#was able to get my hair vaguely orange too

[satturn]

advantage of doing a last minute gideon nav costume is that if the makeup looks messy it's in character

[am-i-interrupting]

do you mind if i ask for a bimbo gn!reader who thinks they have an unrequited crush on vox all the while being oblivious of vox's own attempt at flirting, please?

Daft Dolls

All that training with Velvette about how not to just pace but run in high heels really did pay off. Not only was it a valuable tool to have in Hell of all places, it was also just pretty damn useful to know in general.

You weren’t running from loan sharks. No, you were running towards a specific hotel. You weren’t in trouble. Far from it. You were excited. You could not wait to see the look on his face.

The doors were slammed open as you barged in. You looked across the lobby of the hotel.

Vaguely you registered other people (a man dressed in red who just appeared out of thin air) but your eyes zoned in on the pink clad spider at the bar.

“The fuck you doing here, toots?”

“I got you out of work!”

Your voices overlapped. Angel Dust looked at you with a raised brow. “What?”

“I got you out of work,” you repeated as you walked towards him, the door closing behind you. “Well, not work but work work. You know, Valentino work. I know it’s not what you wanted but being on set with me is better than being on set with Valentino, right? At least, that’s what I was thinking ‘cause when I went to talk to him about it he was mad. Like mad mad. He threw bottle of rosé at me.”

“Are you okay?” Angel asked.

You batted his hands away from you. “I’m fine. It’s no big deal. He has shit aim anyway. He missed but with the help of Vox I was able to get you off of Val’s set and onto mine!”

Angel Dust just stared at you, absolutely silent.

As he processed what you said, a blonde woman came up beside you. “Um, hi, I’m Charlie. You’re one of Angel’s friends, I guess? It’s so nice to meet you.”

You took her outstretched hand (it was really soft) and shook it. “Nice to meet you too! Angel’s told me about you. I’m—“

“Vox helped you?” Angel asked, coming out of his stupor. “Like TV head Vox? Overlord Vox? That Vox? He helped you get me out of work?”

“Yeah,” you said shaking your head. “He was already up there with Val. I kind of just barged in. I wasn’t thinking. That was probably a stupid thing to do but you were on the news and then you were messaging me all freaked out about what Val was gonna do because you were on the news so I just kind of went up there to talk about it and anyway. Yeah, why?”

He downed the glass that was on the bar beside him. “You’re so oblivious sometimes,” he said.

“What?!”

He pointed a finger at you. “You call me at least once every two weeks and moan and groan about how—“

You clasped your hands over his mouth. “Can we not ta— Ew! Angel!” You yanked your hands back, now covered in his saliva. “Gross!”

He smirked at you and leaned in close, “Just making sure you’re prepared for that hand job he’s gonna get.”

You pushed his shoulder and he pushed you back. This led to you both lightly hitting each other with no real intent to harm one another.

That was until a different woman’s voice sounded through the room, “What the fuck is going on?”

The both of you stopped and turned towards her. Grey skin, white hair, orange eyes, she was gorgeous. You couldn’t help but say as much.

She looked completely thrown off by your blatant statement meanwhile Angel threw his head back with a laugh and Charlie looked over at her with a huge smile.

“Vaggie,” Charlie said in a sing-song voice.

“No,” the woman (Vaggie) immediately responded with. “Absolutely not.”

She turned around and started walking away. “Sorry,” Charlie said before moving to follow her. “But they’d be perfect for the Hotel!”

“No, we’re not having two Angel Dusts,” Vaggie said.

“But, Vaggie,” Charlie’s voice then grew too distant to hear.

Angel waited a moment but then he turned to you again. “You really got me out of work?” he asked, voice so close to sounding fragile.

“Course I did,” you told him. You grabbed his hand. “Your my friend, Angie.” You let go. “I need to go back though. I’m on my lunch break and it’s probably almost over. I just got so excited, I had to come tell you in person.”

Angel pulled you in for a hug and squeezed you with all six arms. “You’re the best, toots.”

“I know, I know,” you said. “Anyway, I gotta go. See ya!”

You blew Angle kissed as you walked backwards to the door. You spun around, prepared to open it when you saw the red clad man from before holding the door open for you.

“Oh, thanks.”

“Of course, my dear,” he said, a radio filter on his voice. “Please, allow me to walk you back. I’d love to thank our mutual friend in person for helping our other mutual friend.”

“You know Vox?”

“Yes, indeed I do, very well, in fact. I’m Alastor. Pleasure to meet you, my dear, quite a pleasure,” he said.

You gave him your name in turn.

The two of you walked together in silence. You did notice as the two of you walked, many people sprinted away which was odd, especially for you.

You were normally approached by people when you were out. They didn’t run away.

See, several years ago youd made a deal with Velvette. You were one of her models and she’d provide you with protection from Hell’s many dangers along with the occasional free clothes as a bonus. Time passed and you and Velvette actually ended up getting along fairly well. She’d put you in her streams, in her posts, she’d hang out with you outside of work. That’s when one day she heard you singing when she invited herself over. A couple days later, you were basically told you were going to make an album. The rest was history.

So, people running from instead of approaching you was different, weird, even strange.

You looked over at your company but he simply wore a smile. You could hear him humming actually, something upbeat and jazzy. You supposed if he wasn’t deterred you shouldn’t be either. Maybe it was just one of those off days in Hell, especially since it was so soon after the extermination.

Eventually you got to the three Vs’ tower. What you didn’t expect was for Vox to immediately teleport to the entryway.

His posture was straight which was normal but it seemed tense. If that wasn’t enough to tip you off the fact that he was still sparking was and his eye strobing definitely was. You followed his gaze to Alastor and found yourself suddenly very cautious of the man.

While Alastor didn’t seem that bad on the surface you’d known Vox longer. You trusted Vox. You more than trusted Vox actually but the point was you took a very lengthy step away from Alastor and toward’s Vox even if he was sparking.

“What marvelous company this one makes,” Alastor said, gesturing to you. “Wouldn’t you say, old friend?”

Vox took a step in front of you. “Get the FUCK out of my territory!” he said.

Alastor’s smile turned into something devious, something knowing, and something very unnerving. He gave a bow and then vanished into the shadows.

Vox placed a hand on your back and guided you inside. “Do not ever go around him again, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you said. Not once in your half a decade in Hell had you ever seen Vox like this.

He sighed. His sparking calmed down and his eyes stopped strobing. “Sorry, just, um, I— he’s— it’s complicated. Just don’t associate with him.”

“Sorry, I was just going to that hotel Angie’s staying at. He insisted on walking me back, that’s all,” you explained.

“It’s— Wait, what? What hotel?”

“The Happy Hotel that Charlie Morningstar started. There was an ad for it on 666 today before Angel’s fight.”

Vox stopped. “Alastor’s back and he’s staying at a hotel run by Lucifer’s daughter?”

Prior to all of the things that happened two days after the extermination, Vox had already said (as what you assumed was a way to placate Valentino) that he would be personally in charge of directing your music video but it seemed like since Alastor he wasn’t letting you out of his sight. That was silly though.

He did come into your apartment in the tower though and just sat on your couch. That was normal though. Vox did that when he was stressed. He said your apartment was less noisy than staying with the other Vs. Whatever the case, you made him dinner last night.

Now it was the next day and Velvette was dolling you up as she was prone to do. She blended out your lipstick with her finger. Then she put a thick layer of lip gloss on top.

“Pout for me. Perfect. You look pretty, innocent, and fuckable,” she said.

She pulled you out of your chair and to the nearest full length mirror. She was right, as always. She’d given you a very soft blue makeup look for the most part with sharp eyeliner and bold pink and black lips. She had dressed you in a pastel pink cropped sweater, a matching miniskirt with a high pastel blue g-string, and tall white boots. She’d outdone herself but she always did.

She ushered you out of the dressing room after you both got done gawking at yourself and to the set. There you found Angel in a very similar get up but with the pinks and blues reversed.

“You ready to blow this shoot?” Angel asked,

“Wrong kind of shoot for a blow,” you told him.

He rolled his eyes with a smile. One hand of his went around your shoulders. The other went around the waist.

You both went to set and chatted while you waited for Vox to arrive.

It was only a few minutes before he was walking through the doors, a tray of three cups in his hands. He set it down on a nearby table. Velvette went to grab one but he cut her off, taking it instead. You caught sight of her offended expression before it morphed into a done but knowing look. One hand on her hip while the other plucked a different cup off the tray,

Vox turned, now two cup in hand. He caught sight of you and raised an eyebrow. Velvette doubled over laughing. You couldn’t help but wander why. It was too loud to hear what they were saying but it didn’t look like either of them had moved their lips.

Maybe one of Vox’s soundboard noises went off. That was known to happen occasionally but you couldn’t think of why.

You didn’t really get the chance to think of any reasons though as seconds later Vox was in front of you. He extended the hand holding the cup he’d taken from Velvette.

“You look nice,” he said.

“Thanks, Velvette’s work,” you explained, taking the cup from him. You hummed to yourself when you were met with your favorite drink.

“I’m sure that’s not all true,” he said.

You were too busy to notice how his eyes lingered on your face but Angel did. Throughout the next few weeks Angel noticed a lot.

He’d never really seen you and Vox interact before. He would just hear stories from you afterwards and holy fuck. You had to be dense to think this man wasn’t absolutely obsessed with you.

Vox brought you your favorite drink every single day. He complimented you every single day. He would correct and critique everyone else in a very detached way at best and frustrated way more often than not. But with you, he was calm, gentle almost. He took your ideas and incorporated them. He would go out of his way to physically correct your poses or guide you through specific motions. Once you mentioned off handedly that your feet were hurting and there was an early lunch break where he didn’t even eat, he massaged your feet for you.

When Angel brought this up, however, he was brushed off.

“He brought Velvette a drink too.” Yeah, one she complained tasted like piss.

“He does that all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.” Angel had never heard Vox compliment anyone in his nearly seventy years in Hell.

“He just knows me better, that’s all.” Not once had Angel ever seen Vox being even half as kind to Velvette or Valentino.

“I’m sure he does that with other people’s ideas.” Angel remembered being told multiple iterations of the same story with different people, all because they did something as small as suggest different shoes for someone to walk in because it was too loud.

“It’s probably just easier to do that than explain. He knows I’m used to being puppeted around by Vel.” He spent five minutes explaining to Angel what to do instead of just moving his four arms into position.

“Do you want me to give you a foot massage, Angie? All you have to do is ask.” Well, yes, but that wasn’t the point!

Angel watched as Vox laughed at something you said. “Fucking dumbass,” he muttered to himself as he grabbed a yogurt off the snack bar.

“I know, right?” Velvette said, scaring the shit out of him in the process. “You think this is bad? Ugh, imagine being surrounded by it all the time and Voxy’s just as bad and there’s no escaping him. I have to put up with his bitch ass whining all the time. It’s exhausting.”

Angel relaxed enough to lean against the wall. “Kind of makes you want to press them together like dolls and make them kiss, don’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah. . . Wait a minute! That’s it!” Velvette slapped Angel’s shoulder.

She whipped out her phone and started typing frantically. Her legs started kicking from where they dangled over the edge of the snack bar.

Angel peeled open the yogurt and tried to lean to have a look at what she was typing. She was too fast though and shut off her phone with a satisfied smirk.

Her eyes were glued to the pair of you. You pulled out your phone and saw a message from her. You looked over at her with furrowed brows. She just smiled at you manically. You shook your head but gave her a thumbs up.

When lunch break was supposed to be over, Velvette clapped her hands together loud enough it echoed through the room. “Listen up, sluts!” she said, taking control over the room.

You watched as she and Vox had a back and forth which ended with Vox confused on the set couch in a new outfit Velvette poofed on him. It wasn’t anything too far out of his usual style but it was a change. It was simple black slacks and a white button up shirt but the sleeves were rolled past his forearms and several of the buttons were undone. He looked. . . You were staring that’s for sure.

The music came on and you began lip singing. You put your hands on either side of his head. You threw your leg on the other side of his lap and straddled him. You moved your body up and down, not grinding on him due to not sitting on him but it was a close thing. Your face was right in front of his. You tried to hold eye contact with him but for some reason his eyes kept darting down.

“Fuck it,” he said under his breath.

Then an arm was wrapped around your hips forcing you down and a hand was in your hair guiding your head closer to his. Your lips met his and static filled your entire body. His tongue was caressing your mouth, making you feel like you had a mouth full of pop rocks.

You moaned when he flipped you so your back was pressed against the couch. He rolled his hips against yours and you could feel him through his pants.

“Fuck the music video,” he said against your lips. “How would you feel about filming a porno instead?”

“Mmm, kinky,” Angel said.

“I am so sending this to ‘Tino,” Velvette said.

[sanctus-ingenium]

hi im so sorry if youve already answered this but how do u go about selecting the colors you use for your works!

hi! i've had this question a few times and every time i've only been able to answer with a vague sort of 'ehhh i just pick them'. but i think i'll actually talk some more about it now since a lot of my art actually takes a lot of beating before i decide on a final palette. but with a lot of them admittedly i already know what palette i'm using, and i organise the whole composition around those colours.

i use like two main palette methods and here they are (once you see it in my art, you won't unsee it). It mainly involves picking one main hue, and then a contrasting secondary colour.

So the most basic is to have a drawing be mostly a small range of hues, in this case the reds and oranges, and adding a single contrasting shade. Here it is the bounce light on the metallic metal parts, and doesn't appear anywhere else. It looks blue but it isn't - if I used actual blue, it would be too jarring and the colours would not appear unified. This is a warm and nice scene. So instead I pick that strong blue and blend it into a small swatch of the base colour. Then I pick from the blended portion, and what I get will be more blue than the base, but not actually blue. In fact it is yellow-orange :) The entire drawing looks warm as a result.

When working with marginally stronger contrast, here I have a cream unicorn on a green background. The main shadows on the unicorn will be the colour of that ambient room temperature bg - green. So I use the same test swatch method to pick a shadow colour which LOOKS green without being too disruptive of the cream unicorn. I increase the saturation and darken the value (moving the colour dot diagonally to the lower right hand corner of the box) and also spin the whole wheel towards green just a bit. Then I blend into the cream and colour pick a shade in the middle. But for the bounce light, I chose to use a common contrast of green - pink. It looks like pink in the drawing but in fact it is a low saturation orange! Using that real pink would be disharmonious. I do the exact same thing - I blend the pink into the bg colour and come up with that orange shade. It looks harmonious.

Now (top example) I am using two contrasting hues side by side. I decide the shadows will be warm, and the highlights in that contrasting zone. That means that for every colour i pick - Islin's skin, hair, his glasses, his shirt collar, his coat - every colour gets slid around the colour wheel until it falls inside that narrow band. And when I am highlighting his skin, I turn the wheel towards green. When I am shading his skin, I turn the wheel more red. I do this for every single element in the drawing.

It's the same for the Rua cover but this time I am not using such a wide band of available hues on the colour wheel, it's much tighter. I did this to replicate the look of a faded print, intentionally lowering the available contrast I had to work with by removing black as tool. It's all in that small cream to red window but it LOOKS purple - it looks like Pascal wears a purple shirt and that the smoke in the bg is lilac. Well, it isn't. That's all red and orange. I pick those colours by, again, choosing my goal "look" - a low-saturation purple, and then turning the wheel into the red range.

Okay so! for this it's just... the exact same thing again. Literally it always is. But since this one is recent I still have the process fresh in my mind. I envisioned it in the car, and I wanted this empty sort of desolate blue bg and a cold, distant overall tone. I ended up making the white on the chessboard & white pieces warmer, cream instead of white-grey, which worked out great. I wanted the blue, I wanted the pale cream/white, and the black of the chessboard. I didn't envision a colour for Pascal's shirt. but when the time came it was an obvious choice. It has to contrast with the bg both in value and hue, without falling outside the cream range already established by the chess pieces. So it's shiny salmon pink :) or orange, whatever you think it is. The only disharmonious part of this palette is the red velvet under the black knight piece - it works, but if I'd taken more care I might have spun the wheel more into orange and it would stand out less. But I don't mind.

[inoreuct]

drink from me

a sherry-laced conversation about thirst and running away. zosan | 2k | hurt/comfort

Being a coward isn’t as easy as one might think.

It’s juxtaposition in its own right; cowardice is, as defined, a lack of bravery— And yet Sanji supposes it takes bravery to be able to ditch everything you stand for. To turn tail and run. Bravery to bear upon your shoulders the disappointment of everybody who had ever believed in you. 

He sighs deeply, tilting the bottle in his hand so that the dregs of liquor slosh within. This is why he doesn’t drink.

It’s relatively easy most days. To lock his past behind a set of double doors, bar the handles with a padlock and chain so he can pretend that everything he’s running from isn’t just three paces behind, snapping at his heels, starved and ready to eat him up whole. Alcohol slots the key back into place and twists it without his permission. Twists his heart until it aches.

He doesn’t know why he’d started. The bottle of sherry had sat, nondescript and guileless and half-full on the galley table after the night’s dessert, and Sanji had paused before he’d slowly wrapped his fingers around the neck of it and let his nails scrape against the dark glass.

The cork had popped almost too easily and here he is now, taffrail digging into his forearms as he takes a long drag from his cigarette and lets bitter smoke fill his lungs full to bursting. Blood orange coats the back of his tongue, cloyingly sweet, thick on the roof of his mouth— He’d made a layered trifle with cacao nibs and caramelised cream that had been slathered between slabs of boozy vanilla sponge, and the aftertaste clings to his teeth. Sanji peers down as what’s left of the sherry glimmers vaguely inside the bottle and fights the urge to chug the rest. 

He could, if he really wanted to. He hardly drinks but it certainly doesn’t mean he can’t. 

A soft scrape against wood catches his attention, barely perceptible. He fights to keep his spine from stiffening, fights to maintain his loose-limbed, easy demeanor; the liquid warmth in his veins helps some but not enough, and he’s halfway through another drag when near-silent footsteps stop just behind him. 

Zoro’s haori shifts in the wind, palm loosely wrapped around the end of Wado’s hilt where she’s strapped alone to his hip. “Was wondering where you went,” he says easily, looking out over the ocean. 

Sanji scoffs. It burns his throat more than the sherry did. “For someone built like that, you’re surprisingly quiet, marimo.”

The immediate urge to kick himself is something new. He rarely feels it— It appears often, don’t get him wrong, he just. Ignores it. It’s a little more difficult tonight. Built like that. The noise that escapes him is mirthless. What’s that even supposed to mean, huh? Alcohol’s always made him snappy and he does feel bad for once — But he’s tired, and the chores won’t do themselves. 

“Make it quick, would you?” he mutters when Zoro still hasn’t replied, low and quiet in the still evening air as he curves down to dig the heel of his palm into his temple. “My spice jars are still all over the counter, and I have to mop the floor before I wash the dishes—”

“It’s done.” 

Sanji blinks, before his eyes narrow and he turns his head to look at Zoro properly. “The dishes?”

“Everything.” The swordsman huffs when Sanji gives him a dubious look, gaze flicking over and away again as he rolls his eye. “Luffy asked me to clean up the galley. Said you needed a break.”

Well. The cook exhales, measured, and buries his face into the crook of his elbow. Taps his cig so that ash doesn’t fall into his hair where he’s holding it aloft above his head. “Tell him thanks, but I don’t.”

He clocks it out of his peripheral vision when Zoro smirks and waves a hand to gesture to his cigarette and his slouch and the glass bottle dangling against wood. “What’s this, then?”

I don’t know. Shop’s closed, please fuck off and come back tomorrow morning. 

The other words that sit at the tip of Sanji’s tongue are far more scathing. He feels them, bites them back viciously before he can burn anyone other than himself. “If there’s a single thing out of place in there I’m gonna—”

“Kick my ass, I know, I know.” Zoro chuckles under his breath. “Don’t you get tired of saying the same things over and over again?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t constantly choose to be selectively deaf, moss-for-brains.”

The swordsman huffs another soft laugh, and conversation peters out after that. Sanji feels an itch building at the base of his skull, flickering just under his skin; it’s making him restless. He taps the bottle against the rail just to fill the silence. Zoro reaches a hand out and Sanji gives it to him easily, unthinkingly, watching and pretending he isn’t as the swordsman thumbs over the faded paper label that’s peeling at the corner. 

Zoro’s hands are scarred, he notes. He knows this, of course, but he never gets tired of letting his gaze drift over tan skin and old scars, thin slivers of pearly tissue painted silver in the moonlight. A breeze ruffles his hair as Zoro finally drinks, and he’s distantly surprised to see that it’s a measured sip and not a swig like what it usually would have been. 

Fucking hell. Sanji’s inhale shudders when he pushes himself up and stands straight, now-free hand wrapping around lacquered wood as he finishes his cigarette and tosses the butt over the side. He needs to stop thinking. He’s paying too much attention. There’s a pressure building behind his forehead and Zoro is an overwhelming presence beside him, unavoidable, stoic and staunch as ever, perfect posture, perfect honour, a sentinel with a pure white sword like some sort of— of hero from a storybook. Perfect perfect perfect.

It’s all building like a scream behind his lips, a river at a bottleneck, and he clenches his jaw to keep it in. Grits his teeth until he hears them creak because what would happen if he opened his mouth? Nothing good, he’s sure. Nothing anyone needs.

Sanji nearly startles when the bottle taps against his elbow. “Talk to me.”

“Nothing to say,” he replies immediately, taking a careless gulp and holding in a cough. 

Zoro’s slow exhale feels like it shifts the wind itself. Their ship creaks gently. “You always have something to say, curls.”

“Look, you—” He cuts himself off, tempering his breath. “I’m tired, alright? So can you just get to the point?” Fuck, he needs another cigarette. 

Maybe that’s the problem. He knows he’s the problem, sure, but Sanji suspects that he’s been running for so long that he’s forgotten how to walk. It’s grown into him like weeds wound through his ribs, the way he sees poison in water that’s perfectly clean, the way peace makes him more anxious than chaos does. He needs to stop running. He doesn’t know how. 

Zoro pries the sherry from his fingers and it’s only then that he relaxes the death grip he’d unintentionally had, a shudder slipping over his shoulders. Zoro holds the bottle loosely between his scarred fingers and doesn’t drink.

The silence thickens. Static crackles within his bones.

Sanji doesn’t know why he starts talking. Doesn’t know why it feels like a dam breaking in his chest, but his mouth is open, and the words are emptying out. “I’m tired of looking over my shoulder for something that isn’t there. Luffy gave me something to run towards, for once, but—”

He doesn’t know how to say it’s not enough without sounding ungrateful, without being greedy. “Sometimes I think I could… consume every one of the Blues, and still want more,” he allows. “Need more.” His fingers lace together, and Sanji dips his head with a wry smile even as he looks at the endless expanse of sky in front of them. “I’m afraid I’ll drink the world and still come up dry.”

There is a thirst in him. Something different than what had wracked him for a month on that barren rock. Hunger he can handle; he eats just enough to stave it off and goes about his day. This, though— Sanji can’t help the way it buzzes in the back of his head and keeps him wound up like a coil of electrical wire. He kneads dough and whisks egg whites just to have something to do with his hands. He defaults to his usual barbs when he’s feeling ungrounded so he can kid himself into thinking he possesses some semblance of normality. His shoulders ache as he stares out over the sea and wonders what it’s like to hold so much and still, still, be so achingly empty.

The winds change, carding cool fingers through his hair. 

“Drink from me,” Zoro says, and Sanji’s breath catches between his teeth.

His head snaps up to find Zoro already looking at him, face unreadable, elbows on the taffrail and bottle cupped in his hands. The swordsman looks serene, Sanji thinks. Gaze trained straight ahead, ever clear of his objectives as Wado gleams at his side, starlight in an ivory sheath. 

“Drink from me,” he repeats. The words are solemn as they always are in moments like these, the liminal space just after dusk but before true night, as his eyes shift over to Sanji and lock in place. “I won’t let you go thirsty again.” 

Sanji’s mouth dries. It’s hard not to feel pinned as Zoro looks at him; the weight of his gaze is almost physically tangible, like a familiar green coat settling over his shoulders. That’s the thing about Zoro— For all Sanji jokes about him having plant life in his skull, the swordsman has a penchant for dropping absolutely earth-shaking statements without even seeming to think about them at all. The cook swallows once, twice, tries to find his words as his lips part and loses them as soon as he takes his next breath.

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever stop feeling like a ticking time bomb. But as Zoro’s lashes flutter and he looks away, Sanji feels something in him settle. The relentless buzz that always seems to sit just beneath his skin soothes out into a quiet hum. 

Maybe part of it’s how Zoro’s scarred and still perfect. Untouchable. Sanji couldn’t hurt him even if he tried, even if he blows apart.

His fingers wrap, unthinking, around the neck of the bottle as it’s pushed back into his hand, the pressure of Zoro’s touch lingering until he’s sure that Sanji has a good grip. The swordsman’s boots brush softly across the planks as he turns to leave and he’s halfway to the stairs before Sanji speaks.

“Marimo.”

He knows Zoro turns without even looking. “Hm?”

“Did Luffy really ask you to clean up the galley?”

A pause, before Zoro starts walking again. “Get some sleep, cook. I’ll take the rest of your watch.”

The silence he leaves in his wake is honey-thick. First watch is Sanji’s shift, it always is— He cleans up the galley and stays awake until Zoro comes to take over. 

(The galley is clean. His watch is covered. His mind is quiet.

For once, he can’t find himself another reason to stay.)

 

The sherry holds no evidence of them ever having shared it. Sanji lifts the tinted glass and there’s no trace of Zoro, no proof that his mouth had ever been where Sanji’s is— None of the candied orange and rosemary from the duck they’d had for dinner, gamey and blood-sweet.

I won’t let you go thirsty again.

Sanji tastes it still, gentle in the back of his throat as he drains the bottle.

[arcaneafterhours]

i drew the sbg characters if they were in my comics magic system heres a long post talking about their abilities

i somehow did doodles of all of them in one day lol. THIS IS GOING TO BE A VERY LONG POST BE CAREFUL ABOUT CLICKING READ MORE THIS IS JUST ME YAPPING ABOUT MY COMIC AND ABOUT SBG

ok so the magic system of my comic is basically this: your eye color aligns with a “concept”, and each concept turns into a very unique super power for each individual. it can be anything, as long as it fits the concept. literal or metaphorical. i designed this power system to be very vague so you can be super creative

ill explain each concept as i go down, but i basically switched the sbg cast with my cast, so all of them are called “duo ranked” and have heterochronmia, and their concepts have mixed together to create a new, entirely unique power that fits both concepts in its own creative way.

i also kept one color for every character except for aiden. i kept his red eye, because if i didnt i would be doing FOUR BROWN RANKS and i want to show off this system so ill only do 3 lmao

heres how it went:

starting off with ashlyn, her ability came pretty easy. i kept her green eye(the concept of growth) and gave her a white eye(the concept of enhancement(typically of ones own values or senses)), and they mixed together to give her control over sound, more specifically its volume and frequencies

its very useful for her, she avoids being overwhelmed way easier now and can switch off whatever is bugging her if it gets too loud. coincidentally, eavesdropping is INCREDIBLY easy, since she can just turn up a specific conversation she wants to listen in on. and she can manipulate frequencies so she makes tyler voicecrack all the time because its really funny. very simple power and its perfect for ash. her drawing turned out okay, i kinda rushed them all just to have them done dont expect high quality

I had a VERY fun time coming up with aidens power. he has his red eye(the concept of creation(self explanatory)) and i gave him a purple eye (the concept of perception, like illusions and such) and the two mixed together to allow him to turn duplicate illusions into reality (if he has enough strength to do so). he can create illusions that are specifically duplicates of objects, and they are only temporary for the time being until he actually ‘creates’ it, then of course it just permanently exists. he is limited to only a single duplicate, and one at a time. actually creating something is very draining

the only human duplicate he can make that will function correctly is himself, and he cannot make it more than a temporary illusion. he can make decoy human illusions, but he cannot make them real.

i had a lot of fun trying to draw his stupid hair it was good practice, im very happy with his drawing

next is tyler!! i put “pursuance” in the drawing because i never know how to describe it but tracking or pursual(is that a word??) is a better word i guess?? its in the works

I kept his brown eye(the concept of pursuit(being able to track things basically)) and gave him an orange eye (the concept of healing) and i gave him a pretty literal power of being able to track how far along the healing process an individual is. in turn, this also gives him the ability to sense when someone around him is hurt.

also, since he can track the healing journey, physically touching him will speed it up ever so slightly. if you have a stomach ache just go hug tyler and eventually you’ll feel better

now for possibly my favorite ability, TAYLOR :D! (featuring me forgetting the word pursuit exists and just putting ‘persual’ which may not be a WORD google LIED TO ME HELP DONT LOOK AT IT

ANYWAY just like tyler i kept her brown eye, and then i gave her a pink eye (the concept of connection), which gave me the idea of her being like tylers opposite. i wanted their powers to reflect each other, so where tyler can track physical injuries and how they heal, taylor can ‘connect’ with others and sense their mood and how it has recently been. almost like a graph!! sometimes she accidentally does it and gets overwhelmed trying to keep track of other peoples moods when she isnt prepared to handle it.

and just like tyler, physical touch from taylor will make you happy and calm (hugging taylor does that anyway) so she is like that scene in big hero six where they all lay on baymax because hes very warm and i love her

I HAVE NEVER DRAWN HAIR LIKE BEN PLEASE DONT ASK I DID MY BEST ON THESE LIYTLE DODLES

anyway

for the last time i kept bens brown eye because why does everyone have brown eyes, and then i also gave him white because i got a really really funny idea ok.

ben can track movement of people around him specifically, and he can enhance his own power. if he enhances it enough for one person, he can predict what their course of movement is about to be. its very immediate, so when hes trying to process it the action could very much already be happening. its very useful actually!!!

ITS TIME FOR MY FAVORITE ABILITY RAJGEJR FINALLY NO MORE BROWN ABILITIES

I kept logans blue eye (the concept of movement) and i gave him yellow (the concept of light) because yk yk hes a dlorist photosynthesis WHATEVER

he can basically control the movement of anything in bright light. the control on it he has depends on how bright the light is, so he finds it useful to keep a flashlight on him

THATS ALL, I HAD A LOT OF FUN FOJNG THIS I STARTED AT 10 AM AND FINISHED AT ABOUT 1:30 PM LMAO MY WRJSTS HURT A LITTLE :] If you like the magic system, i post all about the actual protagonists in #comicsafterhours if you want to see more idkffkjmdnfm,,,,,, anyway

if you actually read all that tysm?? love you lots?? ill probably draw my ocs in the sbg situation soon

[rosie-kairi]

Hey want to hear my super sad Ven and Lauriam au? Good cause I wasn't actually asking >:)

So what if when everyone was deciding who goes into the lifeboats Lauriam decided that Ven was small enough that they could share a lifeboat and leave an extra so not as many would be left behind (how that changes things probably not much sadly. They all still get separated across time never to see each other again except Ven and Lauriam).

But then they both end up in the keyblade graveyard. Ven gets complete amnesia and while Lauriam is pretty woosy and doesn't remember everything of their trip to the future he does remember he needs to find Strelitzia, that he has more friends he needs to find and above all else protect Ven. Unfortunately Xehanort finds them (thanks magic mirror -_-) and recognizes them with as the friends from his dreams. Xehanort initially promises to help Lauriam in anyway he can and offers to train him to be stronger. Lauriam doesn't have a lot of options especially with a weakened amnesiac Ven so he initially agrees.

He comes to regret that when the training is essentially xehanort trying to force them into roles of light and dark to create the x-blade which of course fails. Ven doesn't remember much but he does remember Lauriam as one of his friends and the two boys refuse to fight each other. So they often get absolutely thrashed by xehanort. Since ven is still inexperienced he's not able to win on his own and Lauriam focuses more on protecting Ven so he gets beaten due to lack of focus. Days will go by where xehanort leaves them in a wounded injuries state on the ground before healing. And usually he just heals Ven since he's still not strong enough to be a threat.

Lauriam has tried to make some escape attempts to get them to away safety but xehanort is too strong to take on alone especially if lauriam is purposely left in a half healed state.

Eventually xehanort starts to focus more on Ven since he knows he has a powerful darkness trapped inside. Ways of trying to draw it out have included Lauriam being ganged up on by too many enemies and Ven failing to fend off enough to effectively protect him. Ven being forced to fight wave after wave of enemies to get to a tied up Lauriam and getting overwhelmed. Xehanort hopes by pushing him to the brink of death darkness will break free but doesn't.

Eventually his patience grows thin, he thinks an all out assault on Ven's life will finally do it. A critically injured laruaim is off to the side as neo shadow heartless circle around Ven. Lauriam is desperately trying to summon the strength to get to his little brother but can't. Ven is begging for mercy but is ignored and is then nearly torn apart by said heartless as lauriam watches on in horror.

We then get the actual scene of xehanort tearing Ven in two pulling Darkness and Ven's natural born darkness out creating Vanitas. Lauriam struggles to Ven and desperately pulls him away and panics when he sees the light both literally and figuratively leaving Ven's eyes and heart and realizes he's dying. Desperate Lauriam gets up to attack but is knocked down by Vanitas. However the blast creates a portal and Lauriam gets sucked away leaving a dying Ven alone with xehanort.

Lauriam ends up somewhere else (maybe dwarven woodlands) it takes a while for him to gain enough strength let alone energy to heal but he has to find Ven.

Years go by and he's been chasing rumors about a girl with orange pigtails and a boy with spiky blond hair and a key shaped sword. Hope that they're both alive and within in reach. He makes his way to Radiant Garden only to run into Braig/Xigbar/Luxu who recognizes him. Seeing potential in Lauriam Luxu challenges Lauriam and beats him then takes him to the research basement where the other future org members are disappearing. Luxu makes vague references to Ven catching Lauriams attention and demands to know where he is.

Only for Luxu to give him the suggest cruelest grin and be told Ven is dead. They captured him and tortured him for information on the keyblade war and foretellers but he didn't give them anything. No longer useful they decided to get rid of him but before they did he told then they'd all be sorry when Lauriam comes to save him and he'd make them pay. Luxu delivers the crushing blow that Ven died calling and begging for his brother to save him.

This does the job and Lauriam succumbs to darkness and willingly gives up his heart. The crushing weight of failure, grief, and regret too much to bear. He failed his siblings. He didn't protect them and now they're both gone he has nothing left so becoming a Nobody is a welcome respite from the agony he feels.

And as he walks the hallowed halls of Castle Oblivion Marluxia gets the strangest feeling of dejavu as if something important is here but he can't quite put his finger on it but if it really were that important well he would've remembered it right?

Meanwhile deep in the chamber of waking Ven sleeps safe but imprisoned and even though he's waiting for a different friend to come save him his dreams show that he longs for someone else to open his eyes and promise him everything will be alright.

TL;DR what if Lauriam and Ven escaped together become Xehanorts victims, Lauriam couldn't stop Ven from being ripped in two they get separated again, he refuses to believe Ven is gone and that's the only thing that keeps him going for years, only to be lied and told that the only person he had left is gone and he failed miserably to save them and their last moments were begging to be saved, so losing his heart was all Lauriam could do to escape his pain.

^ my honest reaction to this

oughghhhhhh.... anon how could you...... the goddamn heartbreak. turmoil. i'm gonna kill old man xehanort with my own two hands

[mistress-ofmagic]

Around the Realms in 80 days - chapter 21

Pairing: Reader x Loki

Story summary: You have fallen through a portal during the convergence into Asgard and come face to face with Thor, and his brother Loki. With no way to return, you must travel with the two men and their hoard of asgardian soldiers to get back home. Things get from bad to worse when you have to share a tent with the god of mischief himself.

Notes:

Hi!!! Hope you are doing well! I don't have much to say here for once other than the fact I really loved writing this chapter and I hope you enjoy it! This is my longest chapter to date standing at just over 5000 words so it has taken me a while! Please let me know what you think as all your comments mean the world!

Read this story on a03!

find all parts to this story on Tumblr here:

Your eyes flickered open. The world was moving fast in bright colours around you. You were vaguely aware of being in someones arms as you travelled through the rainbow tube. You tried open your mouth to speak but you blacked out again.

                                                                            ***

This time when you woke, you woke lying in a bed in the middle of a small room. Your eyes felt heavy, and difficult to open. You just wanted to go back to sleep but there was someone saying your name. 

“How are you feeling?” It was a man’s voice you didn’t recognise. 

“Hm.” You grunted. You mouth felt dry and strange to use. 

How were you feeling? Tired mainly but your torso ached and it felt like there was a heavy weight on your chest. 

“What would you give the pain out of 10?” 

In your state you thought it was a stupid question. You were too tired to concentrate on anything, you couldn’t even open your eyes, never mind try to think critically about pain. 

“It hurts. Like an 8.” You croaked out.  

“Okay. I’m just administering oxycodone, it’s a strong painkiller.” 

You didn’t care if he was administering orange juice, you just wanted to sleep. 

“What is it now?”

“A 6?”

You weren’t completely sure there had been any difference but you wanted to be left alone. The man checked in a couple more times but soon he left you to sleep. 

You spent the next few hours drifting in and out of consciousness, barely aware of your surroundings. Your thoughts meandered through your brain like clouds; never able to catch one and hold onto it for long. You were vaguely aware of people coming in and out to check on you, but you were never sure who or for how long they were there. 

Eventually you came round to keep your eyes open for long enough to notice the dark haired, blue eyed man sat on the chair next to you watching you closely. 

“You’re alive” He spoke matter of factly.

“So they tell me. Don’t get too excited.” 

You blinked heavily becoming more aware of your surroundings. You had an IV tube coming out of the cannula in your left hand and a thin oxygen tube in your nostrils that itched if you thought about it too much. You were donning a sexy hospital gown and were tucked under thin blankets. 

“What hospital is this?” You asked. 

“You’re in Stark Towers.” Loki said, grimly. “They have some wards here, free health care for Stark employees.”  Loki sniffed. “The care would have been better on Asgard.” 

“I’m not so sure Odin would be best pleased with that.” 

Loki didn’t disagree. 

He continued to stare at you, not exactly friendly.

“What?” You grunted, your voice still hoarse.

“What?” He parroted, “What?” His voice started to raise, “You’re lucky you are not dead you wretched girl. If you were not in so much pain right now…”

“Yeah well you’re lucky to be alive too! You’re welcome by the way Jesus, next time I won’t bother.” You were in pain and irritated. 

“Good, you shouldn’t.” He spat. “ I don’t think you realise… you could have died! I could have lost you.”

You both looked surprised at his admission. His eyes wide and mouth open slightly as if he wasn’t expecting those words to come out of his mouth.

“Well, I’m still here.” You said in a small voice. 

Loki sighed and ran his hands through his hair. He looked almost as tired as you felt, with dark circles under his eyes and unkempt hair. 

Your torso continued to hurt and you knew that if you tried to sit up it would be worse so you didn’t bother. After all that drama you felt exhausted.

“I apologise, I shouldn’t have raised my voice, not when you are in this condition.”  He breathed. “We can talk about this later.”

There was a few moments silence before you decided to change the subject. 

“What happened after I fell?”

“I took you back via the Bifrost.”

“And the Fire demons?”

“Thor and the others came out on top mostly, but we didn’t learn as much as we hoped.” He sighed. 

“Actually…” You repeated back the conversation you had with the fire demon who had cornered you. 

Loki looked thoughtful.

“I wonder what they’re using humans for.”

Your mind flicked back to that conversation which had resulted in you shooting the demon. 

You shuddered.

Loki quickly switched his attention back to you,

“Are you cold?” He asked, sharply. 

“Er, no.” You ignored the strange feeling in your stomach that arose due to his consideration, a feeling that had nothing to do with your injures. 

Loki was still staring at you and you signed, 

“I guess I feel bad about…hurting that fire demon.”

Loki continued to stare at you, unnerving you slightly. 

“Well,” You huffed defensively “What if he was married? What if he had tiny fire demon babies and enjoyed going to see fire demon movies at the pictures on weekends and I just…”

His eyebrows raised and his mouth twisted into a smile.

“Stop laughing at me, sorry I’m not a cold blooded killer like you.” You turned your face away from him.

Loki signed and looked at you amused. 

“You’re sweet.”

You turned back to him to scowl. A rare compliment from Loki and you were outraged. 

“I’m not sweet, fuck off.” 

He laughed and then spoke, seriously, as if just remembering again why you were here in the first place. 

“You saved my life.” This time he didn’t say it angrily.

“Yeah well, we all make mistakes.” You brought the tone back to being lighthearted. 

There was a pause for a moment and then Loki said, 

“Fire demons don’t get married and have babies, or go to the theatre.” 

You turned back to face him, still scowling. 

“Well” you spluttered “then how are they created?”

“They’re formed, where the volcanic ash meets the flowing lava in the core of Muspelheim. Some say they are all the offspring of Surtur.”

“Huh.” You let this information sink in. “All of them his offspring? Gets around a bit then doesn’t he, ol’ flame breath.” 

“Alas, I see you are back to your normal self.” 

You managed to crack a smile and then frowned thoughtfully. 

“What was that thing Surtur was talking about rag-thingy?”

Loki sighed and rubbed his head, “Ragnarok.” He spoke slowly. “The destruction of the cosmos and everything in it.” 

You took a second to take this in.

“Not to sound stupid but like…why would Surtur want to even cause that?”

He gave you a slide glance. 

“Its written in the prophecy that Surtur would bring about the ending of the realms, nothing left but the void. Then, in its place, a new, better world would emerge lead by superior beings.”

“Sounds kind of like a message a cult would try and push. And Surtur’s okay with dying if it means fulfilling the prophecy?” 

Loki gave a half shrug,

“Perhaps he thinks he will survive to lead as the superior being or perhaps he feels driven to simply fulfil his prophecy, who can tell.”

“Well the other realms will want to stop this right? He won’t be able to go ahead with it?”

To your surprise Loki continued to look grim. 

“It is like you said, some believe it is a mere fairytale, told as fiction or believed by an insolent few with nothing better to believe in. Would your people believe this?”

You shook your head, as you said before, it sounded like a stupid cult. 

“Other versions of the story talk of the destruction of the Aesier Gods and the rise of the new Gods and there are many who would wish for this to come to fruition, and rather than stopping it would help enable it. I believe Surtur would work with anyone to help him bring about Ragnarok.”

Your eyes felt heavy again. The conversation had been an exhausting one and despite the fact you should be horrified, you mainly just felt sleepy. Loki noticed your fatigued state.

“You should get some rest. The doctors say that you will be very drowsy after the strong medication you have been given.” 

“Thank you nurse Loki.” You yawned. 

You were out before you could catch his reply. 

                                                                             ***

The next time you work up, Loki was still sat in the chair next to you, squinting and looking irritated while he was apparently watching Ice Age 2 on the television. 

“You’re still here.” You blurted out, surprised. 

Loki glared at you, “I can leave if you’d prefer.” He said, affronted. 

“No.” You said too quickly, his expression turning to one of surprise. “What I meant is…I was just surprised that’s all. I assumed you’d have better things to do than sit with me while I fall in and out of sleep, I’m not exactly much company. 

“I grew up with Thor, believe me this is much more preferable company.” He turned back to the TV.

“How are you finding Ice Age 2?” You asked. 

“Pitiful. Is this really what Midgardians see as entertainment?”

“Hey, this is a classic.”

He gave you a disparaging look as the nurse came into the room.

“Ah good, you’re awake. How do you feel?” She shot a couple of anxious glances towards Loki but to your surprise didn’t react too adversely to his presence. 

“Tired still.” You said truthfully.

“The aesthetic will make you tired, it can take 24 hours for the effects to wear off so you are likely feel fatigued for a while. Now you are awake I can take your oxygen tube off.” 

She bent down to do so and you were grateful for the relief from the itchy feeling of the tube. 

“You should try and eat and drink something.” She advised you.

Ugh, the thought of food made you feel sick. She saw the look on your face and said,

“I’ll bring you something light, make sure you keep drinking through.” She indicated to the jug of water next to you.

“Here, let me sit you up a bit.” She pressed the button on the side of the bed and raised the back so you were sat instead of laying. 

You pushed yourself up higher and cringed in pain at the feeling of moving. 

“Are you okay?” Loki asked, quickly. 

“Fine just hurts.” You winced. 

Now that you were sat up, and feeling more awake, the nausea kicked in much heavily. You took a tiny sip of water and felt worse. 

The nurse popped out the room and brought back some crackers, laying them next to the water. You eyed them, grossed out by their presence. 

“I’ll come back to check on you later.” She said pleasantly and then left. 

You closed your eyes again and tried to fight off the feeling of nausea. 

“You should eat something.” 

You didn’t reply you were busy focusing very hard on not being sick. 

“You should eat something.” Loki repeated.

“Yeah thanks.” You mumbled non-committally. 

Loki tutted angrily. “Do not make me repeat myself a third time. Do you want me to feed you like a babe?”

You cracked an eye open. 

“Er no, no one wants that.” 

“Well then eat something you silly chit.” 

“You’re so pushy.” 

Unfortunately, opening your mouth to speak triggered your gag reflex. 

Loki jumped in his chair and moved his arms as if he was about to touch you and then thought better of it. 

“Can you get the nurse to bring me a sick bucket.” You moaned. 

“Right.” 

He disappeared out of the room for a moment and came back with some disposable sick bowls that you always thought looked like cardboard hats.

“Here.” He passed you the bowl.

You sat yourself up higher and resumed the “I’m going to be sick” position over the bowl. Loki still hadn’t left and you side eyed him. 

“Can you go please?” You gagged again. 

Even in your state, you had enough pride to not want a God watching you as you threw up.

“Nonsense.” 

To your surprise, Loki stepped towards you and gently moved your hair so it wasn’t in your face. 

“I have seen worse things than an ill maiden.” He spoke softly. 

Ugh, fine, you thought. If he wanted to stay for the show so be it, you couldn’t be bothered arguing. Nor did you have time as it turned out as you expelled the contents of your stomach. 

Loki passed you some tissue to wipe your mouth with. You groaned and lay back as the nurse came and took the bowl away, giving you a fresh one. 

The aesthetic and painkillers unfortunately did not agree with you, and you threw up a few more times. Loki continued to stay with you, despite the fact that you doubted Asgardian Gods regularly nursed over humans. 

“Thanks.” You mumbled grimly as he took away one of your sick bowls. 

“You have thanked me nearly ten times now mortal, stop it or I will shut your mouth for you.”

“I am thankful though, you really didn’t have to stay.” 

Loki didn’t reply but brought you back another bowl and sat close to you. 

“This is humiliating.” You moaned. 

“There is nothing humiliating about being ill. Mortals still have such old fashioned ideas about modesty.” 

“That’s easy for you to say. You have probably never done anything humiliating in your life.” 

Loki gave a little snort but didn’t reply. You stared at him with your eyes narrowed. 

“Go on then, what is the most humiliating thing you have done?” 

Loki looked at you, unconvinced. 

“You’ve just held my hair back while I was sick, you owe me one humiliating story. Also I saved your life so.”

Loki rolled his eyes. 

“You’re always going to use that as a bargaining chip to get what you want, aren’t you?” He said dryly. 

“Hm. Now spill.” 

He took a deep breath in.

He spoke slowly, “A couple of hundred years ago I…I slept with Fandral.” 

You stared at him, your mouth opened slightly and eyes widened in surprise. You really hadn’t expected him to say that, you thought he would say something like “once I tripped up in front of the royal council” or “one time Thor left me with a black eye.” 

He met your gaze, waiting for your reaction. 

“What was he like?” You asked.

He gave you a little flick on the nose.

“Ow. I’m being serious Loki. Fandral is a good looking guy. Sleeping with a good looking guy isn’t humiliating. That’s like me saying oh this one time I won an award for being the too sexy and hot, it was so embarrassing for me.” 

Loki ignored you and continued to look like he’d sucked a lemon. “They were dark days.” 

“We’ve all slept with someone we don’t like as a form of punishment.” You paused, “Thanks for telling me, I know it meant a lot to admit that.” 

He gave a tight smile.

“Don’t get too used to it mortal. I merely told you to stop you from winging about being embarrassed from throwing up in front of me.” 

You spent the rest of the day flitting in and out of sleep, Loki beside you the whole time. You were to be kept a close eye on to ensure you were okay to be discharged so you stayed the night. To annoyance, Loki was asked to leave the ward at night. You persuaded him to go and get some rest and get a fresh pair of clothes and with great reluctance he agreed. 

That night, you dreamt you were back on Muspelheim fighting fire demons. This time, when you tried to run to save Loki your legs wouldn’t move and you had to watch on as one of the demons took him down. The next time, Loki was completely blue and he was the one attacking Thor and the others while you tried to get to him. 

You woke up abruptly, in a cold sweat and alone in your hospital bedroom.

Until now, you had completely forgotten about Loki’s skin turning blue and cooling your burns down. How could you have forgotten that? Was that part of Loki’s magic skills or something else? You were going to have to ask him about it when he visited later. Assuming that he did visit later of course, he had been there for the full day before he might decide his caring duties were finished. You closed your eyes again and managed to get back to sleep.

In the morning the nurse had brought you something to eat, which you managed to keep down. After she’d helped you to use the facilities you were sat up feeling a bit brighter now the aesthetic had worn off and watching day time T.V.  

The door swung open but it was Thor that tipped into your room looking somewhat sheepish and holding a big bunch of flowers. 

“You’re awake!” He greeted you, and planted a kiss on your cheek. 

“Thor! Thanks for the flowers.”

Seeing Thor, future king of of Asgard stood in your small room with the largest bunch of flowers you’ve ever seen felt very strange somehow, as if he didn’t quite fit the space he was in. 

“Er, sit down.” You indicated to the chair Loki had been residing in after a few moments of him stood awkwardly at the foot of your bed. 

He plonked himself in the chair and then said, rushed,

“Latte, I cannot apologise enough for what happened and I am so glad to see you well. I take full responsibility for what happened to you and -.” 

“Thor, oh my god, honestly it’s not your fault.” 

He continued to look grave. 

“I should have been keeping closer watch on you when we were on that forsaken planet and…” 

“Seriously, Thor it’s fine I made my own choices.” 

He sighed heavily but looked relieved. 

“Thank you for saving my brother.” He said seriously. “Just to think, a little while ago you both hated each other, and now look at you, firm friends.” He beamed.

“Well, okay, let’s not be too hasty.” You tried to sit yourself up a bit higher. “How is everyone else doing?”

“Fine, fine. The rest of the warriors headed back to Asgard. Stark wants to speak to you by the way when you are feeling better. He said he might come down and see how you’re doing.” 

There was a couple of moment of comfortable silence when you remembered your dream earlier. 

“Thor, erm, can you tell me more about Loki’s…parentage?” You asked, tentatively.

His forehead creased.

“Why do you ask?” 

“So there was this moment when I got hit by the fire demons Loki’s erm hand turned blue and like really cold?”

Thor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“I think its’ best I let Loki tell you more about that.” 

You sighed, you thought he would say as much but it was worth a try. 

Thor actually stayed with you for a couple of hours, watching Madagascar and it was nice to have some company. Unlike Loki, Thor actually seemed to find cartoons amusing and kept guffawing with laughter.

After a while, Loki popped by to see you again. He looked a little fresher than when you’d last seen him, but still had dark under eyes and a pale complexion. He was holding a bunch of flowers himself and he seemed unsurprised but a little irritated to see Thor there. 

“I can take it from here, thanks.” Loki told his brother. 

Thor kept his eyes glued to the T.V, “I’m just waiting to see if these animals make it back to their zoo.” 

Loki glowered at him and Thor eventually looked up and got the hint. 

“Er, see you later then Latte. I’ll come down and see you soon.” He gave you another kiss on the cheek to which Loki scowled further and then left. 

Loki moved Thors flowers from your bedside table and put his down instead, moving Thor’s to further away from you. 

“You didn’t strike me as the flowers type.” You raised your eyebrows pointedly. 

“These are from my mother.”

“Huh?” 

Loki gave you an irritated look. “She wrote to say she wishes you well.” He fussed over the flowers.

“You… you wrote to your mother about me?”

You felt funny inside, you were both flattered and unsure how you felt about the Queen of Asgard perceiving you and knowing what you got up to.

Loki shrugged your comment off and sat down where Thor had been. 

You would normally spend longer pressing him but you really wanted to talk about the big blue elephant in the room.

“I need to ask you something.” You geared yourself up for your next question.

“Oh?” Loki was indifferent.

“Er yeah.” 

When you took a deep breath in you caught Loki’s attention and he eyed you cautiously.

“Is this about Fandral again because it was a long time ago and…”

“No! No it’s not about that.” You interjected.

Loki relaxed back into his chair,

“Ok, then…?”

“How come your hand turned blue and cold when I got shot with that fire bolt?” You blurted.

Loki froze in his seat for a couple of seconds.

“I - I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t play silly buggers with me, I saw it.” 

“I - er what?” You threw him off momentarily with your figure of speech. 

You took this moment to push him further.

“Does it have something to do with your true parentage? I saw some things in a book about erm how maybe you come from an ice planet or something I forgot it’s name…” You faltered at the end of your sentence. “But those books you said are sometimes wrong so…”

Loki continued to stay very still, you weren’t even sure if he had taken a breath.

“You don’t have to tell me!” You rushed, “If it’s like a sensitive topic or something I was just curious but if you don’t want to tell me then that’s fine of course.” You blathered.

He blinked a couple of times before he spoke.

“Yes.” He seemed to force himself to say. 

You wanted to ask “yes what?” But you let yourself be quiet. 

There was a long pause and you thought about changing the subject when he finally spoke.

“I should probably tell you.” He spoke, strained. 

“Well, er, only if you’re sure.” You hung on to his every word.

“It seems to have put some of it together already. I can’t say I’m surprised.” He seemed to deflate. “My father, my true father is Laufey, a frost giant from Jotunheim. And my mother…well one assumes she was a lesser frost giant. Either way I was abandoned and Odin took me in as one of his trophies.” He spat. 

You remembered reading that now, and your mind flicked back to the pictures in your “Norse mythology for dummies” book. You do not remember them being described as an especially nice, kind people. In fact, you could remember that the Asgardians seemed to hate them.

It did not sound like Loki had the nicest of starts in life. 

“And did you always know…?”

“That I was a frost giant?” Loki snorted wildly, “No, Odin elected to withhold that piece of information until a few years ago.” 

Jesus, you weren’t sure how to respond to that. 

From what you knew and had gathered already you started to piece things together. The idea Loki grew up for years not knowing why Odin favoured Thor or knowing why he was different from others made you feel…sad. 

Loki’s face looked pained and although you couldn’t tell exactly what he was thinking about, you felt you were well versed in Loki’s inner battles. He stayed staring down at the floor, and continued to not move. 

“Loki, thanks for sharing that with me.” 

He flicked his eyes up to you. 

“You seem unfazed by this.”  He scowled. 

It seemed he was waiting for something but you weren’t sure what he needed from you. How do you react when someone shares something so intimate with you? Perhaps he didn’t think you were being upset enough.

“No, no,  I’m not unfazed, I think its’ really sad! I’m really sorry to hear that happened to you.”

You cringed at your words, you were clearly not very good at this.

Loki scoffed, “You should be scared, not sad.”

Now you were genuinely confused,

“Why would I be scared?” You asked slowly.

“I’m a monster.” He flashed his eyes at you. 

“Well, I already knew that.” You caught his eye so he knew you were joking with him but he didn’t smile back.

“I look like a monster.” He said plainly, as if he wasn’t too bothered by this. 

You weren’t sure how to respond to that or if he was looking for an ego lift or not. He was normally so cocky about his looks too so this had thrown you for a loop. You felt your face grow warmer as you tried to navigate your words.

“Well er I don’t know if it makes you feel any better but I actually think you look rather…good…you know, er, you’re pretty good looking and it feels like you’ve never really had an issue you know, scoring or anything…”

“Not in this form, obviously.” He rolled his eyes. 

“Wh- like…an ultimate form or…?” 

“My frost giant form.”

“Right, well obviously I haven’t seen you in that form so I can’t really comment. I also don’t know loads about frost giants so it’s kind of hard for me to understand, I guess I haven’t got much context…” 

Loki nodded and stood up suddenly. You thought you must have offended him and he was going to leave but he stalked over to the door and shut it. 

“I’ll show you.” 

You tensed yourself, your heartbeat quickening, unsure of what was about to happen. 

Loki stood at the bottom of your bed and closed his eyes. 

Swiftly, his skin started turning a pale blue colour and he grew even taller. Markings appeared on his skin, trailing down his arms and face. Finally he opened his eyes and you were shocked to see that they were a bright red. 

Your mouth hung open and you took a couple of seconds to take in the transformation. 

“See. You are scared.” His eyes narrowed at you, getting angry at your reaction.

“No?” You stuttered, scared. 

You gripped onto your blankets, and swallowed hard. 

It really was a shock seeing him like this. It’s not every day someone in front of you suddenly completely changes.

“No.” You repeated stronger this time. “I’m not scared its just that you look, different, and it’s taking me a second to get used to it. If I grew a few feet and turned purple or something you would have to get used to it, ’m not saying it in a bad way or anything…”

Truthfully now you were settling in to seeing him like this and your breathing had calmed down you really didn’t hate it. He still looked like Loki, with the same long dark hair and facial structure. To be honest you thought the colour was pretty and the markings were very cool. The more you looked at him the more you liked it. 

“I actually think this is a good look. It kind of suits you.” You said, candidly.  “So does all of you look like this when you transform or…?” You asked, innocently. 

Loki flashed his startlingly red eyes at you but you thought you could see a hint of a smirk too. You were relieved to see a shadow of his normal self and humour peaking through a somewhat angsty mood. 

Loki turned himself back to how he normally looks. 

“I meant what I said Loki. It genuinely must have been horrific to learn that there was such a large part of your past that you had been missing up until now.” 

He didn’t say anything and continued to stand.

“The monster that parents tell their children about at night.” He chuckled.

“Well hey, if it makes you feel any better I definitely won’t be telling my children about you. And if you’re trying to scare me off you forget I have seen you with bed head, and I still stayed friends with you even after that, no form of you could be scarier than that.”

You managed to get a half smile out of him before he sighed.

“I have gotten used to this part of myself.”

You nodded, encouragingly,

“That can’t have been easy, to find out you are something that your people have always despised and been brought up to hate and to make peace with that. That’s a massive achievement.” You smiled at him. 

“Yes I know.” He said, stiffly and rolling his eyes.

“I have made peace with being a monster now.” He eyed you curiously “however a sane human would have rang for the nurse and asked me to leave.” 

You snorted, you thought about saying “I’m not like other girls” ironically but you didn’t think Loki would get the joke. 

“Are you saying I’m not sane? That’s kind of rude, I’m in hospital, aren’t you supposed to be cheering me up?”

Loki gave you the exasperated look you were used to him giving you.

“Come on, why don’t you sit that blue ass down and watch…” You flicked the guide on “…Harry Potter with me?” 

Loki gave you a stern look.

“I will sit down, but not because you told me, because you are unwell and have been through serious physical trauma. Clearly this trauma involved a sever bang to your head which has made you think you can talk to me in such a vernacular way. I will forgive you however, because you are a patient.” 

“That’s very generous of you your majesty.” 

Notes: What did you think?? let me know!

Taglist:

@creationsbyme  @kikster606  @slytherinintj13  @th0rswh0res  @huntress-artemiss  @jannieka394 @stefffrs  @misswimberly @thedistractedagglomeration  @yoongissidebitchh  @purplekitten30 @mischief2sarawr  @johnmurphys-sass 

@lonadane  @imalovernotahater @lokisgoodgirl  @laliceee @dlwrish @paetonnn  @lovelysizzlingbluebird   @reas-writing  @buttercupcookies-blog @acidcasualties @alialiclouds 

@buckybarneslovesteve @evelyn-rathmore

[whatisreggieshortfor]

His Jacket

Komori x reader

Your mom had decided to make you go through your childhood bedroom- make piles of what could be donated or thrown away, pack up what you wanted to take back to your own place.

That was how you found it.

Tucked into the back corner of your closet.

Your ex’s high school volleyball jacket.

You hadn’t spoken since the break up, a mutual but painful experience, when you and your high school sweetheart realized life was taking you different ways. He was getting recruited, you were going off to university. You didn’t want to hold him back, it was the last thing you’d ever do, so you let him go. And he did the same.

You slipped the jacket on, even though the color scheme always made you laugh. Yellow and green were such brightly colored choices, but you had always thought he made it look good. It didn’t smell like him anymore, which made sense. It had been in your closet for over four years. But you could still remember it when you closed your eyes and tried hard enough. You knew you should return it, but it hugged your shoulders the same as it used even though you’d grown a bit more, it made you feel like you still had him.

So you kept it on.

You packed up the rest of what you wanted, stowed it in your car, and made the trip back home. Unfortunately, you went about the rest of your day forgetting you had it on. Like when you left your apartment to grab a coffee after moving the boxes.

It was such a simple lapse in judgement, thinking about the distance between Tokyo and Kanagawa and Shizuoka City, you shouldn’t have run into anyone that knew who the jacket belonged to. But then again, life was never easy.

“Aye, Sakusa, look! It’s someone from your alma mater!”

You closed your eyes, deeply breathing and praying there was someone else here in the school colors but too afraid to look. The deep voice you knew well drifting over, “I’m surprised you know what alma mater means, Miya.”

“Wha- I know things!”

“Knowing things doesn’t just mean being able to hit on random strangers and managing a number less than half the time.”

“Wha- Omi!”

Maybe they’d keep arguing and forget about you. Maybe they would leave you alone.

But again, life is never that easy.

Slumped in your chair, staring down at your mug, you could’ve almost ignored the presence that appeared at the other side of your table, but he’d always had such a commanding aura.

“I thought that was you.”

“Hi, Kiy- Sakusa.” You cringed internally, hating that even all these years later you had the urge to use his first name, “It’s, uh, it’s good to see you.”

His dark eyes stared at you, most of his face still hidden behind his mask like it was in high school, “I wasn’t expecting to run into you… we’re here for a match.” You nodded, lips pursed as the two of you tried to navigate small talk after so many years. Just as you opened your mouth, it was like he read your mind, “He’s doing okay. Figured you’d want to know considering…” he gestured vaguely at the jacket you wished you had remembered to take off.

“Yeah… was hoping he was doing well.”

“Omi-Omi! We need to get to the gym!”

Rolling his eyes, Sakusa went to leave, but froze, “I know you think I didn’t care for your company in high school, but you were… tolerable.” You snorted and could see his eyes crinkle behind the mask like he was smiling, “You were good for him. It’s not my place, but it might be time to reach out again.”

He was following his teammates through the door before you could reply, only for the smaller one with orange hair to run back inside, “Hi! Sakusa wanted to invite you to the next game but didn’t want to walk back in where there were so many people. We play tonight against VC Kanagawa, he’s gonna leave your name on the list, okay?” You had to laugh as he ran back out before you could say anything.

Even if they stayed for your reply, it’s not like you were gonna go.

You were there. Unsure what led you to the decision, it was like you were on autopilot until you found yourself outside the gym, and then suddenly you were frozen with the ticket in hand.

What were you honestly doing here? It’s not like you avoided volleyball since high school graduation and the break up, in fact you had managed your uni team, but you had never ventured so closely into his territory. This wasn’t just the game of a friend from high school, this was his cousin. How could you come here when you hadn’t reached out? Hadn’t spoken since you left his home to cry yourself to sleep in bed nearly five years ago?

You were knocked out of your head by someone stumbling up behind you and thumping into your back, “Oh! I’m so sorry. I didn’t… see you…”

You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You also didn’t need to turn around to know he knew who you were. But you turned slowly all the same, finally seeing him in person again, “Hey M- hey Komori. I guess I should’ve expected to see you when Sakusa invited me to the game.”

The smile he gave you was tinged with sadness, “No more Motoya, huh? Never thought we’d get to that day, Y/N.”

You gave a small laugh, “Neither did I. Ya know, I’ve been tracking you- I mean your team, obviously I mean your team.”

His smile changed to that big grin that used to make your heart melt- that still made your heart melt, “My mom has kept in touch with yours, so I guess I’ve been tracking you too. Accountant at a law firm, huh?”

You made a face, “Yes. Get yelled all day about spending by the people doing the spending and claiming it has to do with cases when it rarely does.”

His laugh was so refreshing, like you hadn’t heard a sound that beautiful in all those years, “You know you could always contact that old friend of yours from Nekoma- Kuroo, remember? He works for the JVA now. Maybe they need accountants.”

“Yeah, he’s tried to recruit me.” You laughed, before it faded and you struggled to smile as big, “I didn’t want to tread on your territory.”

Komori gave you a look that seemed to cross between empathetic and confused, “Since when was this only ever my territory? Far back as I can remember, you were always here with me.” You gaped, floundering for something, but he just slowly took your hand, “Are you seeing anyone?” You opened your mouth, but couldn’t force the sound out, so you shook your head. “Mind letting me take you for a drink after the game then? I know it’s been a while, but you’ve just…”

“Always been on your mind?” You ventured, and when he nodded you squeezed his hand, “You’ve always been on mine, too, Motoya. I would really like to get a drink with you.”

He grinned again, “Kiyoomi told me he found you wearing my jacket, by the way.”

“That rat!”

Sakusa smirked when he saw the two of you sitting together in the stands.

And he smirked again a few years later when he stood next to the two of you as Komori’s best man.

Masterlist

[yuzuwakano]

Kurona Ranze isn't much taller, around 5’3. She has a bob and bangs that she cuts herself and two long strands on each side of her face that she ties into braids when she's bored of whatever you're saying. She has shark teeth and braces with blue rubber bands to fix her overbite. She has a collection of cat and slogan t-shirts and fun colored thigh high socks that get covered up by the same dark blue shark sweatshirt and pair of brown boots every day. She carries around the same plastic water bottle every day and goes on rants about overconsumption killing the ocean. She paints her nails with sharpies and pens and doesn't know how to use makeup but still carries around a bag of dollar store eyeshadow and clearance aisle lipstick. Her favorite movie is one that aired on television 9 years ago and her favorite song is one she heard in a grocery store one time. She doesn't understand poetry that doesn't rhyme but likes stories of women falling in love with someone that might be a man. She imagines that it's not. 

Kurona Ranze likes a girl. 

Kiyora Jin was a solid 5 foot tall. Her hair comes down to her mid back and she pins it back with too many hair clips. She treats her wine lipstick as blush and eyeshadow and her mascara as eyeliner. Her skirts all come down past her knees and she's been wearing the same pair of converse since her first year of highschool. Her bag is tearing at the seams and her oversized shirts are all hand me downs from her sisters. She has a red pen that she uses to draw up and down her arms, doodles of stars and swirls and intricate patterns she’ll never be able to recreate. She carries around the same poetry book everywhere, it's tattered at its corners and no one is sure where she got it but Kurona knows. She likes statues of dead people and her interpretive dance class. She's the most interesting person Kurona has ever met. 

She doesn't talk but if she did Kurona would listen to her all day. Kurona knows her favorite colors and the difference between her favorite songs even though they all kind of sound the same. Kurona Ranze has memorized Kiyora Jin the way Kiyora Jin memorizes poetry. She sees Jin when she closes her eyes and holds her hand when they cross the street even though Ranze was about 80 percent sure Jin doesn't like girls. Was. 

“I like you.” 

“I like you too, Jinnie. You're my best friend.” 

They were at the library again, it was the only place in 100 miles that they could get away from the howling jocks and laughing hyenas that called themselves their classmates. They were half whispering even though they were the only people on the floor. Jin was reading the same poetry book that she had last week and Ranze had found a new shark book on the kids floor. 

“No.” Jin's eyebrows were furrowed as she tried to find the words that she was looking for. Her brain thought in the form of the poetry she memorized and songs she vaguely knew the names of. It's hard to make your own sentence when all of the puzzle pieces are too big. She was searching her catalog of death themed rhymes and cryptic rhythms for romance, a genre that she never ventured into. 

“Like Romeo and Juliet.”

“I don't want to be Romeo and Juliet.” 

Jin whipped her head around, confessing was risky but the rainbow bracelets and pink and orange pins on Ranzes backpack made her feel safe. It was on a whim but she had been confident that she was right. Had she miscalculated? Or was the problem not that she was a girl but that she was her. 

“I want to be Virgina Wolf. You can be Vita Sackville-West. She was a poet like you.” 

“You almost killed me.” 

“Sorry, sorry.” They were laughing now, and though she didn't like poetry Ranze could write a million pages about the way Jin looks and sounds and feels in her hand when she laughs. 

“I like-like you too.”

“Like-like,” Jin mirrored back. 

“It's one way to say it, it's clunky, clunky. They don't use it in poems.” but she said it again. “Like-like.” She was memorizing it. Memorizing Ranze like a synth wave song and Edgar Allen Poe. 

“We should get married.” 

“I have dance class later.” 

“Not now.” Ranze laughed again, for as literate as she was she could be a little air-headed, she had her head in books and that's where it stayed when she closed the pages. “Just in general, like later in life, later.”

“Oh.” Jin thought about it, she imagined a wedding in a cemetery and shark themed cupcakes. In her head she started a new poem about white tulle covered in mud and frayed at the end by sea creatures made of bones and love. 

“I'll get us a dog, we can name it after a food.” 

“Oreo.” 

“Bagel.”

“I like bagels.”

“I know.” 

[toonqueen]

Duckvember Day 5: Hypnotic Duck

So for Hypnotic Duck I guess I’m just going to explain a Mighty Ducks OC I really never used because she’s so branched off from the main stuff I used to write back in the day that I never got to her. 

Her name is Priscilla Decoy. Pretty much used Priscilla so she could be called Pris for short which is my fave Bladrunner character lolol. Her mom is Lucretia Decoy. Pris happened while she was in dimensional limbo. I have her being Lucretia’s second child. First being Maestro which is Lucretia’s kid with Canard.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

Her father is a Saurien named Ricochet. His personality I had vaguely as being like Shaggy from Scooby Doo but not a coward, if that makes any sense. I GUESS I COULD JUST SAY I HAD HIM BE A STONER I GUESS THAT’S WHAT I WAS GOING FOR. Also personality bit like Nosedive so if they ever met Nosedive could gloat to Duke that he was more Lucretia’s type. Ha. I had him being a tan/mustardy colored with his species being duck bill dinosaur based because I thought that would be funny for him to be duck adjacent. But I’ve also thought of him as that one bearded lizard gif, that being his build also works too. HE WAS NEVER FULLY FLESHED OUT so the species of lizard/dino he has was never set in stone ha. 

Priscilla is tan feathered and dark tan haired, matching more her dad’s coloring. Her bill is also not a bright orange but leaning towards the more tan color of her dad’s scales. She also has scales on the outer edge of her beak cheeks but it is really hard to notice since wearing her hair down covers it and it is a pretty fine line of scales. Her build is like her mom’s but you wouldn’t know it because she’s always wearing baggy hoodies and pants. She has a monotone voice like Daria (from Daria lol). She also has brown/amber eyes that match her father’s eye color. 

My headcanon for Limbo is that the majority of the area's physical reality is warped and not stable. There are pockets where it is like normal reality and over the centuries cities have been built there. You can breathe fine in the wide open ‘unreality areas’ but there is lack of gravity and floating areas of land. Even though you don’t technically need protective gear to be out there, it’s considered bad to stay out there for very long periods of time (like weeks.) It can cause madness and other weird stuff. 

With Maestro, Lucretia and Canard had not heard about how being out in the untamed areas of limbo is bad so when Mae was young he was exposed to it a lot. It didn’t affect Lucretia but later down the line Canard gets some madness from it. (Another long store.) Maestro on the other hand gets some reality bending powers that he has to learn to control when he gets older. His abilities are a really wide variety. Stuff like the gun from Portal and to be able to make illusions and disguises. 

Once Priscilla was born, Lucretia knew better and did a better job of not having her being exposed  to whatever the open area of the limbo nonsense was going on. However, as Priscilla became an adult it became evident she had some bit of a power herself. Not as obvious and powerful as her brothers, but she did it without her even knowing it. She figured out on many occasions people could not say no to her requests and she could, accidentally, have some mind control over them. OOPS. I don’t think she would even realize until she was fully an adult. As a child she was spoiled which didn’t seem unusual because hey you’re a cute kid stuck in limbo of course people are gonna spoil you. And as an adult she just thought people had crushes on her like, “okay, this is the kind of shit mom went through so this is normal.”  It isn’t till some town she’s in gets attacked, and she tells the attacker to go walk off a cliff, and he does it, that she realizes OH SHIT. WELP. This explains A LOT. 

She learns to control it for the most part, but what she does best to avoid it is try not to be perceived. Pris is by no means shy but she just RATHER NOT BE NOTICED IN A CROWD. 

Uh, that's about it about Pris. Only duck I have close to hyponic. Ha. 

This sketch was so good I didn’t want to ruin it by coloring it so I had to draw again just to color and yet didn’t come out the same because that is how life is.

[dandelionpixels]

carol danvers + reader

(platonic/familial)

ask: Hi :))) can I request a Carol Danvers older sister figure fic please where she takes R in as a surrogate sibling, but they're not used to people looking out for them. And just moments of Carol helping them out and maybe they struggle with negative self talk?

- It’s weird when you notice Captain Marvel helping you out so much. First she’s stopping your bag from getting stolen, then dropping an umbrella next to you when you’re stuck walking in the rain, then un-subtly following you home when you’re out after dark.

- It almost makes you suspicious, no one’s ever been so careful about making sure you’re okay. Especially not a flying, glowing, superhero. You assume it must be a coincidence, or maybe a plot to gain your trust and then kill you.

And then one day you drop your coffee, and your shoes get covered in mud, and the lunch place you were walking to closed early. So you just sit on the curb with your head in your hands and procrastinate having to walk home.

There’s a brush of wind next to you, snd when you look up, she’s sitting beside you on the curb. You can’t bring yourself to be excited, or scared, or anything. Looking over at her, you just wave slightly, “Hey.”

She cocks her head, flashing a bright smile, “Hey! What’re you doing, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Taking a breath and glancing back at the restaurant, you gesture vaguely, “My lunch place is closed. I should’ve called to check before I came, I was being stupid. Why are you here? And why am I always seeing you? No offense.”

Smiling again, she shrugs, “None taken. I guess I just think you’re interesting, you remind me of me, a little bit.”

You both sit in silence for a moment until she stands up, and offers an outstretched hand, “My name’s Carol, by the way. It’s nice to actually meet you! Do you want to go somewhere else for lunch, as an apology for stalking you?”

- You take her hand and the two of you go to a cute diner that Carol says she used go to all the time. You both spend hours talking to each other, and it’s more fun than you’ve had in a while.

After that day, you only see her more and more.

- She leaves breakfast at your door a couple times a week, from the diner you went too. Always your favorite, though you’re not sure how she knows.

- When the bus is running late, she somehow appears and offers to gove you a ‘lift’

- When you’re sitting outside, studying in a panic for a test you’re sure you’re gonna fail, she lands nearby, cautiously asking if you want help.

- Every time she offers help, you insist you’re fine. This isn’t how your life’s been, you’ve been taking care of yourself for years. But she just waves you off and helps anyway.

- She leaves her number with you, which you never intend to use.

But then you have a semi-formal event to go to and you’ve never been able to do your hair the way you like, and you can’t find any nice clothes, and you need someone’s help. So with tears pricking at your eyes, you call her. The phone only rings once before she picks up with up a cheerful, “Yello?”

You’re silent, not sure what to say, petrified of being annoying. After a long pause, you sniffle, “My hair’s being stupid.”

“I’m on my way, okay?”

You mumble a thank you and within minutes, Carol is at your door with food and drinks and a sympathetic face. You open the door and almost burst into tears, wiping them roughly, clearly annoyed at yourself.

She closes the door behind her, grabbing your hands, “It’s okay, I know you can handle it yourself. I just don’t want you to have to. Alright?”

You nod reluctantly and she spends the next couple hours sitting on your bed and offering thoughts on your various outfits. She sits on the bathroom counter while you adjust your hair, only jumping in to adjust bits and pieces until it’s perfect. After she insists you eat something, you admit running on nothing but an orange might’ve been part of your meltdown.

She waves you out and insists she’s gonna stay and clean up. When you come home, she’s conked out on your bed. You change into your pajamas and clamber in, smiling softly. It’s been a while since you had someone try to stay up until you come home, to make sure you were okay.

[rwqv]

christmas cheer

or, rev tries to write

a quackity x reader for @wimbledonsoot (because there is not enough 😢)

event organized by @grey-rambles ^_^

cw: swearing, mentions of quackity’s scar, fighting (verbally and physically)

yoooo hahaha hiiii sorry for the wait im just really bad at timing and i still got it out though so hahahha hi

————

“Shit!” Quackity yelled at the top of his lungs. “You bitch, I am going to fucking kill you-”

Quackity looked at you with eyebrows furrowed, and you’d think if he looked at you any longer you’d catch on fire.

You smiled. “Shouldn’t have left Boner sitting out all alone in the rain, poor poor Boner. Do not ever try to steal my shit again.”

The pile of bones left from Boner’s corpse trembled and clacked together in the downpour of rain.

Quackity gritted his teeth. “You’re gonna fucking regret this.”

Months passed. You moved into a house in the middle of nowhere, leaving no trace of where you went. People came by your house whether to talk, trade, or just hand off supplies. You quickly forgot about Quackity’s threat, as you had heard from the people passing by that he got his ass handed to him against Technoblade. You feared nothing from his vague and empty threats.

Until one day, the sound of crackling reached your ears while you were fast asleep. You opened up your eyes only to see your entire farm, your front lawn, and part of your house was blown up. You sprinted outside, it being around 6 AM, to find everything you had been working on in ruins. You were furious, to say the least. The anger almost fueled you to just blow up yourself, until you found a little note not too far away from the wreckage.

Merry Christmas! How do you like the new renovations? Your house was looking quite boring, so I decided to spruce it up a bit ;)

Meet me ASAP. Las Nevadas. My office. I’ll be dying to catch up with you.

-Q

That petty bitch decided to pull this on you. You quickly grabbed your sword and pickaxe (for good measure) and set out for ‘Las Nevadas’ with the help of Tubbo.

As soon as the goat hybrid led you to the sandy hills, he let you marvel at what you were seeing on your own. Luminous signs, advertisements, towering structures, beautiful waterfalls and the cow farms were piercing your eyes, almost too much to take in at once. You stood there a while, gawking at the myriad of sights you were bearing witness to, until Tubbo looked back at you and snapped you out of it.

“Hurry up! It’s getting late, and navigating through the woods in the dark is a pain in the arse.” Tubbo whined.

Completely ignoring his complaints, you tentatively asked, “How is Big Q?”

Tubbo then half-assedly responded, “y’know”

“No, I don’t know?” You said.

“Y’know,” He once again responded, but before you could ask him what he meant you reached the doors to his office.

BANG BANG BANG!

You knocked on his door with your fists, almost punching the door. Q had no right to do that to you.

You then heard a sigh, and a shuffle, then followed by a sing-songy voice sung out by who obviously had to be Quackity, “Come in!”

Jesus. You collected yourself one more time before slamming the door open, taking in his room in entirety.

His walls were offwhite with gold pillars running through the walls, shining bright. Bookshelves lined around his desk area, which was facing away from the massive window as a wall, letting the sunset light breathe out into the surrounding areas. The Christmas lights and the tree with gambling coins on it gleamed so bright you’d think it was a star. The marble ground contrasted nicely with the red carpet leading down a straight line right to Quackity’s desk. You finally looked at him to take in the final piece of the puzzle. His hair was longer, a beanie no longer being able to hide the absolute mess his hair was. His face was tainted with a massive scar across his face, leaving one of his eyes blind. His dress shirt was half unbuttoned, revealing the necklace with 2 rings on them, both shining either orange or purple. His wings were out for the first time, yet they did not look healthy at all, since when you knew Quackity was Vice President, Schlatt would clip his wings in a desperate act of power. His feet were up on the desk, him obviously smug and reclining about your obedience to come here at his orders, almost like a dog.

“Oh, I see you’ve come to see me?” He asked calmly.

You were absolutely not having it. “You wrote it in your note, since, yknow, you blew up my fucking house.” you spat out.

“But I did not, I only blew up your front lawn!” He smiled, revealing the one gold tooth he had around the area where the massive scar was located.

You stomped over and grabbed him by the collar. “Now listen here, Alex.” You said with poison in your voice. “You’re going to repay me twofold in property and emotional damage, as well as beg for forgiveness from me. Got that?”

He chuckled. “No.” He simply responded, then broke into hysterics.

You were beyond furious at this point, as your eyes quickly darted to his chest, where the two rings on a string necklace hung. Quickly snatching the necklace, you secured it in the palm of your hand as he then started to bare his teeth.

You, then having a higher sense of pride, then said, “Tsk. Maybe this time you’ll beg for these two rings back. They seem so special to you, as you hold them so close to your heart.” You mocked him.

“Listen here, dipshit.” He growled out, “I don’t think you know how this works. You should be the one paying me for Boner, as well as for the trouble that you put me through.”

You then chuckled, mocking his tone, “No.” You then started fake laughing. “You damaged most of my property, incomparable to a pile of barely sentient bones.”

Quackity grabbed your collar in turn, and with a fiery red in his eye he slapped you across the face. “He was my everything, and you just mercilessly killed him.”

You both now holding each other's collars, and with a red mark across your cheek now, started sparring. You both didnt let go of each other’s collars, instead taking the closeness as an advantage.

You grab his hair that wasn’t inside the beanie, and yanked hard, bringing him to his knees. Yet, as he was still holding your collar, you got pulled down as well (not mentioning the fact that he grabbed onto your legs and pulled) and both of you started to try to grab anything to get back up, letting go of each other's collars. You got up first, finding his desk refuge as you lifted yourself up. Quackity, in turn, staggered up, yet he did not use his desk to lift himself up. He got himself up, then tripped on himself, falling down. You laughed at him as he staggered up again once more. Now, he was even more angry, grabbing his sword from his desk and he was looking back at you, with his sword in his hand.

You in turn, grabbed the pickaxe out of your inventory in an act of desperation, and he seemed to pause his actions for a moment as he stared at the pickaxe in a mix of anger, hate, and fear.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Quackity asked, eyes squinting at you.

“C’mon and fight. Or are you too scared?” You mocked, a smirk plaguing your face.

He growled at you, then starting to swing his sword, he grunted, “Fuck you.”

Your pickaxe and sword clashed together, and you two ended up in a position where the pickaxe and sword were stuck together, with your back facing the wall and Q in front of you.

You could do nothing but try and budge your pickaxe, which did nothing, on account of the fact that neither one of you wanted to let go as to give the other the advantage.

You stared at each other for a good while, slightly shifting, moving around to hope to escape from this, yet none of you could budge.

“Fuck you.” You quickly muttered out, hoping to beat him down with words.

“Go on and try.” He gave you a half-assed smirk.

You stared at him for another two seconds, letting him know about the fact that, you in fact, weren’t laughing at his joke. Finally, wanting to spite him, you closed the gap between you and him with a kiss.

“Jesus-” was all that you could feel from him saying it into your lips, although you could also feel a little smile on his lips.

You pulled away quickly, jokingly wiping your lips and he in turn jokingly spit out.

“We will talk about this later.” He said, before reconnecting with your lips.

—

SPRRY FOR THE BAD ENDING HBAHAHA i did most of this writing at night soooo sorry about that - i dud not read any of this ober so sorry about grammatical issues, i also had no idea and had to recieve help from a friend for the endinv fjriekejhr

[spaceboysbrainspace]

I made a lil zine~

Here’s image descriptions:

Page 1: A drawing of a sea slug, or Nudibranch, on a black background. The slug has a blue body with densely packed, hair-like orange tentacles on its back. Text wraps around the drawing saying ‘Hermissenda Opalescens, Opalescent Nudibranch. We actually saw a ton of these guys!’ Text wraps around the outside of the page, saying ‘On June 10th, 2024*, I went tidepooling with someone I love a lot. We’d been talking about going tidepooling together for months, and discussing our mutual love of nudibranchs for longer still. I’m not sure I would describe the day as the best day of my life, or even the happiest, but it’s a day that sits right between my shoulder blades, where I have a consistent low-level desire for a supportive hand, or a big spoon, or a hug, or some Body to lean against—it sits right in that spot and broadcasts a feeling of “yes, this is Correct, this is how we’re Supposed to Be. This is Love and Delight and Joy and Expansion and Home and Love and Love and Love.” We saw eight different species of nudibranch, catalogued as follows. *June 10th is also my anniversary of starting hormones. For transgendered reasons. :)’

Page 2: A drawing of a sea slug on a black background. This one is all orange, with fewer tentacles, making them look less like hair and more like weird pokey appendages. There are abstractly drawn strands of seaweed in the background. On the left, text wraps around the seaweed that says ‘We woke up at 5am to drive an hour and a half down the coast to meet a Queer Tidepooling group (can you believe that exists?). He fell asleep in the car (a typical occurrence). The coast was beautiful. We got there precisely on time. There were so many amazing tidepool creatures, and, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t mostly there for the sea slugs.’ More text, in a different color, wraps around the other side, saying ‘Triopha Maculata, Spotted Dorid. I’ve learned that these get more spotted, and yellow, as they age. This one was young!’

Page 3: This drawing shows a smaller sea slug, next to an oversized finger tip, suggesting just how small the slug is. The slug has a grey body with red and yellow hair-like appendages. There’s the vague outline of the reflection of a phone screen in the background. Text circles the slug saying ‘Abronica Abronica, Elegant Aeolid. You could barely even see this one without a camera zoom! That’s my pal’s finger. I think I drew the slug too big! They were missing an eyestalk…’. More text wraps around the finger and the phone reflection, saying ‘There was a “guide” there who researched sea slugs and was just… Wildly good at finding them! Both my pal and I had been tidepooling before but hadn’t been able to find nudibranchs. This person found so many!’

Page 4: Another sea slug; this one is mostly grey, with orange racing stripes going down its back, and pokey appendages with yellow tips. There are white blobs in the background. The text wrapping around the slug says ‘Ancula Pacifica, No Colman Name! A rarer one! So cute!’. More text moves down the page in an unusually left-to-right-top-to-bottom fashion, saying ‘Here are some things I’ve learned about nudibranchs: -Nobody knows why they evolved to be so colorful -They get their color from their food -They’re all carnivores, except: -Some eat plants and keep the chloroplasts and start being able to photosynthesize?? -Nudibranch means naked lung; they breathe through the squiggles on their backs -They are just… slugs -They have shells as babies, but! -if they have a shell as an adult—even an internal shell—they’re not a nudibranch! -a they like tide pools that are deep but sheltered -even though they’re so colorful they hide so well! What the heck! -They’re my friends. Even if they’re shy. It’s ok, me too!’

Page 5: This Nudibranch has a white body, with even denser orange hairy tentacles. It’s climbing on a piece of abstract seaweed. Text around its body says ‘Antaeaeolidiella Oliviae. Olive’s Aeolid. More Common Further South.’ Text on the side of the page reads ‘We were in the tidepools for somewhere between two and three hours, surrounded by delighted queers, oohing and aahing and sharing photos and helping each other scramble around slippery rocks and being In Love with the landscape. The ocean was beautiful the people were beautiful my pal was beautiful the slugs were beautiful I was! In love! (I always am).

Page 6: The next slug is bright pink, with longer, still kind of hairy but more like Medusa hair tentacles. There are a small number of white and brown blobs in the background. Text wraps around it that says ‘Ceratodoris Rosacea, Hopkin’s Rose. Maybe actually a space alien?’ The text subtly changes color before continuing. ‘I’ve always felt more at home in the forest than by the ocean but tidepooling spaces are starting to become the exception. Maybe it’s the creatures. Maybe it’s because I love to spend time with my friends. Maybe it’s because I Love to scramble around like a little creature and see something cute and pretty and small and gay and say, “ohhh look! It’s cute and pretty and small and gay!’ Just like me.

Page 7: A slug that’s primarily silver, with white stripes and circles and squiggles going down its back in a symmetrical pattern. There’s something adjacent to abstract seaweed in the background. Around it, the text says ‘Tritonia Festiva, Festive Tritonid. My drawing doesn’t begin to do them justice. They glowed. Called festive because they look like they’re wearing lace. Maybe my favorite? Glam, but understated. Like an opal.’ In one corner, text follows the corner of the page and says ‘My pal and I both knew when it was time to leave. We stopped for brunch on the way home. We split an omelette and a crepe. We chatted about home and relationships with the land. We looked over the pictures of our new friends (the nudis!). I basked in the feeling of going on a goofy little adventure with my goofy tall friend. “This is correct this is correct this is correct,” my body said.’ The text is barely legible by the end. More text wraps around the other corner, saying ‘The funny thing is, I don’t actually know that the land where I’m living feels like home - but it feels more and more like a friend, and more and more I’m feeling at home with myself and with my friendships, like I’m carving a little home out of my life and who I spend time with and how I spend my time. I spent most of the car ride wanting to hold his hand, just like I spend most of my time at home wanting to snuggle my dog and most of my time out on the land wanting to dissolve into the trees, because they’re a piece of me, they’re my home, they’re my loves. You are too, by the way. Let me know if you ever want to hold hands, or let me lean that spot between my shoulder blades against your Body.’

Page 8: The last page. This slug looks like a bright, flame-red blob, with little eyestalks and one little feathery appendage where it’s butt would be if a butt were a coherent body part for a slug. It’s on a bigger piece of abstract seaweed. Text wrapping around it says ‘Rustanga Pulchra, Red Dorid. Kind of like a small, bright orange bunny rabbit.’ Text follows the line of the seaweed, saying ‘Can you believe the world is full of such astonishingly weird and beautiful creatures? And they’re just there! Just right there! Just hanging out! In some tidepools, sleeping in the care next to you, maybe even inhabiting your body! Yes, you are the astonishingly weird and beautiful creature, too! How lucky that we get to share the world together, don’t you think?’

[bungiri]

ask and you shall receive....

ANYWAYS question for your oc wren uhh just give me any facts abt her, i mean anything, as much as you can actually (i will eat it all up)

(you can probably guess who i am, maybe not, who knows 😜)

HELLO 👁️ i think i know who u are AND THANK U FOR ASKING 🫂

omg idk where to start with her cuz i've been brainstorming a whole backstory (the wreniverse if u will) and her relationships w everyone IT'S BEEN FUN

before i start w some random facts, here's a doodle of her cuz i felt like i needed to draw her idk

ANYWAY, my rambling is under the cut RAHHH ‼️

— she is a half witch on her bio mother's side ! it's assumed that her bio father is a human that her mom had a summer fling with while traveling

— she's always been able to use magic ever since she was a little girl, but has very little control over it due to not having anyone to learn from + just not being able to practice it whilst growing up in the city

— however, she Did encounter a woman who claimed she was a fellow witch and was given a spellbook from her. she doesn't understand most of the spells inside though and hasn't attempted any besides the very basics

— her natural hair color is dark brown, but she uses her magic to change it to orange (á la that one scene in the craft)

— wren was adopted at 4 years old by two Very Loving and overprotective dads. she also has a brother who has a career as a well known street artist in the city

— she has reason to believe that she's related to mr. qi in one way or another DON'T LAUGH...DON'T LAUGH...SHE TAKES IT VERY SERIOUSLY (he neither confirms or denies it and his extreme vagueness frustrates her)

— before moving to pelican town, she used to work at McJoja (u can't tell me joja wouldn't have a fast food chain like...) but was fired due to a conflict with a customer and the manager was rly just fed up with her antics in general

— when she moved to the town, wren avoided haley and alex for a good week because she recognized them from high school. she was on the cheerleading team with haley, they weren't too close in hs, and alex was obv a popular gridball player

— her farm's name is deergrave farm and it's believed to be haunted. although she doesn't believe it herself, she likes to use its reputation to entertain the kids with spooky stories or creep abigail, sam, and sebastian out

— she has a big fat crush on lance who either returns or rejects her feelings depending on which route i take her story in 🤔 if she's rejected, they stay very good friends and something else happens with someone else i'm Sure u can guess who

— another route is the Vanilla route where stardew expanded is disregarded and in that route she ends up with haley !

— even though she adores jas, vincent, and kids in general, wren doesn't want any of her own. she's very adventurous and a kid requires a lot of attention that she feels she won't be able to provide. she's more than content with her dog and krobus who she eventually gets to come live with her as her roomie

THIS WAS A LOT IM SORRY i just love her already‼️

[penelopetheconartist]

Coral Island fanfiction by a Rafael simp.

Greetings. I have written in my google keep app while bored at work some fanfiction about my farmer Penelope and certified soft boi Rafael. I only edited it enough for it to make sense. The fic is slow-burn and lighthearted as I am not a fan of too much drama lol. I have a few more google keep notes and there is a vague timeline I am following.

Tentative title Orange Porch Light

Trigger warning- some references to anxiety.

Penelope has been on the island for 24 hours. She started a small garden and has been working on cleaning up her land. She was over it today so she made herself a coffee and went for a walk around the island. She gathered some wild flowers on her walk. It was still early so not many ppl were up and about. She found herself passing the carpenter and walked down the path that looked like it was going back into the town. Penelope saw another flower and knelt down to smell it. Rafael was in the cemetery cleaning up the grave stones. There's something about cemeteries and early mornings that are so perfectly peaceful. He finished one stone and stood up to see a new face just up the road sniffing a flower. She was little and looked even smaller in her crouch. She had a gentle smile on her face as she enjoyed the flower.  She was really beautiful. He realized he was staring and he suddenly felt like a creep. That made him stop, he got back to cleaning the tombstones and hoped she wouldn't come this way since he got himself all flustered now. Penelope picked her new flower and started to walk towards the cemetery. As she approached the cemetery she saw a man cleaning the tombstones. He looked very focused and Penelope felt her hands get real sweaty. He was pretty. She told herself not to stare. "Good morning", she called acting as cool as she could. Rafael looked up, "Oh, hi there", He said shyly. His mind immediately started to tell him to act normal. "I'm the new farmer, Penelope." She reached out for a handshake. Rafael smiled a little and stood to shake her hand, "nice to meet you. Uhm I'm one of the blacksmiths. Rafael." "Oh cool! Nice to meet you too." Penelope was still trying not to stare. He was tall, this pleased her. Her smile was so cheery and her eyes were like a clear winter sky, she was much more beautiful close up. Rafael could feel his cheeks turning pink and he had butterflies in his stomach. "Uhm where is your shop?" She asked. "Oh, just behind the cemetery", Rafael gestured over his shoulder, "I work there with my brother. /" Penelope nodded, "good to know. I may to need to come by later today....my tools are..... Kind sad." "We can definitely help", Rafael smiled and rubbed his neck, "Do you like the island so far?" He asked, forcing himself to make conversation. Penelope sighed, "the island is beautiful. But my plot of land kind of sucks." He grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets, "yeahhhhh, that area has been neglected." Penelope dug her toe into the ground, "no kidding.... I should probably get back to it", she handed him one of her many flowers, "it was nice to meet you Rafael. I'll see you around." Rafael took the flower a little surprised, "yeah Uhm I'll see you around Penelope." She smiled and walked down the path to town. Rafael stared after her until he couldn't see her anymore. He sat down with his flower and twirled it between his fingers. He bounced his leg, why did the new farmer have to be so pretty?? How will he be able to do business with her when she's so cute??? He felt a crush coming on and groaned at himself. Penelope returned to the blacksmiths that afternoon. Her axe was in bad shape but she had hardly enough money to get a new one. Hopefully they can make do with what was left. Rafael was no longer outside. She briefly inspected the business hours outside and was glad to see their hours seemed fairly normal. When she entered, someone she hadn't met yet was at the counter, probably the brother. He too was quite good looking with real nice hair, she thought. But Penelope was really hoping to see Rafael again. Good morning, this other blacksmith greeted, oh hey you must be the new farmer! That's me, Penelope said shyly. This brother is the outgoing one. You're way cuter than I expected. Penelope awkwardly shifted, "uhm okay." Also the flirty brother.... "I'm Pablo", he smiled. Penelope, she mumbled. She just wanted the axe looked at, not to be flirted with. At least, not by this blacksmith. "Oh Penelope!" She turned around and saw Rafael coming in from the other room. "Oh you two have already met", Pablo crossed his arms sounding almost jealous. "Uh yeah. Just this morning", Rafael smiled shyly at her. Penelope could feel a blush rising up her face, he was so cute. "Well how can we help you?" Pablo said. Rafael walked past Penelope and stood next to Pablo. Penelope placed the axe on the counter, "uhm. This is junky.... I don't have a lot of money at the moment but is there anything you can do to salvage what's here?" "Oof that is junk", Pablo said as Rafael picked it up. Rafael gave it a quick once over, "we can make this better." Penelope smiled in relief and Rafael felt his face blush so he tried not to look at her. "Uhm, I can have it ready tomorrow morning? Is that alright?" Pablo could see that Rafael was succumbing to his shyness and he could see Penelope was also blushing. Ooooooh shit, he thought, they're CRUSHING!! Penelope nodded, "yeah that's great!" "Cool! We'll see you tomorrow Penelope", Pablo said extra cheery aftet his quick observations. She waved and Rafael waved too. Pablo smirked at his brother, "so she's really pretty hey?" Rafael cleared his throat but looked away pretending to be nonchalant, "uh yeah." Rafael was bad at being nonchalant and Pablo always could tell when he tried too hard. Rafael attempted to hide his blushing face by finding something to do. Pablo knew him too well, but decided to wait to bug him. They did have quite a bit of work ahead of them. The next day Penelope busted her ass all morning doing land clearing and tending her garden. She was done close to lunch time and realized she hadn't gone to get her axe yet. She was wiped out. After she picks up her axe, she's gonna relax hard for the rest of the day. "Oh, hi Penelope", Rafael greeted smiling politely. He was behind the counter and Pablo was working on something. "Good afternoon", Pablo called and got back to work. Penelope smiled, "hey guys." Rafael grinned and placed her axe on the counter, "it's all ready for you." Penelope yawned but tried to hide it, "thanks. What do I owe you?" Pablo took a quick glance at them interacting and Rafael was blushing again. Pablo laughed to himself and kept working. "Do you still have lots of work to do?" Rafael asked shyly. Penelope picked up the axe, "yeah but not today. I'm too tired to do much else." Rafael nodded. He had noticed she looked a little wiped out compared to yesterday. She must not be used to the physical labor yet. "Yeah make sure to take breaks." Penelope took the axe, "ha I'll try." She said bye to them and left. Penelope came in a few times over the week. Pablo tended to make himself scarce because he 100% noticed Penelope and Rafael were crushing on each other. Rafael noticed that each time Penelope came in she looked even more exhausted. He would never say anything about it other than the casual don't work too hard when in reality he wanted to force her to rest with a blanket and tea

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

"We should start back. They’re all dead."

“Looks like it,” Pyro said.  But he sent one more jet of flame scouring across the charred bodies piled in front of him, just in case.

Fucking Brood.  It was nice to be fighting something so far removed from human that even the holier-than-thou X-Men had given him and Shaw blanket permission to pull no punches.  Sometimes he just wanted to torch things without tip-toeing around Krakoan law, or even his own budding conscience.  But damn if the creatures didn’t make his skin crawl. 

The way they could just burrow deep down inside you, and you’d never know until they tore your body apart from within, and there was fuck all anyone could do about it.  He shuddered. 

“Actually, Allerdyce, I….may have….spoken prematurely…..”  There was a definite strain in Shaw’s voice, and Pyro whirled around, to find that the large man had fallen to his knees, one hand clasped over his stomach.  The flesh underneath Sebastian’s fingers writhed in a way that made Pyro want to vomit.

“Much as I hate to say so, it appears that….I am in need….of your unique brand of violence.”  Shaw’s face had gone milk-white, and he spoke through gritted teeth.  “How hot can you make fire?”

“Hot enough to melt most metal.  Stone, even.” 

“Make it….hotter than that.  Understand?  I want you…..to strain yourself to the absolute limit…..You must….burn this creature…out of me.  I trust that there will be no…..squeamishness or….misguided mercy on your part.”

“You trust right,” Pyro said, raising the flamethrower.

“Be….thorough, Allerdyce.  And if….it doesn’t work….I believe you can make those flames of yours….solid.  A spear of flame….directly through the eye socket…..into my brain.  That will do it.  Put me down before you…..let that creature….take me.”  Sebastian doubled over, his face frozen in agony. 

“No worries there.”  Pyro gave a grim smile.  “I’ll see you right, one way or another.” 

And then he let loose.  It was almost like the “good old days” with the Brotherhood, trying to see if he could melt Colossus just for the challenge of it, before everything had gone to shit for their team and he had wasted away in a fog of sickness and confusion and regret. 

The good old days, when he could cheerfully commit murder without thinking about it too much.

Sebastian was a shadow under the lovely, orange-gold flame that blazed hotter and hotter, turning blue and white as Pyro gritted his teeth in concentration.  The sand under Shaw’s knees bubbled, and the one tree in Pyro’s field of vision, several yards away, burst into flame.  Fine, more fuel to pull from.  He swept the extra fire towards Sebastian’s vague shape, and made it hotter, hotter, and hotter still. 

There was a sound over the roaring of the flames, like a high, keening wail, that prickled up and down Pyro’s spine.  He saw Sebastian lurch forward, and then another shape emerging.  Pyro could barely see, but he could have sworn that something black and misshapen was scrambling out of Sebastian’s mouth.

The black, misshapen thing then jumped away, completely seperated from Shaw, but it didn’t get far, on account of also being on fire.  It thrashed in the sand, still keening, as it’s limbs crumbled to ash, then finally lay still. 

Pyro let go of the fire, and it guttered out as his head began to throb.  This kind of strain, he’d have an intense migraine for the rest of the day.  Shaw still looked worse, with his clothing and hair burned entirely away, and his body caked in ash.  Yet somehow, the man stirred, and staggered to his feet. 

“…t …ck” Shaw muttered. 

“What?”  Pyro asked.

And then Sebastian swung his fist down at the burned creature in the sand, and there was a crack like thunder, and when Pyro was able to think again he realized he was sprawled in the sand several feet away, now sore over his entire body, and the migraine still gaining ground.

“The fuck was that?!”  Pyro demanded.

“All that thermal energy had to go somewhere,” Sebastian said.  Even scorched bald, with his sideburn-less face oddly bare, and not a stitch of clothing on, Shaw still managed a haughty expression.  “I told you to get back.”         

“You’re bloody welcome,” Pyro said snidely. 

“Ah yes……I suppose gratitude is in order.”

“Not holding my breath on that.”

“The fact is, Allerdyce, I am a man who pays my debts.  And I would greatly prefer not to owe you a favor.  So as soon as we return to Krakoa, I’ll write you a check for a reasonable amount.”

Pyro considered this.  “I prefer cash.”

“You’d ask ask for stock options if you had any sense, but very well.  As much cash as you can carry.” 

After another moment’s consideration, Pyro realized how easily this particular wording could screw him over.  “And that had better be all in large bills!”

The negotiations continued as they staggered back towards the gate together.  Behind them, the molten sand where Sebastian had knelt cooled into glass.