'ly would know him. He jus' happened t' get stuck wit' th' one guy who's been under a proverbial rock for a hundred years.'

Paul laughed at that, shaking his head 'no' in return.

"Nah, 's okay. Again, we're part of a very niche sport an' the kid has a bit of an ego"

He paused.

"Had" he corrected "He's well-known 'n some circles, specially 'round California, but he's spent so much there that I guess he forgot what it was like outside o' 'em. That's why he had a hard time adaptin' to bein' a somewhat-average-Joe again; Again, 'm sorry he didn't give you a glowin' first impression he's just...a little bit stupid and young"

And he couldn't help but laugh at that part because...well, in a way, he was, too, compared to Bullseye: young.

(Also, a little bit stupid, he guessed, since wisdom came along with age most of the time).

Again, It was easy to forget about...well, that, about the age difference between them when they were ironically physically inverted and...well, it was an exercise in suspension of disbelief, too: for everything Paul knew about the wild west had been formed by books and movies (and the occasional comic book, sure), and as such felt like too far away of a time, felt unreal to him.

But it had been real to Bullseye: and his stories reminded Doc of that, and that things weren't always black and white; Things weren't about good and bad guys, and sometimes those classifications overlapped and didn't make the other worse or better because of it.

"Things were hard" he nodded "I get it: A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do an' sometimes that takes us places we probably wouldn't have gone to otherwise"

Bullseye being a former bandit was still a surprise, but Paul could accept it -probably because of how far away that part of his story was to the current day, and that the man admitted to being there along for the ride as opposed to really having his heart into it.

"You're probably one of the nicest people I know, Bullseye" he said, after taking yet another sip of his drink "and definitely the nicest old-timey bandit I've ever met"

That last part was, of course, said mostly in jest.

"I don't really care what you did before, nothin' 's changin' what I think and feel 'bout you: and that's that you're one of the kindest, most helpful, most patient people 'round here"

He smiled and uncharacteristically soft smile, as he looked at the other man.

"An' wonderful friend to have"

@bullseye-stoddard

[destructivour-aa]

//

[starryeyed-char]

I know it's Sunday, but the update of The River's Curse should be up tomorrow

...please don't kill me

[keilemlucent]

been thinking,, about the fact that kei can sense when his babys brain is Too Full and is bein mean </3 will simply collect the poor thing in his arms before he proceeds to fuck every overwhelming and self depreciating thought out of their conscious, promising to let them talk about it after if they really want to 🥺

okay look i have been just... staring at this 🥺 thinking, having thoughts

(nsfw)

warnings: god, the reader cries a lot. dacryphilia, baby. keigo being manipulative in a nice way. reader had a bad day, keigo makes it better. 

keigo's uncomfortably good at reading people. he can keep up his own façade easily (if he has a good reason), and he's unparalleled in figuring out if he's dealing with someone putting up a front.

and considering how well he knows you, you don't stand a chance at hiding anything from him.

he can tell by the downward curve of the corner of your lips that not only are you sad, you're on the verge of goddamn tears. you tend to hole yourself up when you're in a bad spot, hunkering down until the sticky feeling has cleared from your chest. however long that is.

it's a good thing keigo is persistent.

when he gets home from his own day, a relatively good one that left a spring in his step, he can't help faltering when he arrives home and sees you cuddled up in a throw blanket on the couch. you hide the best you can, in a way that keigo recognizes it immediately. knees tucked beneath you and a big, doughy plushie squished in your arm.

you flash him a little sidelong look, eyes dim and puffy and give him the softest greeting he's heard from you in a while. something in his chest aches. it hastens him to tug off his jacket and get you in his arms as fast he can.

he still smells like cold air and his stale cologne. his wings tuck tightly to his back as he carefully slips behind you, pulling you into his lap. you push at his chest at first, muttering some nonsense about how you were 'fine' and he should 'shower while you got started dinner.'

"so that's how it is?" keigo pressed a few kisses to the back of your head. he ducks down to nip at your ear and breath his words as close as he can. "i don't want you dismissing how you feel."

you've already talked about it, how important it is for you to be honest and accept support when you need it. it's a work in progress, and keigo’s oddly patient. and resourceful.

you ball your hands into fists and chew on your lip. your brow creases and you rub at it with the meat of your thumb. if you had any less restraint, you would’ve whined and keigo knows it. 

he prods you, gently. asking about your day, spurring you to let loose that tight ball he knows it tangled in your chest. he can feel how rough your breaths are. how your heart thumps a little too fast for comfort. it quickens as he rubs his hands over your sides and tries to get you to open up for him. 

“i-i can’t, kei’,” you admit softly. you turn to lay you ear against his chest. your hand finds his, and you squeeze so hard, it makes his fingers ache. “n-not today. ‘m s-sorry. i don’t want to think a-about it.’

you sniffle and all of keigo’s resolve disappears.

“... you don’t want to think?” he asks, arms wrapping around you middle. 

you swallow and paw at your cheek with your free hand, “i-i’d be nice if i didn’t have to.”

he knows your overwhelmed.

(and he knows if he makes it worse, it’ll make you feel better, as fucked as the concept is.)

keigo clicks his tongue, tsking, and using a few feathers to raise your face so you’re nose-to-nose. he lowers his gaze, stroking over your tear-burned cheeks with a sad little smile.

“my baby doesn’t want to think, is that right?” his voice is syrupy sweet and it makes your shoulders go slack almost instantly. the gratification of seeing you already begin to let go goes straight to his dick. 

your nod, sweet and buttery, eyes wide.

he cups your face, keeping his grip firm on your jaw so you don’t dare think about anything other than him. if he can’t crack you open with small talk, he’ll happily fuck you brainless. 

“awww, sweetheart,” his tone is patronizing, but god, you need it. “you’ve been being too hard on yourself today, haven’t you?”

you chew your lip, leaning in his hold before nodding again. seeking quiet approval with your hands over his chest. seeking touch and praise, tentatively. you really are the sweetest.

“m-maybe,” you finally, finally, admit. “it w-wasn’t a good day, ‘kei.” 

“was it bad?”

“... r-really bad, keigo— “

and you, the sweet, tender little thing you are, burst into tears. 

keigo seizes the opportunity tuck your back to his chest, settling you in his lap with his wings circling the two of you. his stubbly chin rubs against your cheek as he uses one hand to rub away you fresh tears while the other slips lower.

you’re just wearing thin, sleep shorts. he massages high on your inner thigh, urging you with hushed whispers and praises. keigo is just ‘so proud of you’ —

“thank you for telling me,” he coos, slipping his hand over your covered sex. you jump in his hold and your cries stutter in your throat. cute. he chuckles, “awww, you’re just strung out and need some help.”

you nod again.

keigo takes hold of your jaw. hard enough to make a clear point as he meets your gooey gaze. 

“you have to say it, sweet pea.”

“... ‘m just having a bad time,” you so, so easily admit. more tears roll down your cheeks. “a-and i, um— “ 

you fumble as a sob gets stuck in your throat. but, keigo is patient. you’re almost there. 

he slips a hand into your shorts, past your panties and slides a single finger between your lips. you whimper and squirm as a few of keigo feathers pushed your legs over the top of his knees, forcing you thighs wide open for him. 

it’s a very, very pretty sight. and a beneficial one.

“almost there.” he whispers to you with a kiss.

he slips his hand away, only to pop a few of his fingers into his own mouth and wet them. quick as can be, he’s on you, circling you clit. slowly. enough to give you that final push to just give in.

“a-and i need h-help!”

keigo is so, so proud. god, he’s glowing as he picks up the pace of his teasing to full stimulation. he presses his lips to your neck, only giving you soft kisses and taking nothing.

“do you need me to take care of you?” he asks, teasing your slit and nearly moaning when he teasing your cunt and it so easily slicks his finger. 

“p-please.”

you let out a ragged sob as he presses a single finger into you. you’re tight, very tight, and it makes sense, giving how wound up and worked up you’ve been for the last however-many hours. he can work on that, temper it out of you just like he knows so well how to do. 

you’re still crying as he crooks his finger in yuor cunt, and he’s sure you’ll be weeping for the rest of the night. but, you need it. he’s sure you’ll lay against his chest in the early hours of the morning and really tell him what happened today that got you so upset, but for now?

for now, you just to forget and he’s happy to oblige. 

[reikeip]

Crossroad ♱ Crowd 1

Talks of death and depression

Location: Downtown

The next day

Koga: Sakuma-senpai~!

Rei: Hm. Oh, good mornin’... Puppy ♪

Koga: Who ya callin’ puppy!? And it isn’t the time to say good mornin’, it’s dusk already!

Is that it, ‘cause Sakuma-senpai is always abroad… are ya jet lagged?

Koga: Ah whatever! Look here look here, I brought the guitar ya left in the underground livehouse, Sakuma-senpai!

I’ve taken care of all the maintenance it needed myself, fufun ♪

So tonight, make sure ya charm everyone with a performance so flashy it makes ‘em swoon!

Rei: Oh~ guess that’s why I couldn’t find it… I see, Puppy’s been takin’ care of it for me. Good boy, good boy ♪

Koga: Don’t pat my head!?

Rei: Haha. What a good mood you’re in, Puppy… This past week, did ya get some thorough instruction from Bouzu? How much have ya improved?

Koga: Oh. My knowledge is growin’ so fast I’m even surprised myself~ that priest is surprisingly good at teachin’!

I can even play the hard chords an’ all that now!

He gives me too many annoyin’ lectures, which kinda gets on my nerves, but he did really help me step up my game!

So, I guess I can say I’m a bit grateful for ‘im!

Rei: If ya are thankful, thank ‘im in person… That guy had some prep work to do, so it seems he got to the live house before us today.

Ya should help ‘im out with all that stuff. And if ya can, get along with ‘im from here on out, I think you two are pretty compatible.

Koga: Eh~... How many times do I gotta say it, I want Sakuma-senpai to teach me!

I’ve been patiently sticking it out and following shitty glasses around everywhere, and today it ends!

‘Cause from now on, I’ll always be with Sakuma-senpai…♪

Rei: Ahaha. I did promise that if ya learned enough to impress me, I might teach ya.

Gonna make sure ya give me a big surprise an’ dazzle me, hey?

Koga: Leave it to me! I’ll perform something that’ll knock the socks of of everyone in the audience, includin’ you!

Ahh this is so exciting, today I’m gonna play the guitar until I collapse! hehehee ♪

Rei: (Haha. Young boys can be so energetic, he’s got these sparkly eyes… I might’ve been like that too, when I first started playing guitar.)

(When did I get like this—just a corpse… Nothing can excite me anymore, it’s like I’ve become a dark shell of a person.)

Koga: Sakuma-senpai? What is it, ya don’t look very lively~...are ya jet lagged after all?

Rei: Nnn~ no. …If ya want, ya can keep that guitar as a sorta gift.

I haven't touched the guitar in a while, an’ I just plan on singin’ today.

It isn’t really some luxury item~ Take it as an apology for draggin’ ya into our affairs.

Koga: Eh? You mean, I really get to have Sakuma-senpai’s guitar? Yahoo ☆

But, is that really alright? This, it’s the guitar you’ve used since you were young, right Sakuma-senpai? Don’t you think this should be a keepsake?

Rei: Hell do ya know so much about me for. I said so, so ya just take it, Puppy.

Today, I’m going to bury the ties which I’ve draggin’ ‘round since bygone days, forever.

So if I kept a memento like that close by, every time I saw it I’d think back on that very past…

It’d make me all depressed, so it’s best to hand it over to someone else~

If you don’t want it, that’s fine.

Koga: How could I not want it?! Thanks Sakuma-senpai, I’ll take good care of it ♪

Rei: Ahaha. Ah, what simple-minded happiness… Well, I guess ya are still just a kid.

Bein’ all grown up juuust isn’t as much fun as I thought it’d be…

If ya can, keep on bein’ a radiant child like ya are now. The innocent smile of a child, it’s everyone’s greatest joy.

Location: Underground Livehouse

Koga: Ooh…? What’s all this, the underground livehouse is a lot more fancy than it usually is!

Woah, looks like there’s a summoning circle or somethin’ drawn here!

Rei: Did ya not hear anythin’ about this from Bouzu?

Koga: Eh? Umm~... I was told that I was gonna stand on stage with Sakuma-senpai today, who came back from overseas.

I was really happy just hearing that, so I didn’t catch all the fine print.

Rei: Ya really should pay attention, yanno.

Hmmm… As I’d expect of ya, Bouzu. Looks like ya got yourself acquainted with the taste of the underground livehouse's regulars…

Rock n’ roll style huh? I don’t mind that~

This seems kinda old an’ tacky compared to rock nowadays, like an old classic style of rock. It’s nice, givin’ a sense of nostalgia…

I can’t admire the nostalgic feelin’ of the good ol’ days yet, I ain’t some senile old man~

(...Bouzu is gonna run the student council from here on out, so he’s gonna act as part of the establishment, ain’t he…)

(But ain’t rock anti-establishment at its core? Isn’t he contradicting himself? Or is he not ready to let go?)

(Have you lost your way? You’re struggling in that ravine between your worldly desires and ideals, aren’t you, Bouzu? That must be so tiring—I’ll dismiss your soul, and help carry it across.[1])

(Divin’ into the flames like that… If ya aren’t reincarnated, it means ya were a person who could only get that far.)

(Let us have a debate, for old time’s sake. Let us fight, pittin’ belief against belief.)

(After all, that’s how we met. I won’t let ya say you’ve forgotten that~ Keito.)

← previous | all | next →

Rei's making an extended metaphor about Buddhist reincarnation. 引導 is a Buddhist term that is said at funerals to wish the recently departed a safe travel into the next life. Most Buddhists will cremate their dead as they believe it'll speed up the cycle, which goes until that chain is broken by attaining Satori (some may know this as Nirvana, or as many other names), something like liberation, the quenching of the major evils of the soul. If you aren't reborn, you were as good of a person as you could be

[aweirdfan101]

I don’t know if you still write but I hope you don’t mind if I request something? Mono and Six get transported into Normal adult Modern(like normal earth )readers/Y/N’s House and Y/N/Reader becomes there Parent figure headcanon?? I apologize if I disturb you! Have a a nice Day/Night!

A

Hello dearie! How are you? Sorry this is little late, like my last post I was doing something’s that prevented me from writing for you. I wasn’t to sure on how to write this so please tell me if it was to your liking! I hope you have an amazing day or night! :)

Mono and six with GN Y/N becoming a parental figure headcanons

Household Care and Some Backstory

❣️It was a normal day, it was peaceful and calm and I was laying on my sofa. When all of a sudden, your TV turns into static and two random kids pop out of it.

❣️Wtf

❣️The two kids were startled and tried to fight me off, with a book. I show them I’m not gonna hurt them and don’t intend to. I began asking them questions about who they are, how did they end up here, why are they here, and just really what happened.

❣️They explain who they are but they don’t exactly know how they ended up here. One of the kids had a bag on his head and his name was “Mono.” The other kid had a yellow raincoat on and was named “Six.” They start exposing where they came from and how Mono has some weird TV powers.

❣️One more time, ✨W t f✨

❣️Six was a normal girl though( Six only got her powers because she absorbed some of Mono’s as seen in the game.) I felt bad because they must of been confused. I mean, they ended up being thrown into this world with no say in the matter.

❣️So I decided to take them in.

❣️Mono often enjoys talking with Six and saying how he’ll ‘protect her’, but to fair from what they said he’s done a pretty good job. In a way they’re like siblings. The thing Mono enjoys to do the most with Six is play video games that are purely focused on co-op.

❣️Six enjoys reading in her spare time surprisingly. I expected her to be a lot more..violent? But she enjoyed reading, and she also sometimes enjoy cooking with me. She isn’t half bad at it and often cooks meat related stuff for Mono, and bakes sweets for me.

❣️Getting Mono to clean is pretty easy, and he helps around the house pretty often. Cleaning with him is very relaxing because he often talks about his day and on rare occasions about his past and all the things he fought.

❣️Getting Six to clean can be..challenging to say the least.. She always talks about how she cooks for this household and shouldn’t be required to. Then I bring up how she burnt the pizza. Gets her to clean real fast. Whenever she cleans she tries to get it done fast, she rarely focuses on small talk. But she seems happy when I’m thankful for it.

Taking Care of Them

❣️They have nightmares often. Sometimes I stay by their bunk bed and sleep on the floor so they can be a little more comforted.

❣️When one, or both of them start screaming in their sleep I wait for them to wake up and they usually run up to me crying. Mono has Nightmares a lot more than Six, usually it’s about one of the monsters they faced back then harming Six or me. The monster he hates the most seems to be the ‘doctor.’ I usually have to hug and cuddle(platonic obviously) him and ask if he wants to sleep in my bed. When Six has Nightmares she usually wakes up gasping for air. She doesn’t like physical contact as much Mono does but prefers some sugar and hot chocolate. I usually hug her and offer for her to sleep in my bed.

❣️Since they use to live in a lot more hostile environment they are almost always on edge. I often try to keep them calm and tell them everything is okay, because truth be told, it is. Both of the, hate loud noises and yelling so I often keep my voice soft and gentle.

❣️Even though I try to be patient with them, some arguments can really drain the energy out me. When arguments get really bad, sometimes they hide somewhere in the house, Mono usually cries and Six usually just stays there being angry. I always find them and try to explain my point of view on the situation. I usually hug them and say it’s okay to be mad or sad.

❣️Sometimes they burnt-out like moments where they just get really sad and depressed, or really angry and destructive. In they end, both of them always end up crying into my arms and I do my best to comfort them. I usually hold back on household chores and make them some of their favorite foods. I usually let them sleep in my bed whenever these moments happen. Either Six or Mono, depends on whose the burnt-out one ends up sleeping in my bed too.

❣️Taking care of them is hard, but it’s fun to see them when they’re happy. It’s heartwarming when I see them smile while cooking with me, or playing video games with me, or even just talking with me. Even though we aren’t related by blood, in the end we will always be family.

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Tf2 headcanons? Aw yeah! So let's say a new merc joins the team. They're a total asshole: Cocky, sarcastic, overconfident, refuse help. But both Spy and Scout see right through that, it's a defense mechanism. How do they go about making this person comfortable enough to not be an asshole?

*chanting* HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMFORT HURT COMF

Okay, jokes aside, this is one of my favorite tropes. Maybe I’m too naïve to believe that some people are just mean to be mean, or maybe it’s a sort of comfort to know that even the worst people can be understood, but either way, WOOOOOOOOO!

*****************

An Ass For An Ass

Headcanons

Scout:

To be honest, Scout’s threshold for asshole-ery is pretty high. Growing up with eight brothers will do that to you.

But when the new recruit came around, something immediately rubbed him the wrong way.

Recruit always stole his thunder with the crass jokes and over-the-top displays. Every battle turned into a competition, which messed with Scout’s system of fighting. He never had to focus much on his own team before, and now he had to worry about keeping his own reputation upheld while trying not to get stabbed, shot, or blown up.

Recruit also kept hitting on Miss Pauling - even after reminding them again and again that she was lesbian, and was not and never will be into dudes.

“Come on…you just haven’t been with a real man yet…”

“No, no, I’ve been with a lot of men. Real men. I just wasn’t into any of them. After a while, it was kind of obvious.”

But what really pissed a lot of people off was Recruit’s fighting style.

They were an absolute monster on the field - that’s why they were chosen - but every interaction was treated as some sort of survival scenario.

One would think that would be a good thing, but Recruit was ridiculous.

No matter what the situation was, he was fine, he was okay, he could take it, he could fix it.

He could be killed only inches away from a Medic because he would never yell for one. Sometimes Recruit would even show visible anger at being healed. It got to the point where Medic didn’t heal him at all, and just allowed him to die as to not waste time he could give too more grateful patients.

Missions were even worse.

He followed orders to a T, but Pauling had to beg him to leave a failed mission, or to leave without completely destroying the site.

Everyone just took it as Recruit showing off, or having something to prove as a rookie.

It was annoying, but ultimately harmless in most circumstances.

However, it all came to a head when Recruit tried disengage a sentry by himself and was severely injured.

Both Engineer and Medic, who had had to fix most of Recruit’s past and current recklessness, ripped him a new one, one chewing out after the other.

“What we’re you thinkin’, son?! One crossed wire and you woulda blown the whole base!”

“Zhe only reason you are allowed in my lab at all is because it’s in my contract. Personally, I vould have rather left nature to it…”

Since then, Recruit did exactly as he was told, and nothing else. And most of the team liked it that way.

But Scout recognized some warning signs immediately. Fatigue, near silence except for missions, self-isolation, snapping when people got too close…it all paved the way for a pretty nasty (and, for Scout, very familiar) result.

One night, Recruit was sitting on the balcony, and Scout came out with two bottles - a beer for Recruit and a root beer for himself.

(Scout can only drink on the weekends because one, unlike most, he can’t go to work hung over because his job requires a lot of movement, and two, he has no restraint and can’t stop once he starts.)

“What do you want?”

Scout shrugged. “Depends.”

“On what?!”

“What are ya willin’ to tell me?”

Recruit just looked at the beer and sneered.

“Can’t we just skip this?” Scout said. “Maybe get to the part where you tell me what kinda Sally Sob Story we’re dealin’ with here?”

Recruit looked away.

“Aw, c’mon, don’t tell me you don’t got one. ‘Cause you do. I can see it a mile away. So what happened? Pop leave? Somebody died? Lotta brothers and sisters? Ma had a few too many and smacked ya around?”

Recruit didn’t turn around, but Scout could tell he was crying. He had hit a sore spot. Hard.

“Hey, pal, listen…”

Scout trailed off, then slowly began again.

“…the only reason I know is ‘cause I’ve been through it, ‘kay? Outta everybody I knew, I only trusted me. And that was great when I did a good job, ‘cause I knew I put me there.”

Scout opened his bottle of root beer and took a long swig.

“But when I screwed somethin’ up, it’s like everybody I ever knew just let me down. The one thing I could count on was gone.”

Recruit looked at Scout with tears in his eyes.

“But ya can’t do everything by yourself,” Scout continued. “Believe me. I learned that the hard way.”

Scout laughed, but it was mostly to clear the air. He didn’t get serious very often.

Recruit hadn’t touched his beer, but was leaned over the balcony with his head in his hands.

Scout sighed and looked up at the stars.

“But here’s somethin’ that nobody told me - it gets easier, y’know that? You just gotta relax and cut yourself some slack.”

Recruit shifted uncomfortably. “But the Administrator said…”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I know what she said. Gave ya that whole speech about how bein’ part of the team means discipline and focus and whatever. It’s all bull crap. She don’t know the first thing about bein’ on the field. If she did, why’d she hire us?”

“Sh-she said my perseverance was an asset to the team.”

“Perseverance, my ass. You know what would be an asset to the team? Stayin’ alive for more than fifteen minutes!”

Recruit looked at his feet. He had blinked away his tears, but he still looked on the verge of falling apart.

Scout put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it a little.

“You’re a great fighter, Recruit. You’re one of the best…that’s why you’re here. You got nothin’ to prove to nobody. Not to me, not to the team, not to the Administrator…not even to yourself. You’ve made it, kid. You’ve made it.”

Scout slid his hand off Recruit and started to walk away.

“Hey.”

Scout turned to see Recruit in the process of opening his beer.

“Thanks.”

Scout smiled. “No problem, pal. Plenty more under Demo’s mattress.”

“No, I mean…for that. I needed that tonight.”

“Oh…yeah! Sure. Don’t worry about it.”

Scout went back inside and to his room - but not before checking the cameras on the balcony a few times. Just in case.

Over the next few months, Scout kept helping Recruit break some old bad habits.

Recruit learned to take criticism without getting angry, to leave tanked missions, and to take care of himself.

He still occasionally flirted with Miss Pauling, but it was now more of an inside joke than anything.

Recruit still isn’t perfect - he still cringes a little when he’s healed, and falls back into survival mode when times are stressful - but he is now a much happier, much healthier person.

Spy:

Spy’s asshole wasn’t a merc, per se.

They were more of an informant, usually giving out important facts about locations, missions, and a target’s history.

Sometimes they would even use the Administrator’s PA system to announce new rules and reminders.

This would be perfectly fine - after all, you get kind of tired of hearing the Administrator all the time - except for the fact that Informant was the most sarcastic, most nasally, most apathetic, most matter-of-fact person on earth.

Even outside of a work setting, which was rare because they stayed in their office most of the time, Informant would go out of their way to be as condescending as possible.

Especially to whoever they considered to be in the “less intelligent” category: Heavy, Pyro, Scout, Demo, and Soldier.

To all the “others,” he turned every briefing into a contest to see who knew more at any given time…which, of course, usually meant he won.

“Now, does anyone know where his address is? Come on, any takers? Yeah, I thought so.”

Unlike Recruit, which would only warrant a few grumbles here and there from the team, Informant was the subject of a lot of hissed complaints and terrible rants from even the calmest of members.

Informant was the only one who could get under Heavy’s skin - a personal pet peeve of his was being considered less intelligent or less of a human being because English wasn’t his first language, which Informant chose to remind him of constantly.

It began with a few simple jabs at his grammar or word structure, but once Informant figured out that Heavy wouldn’t hurt a fly outside of battle, the taunts grew more and more daring.

Heavy would usually ignore Informant, which would only exacerbate their need to be noticed. This led to some pretty nasty interactions - from spouting the statistics of Russia’s average intelligence to even saying Heavy was a disgrace to his country by being a literature major.

“How’s that Russian literature major treating you? You know - in America.”

Sniper and Medic had tried to set Informant straight, but Heavy refused to accept any help. This was something that was his to bear, and his alone. He knew that they both took their own helping of harassment.

But one day, Informant went a little to far.

He did the one thing you should never do: insult Heavy’s family.

“You mother and sisters can’t do anything more than wait for you. No wonder you’re the only source of income.”

Before he knew it, Informant was against a wall, struggling to breathe, blood running into his eyes.

Heavy walked away after the incident, and told Medic about it, but he refused to heal him. Informant had called Medic a Nazi on more than one occasion.

This, finally, is where Spy comes in.

Spy was walking by Informant’s office, when he heard a strange sound - barely suppressed hiccups and sobs.

Despite his aversion to displays of emotion, the promise of seeing one of his greatest enemies as their lowest was too amusing to resist.

He knocked lightly on the door, then slowly opened it - always the master of drama.

Informant was under their desk, bloodied and bruised, sobbing into their knees.

Spy entered noiselessly, sitting in Informant’s office chair and lighting a cigarette.

It was only when Spy made a dramatic exhale of the smoke that Informant looked up, tears streaking their face.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Spy finally spoke.

“Oh, how the mighty fall. Flown too close to the sun, have we?”

Informant couldn’t do much more than snivel and retreat farther below the desk.

“Who did it?” Spy asked. “I want to give them my regards…and maybe a bottle of wine.”

“H-Heavy…”

“Oh? Well, if anyone can bring him to blows, it’s you.”

Spy put his feet on the desk and continued to blow smoke out of his nose, thinking.

“It’s strange,” he said. “Most offices have at least a few pictures of family. A trip to the beach, perhaps the zoo…?”

He took a quick glance around.

“No children. No army mates. No graduation photos or a large catch at a local lake. The only personal item you have is this…”

Spy picked up a Rubik’s Cube. The plastic still around it crinkled.

“Unused.”

Informant looked at the floor.

“I like to keep my personal and professional life separate.”

Spy pursed his lips and squinted.

“How noble of you. But I don’t think that’s the case. You know what I think, Informant?”

Spy took his feet of the desk and bent down, looking Informant in the eyes.

“I don’t think you have a life.”

Informant’s eyes went wide for a moment, then his face immediately crumpled. Bullseye.

Spy smirked and got up from the chair, starting to leave.

Informant’s sniffling turned into sobbing, and before Spy could put his hand on the doorknob, muffled wailing filled the office.

Spy closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. He was trying not to remember something. But the imagery was too strong.

He remembered hiding under a table, like Informant was. People screaming and cursing at each other in French. His knees all scarred and his nose runny from a cold that should have resolved weeks ago. Waltz music coming from next door, trying to drown out the fighting. Glass breaking. Biting his knuckles so he wouldn’t whimper or cry.

Spy’s hand closed into fist. He took a deep breath, and turned to face Informant again.

“But to be fair…”

He walked towards the desk, putting his hand in his suit pocket. He got on his knees and pulled out a pink handkerchief.

“…I don’t have one either.”

He offered the handkerchief to Informant, who put it to his face, still staring at Spy through red eyes.

The pair were silent for a moment, with Spy putting out his cigarette and lighting a new one while Informant cleaned themselves up.

“But the difference between you and I,” Spy said, his voice wavering a bit, “is that I am a Spy. If my information got into the wrong hands, it could be the end of me and my team.”

He tapped his cigarette on a nearby trash can, letting the ashes fall into it.

“But what are you hiding from?”

Informant took a shaky inhale, the handkerchief still covering his nose and mouth.

“W-what?”

“Why do you feel the need to be, as Scout puts it, a tier five jerkazoid?”

Informant sniffled. “I…I didn’t think I took it that far.”

“Took what that far?”

“I just…snrk…I thought that’s what I had to do to get them to take me seriously.”

Informant laughed, but their heart wasn’t in it.

“I’m five foot four with red hair and freckles. I look more like someone’s Andy doll than a contract killer. I thought maybe if I knew everything…I’d be worth it.”

They shrugged.

“At best, they’d be impressed. At worst, they would never get close enough to me to know the truth: the only reason why I’m here is because I can rattle off a few names and that I had good grades in school because I had nothing better to do.”

Spy’s chest ached. He didn’t know why, but it was a strange feeling to him.

“Mon ami…”

He cleared his throat.

“If half of the team is any indication, you don’t need to be Nikola Tesla to be hired. Hell, the fact you can read is an anomaly in itself. But there is something you must understand…”

Spy cleared his throat again. His voice had gotten quite unstable all of a sudden.

“Intelligence is measured in different ways. Scout could never read even the simplest of children’s books, but his physical intelligence - reflexes, spatial awareness, aim - is phenomenal. Medic would have to put my spine back together if I even attempted to do what he does on the field.”

Informant snickered at the joke, or perhaps the image it conjured.

“And me,” Spy continued. “I can speak almost any language, adjust to any social setting, charm anyone, fool anyone…kill anyone. Just like you, I can remember, and I use the information I absorb mostly to show how superior I am to all my lowly colleagues.”

Spy furrowed his brow and looked away.

“But I know less about myself than even my enemies. I have hidden it so deep within my mind that I can hardly remember…or perhaps would rather not remember…who I was before this mask of mine.”

Informant hesitated. “I…I’m sorry, Spy.”

Spy sneered and puffed a few smoke rings.

“I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to have some self-respect - and respect for my teammates. Because next time you are beaten within an inch of your life, you might catch me in a less generous mood.”

With that, Spy got up, reached into his suit pocket and presented a small MediKit, which he tossed to Informant.

“I’d suggest freshening up before going to any more briefings.”

Informant nodded, and set to work healing himself.

Spy started to leave, then stuck his head back in.

“And hang a few posters, would you? Your office looks like a prison cell.”

Finally, the Frenchman took his leave, adjusting his suit and nodding solemnly to the team members he happened to pass - or scowling at them, depending.

He glanced over the security feed, and once he was satisfied, made his way to his smoking room.

Spy closed the heavy oak door, poured himself a small glass of scotch, and sat down in his chair next to the fireplace.

He put a magazine on his knee and began to flip through the pages, but his gaze soon started to wander.

He closed the magazine, tossed it into the fire, leaned into his hand, and wept.

…So what became of Informant?

Well, after a reluctant heal from Medic and a few well-deserved apologies, Informant began to try and break the cycle of self-sabotage.

The process took a lot longer than Recruit’s did - especially since Informant’s transgressions were a lot more egregious - but, little by little, they began to heal.

A lot of the time, the other mercs would have to tell them to tone it down a bit, or to cut him off completely if necessary.

Informant still almost has a panic attack if he doesn’t have the right papers, and his office is still pretty bare, but he took Spy’s advice - a few AC/DC posters hang on the leftmost wall.

As for Spy, well…he needs to have a talk with Medic.

******************

I am so sorry…this is all so messy and weird. One is so much longer than the other, and I’m not even sure half the dialogue sounds right.

The two headcanons were just typed out at different times, the first where I had less motivation and the second when I had more motivation. This wasn’t on purpose, it just happened.

I hope you still like it, though!

[flowercrown-bard]

For the made up fic title - burn butcher burn >:)

Thank you!

tw: mentioned child death, S2 compliance (Eskel death)

It starts when Geralt is just a child, playing outside in the snow, with his bucket on his head and wields his wooden spoon as a sword. When he comes back inside, his mother has lit a fire and Geralt huddles down comfortably in front of it, eating soup and imagining the fire comes from a dragon. It’s beautiful, it’s warm and it’s a thing of comfort

then he’s at Kaer Morhen. Up North in the mountain, it’s often dark and cold. There are days when there’s barely any sun, so after training, he goes to the grand hall, where the older witchers are telling them stories from the Path. He listens with bated breath as they speak, and wonders if he will one day look as heroic as they do now, with the light from the fires reflected in their golden eyes. Fires become synonymous with what lies ahead: A lifetime of adventure, of being a hero.

a year later, they learn signs. Geralt struggles with it a lot, in contrast to Eskel. The shy boy, who’s a bit taller than him and has a round face, shows him how to form the sign Igni correctly. Where the teachers are stricts and punish lack of discipline, Eskel is patient and kind. When Geralt finally creates his first flame, however small and unimpressive it is, Eskel hugs him. From now on, Geralt will always think of the day he became best friends with Eskel, when he sees fire

It’s not much later when he dares Eskel to create set one of the mean instructors’ bed on fire while he’s away. Eskel accidentally manages to blow up the whole room. It earns them a pretty bad punishment, but they endure it together, giggling about the instructor’s face when he had realised that his room was gone. Fire now means that Eskel will be alright, that’s he’s the strongest of them and will survive whatever may come.

They go through the trials together. They don’t watch the funeral pyres being lit, but Geralt can smell them anyway. The smell of fire is a reminder, that he and Eskel survived, Geralt tries to tell himself. It doesn’t work. Geralt doesn’t light a candle for a long time after that.

A couple of years after they started out on the Path, Geralt finds Eskel with his face slashed open. Witchers heal quickly, he knows from experience. Still, he does everything he can to help his best friend. He uses Igni to heat up a knife and uses that to stop the bleeding. Fire becomes a symbol of healing and survival after that. And a reminder that he would do anything for Eskel.

Sometimes, Geralt gets run out of towns. The mob carries pitchforks and torches. He tries to ignore the pang that goes through his heart, when he sees the fire. He can’t shake off the reminder of the torch-wielders yelling at him, though, shouting that he is an abomination. Humans use fire to hurt and to kill. He realises then, that he’s not really human anymore.

There’s a bard and there’s a song. And then, somehow there are no more pitchforks and torches. Instead, the bard lights candles and motions for Geralt to come join him in front of the hearth while he composes. There are shared campfires and on one occasion even a fire work display. Maybe fire isn’t all bad when it comes from humans. Maybe a song is all it takes to change fire from being destructive to being soft and beautiful.

Cintra is burning, but Geralt makes it out alive. Somehow, through some sort of miracle, so does Ciri. Maybe it was Destiny driving them out of the city at the same time. Maybe it was a fire. Either way, when Ciri later says that she feels as if she could burn the entire world, it gnaws on Geralt. He will do everything in his power that fire doesn’t become a bad thing for Ciri. He tries to do what Jaskier had once done. He tries to take this terrible thing that fire must be for Ciri and turn it into a source of comfort. He’s not sure if he succeeds.

There’s no longer a bard by his side, but there’s a song again. Geralt doesn’t know what cuts deeper, being called the Butcher by the man he thought his friend, or to hear that he should burn, that Jaskier is burning the memory of him. The nights are cold and dark. Geralt forces himself to light a fire for Ciri’s sake. But he turns his face away so he doesn’t have to look at the flames.

There was a song telling him to burn. And once again there were villages reading their torches.

They are at Kaer Morhen again, finally safe. Geralt breathes a sigh of relief, when Eskel comes into the grand hall, a smile on his lips and uninjured save for a small injury on his shoulder. But it’s nothing. Eskel has had worse. He’s alive and that’s all that counts. That night, they sit at the tables of the grand hall, with the fire of the hearth reflecting in their eyes as they tell Ciri of the heroics of the past year. Fire is again what it should be. A reminder of his family being together again. Of safety, of comfort. Of trying ones best to be a hero.

Eskel’s injury isn’t nothing. He is screaming, the bark covering his body is creaking. “Geralt, please.” Geralt heats his blade with Igni. The sign Eskel had shown him. The sign that had always protected his best friend. The sign that had helped Geralt stop him from bleeding out.

Only fire to the heart can kill a Leshy. Geralt hasn’t been in the isolation rooms since just after the trial of the grasses, but that’s where he goes now. Far away from any sort of fire. It’s useless. He can still smell the smoldering of the flame on his hands. Another brother burned.

There’s a bard again, but no more song. Jaskier’s hands are burned and Geralt wasn’t there to help him. It’s late and quiet, when Jaskier finally confides in him. “Fire is…sometimes the body can withstand it,” Jaskier whispers, his breath visible in the winter air. “But it consumes the soul.”

Geralt doesn’t reply. He just stares at Jaskier’s burned hands and at his own hands that have done the burning so often. And finally he understands. His soul had been consumed long ago. He had been burned to a crisp, until only the Butcher remained.