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#I LIKE THE COLORING BUT THE SHARPENING GIVES ME A HEADACHE
cry4mina · 7 days
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Take Me Back To Eden - Granite (Part 2)
(Nayeon x fem!reader)
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Take Me Back To Eden - Choke Hold - Part 1
Word Count: 5k Angst/more angst/attempted fluff met with....angst Summary: Reader is struggling with the emotions that come with uncovering some uncomfortable truths about their relationship with Nayeon.
Tw: Mentions of drinking, reader has unhealthy coping mechanisms, reader is a little stuck in their head (very stuck in their head), spiraling, nausea, cursing, flash backs, food, cheating, panic attacks, crying, Dahmo is present again, a quick mention of Chaeyoung, doggos (the 10th member of twice and his brother make an appearance) If I missed anything pls let me know!
A/N: Thank you for all the support on Part 1 of this fic! If you haven't read that yet, it is linked above for context. There will be a Part 3 in the works, shortly! Thanks to @saiiidahyunee for always listening to me ramble as I organize my thoughts and coming through with the suggestions<3 Reminder: My asks/requests and DMs are always open!
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You wake up to the smell of bacon. You reach to your right, but your hand lands on cool slick wood instead of your soft sheets. You get immediately upset that Nayeon isn't next to you.
When you open your eyes you’re met with an immediate headache and the realization that you aren’t in your own bed. Your vision is blurred much like the last 12 hours. Colors and shapes that aren’t distinct but there’s a familiarity in the patterns seen by your hungover eyes.
You usually wake to the sweet sound of her humming in the kitchen to herself. Your chest hollows remembering the previous morning.
Her showering you with affection from the minute you opened your eyes, her switching coffees with you so you could have the perfect cup, the giggles and glances while bathing together…your heart was dissociating down the path of you and Nayeon.
You shake those thoughts out of your brain, causing the dull ache behind your eyes to sharpen into a seering burn between your temples.
You blink rapidly to clear the haze and let out a groan at how bright the sun is beaming through the large windows in front of you. You recognize the living room from the neutral tones of the furniture, the Twice posters framed in black hung perfectly, the fireplace roaring to beat out the chilly air, and the hints of light pink everywhere.
You don’t even need to see the dog toys scattered throughout the room- , you’re in Momo’s living room.
The uncomfortable couch you had fallen asleep on was good for sitting and not for sleeping. You shift trying to sink a little deeper between the blanket someone placed on you and the firm cushion below you but the scream of your lower back was enough to keep you placed right where you were.
The sizzle of the bacon you just smelled and the clicking of nails on hardwood floors are now present throughout the house. You hear Boo barking for a piece of bacon followed by a loud “Shh!” Followed by a hushed ”Y/n is still sleeping…we’ve got to let her rest- Boo! You better share with Dobby!” You give a soft smile and yell “Don’t worry, I’m awake!”
You reach for your phone on the coffee table next to you and attempt to open your phone but your screen refuses to flicker on. “Great” You clammer to yourself tossing back on the table as you hear Momo greeting Dahyun in the kitchen.
“Good Morning, my love” the sound of a quick peck and a sigh; you feel the knot in your chest and the lump in your throat grow. You hear the way love is laced within the words Momo speaks when addressing Dahyun. It makes your skin burn with dread.
A deep ache that could only be filled by who you thought Nayeon was. Who she might have never been. The hushed conversation over the sounds of breakfast being made continues as you spiral.
Endless thoughts running through your brain as you try to file them away in their proper place. An attempt to process the feeling of betrayal. You can’t believe you’re even thinking about her doing such a thing.
“Nayeon? Cheating? She couldn’t…could she?” The woman who would threaten the Sun if it burnt you, the same woman who was so gentle with you, always making sure you felt safe and loved. You felt like acid was eating away at your frontal lobe while the knife twists against the memories flooding back to you as your brain tries to talk you out of accepting what you’ve seen in her wallet. Dehydrated, Hungover, Heart broken. A triple threat.
While you try to derail the train of thought that was plaguing your mind, you recognize the sound of nails and the shifting of floor boards as someone walks over to you through the hallway. The dogs follow and run ahead to jump on the couch and greet you. You laugh as they try to lick your face giving them equal attention without rising from your position.
“Good Morning, Y/n-nie,'' You avert your eyes slightly from the dogs to see Dahyun smiling down at you on the couch with a bottle of water raised up by her face. She gave a little shimmy and posed with the bottle to try to get you to smile.
“Good Morning, Dahyun” The dogs jump down when they hear the sound of Momo placing food in their bowl, scurrying off to their respective spots for breakfast.
You try to sit up as Dahyun holds her hand out with some medication waiting for you to pop them in your mouth before handing you the bottle.
“You are a saint,” you say while opening the water bottle. You chug half the bottle before coming up for air. Gasping at how great the cool liquid feels going down your throat.
She sits down next to you waiting for you to say anything. She doesn’t want to push you into more discomfort than you are already experiencing.
Your eyes scan the coffee table to see an empty tequila bottle, your dead phone, and 3 empty glasses. You sigh. You weren’t much of a drinker to begin with but you needed something to numb you.
The problem with that, is that now you weren’t numb. Your arms felt heavy at the weight of the emotions you are carrying. You feel as though the couch you are sitting on is swallowing you as you sink slowly into the void of absolute devastation.
Your jaw tenses as your eyes start to water. Remembering the way her voice shook when she told you it wasn’t what you thought it was. It echoed in your head, reverberating against your hangover and swollen eyes.
“Has she ever lied to you before? How long has it been going on? Did...did she really let someone else touch her?” You felt filthy and in need of a shower.
Staring boldly into the fire as you navigate your deep dejection, you watch memory after memory rush into your mind’s eye. Earlier attempts to fend these off failed.
A gray washed melancholy glazed over your facial expressions contouring your usually cheery demeanor into a desolate haze.
Dahyun watched all your emotions play out on your face.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she quietly inquired, shaking you out of the hopeless spiral.
“I don’t even know what to say. I have so many questions but Nayeon”
You flinch at the name as if someone just poked your tender heart with a sharp sewing needle… “ and this “J” person, only have the answers.”
Another wave of gray as you realize what you’ve just said. Hearing it in your own voice allowed the pieces to settle one by one. Pulling heart strings from the knot that was created over a flimsy piece of paper.
A single tear falls from your eye as Momo saunters in with 3 plates of food, handing you and Dahyun one before sitting down on the other couch, opposite you and her girlfriend.
“Thank you.” You can hear the cool slated tone of your voice as you try to hide the emotional turmoil you were drowning in.
“Thank you for letting me stay here and for being there for me. I’m really happy to have friends like you.”
They both smile empathetically with their mouths full as you take a bite of the salty strip of bacon.
With breakfast finished, Dahyun and Momo started to pack. Twice would be heading to Japan that afternoon for their schedules and wouldn’t be back until the middle of the following week.
You sit at the foot of their bed and help them decide which outfits to bring. Catching and folding the clothes that were thrown at you and tucking them neatly into the suitcases.
You lightly sigh, trying to not bring attention to yourself as you reminisce in silence about the last vacation you took with Nayeon. Giving almost the same routine you were experiencing with Momo in the moment.
The chaos that was Nayeon packing was one of the most unorganized things you’ve ever experienced. The first time you watched her try to get everything together for a trip you had to stop her 5 minutes in as she was sitting on a suitcase of shoes trying to close it enough to get the zipper to budge.
She hated packing and would just throw the jumbled mess of clothes into a case and call it good.
When you started living together, all of that changed. You would sit down on your bed and watch her showcase outfit after outfit to decide what to wear. You loved being able to help her decide between the colors and fabrics because it meant spending time with her.
She seemed to hate packing less too. You wonder how she’s fending trying to do it by herself as you redirect your attention to Momo.
“Y/n, I know you know you’re more than welcome to stay here while we are gone,” Momo says, pulling a black sweater vest with a turtleneck off the hanger and tossing it to you.
“I know you’ll probably go back to the apartment but I want you to know you don’t have to stay there if you don’t want to. Our guest bedroom is always open to you…or you can sleep on the couch again, if you prefer.”
You all share a laugh while you neatly fold the garment and place it on top of the already organized stack in the massive suitcase
“I think I'll pass on the couch, but I might take you up on the offer for the guest bedroom depending on how everything feels at the apartment.”
Momo nods her head, “You know where the spare key is, if you need it.”
Rain slicked streets and the sounds of cars passing is what fills your drive home. You’re fixating on the sound of rain tapping the windshield and the slosh of the tires in the puddles splayed out over the roads.
You are anxious heading back to the apartment. Muscles tensing throughout your body as you get closer and closer to your shared home with Nayeon.
You are hoping she’s already left for the airport so you don’t have to have the uncomfortable conversation just yet. You’d rather wait until you’ve fully processed what’s happened and gather your thoughts.
You do want to hear what she has to say but you need to be calm in order to react in a way that is best for you and your needs, just in case you have to only rely on yourself again.
You stop at a red light, patiently waiting for the bright green to flash again as if it carries you home. The drive isn’t a long one but knowing what’s waiting is what’s creating the time between houses. You look down at your hands and fidget with the dry skin, something Nayeon would light swat at your digits for doing.
If she saw you anxiously tapping your leg, touching your hair, or scratching at the sides of your fingers she would scoot closer to you, placing her hand on your thigh. Tracing small hearts, your initials and her initials, among other patterns, to get you to fixate on something else.
Self soothing now feels like a chore, you want to allow your spiral to run its course, sucking you into the disheveled thoughts occupying your headspace and filling your lungs with sharp cries.
The bright green of the traffic light reminds you you’re driving as you push the clutch in with your left foot, lifting your right off the break and accelerating with the gas. Clutch in again, shift to second, the balancing act of a stick shift car was almost too much today.
You had too many thoughts and wished you didn’t have to pay attention so much. Though it was probably for the better as safety is allegedly important.
You roll your eyes as traffic stops you from proceeding. You just want to go to a familiar place and sit still with yourself and these cars are blocking up the roads.
You can see the entrance of the front office to the building being crowded by people with cameras. The car in front of you being halted by a security guard so the people congesting the roads don’t get hit.
You quickly realize what’s happening and start staring at the grooves of the woven leather on your steering wheel. Fiddling with them to try to distract yourself from all the commotion outside of your vehicle. You hear the camera’s clicking and can see the flashes in your peripherals.
You glance up momentarily to get a view of Nayeon from your car window. The tints aren’t dark enough to shield you from her but the camera flashes might blind her enough to not see you.
She’s wearing a loose wrinkly sweater that belonged to you, sweatpants, white sneakers and a pair of dark black sunglasses. Her makeup doesn’t appear to be done and her hair is tucked into a messy bun. Your heart melts at the sight of her.
You feel a tear trickling down your cheek. You want nothing more than to embrace her. To feel her on your skin again, to feel the safety of your partner.
You remember the note, the singular letter repeating in your head, remember what brought you to this emotional state in the first place. You don’t allow the visual of her to comfort you, not for this.
She’s waving to the cameras and doing hand hearts while walking towards the black SUV that’s there to take her to the airport when she sees your car. You watch the revelation click in her head and she immediately stops walking and looks through the crowd to see you.
Mouth ajar and sadness creeping into her skin. You make eye contact for what feels like hours before she composes herself, cameras still blindingly flashing as she gets into the SUV.
You hear the door close and see the window in the back seat roll down, opposite of the crowd. The bigger car pulls out of the entrance to the complex and right up next to you.
You feel your heart start to beat at an alarming pace as she sticks her head out of the window after removing her sunglasses. Her eyes are red and swollen with bags under them. She definitely didn’t sleep.
You realize that she’s motioning for you to roll your window down. You comply quickly, knowing that it’ll be brief.
Barely louder than a whisper “Hey…Is your phone dead?”
You nod your head slightly, having trouble making eye contact with her. A beat of silence drums between the two of you as you awkwardly shift in your seat. The stiffness of your lower back proceeding to yell at you again from a combination of sleeping on the couch and the stress you were under.
She chooses to break the silence with exactly what you expected. “Can we talk when I get back?”. You can hear the glint of hope in her voice.
You hadn’t blocked her, you rolled your window down, and you haven’t pulled off yet (not that you could with traffic) so you’re still present in some sense.
You nod your head again, agreeing to the hard conversation. She smiles softly at you, cheeks rising up as she goes to speak again when you hear the driver husk “Miss Im, I’m sorry to interrupt but you do have a plane to catch.”
She nods her head at the driver then brings her attention back to you.
“I left you something on the counter and there’s dinner in the fridge for you…I didn’t know if you’d be home and wanted to make sure you remembered to eat... I love you, y/n” as the SUV slowly starts to drive, picking up its pace quickly as it continues down the street.
Once the crowd dissipates and the smoke clears, you pull into your designated parking spot with haste. Quickly pulling the E brake and putting the car in neutral so you can take in what just happened. Not many words were shared, but you felt every single one of them echoing in your mind.
You grab your keys as you replay the “I left you something on the counter and there’s dinner in the fridge for you. I love you, y/n” in your head over and over again as you make your way up the elevator.
Walking up to the door, you hesitate to open it. The thick dark wood is intimidating as it glares down at you belittling your right to walk through it. Shiny golden numbers reflect the bright lights back at you as you reach for your keys hanging from your hip.
Your skin prickles as you register that she won’t be on the other side of that waiting to hug you after a long day. The usual routine that happens when arriving home isn’t the same.
You brace yourself, slide the key into the lock and turn. Hearing the mechanism click as the cog turning inside. You turn the knob in tandem to reveal your kitchen.
Closing the door and locking it behind you, you absorb the atmosphere around you. The lighting is dark due to the overcast sky. The silence is loud as the room breathes around you. Your eyes pan over the room to find a bouquet of roses in a crystal vase on the counter.
You bought that vase to fill with flowers for her, now she was returning the favor. You take in the way the crystal shimmers with little to no light and the refractions of red coming off the sparkling corners that were etched into the filigree carved into its surface.
Flicking the lights on to reveal the spotless granite countertops, you realize that someone might have been stress cleaning. You remove your jacket and hang it on the rack on the back of the door hesitant to take your shoes off.
Your eyes hit the ground when you realize that the once sanctuary doesn’t feel nearly as safe. You push through the feeling, and put your shoes in their normal spot next to the door.
You glide through the kitchen with an attempted ease as you search for the comfort you once had, plugging your phone into the charger on the counter.
The soft smell of roses permitting the room. You look at them and notice an envelope with your initials and a heart scrawled on it in bright red ink next to the vase.
Picking up the envelope, you stare at it tracing the edges of the thick paper with your fingers. Would she write the answers to your questions here? Or would she wait until you asked? There’s only one way to find out, and you were sure you were too sober to pull the trigger.
Going into the cabinet, you pull out a wine glass and immediately turn for the fridge. Searching the shelves for the bottle that was already open. You pull the container of food out that Nayeon made for you, immediately getting nauseous at the idea of eating and you place it back on the shelf.
You realize that the bottle is missing. She had done exactly what you did the night before. Drank the pain away. You bite the inside of your cheek knowing you and her both were going through discomfort. You grab the unopened bottle of white win out of the door, closing it firmly behind you.
You pour yourself a glass and chug it. You begin to pour another while making a face as you swallow the bittersweet liquid. You walk over to the trash can to throw the foil from uncorking it out, still feeling guilty about not being able to comfort Nayeon. You toss the small frail metal into the can when something familiar catches your eye.
The tattered paper from her wallet lay on top of the empty bottle you were searching for moments ago. The letter ripped in half, one side of it facing you- the signature present in black ink.
Your anger grows when you see it. Remembering that she could have actually betrayed you and here you are being upset that you weren’t there to comfort her? Yeah, okay Y/n.
Your eyes flicker back to the envelope she left for you.
“Nope.” You say out loud. Your phone starts vibrating endlessly so you run over and turn it on silent knowing the amount of notifications you were about to receive.
You grab both the bottle and the glass of wine and head for the couch to get drunk and watch your favorite comfort movie.
The first night back, you decided to sleep on the couch and you stayed there for another 2 full days. Only moving to go to the bathroom and get some water. You just allowed your body to rest and recover.
The bed seemed tainted and would probably smell like her, you didn’t want your body to relax into the false sense of safety it had been used to.
You didn’t answer your phone or even look at the notifications. Pretending it did exist and basking in the solitude. By day three you realized people might start to worry about you if you didn’t reply to them. You usually reply pretty quickly so it would be off if you didn’t say something to them.
You filtered through your notifications, answering everyone but Nayeon. Momo had checked in with you and called you a few times leaving voicemails that got more threatening since you weren’t replying. You immediately called her back to let her know you were breathing.
“Thank god you’re okay. I was going to head to your house straight from the airport if I didn't hear from you before we got back!”
“That’s very sweet of you Momo-ssi. I’m doing alright just trying to take it day by day…or minute by minute, rather.”
“I understand. Have you talked to her yet?”
You hesitate to reply. Knowing that you’re avoiding communication with her in fear of what the truth could be. Momo notices this almost immediately and nods her head as if you can see her.
“I take that as a no, then?”
“Yeah…I just- I don’t know, I’m scared of what happens next.”
Momo sighed empathetically.
“Sometimes you just have to take the next step, no matter what it brings.”
You knew she was right so you tried to deflect.
“How is she?” your mouth utters before your brain could catch up.
“She seems off. You can tell she’s doing her best to try to keep it together. Less bubbly. Chaeyoung mentioned your name and she immediately went pale and changed the subject.”
You press your lips together. The back and forth of feeling guilty for not being there for Nayeon and feeling sorry for yourself was getting old and you were exhausted from the strain you've been putting on your nervous system.
“Momo, can I let you go? I guess I have to read these text messages.” you begrudgingly say.
“Yeah, good luck! Call me back if you need to talk about anything okay?” You say your goodbyes and hang up.
No longer ignoring the task at hand, you open your text messages to read the days worth of messages. At first they’re all panicky. A lot of begging for you to answer the phone, a lot them just simply saying your name.
They soon delve into “I miss you”, “I love you”, “Please come home” and “You mean everything to me” texts. A few of them were unintelligible, definitely sent after the wine she consumed.
You see some from the day she left for Japan, asking how the dinner was and if you read the note. A few more I love yous sent throughout the last few days.
You place your phone on the table and run your hands over your face, keeping your fingers over your mouth. You open your voicemails, put your phone on speaker and start to go through the ones from Nayeon. They’re all really hard to listen to. The first few especially.
“Y/n, please answer the phone. We can work through this. It’s not as bad as it seems, I swear. You are the only person I want to be with. Please call me back.” She sobs into the microphone.
Your heart cracks at the shakiness of her voice and the sadness dripping through your phones speaker.
Through the voicemails you can start to hear her words slur. The memory of how you were accepted by her members floods back into your brain again.
However, this time the joy is absent from the flashes of love. Only sorrow sits. The last voicemail she left you was from the morning of the day you came home. More of the same contents, but with sniffles instead of sobs.
You sit for a second to collect yourself. The envelope on the table, patiently waiting for you to rip open it’s seal and explore the contents.
You take a deep breath, picking it up. You slowly run your thumb between where the paper is stuck together, being sure not to damage anything inside. A pink slip of paper is neatly folded inside. You discard the envelope on the table and unfold the bright page and start reading.
“My Love,
I need you to know that you are so important to me. You are my safety. My guiding light. I’ve never felt as loved as I do when I’m with you. Please know that I am sorry for everything and I will explain when I get back. I hope you’re still home when I return.
With all the Love,
Nayeon”
Your heart sinks. What do you mean you’re sorry for everything? What is everything? More questions and no answers.
You pick up your phone and call Momo again to vent about the apology you just received because all of the context is missing. The phone rang once, twice, and the third ring was interrupted with a familiar voice.
“Hi Baby,” You freeze, unsure of where to go from here. You decide to use the emotions you’ve been hiding as courage and ask the questions you’ve been holding onto for the last week.
“How long?” You ask sternly. Silence fills the other side of the phone as you wait patiently for the answer.
“Do you really want to do this right now? Can’t we wait until I get home so we can talk in person?
“No, we are going to do this on my terms. How long?”
Nayeon sighed as you heard a door close through the phone as she separated herself from the rest of Twice.
“...it only happened once…a few years ago…it was a few weeks after you asked me on our first date.” You flinch when her voice cracks. Tears silently spill down your face.
Focusing heavily on the admission of betrayal being told to you. “It hasn’t happened since. I messed up and I realized that. Please know I wouldn’t ever ever do something like that again.”
Your heart is racing, you are feeling your cyclical emotions take control again. Anger, nausea, fear and betrayal dance around your chest as the words spill out of your girlfriend's mouth.
“Why was the note in your wallet?”
“I just switched wallets, it was in the black one I was using last week and I just didn’t throw it away.”
“Nayeon, Who is J?”
A long pause as you wait for her to say the name of the person who helped defile your relationship. She sighs heavily, you can hear her shaking.
“Can we please just talk in person tomorrow when I get back?” she pleads.
“If you’re not going to tell me, I’ll hang up. I don’t need anything else from you besides that information.” Your voice is icy as the shards fly out to hit Nayeon’s chest. This is agonizing for both of you and you aren’t going to wait around for her to decide it’s time. You were the one who got cheated on, not her. You would never do that to her so she is not going to be extended any grace.
“Y/n…” You stay silent waiting for an answer that she is refusing to give.
“I’ll see you around, Nayeon.” You say as you move the phone away from your ear to end the call. You faintly hear her protesting but you hang up without fully hearing what she was trying to say.
You slam your phone down on the coffee table when you feel the adrenaline release, chilling your veins down while your breathing starts to shallow and quicken. You switch your breathing into manual as you try to stop the panic attack before it gets worse.
Long deep breaths only get you so far. Your hands and lips start to tremble as your chest tightens. You feel like you need to stand up and run out of the building but are too light headed from the hyperventilating. You are sure you’d just fall over if you even try to stand.
You catch a glimpse of your phone lighting up from a text message. You life your phone and read who it’s from.
-Momo: I’m sorry, I didn’t see that she grabbed my phone when you called. Are you okay?”
-Momo: Nayeon just walked back into the room crying...
You start to type a response through trembling fingers when another message banner drops down, catching your attention. It’s Nayeon. You read the text to yourself, mouth gaping when you realize this is the information you had asked her for on the phone.
“Oh, You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Take Me Back to Eden - Aqua Regia - Part 3
81 notes · View notes
sevicia · 3 months
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you WILL perceive my OC process / thoughts / ETC . had an idea for a game the other day while in the shower (they weren't kidding that shower can think) . two main characters they are sisters , you start playing as the older one ETC , and the idea is that she is withdrawn , nervous , responsible and insecure about where she is in life (she is about to start college this is important to the plot but not for what I'm talking about rn) . first instinct was to give her short spiky black hair
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first thing I drew (did a couple alt hairs tho) but I felt like the expression did not match what I was going for at all (she is the type to try her best to look calm and reliable) , and neither did the clothes which I drew with the beauty of the opossum in mind . very prevalent today for no reason still a wonderful animal . I did like the hair though and I wasn't ready to give up on the opossum vibe (lol) , so I decided to do a paper doll type thing and start drawing by clothing layer so I could go slowly and think about what she'd be wearing
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did not have the willpower to try & make the hair look the same in the paper doll version , didn't wanna overthink her expression either so I really ended up with a completely different character . . . who I really like !!
I have always wanted to do a story set in a cold climate , really had an idea for a different character back in high school (blonde, earmuffs, cheeks are always pink), but gave up on her when I just couldn't figure out what I wanted her to look like . . .
I got the idea for this character to be either in the 3rd or 4th year of high school , she's pretty much an outcast out of habit at this point , enjoys taking walks and being in places she has no business being in . I thought of her being talked to by a teacher (librarian?) on the subject of not just her grades but mostly her behavior at school, gives me the chance of saying if there is something bothering her and affecting her behavior then there is something she needs to get over but I really dunno how to write (think) about something like that ;_;
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^ her & her bag . . . NOTHING IS TO SCALE !!!!!!! she has:
- notebook: ripped the used pages from a previous notebook and just kept the empty ones, the thing is beat up to the point the spiral's coming off and the corner of the cover is peeling off ... the cover design is a cloud castle with rainbows , a bundle was on sale and while she doesn't really like it , she doesn't particularly dislike it either .
- pencil case: heart-themed , the fabric is starting to fray after years of use . in it she has: a highlighter, a ballpoint pen, a regular pencil (chewed up), a tiny colored pencil, a container + sharpener combo, and three erasers: one of them is just a formless little thing, the other is a brand new one that she doesn't really wanna use because it's brand new, and the last is one of those useless decorative ones, shaped like a flower. no white-out because she is very very brave .
- water bottle: literally just a plastic bottle she bought a while ago & keeps washing & reusing . getting more & more crumpled up by the SECOND . . .
- strip of paracematol: self explanatory . doesn't get headaches TOO often, just often enough to justify carrying a strip of it around lol
- juice box + tupperware: her mom cuts apples for her and always gets her apple juice cause apples were her favorite fruit growing up ... she really prefers oranges now but doesn't have the heart to tell her . tupperware also has soda crackers . must be mentioned that this is NOT her lunch, just a snack. she gets free lunch at the school cafeteria ! only tasty less than half the time tho ....
- library card: she uses it a lot and has been doing so for a very long time . usually reads non-fiction about unexplained events (she likes ones involving forests the most), but is starting to enjoy horror & sci-fi a bit more lately
- Frankenstein (borrowed from the library): her current read, which she is really enjoying , though she's not sure if she is really getting the "message" of it . happens a lot with fiction books, which is why she doesn't read a lot of them
- flashlight: permanently borrowed from her dad (he insists he's gonna ask for it back eventually so she needs to take good care of it), she uses it for exploring. it gets dark pretty early and the library closes pretty late, so she just goes wherever she wants while her parents think she's at the library . they believe her because she does spend a lot of time there and she keeps feeling guiltier and guiltier ...
- opossum plushie: pretty much her best friend, she carries him everywhere . very soft fur , nice and squeezable too !!
OK ramble over for neow maybe . . .
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MILA
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clockworkcrane · 5 months
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Haurchefant Week 2023 - Day Six
Day Six: Painful 1116 Words. Rated G. Another Haurchefant-centric piece with nary a ship on the horizon.
Haurchefant does not remember being carried back to the garrison.  His fellow knights must have hauled him to Dragonhead unconscious, for he wakes in the infirmary with a splitting headache, an overwhelming pain in his ribs, and scarcely a recollection of how he came to be there.
His throat is rough as a sharpening stone when he swallows, and he can taste the faint tang of blood at the back of his mouth. He makes to sit up, but an assertive hand on his shoulder forces him back to his cot. Prone, he blinks up at the young woman leaning over him, dressed in the colors of House Fortemps. A healer, judging by her clothing and bearing.
A rather lovely one too, which is a shame, because she quickly dips away. A different shadow falls over him, and Haurchefant finds himself face to face with his commanding officer, whose demeanor is far less hospitable. The older Elezen narrows his eyes, radiating concern and disapproval in equal measure, as is his custom.
“So, you yet live,” he growls at Haurchefant, looming. “Tell me, do you recall what transpired at the cliffs?”
Haurchefant wets his lips, feeling as though he could drain a river and not be satisfied, but no offer of a drink seems forthcoming. He had better get to talking. While he cannot say how he came to be back here, in Camp Dragonhead, he does recall the events which resulted in his cracked ribs and the map of tender bruises now spanning the length of his back.
“Yes, sir. We were patrolling along our usual route. Near the ruins to the north, we were waylaid. Set upon by a lesser wyrm,” he explains, making another attempt to sit up.
The effort sends the blood rushing to his head, where it begins to pound. A small groan escapes his lips, and Haurchefant falls back into his cot, squeezing his eyes shut. This does little to evoke pity in his commander, who merely clears his throat to signal his impatience.
“And then?”
“We were holding it at bay, but…” Haurchefant trails off yet again.
The truth of the matter is that one of the newest members of their order broke formation and was cornered by the beast. Naming him will doubtless invite the commander’s wrath down upon him, however, and Haurchefant can see no reason to do so.
“It was clever,” he dodges, “It attempted to break through our ranks, charging one of the recruits…”
His commander quirks a brow, but asks for no names. “And how is it that you came to be unconscious in the infirmary, and not this recruit?”
“Perhaps somewhat hastily,” Haurchefant admits, laying a hand on his ribs, where the pain is sorest. “I intervened.”
“Lest your memory fail you at this juncture,” the commander tells him. “I have been informed that you were then nearly roasted alive and flung from a cliff.”
Haurchefant grimaces. That part is hazy, but it does explain the bruising. And the pink, tender patches of skin on his forearms, where it seems his bracers have left something like a brand after absorbing the raw heat of dragon flame.
His commander sighs heavily. “So then. What is the lesson?”
This is a favorite question of his. Anytime one of the knights commits an error, they can expect to hear it. And it is effective, for the most part, to be made to explain what they have learned from the consequences of their mistakes. Even if it is somewhat humiliating, it solidifies the experience.
Haurchefant knows what answer he is meant to give. He was reckless. He remembers rushing forward, intent on putting himself betwixt dragon and recruit as a buffer, a shield. It did not seem a conscious decision at the time. It was only the right thing to do.
Acting on impulse, however, is not befitting. Not of a seasoned knight of House Fortemps.
He also knows what his commander will say, should he admit that his recklessness is a failing. He has built up a reputation for being somewhat foolhardy, through similarly short-sighted behavior, and he has heard it before: It could be dangerous. He could get hurt. Even so, Haurchefant cannot bring himself to think of his inclination to protect others as one of his faults. It seems to be in his blood, in his very marrow. 
He can remember a time before he’d taken on the colors, when he nearly got a knife between the ribs protecting his friend Francel from a pack of bandits. And well before that, the countless occasions on which he took a blow on Emmanellain’s behalf, in one of the many scuffles between himself and his half-brothers that he would sooner forget.
No amount of bloodied knuckles or bruised skin or broken bones seems capable of driving this instinct out of him. The promise of pain has never done much to dissuade him from doing what is right, for he can ultimately bear it. And even now, though his ribs hurt so acutely that the smallest effort reduces him to trembling, he cannot say he should have done anything differently. 
Pain is fleeting. The shame of not having acted when one’s actions could turn the tide, or protect a friend? Intolerable. For what use is his shield if he only ever cowers behind it?
And therein, he finds his answer.
“My shield,” he says, a sense of defiance settling over him. “I should have tilted it downward.”
His commander’s brow furrows. “I do not follow.”
“When I interjected myself between the wyrm and my fellow knight,” Haurchefant elaborates. “I should have tilted my shield downward, so that the dragon’s flames were better diverted and did not break my sightlines. Then I could have anticipated the blow which struck me from the cliff, and avoided it. That was my error. Sir.”
His pulse is rushing in his own ears, but Haurchefant keeps his chin high, all the same. He turns his head, examining the look on his commander’s face. There is exasperation, yes, but also the smallest hint of pride. He did not come into his command without being able to recognize a losing battle when he sees one. Or a worthy opponent. After a pause, he smiles.
“Aye, that will serve. For a start,” he says. “Now get some rest. You’re to be back at your patrol come morning. I expect you’ll be missed otherwise.”
Victory. Risk, and reward. Haurchefant relaxes by a fraction, returning the commander’s smile with a grin of his own. Suddenly the twinge of discomfort in his ribs and the ache in his back do not seem quite as painful as before. They can be borne.
“Yes, sir.”
13 notes · View notes
junebuggeryy · 1 year
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absolutely in love with that mad hypnotist piece! how did you get the halftones to look so nice if you don't mind me asking?
thank you! it was a new technique, so i'm glad it worked out. i use photoshop, and i have no idea how viable this is for other programs?
this is some post-processing you'd want to do after you've pretty much finished up. in the photoshop toolbar, under filter, there is an option under "pixelate" called "color halftones"
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that usually gets me
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You Have De-Smoothed Your Boye
now, this is a bit much for me. you could probably get a more subtle halftones if you messed around with pixelate’s discreet settings, adjusted numbers and all that, but the strategy that gives me less of a headache is to duplicate my clean layer, apply halftones, and then turn the opacity down on the halftone layer.
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you can probably stop here! it looks pretty good! however, i find it makes my art look 👌 just that liiiitle bit more like a shitty scan if i flatten the layers, go back under filter, and make uses of photoshop’s sharpen options. this is just a subtle thing that makes it that bit crunchier.
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remember to save a smaller version of your image since introducing noise jacks up the file size in ways that make it a Big Chew to upload onto websites, and viola.
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Enjoy Your Newly Textured Boye
28 notes · View notes
kaiteki-dons · 10 months
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Babiessss!!!
Story with it under the cut.
Wiz felt herself falling first, after her knees buckled. Strong arms caught her before she hit the ground and her head spun for a moment.
The last thing she heard before passing out was her best friends’ voice gently saying “I have you my friend.”
She awoke in the space with a start, then flinched as her body started aching something terrible. She closed her eyes, curling up on the ground and taking deep breaths as she waited for it to pass. Once it had, she didn’t feel too much better, having a headache and many bodily aches.
She sat up slowly, her torso swaying as she looked around the space. It seemed empty and quiet. She wasn’t sure what time of day it had been, just that apparently it was too early for anyone else to be in bed yet. 
She swallowed dryly, looking down at the floor and froze. Her hands looked… odd. The color of her skin was darker and her fingers looked longer than they had been before. Her nails were also longer, and looked sharper than usual. 
She stood slowly, supporting her trembling body on the wall as she trudged to the nearest bedroom where there was a floor-length mirror. She pressed her hands on either side of it and stared at herself in shock. 
She looked so… different.
Her whole body had been changed, still subtly her, but oh so unfamiliar. The only retention of her previous skin tone was in the stripes that went down her limbs, tail, and forehead. It ended at the start of her snout which was longer than before, with newly sharpened canines that poked her tongue uncomfortably. Her tail was no longer short and stubby, but reached her knees. She looked taller and her plastron scutes were overlaid rather than pieced together. Her shell was mostly the same, if not slightly larger due to her increased height. 
What terrified her more, tho, was just how thin she looked. Her shell almost looked too big for her, and she could see some of the bones in her arms and face.
She took a step back from the mirror, all the way to the door, and slid down it slowly. She put a hand on the back of her neck, sighing. 
The worst part, the true cream of the crop, was that she had no earthly idea what had happened.
~~~
Aggie stepped into the space, looking around to find it empty. There didn’t seem to be anyone there yet at first glance, but he found one of the bedroom doors closed. When he tried to go in, he found it locked. 
“Hello?” Aggie knocked on the door. “Anyone home?”
There was no answer, only a slight shuffling through the door. Aggie furrowed his brows. He didn’t have any way to tell who it was yet. He’d either have to coax them out or wait for the others to get there so he could use the power of elimination. 
“Are you okay?”
Nothing. Aggie sighed. “Come on, I can’t help if you don’t let me.”
After a few more tries and no results, he sat outside the door, looking into the living room for whoever would arrive next. 
Phet came first, giving him an odd look as he shrugged. The softshell quickly went about his business, grabbing Tiny when he arrived next to occupy another room. Bingo came after that, followed by his ghostly brother. Bingo trudged past looking more annoyed than usual, while Bluey stopped and waved to Aggie. Aggie waved back and gave him a small smile. 
“What's up Aggie? You look like you’ve got something on your mind.” Bluey hovered over, curious.
Aggie looked at the door. “Someone’s been locked in here since before I came, but I haven't figured out who yet, and they won’t say anything or let me in. I think something’s wrong.”
“Want me to take a look?” 
Aggie brightened. “Would you? Just be careful, I don’t think they’re up to talking.”
“I gotcha.” Bluey gave a thumbs up as he partially drifted through the wall. He peeked into the room to see someone curled up against the door, covered in a light purple hoodie, even their legs pulled up against their chest under it. 
Bluey moved around silently, looking as much as possible while staying out of sight. He noted the strange tail that wrapped around the hoodie, too long to be anyone he recognized. Thoroughly confused, Bluey pulled back, looking at Aggie. “Did we get a new arrival recently?”
Aggie furrowed his brows, whispering his answer. “I don’t think so, we haven’t had any new Donnie’s since Bingo, and the last companion that was new was Bitey.”
Aggie narrowed his eyes. “I don’t really think any of our images could be changed enough to make us unrecognizable. That’d take quite the feat.”
“Jeez. I can’t recognize whoever’s in there, either we have a newbie or something… something happened.” Bluey shrugged with a slight cringe at his own mental image.
Bluey’s expression went flat with one raised brow. “Remember last time?”
Aggie raised his own brows. “You mean that big monster? What about it?”
“I'm just saying it’s possible ok.”
Aggie looked at him, concerned, before looking at the wall, trying to mentally figure out what he meant by that. 
Bluey shook his head, already moving back through the wall. “Regardless, I'm gonna take another look.”
“Don’t spook them.” Aggie waved, getting up. “I’m going to see if anyone else has arrived.”
“Don’t worry Aggie.” Bluey reassured. “They probably can’t see me anyway.”
Bluey followed his previous pattern, floating just out of sight before deciding to risk it. He hovered in front of the new arrival with curiosity.
Their downcast reddish-brown eyes flicked up and locked onto him.
“Oh!” Bluey was taken by surprise and waved to the new face. “Hi, I didn’t-” Bluey cleared his throat before sticking a smile to his face. “I’m Bluey.”
Their face scrunched up, and a hand popped out of the collar of the hoodie, pulling the hood more over their face as they shook for a moment, letting out a few heavy breaths. “I know… I know who you are, Aciano.”
Bluey froze for a moment, his brain struggling to compute. “W-WIZ!?” 
She flinched, curling up tighter in the hoodie. 
“What happened!?” He rushed down to her side, trying his best to respect her space while searching for newer injuries. “Are you ok, are you hurt, what’s going on?”
“Haven’t the foggiest,” she shook her head. “I don’t remember anything.” she huffed, turning her gaze down. 
Bluey took in everything new, from her striped tail to her snout, to the reddish tint to her eyes. It reminded him of the painful transformation she endured in her last visit. A brief thought passed his mind, ‘could this all be lingering effects from that? Will she ever go back to what she was before?’ 
“Is… is touch ok?” Bluey opened his arms to her. “Do you want a hug?”
She looked at him with a frown. “I don’t think I have the energy for the spell at the moment, sorry.”
Bluey took in a breath and focused, bringing Wiz into a hug.
She stiffened, surprised for a moment, before relaxing into his hold, letting her legs out of the hoodie so she was more comfortable. 
Bluey moved to pull her closer, his hand brushing over her thinned arm. The alarm bells in his head were blaring as he pulled back to get another look at her. With a slight struggle he managed to push back her hoodie sleeve 
She pulled her arm back, yanking the sleeve back down. “What are ya doing?”
“Wiz have you been eating? You’re so thin!” Bluey’s mom modeᵗᵐ was going full force.
She drew her shoulders up, hugging herself. “I- I don’t know. I don’t remember. I was only awake for a moment before coming here, everything before that just isn’t there.” she shook her head. “I don’t know.”
Bluey was pretty sure he felt his heart break. “I’m sorry.” Bluey retracted his hands.
She looked at him for a moment, then at the ground for a moment, contemplating something. Then she reached up, grabbing the shoulders of the hoodie and slipping it off, setting it on the ground in front of her. She kept her eyes on the ground, not looking at him as he got a full view of her body.
Bluey felt his breath hitch as his eyes widened, seeing every old scar in new light. Her face was a tint darker, her cheeks flushed from what he assumed was embarrassment. “Hey,” Bluey leaned down to try and meet her gaze, offering a soft smile. “It’s gonna be ok.”
She gave him a skeptical look before leaning forward a bit, offering to touch their foreheads together. 
It took him a minute to be solid enough to oblige, and the warmth of her forehead took him by surprise. He almost lost his focus again, nearly phasing through her head. “Wiz are you sick?”
She glared at him. “Stop asking me questions I don't have the answers to.”
“Right, right. Sorry, I’m just worried for you.”
She nodded. “I don’t feel great, but I figure it has to do with whatever this is.” she motioned toward her tail. “Maybe Dad will make me some soup.”
“I’m sure he will if you ask, Bellflower.” Bluey hummed.
She nodded. Then she looked at the door for a moment. She shifted on her knees, and moved to unlock the door. Her arm trembled as she grabbed the handle, pulling it open before pulling herself up slowly.
Bluey stuck close, watching with concern. “Are you ok to walk Bell?”
She nodded stiffly as she held herself up on the doorframe, breathless. She had pulled the hoodie with her and managed to wiggle back into it. “I’m fine, just need to-” her knees buckled and she toppled to the ground once more. She managed to catch herself before she faceplanted, and supported herself with her arms, glaring at the ground. “Bloody hell, ya’d think this wouldn’t be that hard.”
“Yea, no. C’mere.” Bluey bent down to scoop her up in a bridal-style carry. “You are not walking.”
She squirmed for a moment, but ultimately surrendered, setting her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “This is humiliating.”
“It’s not the weirdest thing done here.” Bluey replied before he steadied himself, taking very controlled steps forward. With each step it became harder to keep a hold on wiz and not phase through her. Eventually he was stuck, unable to take another step without losing his hold on being solid.
“You okay?” she tightened her grip around his shoulders.
“Yep! Just kinda…” Bluey strained his voice as he tried not to lose his focus. “Stuck.” 
“Set me down.” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t drop me, please.”
“Not dropping you is specifically why I’m not moving.” Bluey gave her a look of his own.
She closed her eyes with a sigh. “Ya need dad?”
“… yes” Bluey looked rather embarrassed, despite not having the capacity to actually blush in any way. “Sorry about this. Hey Aggie!” 
Wiz took a small breath in, pulling her hood up quickly and hiding her face in Bluey’s collar as Aggie ran in. 
“What’s up? Did you-” Aggie looked at the ghost carrying someone and tilted his head. “What’s happening?”
“Long story.” Bluey rolled his eyes as he talked trying to seem as casual as he could. “I’m in a bit of a predicament. Can you call dad? Please?”
Aggie looked confused “uh, okay?” he ran back out, and several moments returned following Dad. 
Dad, needless to say, was also confused about the person floating in the middle of the living room. 
“I’m stuck.” Bluey chuckled awkwardly.
Aggie repeated it to dad, explaining that Bluey was there. After a short back and forth, Dad stepped around, gathering Wiz in his own arms and allowing Bluey to release her. Wiz shifted into the new hold, but remained silent and as hidden as possible.
Bluey released the tension in his arms when Wiz was lifted away. He nearly flopped onto the floor before he floated back up to Wiz’s level mouthing ‘I’m sorry’.
“So…” Aggie stuck by one of Dad’s shoulders, trying to get a better look at Wiz. “mind explaining a little more, Bluey?”
“Uh…” He looked to Wiz, unsure of what he could share. “It’s not really for me to tell.”
She tensed, curling up more and pointing at the couch. Dad looked at her neutrally, but followed the direction to settle her down in the cushions. He kneeled in front of her, keeping a hand on her shoulder as he turned to Aggie. “Aggs, could you go for a bit?”
“But how are you going to understand Bluey?”
“I’ll manage.” Aggie huffed, but obliged, exiting the room.
Dad turned back to Wiz, moving his hand to brush her cheek. “Hey Sweetpea. Are you feeling okay?”
Bluey did a double take, staring wide-eyed but unseen at dad. He knew.
Wiz looked at him, her mouth hanging open for a moment before she put a hand over it and looked at her lap, leaning into Dad’s hand. 
Bluey watched, his stomach swimming with guilt. He didn’t mean for dad to recognize her all because he couldn’t do the simple task of walking.
“Hey,” Dad got up on the couch beside Wiz. “talk to me, honey.”
“Sorry.” she mumbled. “I didn’t expect ya’d recognize me.” She wrapped her arms around herself defensively. 
Dad nodded, sympathetically. “Even if you look different, you’re still you. You have the same body language and build and look in your eyes.”
Another stab of guilt shot through his gut. Dad knew Wiz so well he recognized her so easily. Here he had tried to introduce himself as if she was a new arrival. 
“What happened?” Dad asked. 
Wiz shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Dad put an arm around her shoulders carefully, and after a second, put his hand to her head. “You have a fever. Are you feeling okay?”
Wiz shook her head.
“Want some soup?”
She nodded. 
He stood up, wrapping a blanket around her before stepping into the kitchen. 
Bluey watched Dad leave giving Wiz one more glance over before slowly drifting back to leave her be. 
“Bluey.” She got his attention. He froze in place, not daring to move. “Stay? Please?” she looked down. “I’m not used to this.” she motioned her head toward the kitchen. “I feel less awkward with you around, at least.”
Bluey nodded, moving quietly back into her line of sight. “I’ll stay as long as you need me too.” He spoke with a smile, despite not being able to meet her gaze.
She watched him for a moment, then patted the spot next to her to invite him over. “c’mere.”
Bluey complied, setting himself in the spot she had patted, watching the kitchen door for dad.
“What’s on your mind, Cornflower?” she asked slowly. 
“I… I feel bad. That I didn’t recognize you.” Bluey shrugged.
She was quiet for a moment, pulling her knees up to her chest. “I got here around noon, y’know.”
“That long?” Bluey’s head snapped back up to Wiz in surprise.
She nodded. “I’d just…” she shrugged “regained consciousness, i think? And I took two steps before I passed out.” she looked at her hands. “Everything hurt, I was terrified, and when I realized something was different I went to the bedroom to find a mirror.” She pressed her forehead to her knees. “I didn’t even recognize myself…” She glanced at him. “I’m not upset with you, just surprised with Dad.”
“I… still feel like I should’ve seen sooner.” Bluey looked wiz in the eyes with a small and soft smile and open arms. “But, I am here for you now.” 
She raised her brows at him. “You’ve got me?”
Bluey made a humorous huff. “Yes, I’ve got you.”  His smile widened, growing more earnest. “Always.”
She leaned into him, humming. “Always.”
There was an odd thumping behind them, and they turned to see that it was her new tail, hitting the cushion over and over. 
She pressed a hand to it, pinning it down. “That’s not going to be inconvenient at all.”
Bluey chuckled, his own tiny tail moving a mile a minute. “Better watch out for that new whip.”
“Aggie is going to want to tie a bow on it.” she noted.
“Oh absolutely.” Bluey grinned. “Just hope he picks out a good color for you.”
She poked him with a finger. “You underestimate his fashion skills. He’s the only one here that would look weird without any on.”
Bluey shrugged. “Fair point.”
Her face fell, and she blinked. “How am I going to explain this to everyone?” she motioned at her body. 
“I’m sure you’ll figure out something. You always do.” Bluey rested a hand on her shoulder. 
She looked at the wall. “I think it was the mutant infection. Last thing I remember was going to April because I was sick and then…” she cut off, taking a deep breath. “Things started getting a little fuzzy.”
“So you don’t remember any of your last visit?”
She looked at him with furrowed brows. “The last time I was here, I was under the weather and everyone kept trying to push me into bed despite this being a dream.”
Bluey tapped a finger against his knee as he thought. He didn’t know if explaining her brief monster moment would upset her. “That’s… not exactly… hmmm” Bluey trailed off into humming
She sighed, sitting up and glaring at him. “What happened??”
“So, how do I put this delicately?” Bluey muttered, keeping a steady tapping. “You did show up another time between then and now… and you weren’t exactly yourself. ”
She closed her fists, looking down. “Was anyone hurt?”
“No, everyone was fine.” Bluey paused to think over his phrasing. “Let's just say you made quite the entrance.”
She looked at him sadly. “Did anyone know it was me?”
“Not to my knowledge.” Bluey shook his head. “I was really the only one to see you up close.”
She nodded. “Good. I wouldn't want anyone here having any more trauma just cause I was dumb.”
Bluey just nodded, not trusting himself to continue talking without upsetting her.
She was quiet for another moment. “I remember being in April's apartment, and my leg started really hurting.” She rubbed the still-there scar where the infection had entered her body. “The lights went out and…” her breath hitched. “Her and Casey went to the other room to look for flashlights. When it got worse I was… I was alone.”
“And your brothers?” Bluey’s brows knit together in concern.
“They were out trying to maintain the infected mutants. I threw up in the van so they dropped me off at Aprils. I think I interrupted their date and they were not very happy about it.” she sighed. 
“I’m sure they didn’t really mind. They might’ve been a little upset but I severely doubt they would blame you. You were sick.” 
“April didn’t seem too mad. Casey was. He said I was cramping his style.” She laid back on the couch. 
“Ah Casey, as tactful as ever.” Bluey shook his head. “He’s not even my Casey yet I want to smack him upside the head.” 
“He’s a good guy, just…” she shrugged. 
“Blunt? Brash? A dumbass?” Bluey tried to supply.
“All of the above.” she sighed. 
Bluey snickered. “Classic Casey. At least he isn’t much different.”
“Compared to yours?” Wiz scoffed. “He’s a saint.”
“Ha!” Bluey laughed. “My Casey is a menace.”
“My Casey is less of a menace and more of an awkward idiotic hunk.” she smiled fondly. “One time he was our distraction, entering a tech company to return a toaster as dramatically as possible. He ended up smashing it and the desk and took out two security guards before he was kicked out.”
“That sounds about right. Why did you guys need to be in a tech company anyway?”
“The first time we defeated the Shredder, Splinter disappeared, and we tracked him there.” she fiddled with her hands. “We needed to get April into the security room so that she could let us into the building.”
“Oh. That sounds…” Bluey held something between a smile and grimace. “Interesting. To say the least.”
“Turns out it was run by the Utroms, and run by Leatherhead's father, Professor Mortu.”
“Leatherhead has a dad?” Bluey blinked.
“Adopted dad. The Utroms took care of him when he mutated.”
“Oh. He’s a lot luckier than my Leatherhead.”
She looked at him, her face falling. “What happened to your Leatherhead?”
“He was stuck with the kraang, a lot less friendly than the utrom.” Bluey shrugged. “Also he’s a little feral, and not our age. More and more differences.”
“Oh-” her brows knit. “At the time LH was still missing, in Bishop's hands. I guess that’s one of those universal equivalents. The other things, not so much. LH does lose control sometimes, but not often.”
“Ours goes nuts at even a mere mention of the kraang.” Bluey cracked a smirk. “He has a bad habit of grabbing Bingo by the face.”
She laughed. “When LH loses control, it’s usually Mikey he ends up throwing around. That’s how we met him in the first place.”
“We met ours by Mikey bringing him home and he threw Bingo around a little.” Bluey shakes his head. “Bingo still holds a grudge.”
“That seems flipped.” She said, Bluey nodded at her. “At least your Bishop isn’t a psychotic conspiracy theorist.”
“Our bishop is actually an Utrom.”
“Ours would rather dissect Utroms.” she glared at the ground. 
“Yeesh.” Bluey recoiled.
“He’s the one that started this whole mess!” she threw her arm out. “Staging an alien invasion, kidnapping the queen, then framing us for it.”
Bluey furrowed his brow, listened to Wiz rant.
“His stupid makeshift aliens blew up if they were hit too hard, and all their residue created the mutant outbreak.” she huffed, crossing her arms. 
“Oh no.” Bluey gasped. “That’s what started…” Bluey trailed off not wanting to draw Wiz’s attention back to her situation.
“I hope Leatherhead was able to finish the cure I had started. I figure that’s how they turned me back.” she stared off into space. 
“At least we know it works considering you’re… you.” Bluey offered.
“Mostly works.” she corrected. 
“Right, right.” 
She brought her hand up. “I still feel so different, weird…” she clenched her fist “angry.”
Bluey hums in acknowledgment as his brows draw up with concern. “You think you’re gonna be ok?” 
She didn’t respond for a moment, continuing to look at her hand. “I’ll adjust.” She set her chin on her knees and wrapped her arms around them. “I always do.”
“I’m here to help you through it Bell.” Bluey offered his hand for her to mess with. “I promise to do my best to help you through things.”
She nodded, setting her hand in his. “We really should stop Aggie before he tells everyone there’s a new turtle.”
“Oh crap.” Bluey’s eyes widened. “I forgot he doesn’t know.”
“Would you grab him?” She asked. “Apparently I can’t walk.”
“Of course Bellflower. I’ll just be a second.” Bluey zipped off to find the young lizard.
As if sensing the end of the delicate conversation, Dad stepped out of the kitchen with a tray of soup, offering it to the turtle as Bluey lost sight of the two.
Bluey zoomed through the halls, passing through and promptly spooking multiple don’s before halting in front of Aggie. “Aggie wait!”
Aggie looked at him, interrupted mid-conversation. “What’s up Bluey? Is that turtle okay?”
“Yea she is! Uh also it’s a bit of a complicated situation.” 
Aggie smiled. “That’s good. Are we okay to meet her now?” Wolf perked up from beside Aggie at the words, nodding eagerly in his direction. 
Bluey thought a moment. “M-maybe. Not right now but in time. She does want to talk with you. I think.” Bluey mumbled the last sentiment.
“Me?” Aggie pointed at himself. 
“Yes you. There’s some explaining that needs to be done.”
Aggie started following after him, telling Wolf to hang back. “Is she okay? Is she hurt?”
“She’s a little sick. Dad made her some soup.” Bluey avoided the dons he previously flew through.
“Ah.” Aggie put his hand over his mouth. “Do I need a mask?”
“Aggie you can’t contract anything here.” Bluey chuckled.
“Right…” Aggie frowned, dropping his hand. “Then how did she get sick?”
“She was already sick when she came in. It must’ve just stuck with her.” Bluey shrugged.
Aggie nodded. “Okay, anything else I should know?”
“Probably just.” Bluey halted outside the doorway poking his head in. “Give me one sec ok!”
“Ooh, announcing me?” Aggie teased.
“Something like that.” Bluey gave him a grin before floating back to Wiz. “I have aggie by the door, do you wanna explain it, or would you rather not? I just figured it’s not my story to tell.”
“I’ll explain.” She took a deep breath. 
Bluey nodded going back to Aggie. “Alright bud, come on in. Just don’t flip out ok?”
Aggie came in, approaching Wiz slowly as Dad sat beside her, softly rubbing her shell. 
“Uh-” Aggie fidgeted, unsure how to start any sort of conversation. 
Wiz took a moment before looking up at him slowly, through her hood. “H-hey, Aggie.”
Aggie blinked, his whole body going rigid for a moment as his mouth fell open. 
Then he flung his arms up in the air, dramatically shouting “WIZ?!” she flinched at the sudden reaction, recoiling further into the hoodie as Dad stiffened. Bluey floated next to Wiz offering his hand again. 
“Aggie-” Dad started.
Footsteps were heard running towards the room as Wolf poked his head through the door. Mouse ran fully into the room with a questioning chirp. Phet also followed behind, curious about the commotion. 
Wiz pulled the hood over her face again, her shoulders trembling as she muttered low enough for only Bluey and Dad to hear. “I didn’t want everyone at once…” Dad shifted, pulling her further back on the couch as he stood, blocking everyone’s view. 
“Private conversation!” he said sternly. “Out, now.”
Mouse’s expression was extremely worried and sad. “Is she ok?” Wolf came over to promptly yoink him out of the room.
Wiz reached for dad. “It’s fine. Better now than never.”
Dad looked at her for a moment. “Are you sure?” 
She nodded stiffly, and he stepped aside. “nevermind.”
Mouse inched forward, still staying a fair distance away.
Wiz looked up at him slowly, swallowing, before pulling the hood off slowly. “Hey, Mouse. Guess we’re more than book buddies now.” She gave him a tired smile.
Mouse made the smallest gasp as he quickly shuffled over to the couch. “What happened, are you ok?
“I’m- I’m not feeling great.” she admitted. “And I’m not sure what happened, I don’t remember.” she offered a darker colored hand out to him, inviting him closer.
Mouse promptly scuttled over to her, sitting next to her on the couch holding out his arms for a hug. She leaned into him, sighing as Phet stood by the door, looking confused but as understanding as he could get. 
Mouse wrapped an arm around her, landing in an almost protective position over her shell. His expression changed as he looked her over for injury. “You’re thin… and a lot taller.” He hummed.
She nodded and Dad sat down on the opposite side again. “Dad and Bluey had to help me get in here.”
Mouse nuzzled his snout into her shoulder, squeezing her as gentle as possible. “I’m sorry Wiz.”
She relaxed into the touch. “I was the one at fault.”
“No-” Mouse’s voice was stern yet calm.
“Yes.” she interrupted. “I got infected by the mutant outbreak virus by that cut in my leg. I should have kept running tests instead of trusting just one, especially when I got sick.”
“That doesn’t make it your fault.”
She didn't respond, squeezing his arms. 
Finally, Aggie spoke again. “You look… different.”
She looked over at him, Mouse feeling her tense. 
“Not a bad difference!” he backtracked. “I mean, the tail is nice! It needs a bow like your mask. Where is your mask?”
“Aggie.” Dad smiled fondly at the child. “Stop digging.”
“Right.” Aggie looked around awkwardly, then gave Wiz a thumbs up “nice to meet you! I mean-” he clamped his mouth shut, taking a breath through his nose. Then he turned and robotically marched out of the room, red in the face. 
Bluey stifled a giggle at Aggie’s actions. Wolf teased him a little as the young lizard left.
Wiz tapped Dad’s shoulder. “Think we can get everyone else?”
Dad nodded. “I’ll try. Not sure Bingo will want to come out.”
“He’s a bit… grumpy at the moment.” Bluey added.
Wiz hummed in acknowledgement. 
“I’ll try.” Dad promised. “Don’t want any later confusion, right?”
Wiz nodded and Dad left to find the others, shooing Wolf and Phet from where they were spectating unless they had something to say. Wolf left to go tease Aggie further with a mischievous grin. Phet returned to The room he’d been in with Tiny. 
Dad returned with Pup and Bitey in tow, leaving Tiny be since Phet locked the door. He also brought Poppy and  a very reluctant Bingo.
Wiz once again sat stiffly with their eyes burning her skin. She didn’t look at them yet, unsure how the few that hadn’t come running when her name was said would react in comparison. Mouse gave her a reassuring squeeze that she returned with a deep breath. 
 Pup slunk closer, ever so slowly, until he bumped his snout against her shin, sniffing a moment. Then he perked, looking up at her with a smile and a chirp. She gave him a pat on the head.
Bitey crept over next prodding her arm with his snout with a curious chirp. She offered her hand for him to sniff and he pressed his head into her palm with a happy churr, almost petting himself with her hand. She pet him herself feeling the callous skin of his scars and he pressed his cheek into the contact. He made a plethora of happy noises with a smile that she mirrored. Pup shifted, laying against one of her legs and offering a spot next to him for Bitey. He joined pup when Wiz’s hand got tired and the pets died down.
She looked up to see Bingo studying her with a critical gaze.
“You brought me out here to see that Wiz got an upgrade?” He gave dad a dramatically offended expression. “She looks great but I have important things to be doing!”
“I brought you out here,” Dad narrowed his eyes at the teen, challengingly. “So that there won’t be any future confusion should anyone not recognize her.”
“Yea cool whatever.” Bingo waved dad off as he turned to leave. “You look great, Wiz! Glad you’re not grievously injured or whatever.” 
Dad went to move after him but Wiz stopped him. “Don’t. He saw, he’s fine.”
~~~
The next visit had Bluey pacing, waiting for her to show up. She had to show up. Was she already there, like before? He checked the rooms over again and again just to be sure.
He zipped over upon hearing the chime like he’d already done three times. Wiz was standing there, yes, standing, with her mask returned and her tail wagging behind her. 
“Hey, Bluey!” she smiled, and offered her arms for a hug.
Bluey crashed into her arms with a smile. “Wiz! You’re doing better, you’re standing this time!”
She nodded, stepping back and spinning. “I’m working on it. I still need to regain some more muscle mass, but I’ll be okay.” She looked at him. “I’m okay.”
“I’m glad.” Bluey smiled wide, his own little tail wagging fast.
“I need to keep moving around to gain my strength back,” she stepped over to a table, summoning something Bluey couldn’t see past her. “I don’t know if that applies in the space, but I guess there’s only one way to tell.”
There was a click, then some pop music began to play from the radio she’d set up. She turned to him, holding her hand out. 
“Dance with me?”
“W-what?” Bluey chuckled with a lopsided grin. “Yeah, sure, but why me? I can’t dance worth a shit.”
“Who else am I supposed to ask, Bingo, Dad???” She was naming the worst options, and he knew it, taking his hand and pulling him in a circle. 
Bluey laughed as they spun. 
“Tell me why?” She motioned her fist toward him like a microphone. 
“Ain’t nothin but a heartache!” Bluey belted out on near instinct before mimicking her movements. “Tell me why?”
“Ain’t nothin but a mistake!” she grabbed his free hand, swinging it side to side. “Tell me why.”
“I never wanna hear you say!” 
They both spun and pressed their shells together, singing the next line at the same time. “I want it that way!”
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defectivevillain · 1 year
Text
stardom
pairings (can be read as platonic or romantic): Present Mic/reader, Mirko/Reader
reader’s pronouns: he/him
check out the other parts of this idol au! [part 1 / part 2]
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Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic)
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cw: migraines/headaches, dizziness
On some days, Yamada can be a handful. Of course, he’s extremely easy to work with and even easier to be around. Even so, his never-ending supply of energy can grate on your nerves sometimes. His voice is rather loud and on the days when you’re plagued with migraines or bad headaches, you begin to regret taking your position as his manager. 
You wake up one morning before work feeling remarkably shitty. Typically, your headaches will build as the day goes on. Today, however, you have a headache the moment you wake up. It throws you off a little, and your morning routine is significantly more clumsy than usual. When you finally make it to the company building and pass through security, you’re exhausted. Times like these make you wish Yamada’s offices were on a lower floor. As the elevator rises, you put a hand on the railing and close your eyes. Unsurprisingly, colors swirl across your eyes and your ears ring. The elevator dings a moment later and you break out of your reverie, making your way to your office with significantly less speed.
For a little while, you’re fine with answering emails and phone calls. However, the fluorescent lighting of your laptop screen soon begins to sear into your vision and make your head ache even worse. Even so, you push through. You have to push through. You can't go home, can’t call sick. You need to prove that you’re competent. Thus, you push through your pounding headache, your trembling hands, and the uneasy feeling eating away at your chest. 
You don’t realize how much of a mistake that is until it’s too late. You’re returning from dropping off some paperwork on one of the lower floors when you feel a sudden spurt of vertigo. You weakly grasp for the railing in the elevator, your stomach lurching as the elevator ascends higher. When it finally stops, you stumble out and manage to make it to the hallway. Unfortunately, your dizziness only seems to increase. You pinch the bridge of your nose, wincing as pain courses through your face, your teeth, and practically everywhere. 
Just as you're about to give up and let your knees crumple from under you, there’s a hand on your forearm and another on your waist. Yamada is at your side, asking you questions in a warped voice. Well, you’re sure his voice is fine, but it sounds garbled in your ears. You weakly put an arm around his shoulders and he leads you down the hall. 
“Here, sit down,” the idol says, guides you to his office and onto a couch in front of his desk. You follow along pliantly, namely because you’re too dizzy to argue. Even so, the moment you sit down and see him hovering over you, you quickly feel guilty. 
“Yamada...” You break off, shaking your head slowly. The movement makes your vision blur, so you quickly stop and look at Yamada. To your surprise, the idol is staring at you with a concerned expression. There’s a pulsing feeling in your temple and the world around you is fluctuating from fuzzy grains to sharpened lines and back again. “I’ll be fine.” You must not look very good, because the idol doesn’t look the least bit convinced. 
“Considering the amount of times you’ve taken care of me...” Yamada breaks off, an unreadable expression on his face. Well, you’re not quite sure you’d be able to pin down his expression, even without your blurry vision. He snaps his fingers and points to you. “I think it’s time for me to return the favor.” You can't help but huff out a weak laugh at that. Unfortunately, the motion certainly doesn’t help your headache. Yamada frowns and walks away, returning a few moments later with a glass of water and pills in his hand. You don't bother to argue, instead grabbing the water and downing the pills. 
“Thanks,” you murmur, trying to push yourself up off the couch. Yamada quickly pushes you back down- which can’t be hard, what with your weakened strength- and places his hands on your shoulders. 
“You should rest,” Yamada says. It's less of a suggestion and more of an order. You swallow hard and push yourself forward a little, allowing your head to fall back to the decorative pillow behind you. You want to argue, but shadows are creeping along the walls of the room and darkness is threatening to overtake your vision. Within a few moments, your eyes are closing and you’re falling asleep.  
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Usagiyama Rumi (Mirko)
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You can't help but envy Mirko- Rumi, she tells you to call her- sometimes. The idol is incredibly determined and hardworking. She puts 110% into everything she does. Watching her perfect her craft- whether it be through practicing choreography, working on songs, or anything else- always makes your heart race. Rumi has cultivated a huge fanbase over the years, and you know that she deserves every single ounce of the attention she receives. However, not everyone shares that belief. You realize this during one of her interviews with a few talk show hosts. 
Rumi is scheduled to appear on a popular late-night talk show in a few hours. Rumi, various staff members, and you have all made the trek downtown and to the television studio. It’s a rather time-consuming process, as you all are currently waiting in the studio several hours before the show is set to begin. Mirko is busy with the makeup and hair teams, while you and a few of your coworkers are ironing out any last-minute details. Rumi then has a practice rehearsal on the stage. 
Finally, after what seems like far too long, it’s time for Rumi’s live appearance. You watch with baited breath as she’s called to the stage and shakes hands with the hosts. Things go swimmingly for the first few minutes, and you can’t help but feel that your nerves from earlier were for nothing. 
Of course, that’s when it all goes to shit. The hosts proceed to ask rather insensitive questions. Mirko handles them with ease. Even so, you notice the minute twitch of her eyes or the subtle fidgeting of her fingers. The hosts seem to be entirely unaware of her discomfort, as they continue to lob wild accusations at her for no reason. Thankfully, the time for her performance approaches and she’s singing within a few minutes. After her performance, the hosts transition to the next guest and Rumi is done for the day. 
You walk back to Rumi’s dressing room and wait for her makeup and hair teams to remove any of the uncomfortable pieces she’s wearing. Mirko often requests that they remove all her makeup, which is somehow controversial for an idol to do. You can’t help but think she looks just as stunning without any makeup, but you keep that to yourself. When Rumi is finished up, she nods at you and the two of you exit the room and walk through the studio. Your coworkers will meet you back at the building, since there are multiple cars waiting for you outside. 
“That was insane,” you remark furiously, once the two of you are safely out of earshot from anyone. Rumi bites her lip and looks ahead, the only external sign of her troubles. Her distress quickly fades and she plasters a smile on her face.
“Hey, it's fine,” Rumi says, waving your concerns off. You raise an eyebrow at her and, for a few moments, the two of you walk in silence. You’re trying to filter your thoughts, but clearly you’re not doing a very good job, because you're soon blurting out exactly what you think. 
“They can’t just dismiss you like that,” you continue, clenching your fists at your sides. “Like, seriously, what the hell?! You’ve worked so hard. How dare they?”
“Well-”
“And, hey, they didn’t say those types of things to any of the others!” You can’t stop the words coming out of your mouth anymore. The verbal filter in your mind has completely disintegrated. “They were super nice to the other idols. They didn’t say any of those things to Haru and, hell, he’s super lazy! He does practically nothing all day and I can vouch for that, since I worked for him for a little bit.” You sigh and cross your arms over your chest. You’re about to continue speaking when there’s a sudden hand on your shoulder. 
“Sweetheart,” Rumi cuts you off. You promptly shut your mouth. She looks at you with an exasperated smile. Surely, you’re imagining the fondness in that expression. “It’s okay. It’s happened before, unfortunately.”
“That’s such- such bullshit,” you stammer, anger still brewing in your chest. Admittedly, you're unsure why this is getting you so heated. Then, you think back to all the times you’ve seen Rumi practicing tirelessly in the dance studio, humming to herself during breaks, listening and watching her performances again... Suddenly, you think your anger is justified. 
“I’ve gotten used to those kinds of comments,” Rumi answers, which doesn’t exactly make you feel any better. 
“You shouldn’t have to get used to it.” You frown. 
“But, you know what?” Rumi asks, her gaze intense as she looks at you. “Not everyone is like them. Some people don’t bother to get to know me and, hell, that’s fine. No point in wasting time on them.”
The people that count know how much work I put in. My fans know that I put a lot of effort into producing my music. And... that’s all that matters. Haters, naysayers, and ignorant assholes won’t go away. Even so, knowing that people like you recognize my efforts... It’s more than enough for me.”
At that, Rumi leans to the side and wraps her muscular arm around your shoulders. You subconsciously lean closer. Thankfully, you’re under the cover of night, so you’e not worried about anyone seeing either of you. As you walk to the car, you can’t help but notice the appreciative smile on Rumi’s face. You’re glad you stood up for her, even if your efforts were a bit too late. 
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thanks for reading! if you liked this, consider checking out the other parts of this idol au! 
part 1: monoma, shigaraki, shinsou
part 2: bakugo, kirishima, todoroki
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For the majority of these snippets, I’ve concentrated on the reader comforting/being there for the idol. However, I decided to flip the script in the snippet with Yamada. I think it works out well. 
I’ve never quite had an opinion on Mirko one way or the other... Then this snippet happened and now I’m down bad y’all 😭😭 she's so cool. 
13 notes · View notes
dramatical · 2 years
Note
How do you make your gifs have high quality? Do you use any presets or have any tips? Your edits are amazing, it would be AMAZING if you could share. <3
Ah thank you anon!! 🥰🥰
My tips are basically the same any other creator will give you tbh for good and crispy gifs your source material should be 1080p MINIMUM , I cannot stress that enough. For film search for files between 5-10gb for good results, but if you have space in your drives for even bigger files then go with these, sometimes files under 3-4gb are compressed as fuck and will only give you a headache when you try to color and The Pixels™ will inevitably show themselves. For tv anything under 1gb will be questionable, good streaming services rips are over 1gb for sure.
There is however good files not compressed for film under 3gb sometimes and they are encoded as x265 so if you don't have much space but still want to gif in quality get these downloads, in their name usually they say if they are 264 or 265 so look up for that. So in short:
Under 3gb encoded in 264: shit
Under 3gb encoded in 265: good!
If you need a place for downloads come of anon and I'll link you a trusted place for gifmakers only.
Okay enough on the files 😂 for doing the actual gifs I either screencap or use an external tool to trim an specific scene I want to gif. For screencaps I recommend mpv or mpv.net, both are open source programs and work really well and gifs will look the best imo. For trimming videos I use ffmpeg on my computer's CMD but it's not very user friendly if you don't know how to use ffmpeg well, I know people recommend handbrake though so there's that option and then use video frames to layers.
For sharpening I use 3 different settings depending on my source material:
Animation: I use a smart sharpen with 500 0.3, if it's ghibli or anime I'll lower the opacity of the sharpen around 80-85%
Tv/Film: a good source (files over 3gb) will only need a 500 0.3 sharpen sometimes. If I want it to look a bit more crispy I add another sharpen of 100 1. For not so good sources I apply a 500 0.4 sharpen and I lower its opacity to 80-85%
Youtube videos/music videos: first, YouTube is a bitch on quality so there's that, but if you can't find the thing you want to gif elsewhere (like our lord and savior Vimeo or the ShareMania forum) for YouTube I get my videos using Jdownloader, it will download the biggest file possible and more often than not it's the best quality possible. If the video even being 1080p looks kinda shit I use Topaz to denoise and clean my gif and then I apply a 500 0.4 lowered to 85% smart sharpen (gif making for kpop taught me many things lately 😂) and it looks like it was a video from a good source! There's also avisynth and vapoursynth but I don't use them, if you wanna check that out you can Google and lots of tutorials will show up, mostly from kpop creators.
After that, it's all coloring tbh. Know that shit files won't be able to handle vibrant coloring very well so be careful with that. If it's too bad I try to bring up the darks more to no make it too visible but you will always get pixelated stuff with bad quality source.
My saving settings vary between adaptive/diffusion and adaptive/pattern, if I'm working on animation or too heavily colored sets (like with gradients) I'll go with pattern, if not it's diffusion.
Okie I think that covers everything 🙈 if you ever need more help with gif making you can message me again and I'll gladly help!
You can also join the @pscentral server on discord where there's ton of gif makers (from beginners to well established ones) that will always be there to help and always give good feedback ☺️
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namchyoon · 2 years
Note
hey cyan genius bestie you’re so cool you’re so great everything you make is so beautiful and we’re so lucky to have u here
content creator appreciation! list five favorite sets you’ve made and send this ask to five other content creators ❤️‍🩹
this has been sitting in my ask box for literal months bc i didn't like 90% of the bts sets i've made recently but i maybe like the last couple so i'll answer it before they become ugly again <3 thanks bestie for sending this in you're so nice i do not deserve you this website does not deserve you miss queen of gif making :(
namjoon's smile: this moment makes me so so happy and i think i've even giffed this before but i'm so happy with how the coloring turned out here just bright and vibrant and the purple background my beloved too i just think everything about this set is my favourite a set catered specifically for me <3
psy conning yoongi: this whole set gives me joy i laughed so much i rewatched this clip so many times and also coloring the yoongi part of it esp was a headache + it was a twitter 720p vid so i think all in all i managed a decent set out of it and gave myself free serotonin for ages <3
joon vs. cape: this set had no reason for making whatsoever except kris randomly sent me this moment asking if i giffed it before and i didn't so i giffed it and tried out new sharpening settings which actually worked really well and i think it came out really hq esp compared to my last few sets and of course joon vs. things in general as a concept is just so funny and i adore it (also platinum joon yes fucking please)
taejoon in ptd vegas: it's not even close to decent quality wise nor is it consistent but it makes me supremely happy by pure virtue of all the moments in there and this was for me and me specifically so of course i love it and i go back to it a lot just to Feel something <3
joon grammys: he's just sitting there and i'm losing my mind.... no but seriously the original lighting in this video is just blue/cyan/green idk what so i'm actually really happy with my coloring here and managing to bring back his skin tone to the extent where i can't even remember what it looked like before
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timelesslords · 2 years
Note
prompts: could you write an in canon verse (so like gods and stuff are real) fic with amnesia? it could be post TLO or it could be one of them coming out of anesthesia and feeling wonky. i just love a good memory loss fic.
@halfbloodcarrie was instrumental in making this happen!!! Her adorable fluffy idea was completely paid dust in favor of making this angsty as hell but I blame her for me getting it done at all <3
read on AO3
Everything was dark. And everything hurt. His head especially was throbbing, but he couldn’t make out any other feeling. He could hear something; vague at first, just a ringing. But if he struggled, and he did, he could start to make out faint voices. His eyes refused to open, they wouldn’t even blink, but the noises were getting clearer by the second.
“What if he doesn’t wake up?” a worried voice asked. Something about it felt familiar, but he couldn’t even pry his eyes open, much less figure out who it belonged to.
“He’ll wake up,” a second voice said, male this time. He sounded confident, assured. At least he thought so.
“There was so much blood, I thought… gods.”
The first voice again, though this time it wavered. It sounded scared, terrified even.
“He’ll be alright, Annabeth. He’s got a thick skull.”
That made the first voice laugh, watery as it was.
“Don’t I know it.”
Some feeling was starting to return to his limbs, slowly but surely. He tried blinking again, but it felt sluggish, slow. Suddenly he realized he could feel his arms and fingers, and there was a hand in his, gripping it so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t felt it before.
“Percy?” the female voice asked, hopeful. He groaned. His head was pounding like nothing he’d ever felt before. Actually, he wasn’t sure if that was true, because he couldn’t remember his head pounding before, ever.
Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember anything at all.
He blinked again, this time managing to pry his eyelids open a fraction of a degree. The light streaming in hurt like a bitch, and he groaned again, closing his eyes.
“Percy,” the first voice said again, more frantically, “Can you hear me?”
She seemed to be talking to him, though he wasn’t quite sure. He couldn’t remember his name, but she’d said Percy twice, so that had to be it, didn’t it?
He tried to say something to the girl, but it came out as a strangled groan of pain.
“Will,” she said, a little desperately.
“He’s maxed out, Annabeth, I’m sorry,” the other voice said.
The girl (Annabeth?) muttered something under her breath in-- was that Greek? And how did he know that? More determined than ever, Percy blinked again, this time managing to crack his eyelids open and keep them that way.
His vision was blurry, but a few more blinks and the vague shapes in front of him started to sharpen into focus.
“Percy?” the girl said again. Percy squinted, trying to focus on her.
The first thing he noticed was that she was-- well, pretty didn’t quite describe it. She was seriously beautiful. Her eyes were a dark grey color, currently wide with concern, her hair framing her face in cascades of golden curls. Her nose was small and button shaped, dotted with freckles.
Even if Percy didn’t currently feel like a small blacksmith’s forge was hammering on the inside of his skull, he was pretty sure he would’ve been rendered pretty speechless.
“Hey there, sleepyhead. You were out for a while,” she said, smiling. She did look relieved, but Percy didn’t miss the genuine worry behind her eyes either, the little waver along her lips trying to maintain an upbeat expression.
“I… what’s going on?” Percy asked. Annabeth bit her lip, looking over her shoulder. Percy glanced upwards, properly seeing the other person in the room for the first time. He was a teenager, with shaggy blonde hair a shade or two lighter than the girl’s. He was wearing a white lab coat over what looked to be an orange t-shirt and jeans, which didn’t exactly instill Percy with a lot of confidence in whatever medical care he was receiving.
Of course, the fact that he had no memory didn’t help matters.
“You sort of got hit in the head,” Annabeth said, wincing as she did.
“Really hard,” the boy added.
Percy reached up tentatively, to the place where it felt like his skull was splitting inside out. Instead of skin he felt something else, some thick sort of fabric.
“Ow,” he said, a little unhelpfully. The girl smiled again-- crap, how was she even more beautiful when she smiled?-- but it still had an edge of sadness to it.
“Yeah. Discus accident,” she said.
“Discus accident?” Percy asked, confused.
“Yeah. Those stone frisbee things, remember?” the other guy said.
“No,” Percy said, pushing himself into a sitting position. It made his head throb, but he couldn’t stand lying down anymore. “I don’t-- I don’t remember anything.”
“You mean-- you mean you don’t remember the accident,” Annabeth said, a little forcefully. Her grey eyes flashed, and Percy didn’t quite recognize the expression, but something in his gut told him it was not good.
“No, I mean I don’t remember anything,” Percy repeated, figuring it was best to get it out of the way sooner or later, “I don’t know where I am or who you are or who I am.”
The girl took one very long look at him. He didn’t know what exactly he had said in particular that had triggered something in her, but the concern fell from her face in an instant. She dropped his hand, something sharp overtaking her expression.
“You’re such an ass sometimes,” she said. Her voice was a little thick, but Percy couldn’t tell if she was crying, because in the next second she stood and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. Inadvertently, Percy felt a twinge of something sad in his chest, though he couldn’t quite place why. He didn’t know Annabeth, but she clearly seemed to know him, and what he’d said had clearly set her off.
All of this was really not improving his headache, which had resumed its throbbing with reckless abandon.
“I didn’t mean to…” Percy trailed off. To what? Upset her? Make her run away? But all he’d done was tell the honest truth-- he couldn’t remember shit. The guy was giving him a look that was bordering on disgust.
“Dude, that’s really not funny,” he said. He sounded pissed, though if Percy wasn’t entirely mistaken, there was a hint of fear behind his bright blue eyes.
“I’m not trying to be funny, I literally don’t know what’s going on,” Percy said, starting to feel a little frantic. Why was everyone here acting like they knew him? And why did he not even know him? He felt nerves and something else tugging in his gut, an insistent, terrifying pull--
Without warning, the glass next to his bed shattered, spraying water and glass everywhere. Percy flinched away from the table, whirling around to look at the boy. His eyes were wide and surprised.
“What the fuck was that?” Percy asked, alarmed.
“That was… you,” the boy said, staring at Percy like he had just grown a second head, “Styx, you’re not making this up, are you?”
“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t know what’s going on for you to believe me?” Percy said, still staring wide-eyed at the place where the cup had shattered. For his own sanity, he decided to ignore the boy’s declaration that he had caused it.
“Four, apparently,” the boy said, rubbing his forehead like he could feel a headache coming on, “Unless you want to make it five for good measure?”
“I have absolutely no memory,” Percy repeated.
“Great. This is just-- this is awesome,” the boy said, sighing heavily.
“Yeah, I’m having so much fun over here,” Percy said dryly.
“Right, sorry,” the boy said, wincing, “Your name is Percy.”
So Percy had guessed that correctly. Good to know.
“My name is Will,” the boy continued, oblivious to Percy’s thoughts, “The girl was--”
“Annabeth,” Percy finished. Will perked up, hopeful, but Percy shook his head.
“I heard you say her name,” Percy explained. Will deflated.
“Oh, right,” he said. He sounded inordinately disappointed, way more disappointed than he’d been when Percy hadn’t remembered him.
“How exactly did this happen?” Percy asked, doing his best not to rub his forehead again. Will sighed.
“Some newbies were messing around with the discuses on the strawberry fields-- which is stupidly dangerous, by the way, we have an arena for a reason-- but it went a little off course and almost hit Annabeth in the face. You shoved her out of the way but it clipped your forehead pretty good.”
Percy tried to process all that, piece by piece. He didn’t know what a newbie was, and apparently wherever this place was had strawberry fields that he and Annabeth had been in together? But the strangest thing of all was that Percy didn’t feel at all surprised that he’d gotten injured trying to get Annabeth out of the way. That piece felt strangely right to him, even if everything else was messy and confusing.
“So me and Annabeth are friends, then?” he asked. Will gave him a strange look, his face paling slightly.
“You guys… you’re close. Really close.”
Percy nodded. That made sense. He didn’t know why Will was being weird about it, but he believed him regardless.
“She was mad at me,” Percy noted. At this, Will winced.
“Yeah. Memory loss… it's kind of a sore subject for her.”
“Why?” Percy asked. Maybe it was a little invasive, but this was all stuff he was supposed to know anyway, wasn’t it?
Will sighed, rubbing his face in his hands.
“Gods, I’m so not the person to be explaining this to you,” he said, “But a few years ago you sort of… disappeared. And you lost all your memories. Except you remembered her. But it was really, really tough on her, she had no idea if you were gonna know anything or not when she found you.”
Percy blinked, trying to take all that in. He had a feeling that was the hyper-condensed version of what had gone down, but it explained the situation well enough. Annabeth hadn’t considered the fact that he genuinely wouldn’t remember her, so she’d assumed it was a bad joke. Percy wished it was a bad joke, because he would give absolutely anything to remember more about her.
“Got it,” Percy said, trying not to frown, “So how did I get my memories back last time? Can we do that again?”
Will grimaced.
“I think last time you drank gorgon’s blood, but we’re fresh out of that.”
Percy stared at him, unsure if he was joking or not. He looked serious, but Percy didn’t want to press it. Clearly last time had been a different sort of deal.
“So what do we do? I can’t go around like this forever.”
“Well, hopefully it's just temporary. Your head injury, plus the mortal pain meds we gave you, plus the nectar--”
“The what?” Percy asked.
“Don’t worry about it,” Will said, a little hurriedly. “The point is, your brain is processing a lot of stuff right now. My best guess is that it overloaded a bit, and the amnesia is a side effect. If that’s the case it should go away on its own eventually.”
“And if it’s not the case?” Percy asked, dreading the answer a little. As predicted, WIll grimaced again.
“It could be from the initial injury. In which case it would be… more permanent.”
Percy’s mouth went a little dry.
“Goodie.”
“It probably isn’t,” Will said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.
“So what do we do?” Percy asked again.
“You could try going to sleep. It might give your brain a chance to readjust, chill out a little. Or…”
Will trailed off, clearly unwilling to finish his thought.
“Or?” Percy prompted.
“Or we could try to jog your memory with stuff you might remember,” Will finished. Percy didn’t understand why this option seemed to be so unpleasant to Will, since it made the most sense to him. He felt disoriented as hell, and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to calm his mind down enough to sleep anytime soon. Plus, he was pretty sure he’d been unconscious for a good long while.
“How long was I asleep just now?” Percy asked.
“A while,” Will admitted.
“So let’s try the other thing.”
Will swallowed heavily, his fingers gripping the sides of his white coat a little too tightly.
“Yeah. Okay,” he said, still not sounding happy about it at all, “I’ll-- ugh. Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”
Percy did not move, mostly because he didn’t think he could get up from his bed if he tried. Being alone gave him the chance to observe the room he was in a little bit. It was small but clean, sort of a cross between a normal bedroom and a hospital unit. The walls were made of old looking hardwood, and if he craned his head back a little bit he could almost see out the window. It looked green out there, but it was kind of hard to tell.
Nothing about this place felt familiar, but that didn’t mean much, given nothing Percy had experienced since waking up felt familiar.
Nothing except for those few flashes of feeling he’d gotten about Annabeth, anyway.
Will was gone for a long time, a lot longer than Percy had been expecting. He couldn’t tell time very well and he didn’t see a clock anywhere, but it felt like Will had to have been gone at least half an hour, maybe more. Just when Percy was about to give up and try taking a nap, the door opened again. Will was there, but this time Annabeth was in tow too.
Percy tried not to read too hard into the fact that she didn’t look happy to be there. If he wasn’t mistaken, her eyes were puffy and red from crying, though now they were narrowed in barely constrained anger, her arms folded over her chest.
Will, for his part, looked extremely nervous. That didn’t give Percy a lot of hope about how this was going to go.
“It would probably work better if you could get up and walk around, but well…” he trailed off, but Percy knew exactly why that wasn’t possible. Just keeping his eyes open had been a struggle, and he was pretty sure if he tried to stand right now he was gonna black out.
“Yeah, sounds like a bad idea,” he agreed. Annabeth said nothing, just kept staring with her jaw clenched tight.
“I figured-- you know, you remembered Annabeth last time,” Will said, still sounding nervous, “And you guys have known each other for years, so if anything is going to jog your memory… well.”
“Okay,” Percy said, easily.
Annabeth remained silent.
“I’ll leave you guys alone,” Will said, looking like he absolutely couldn’t wait to get out of the room. He did a second later, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him.
Annabeth looked extraordinarily unhappy to be there. Any care that she had displayed for him when he first woke up was apparently gone. She said nothing as she looked at him with nothing but ice in her eyes.
He didn’t know why exactly she was so pissed-- it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember anything, and wouldn’t it be worse for him anyway? But she didn’t seem keen on speaking to him anytime soon, and Percy figured it was up to him to break the ice.
“So, um. Are you single?” Percy asked. It was dumb, sure, but he didn’t remember shit, and this girl was pretty and she seemed to care about him and well? Might as well shoot his shot.
Annabeth muttered something under her breath, something that sounded suspiciously like I’m going to kill you. Cool. Definitely did not make her hotter to him, not even a little bit.
“I’m not single,” she said, practically glaring at him.
“Got it. Sorry,” Percy said. For just a second her eyes ducked away, sadness replacing anger. But then she looked back up, and her previous expression was reinstated.
“Why don’t we just stick to you,” she said.
“Sure,” Percy said. He didn't want to make her mad again, because he had a feeling if that kept happening it would not end well for him. He wasn’t sure what could be worse than complete and total amnesia, but looking at Annabeth he was pretty sure she could think of something.
She took a deep breath, a little unsteadily.
“Your name is Percy,” she said, “I guess Will already told you that, though.”
Percy nodded. She moistened her lips, staring down at the ground.
“Okay. What else do you want to know?”
“Where are we?” Percy asked. It wasn’t his most urgent question, but it felt like a safer one to ask. Then again, from the look on Annabeth’s face, maybe that was a miscalculation. She was biting her lip, the anger in her expression softening slightly. It seemed to be replaced by something sad though, and Percy found he almost preferred the anger.
“It’s… a little hard to explain. But we’re at a camp. A summer camp. It’s-- it’s where we met.”
“Why are we here now?” Percy asked. Annabeth shrugged.
“We’re just visiting,” she said.
“Together?” Percy asked. She stared at him, swallowing heavily.
“Yeah. Together,” she said, though she was clearly unwilling to elaborate.
Okay then. Time for a new line of questioning. A safer line, one that hopefully wouldn’t put her on the verge of tears.
“What’s my favorite color?” he asked.
“Blue,” she said, instantly.
“Favorite food?”
“Anything blue,” she said, just as fast.
“I eat blue food?” Percy asked, confused. She smiled for the first time since he’d told her his memory was gone. It was small, but it still made his heart flutter.
“Yeah. It’s sort of an inside joke with you and your mom,” she said. The smile faded just as fast as it had come, but her answer had inadvertently given Percy more information than he’d expected.
“So I’m close to my mom?” Percy asked, unable to help it. Annabeth nodded again. She took a tentative step forward, sitting back down on the chair beside his bed.
“Who else?” he asked, without thinking. Annabeth frowned, a little confused.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“I mean--” Percy started, realizing this might be a little too much too soon, but wanting to know so badly he couldn’t help but ask anyway, “I mean, who else am I close to?”
Annabeth didn’t answer for a long minute. She was looking down at the ground again, her hands gripping her own shoulders, arms shielding her chest. She seemed to be contemplating something, though what it was, Percy wasn’t sure.
Maybe he shouldn’t have asked that question. Maybe it was too personal-- with a start Percy realized that Annabeth was probably a pretty high priority for him, given the scant details he knew about their relationship, and him not knowing that intrinsically had to hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “Just forget it, tell me something else.”
She finally looked back up at him, though she still seemed upset and unsure.
“No, it’s fine,” she said, though she was clearly forcing her voice not to waver, “Like I said, you’re close to your mom, her name is Sally. You have a sister named Estelle and a brother named Tyson. And your best friend is--” she stumbled, but found herself again, “His name is Grover.”
Percy noticed that Annabeth’s own name was conspicuously absent from that list. Maybe he should keep his mouth shut, all things considered, but his curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to know this more than anything.
“What about you?” he asked, voice quiet.
It took her less time to answer than he expected, but she was still quiet for a minute.
“You asked me if I was single,” she said finally, eyes ducked down, a rosy blush growing in her cheeks, “And I said no because-- because we’re dating. We have been for a while.”
“Oh,” Percy said. He could feel his own face getting red, even though this was kind of great news-- or maybe not so great news, considering his stupid brain still couldn’t remember shit. But it still felt right, like a puzzle piece slotting into place. Of course he was dating her. That was just correct, an inalienable fact he felt dumb for not knowing, despite not knowing anything at all.
“Yeah,” she said, “But you don’t remember, so… so I don’t know anymore, I guess.”
“I’m sorry,” Percy said, and he felt it. He felt like an idiot, both for trying to flirt with her earlier, and for not putting the pieces together sooner. The hand holding probably should have given it away, at the very least.
To his surprise, Annabeth gave him a small smile, even though her eyes were a little red. She wiped them on her sleeve, clearly trying not to do it in an obvious way.
“Sorry, it’s just-- that’s so you,” she said, sniffling a little.
“What’s so me?” Percy asked. He felt stupid, oblivious, but she just smiled again, a touch wider this time.
“Apologizing for something that isn’t even your fault.”
“I really am sorry,” Percy said, and he felt worse with every word, “I want to remember, I do, it’s just-- all of it’s gone.”
“I know,” she said. She sounded defeated. “I guess it would be too much to ask for you to remember me twice, huh?”
She said it like a joke, but Percy could feel the real pain behind her words. He felt an ache in his chest, like a phantom pain he couldn’t quite place, something in him mirroring her own hurt. He wanted so badly to comfort her, but he didn’t know how.
Or maybe he did. His brain was a jumbled mess, but he did know the only things that had made him feel anything since he’d woken up had to do with her.
“I… I almost get flashes,” he admitted, glancing up at her again. She wasn’t quite meeting his eye, looking somewhere over his shoulder, but he continued anyway. “When you say or do things… It’s like my body knows what to feel but my mind doesn’t know why.”
She glanced up, her eyes finally meeting his own. They were still shining with tears, though not as intensely as before.
“Like how?” she asked, simply. Percy swallowed heavily, not exactly sure what to say. It was hard to describe, given he’d barely recognized his own feelings.
“Like… like when you left, before. I was upset but I didn’t know why. I didn’t know you but I knew… I knew that was supposed to hurt, somehow. And when Will told me about how I got hurt in the first place, how I was trying to keep the frisbee thing from hitting you-- that felt right, but I don’t know why.”
She had graduated to crying in earnest now, tears slipping out of the corner of her eyes and falling down her cheeks. Percy felt the inexplicable urge to reach out and brush them away, but he knew he couldn’t. And that hurt too for some reason, a hollow aching in his chest he couldn’t quite place even though the reason for it was standing right in front of him.
“And right now,” Percy continued, even though maybe he shouldn’t, “You’re upset and I just feel this urge to do something, and I can’t because I don’t know how.”
“Percy, please--” she said, still crying, her voice rough with tears. He didn’t know what she was begging for, but he couldn’t help his next words slipping out, like his tongue knew more what to do than his mind.
“I don’t know anything about me, but I know-- I know I love you. I can feel it. I’m not just saying it either, I swear I can feel it.”
“Percy,” she said again, her voice barely above a whisper this time.
“You have to help me, Annabeth. I don’t know what to do,” he said, and this time it was his turn for his voice to get thick, a lump in his throat obscuring his words.
“I--” she started, swallowing heavily, eyes welling with tears again, “I don’t know what to do.”
“Yes you do,” Percy said, and he was sure she did, something in him just knew, “You always do, don’t you?”
That felt right too, even if he couldn’t place why, but it seemed to mean more to her than to him. She stared at him, eyes wide and scared. She was so close now, close enough that he could see every freckle on her nose.
Annabeth looked so panicked that for a second a second, Percy thought she was going to hit him, but then she did the opposite. She leaned over and kissed him.
Her lips were soft and sweet, and she tasted like strawberries and salt. His lips seemed to know exactly what to do, moving against hers like they’d kiss her a thousand times-- and maybe they had. His hand moved, almost of its own accord to her hair, tangling in it, pulling her a fraction of an inch closer--
And then it hit him. The scent of her shampoo, lemony and sharp and familiar.
He gasped, not meaning to, but she pulled back, grey eyes wide.
“Percy?” she asked, hopeful even as she tried to hide it.
“Annabeth,” he said, trying not to panic as things started to float through his mind-- more than things, memories. Her face and her voice and her words, the feeling of her hand in his and her smile against his lips, it all started to flood back like it had never left.
“Are you--” she asked, her hands on his shoulders, gripping tight, too tight, but he didn’t even care.
“Annabeth,” he breathed, saying her name like a revelation, because it was, “You’re Annabeth Chase, you’re my girlfriend and an architect and you’re scared to death of spiders and you still sleep with a teddy bear--”
She cut him off at that last point, throwing her arms around him and hugging him harder than she ever had-- except for maybe that time she’d thought he was dead for two weeks and he’d crashed his own funeral. Percy hugged her back just as hard, because he actually remembered that.
It hadn’t all come back-- things were blurry, most things, actually. But Annabeth at least felt clear in his mind, a shining beacon welcoming the rest of his memories back. He was already starting to get a headache again, but he didn’t care. They would come back. And even if they didn’t-- he had her. That was enough.
She pulled back from her bone crushing embrace, keeping their faces so close their noses were almost touching. She seemed scared that if she pulled away he might too, even though he had no intention of doing so, physically or mentally.
“So you’re back? Really?” she asked, sounding scared to know the answer.
“Sort of,” Percy confirmed, wincing as he did. He really was starting to get a pounding headache. “I remember you. And bits and pieces of other things, but mostly you.”
Annabeth breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes for a long moment.
“You scared the shit out of me,” she whispered, her hands trailing up his neck, just barely scraping his hair.
“I know. I’m sorry,” he breathed. And he did know, now better than ever. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours since he’d woken up without his memory, but he knew every minute of it had to have been hell for her.
Annabeth sighed, pulling back further, so he could see her whole face. Her eyes were still red from crying, and her cheeks were still flushed from their kiss. But he could see the barest traces of humor in her expression, a slight tug at the corner of her mouth where a smile was being repressed.
“What?” he asked, but she just shook her head.
“It’s nothing,” she said, but her smile had grown.
“Come on, I just had amnesia. You have to tell me.”
She laughed, a light tinkling sound. It was just on the edge of being hysterical, but she deserved it, after the day she’d been having.
“Fine. I was just thinking-- Hera couldn’t make you forget me but a glorified frisbee could?” Annabeth said.
“Hey, it was heavy!” Percy protested, but he couldn’t help but grin as he did. He would probably stay grinning for the rest of his life, actually.
“You’re such an idiot,” she breathed, pulling him into a hug again, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Percy said, hugging her back. And now he knew he did, in a permanent, tangible way.
There was still a lot missing, but he had the most important bits down. His name was Percy Jackson. He was twenty years old, and in college and a demigod, and lots of other things that would surely return with time.
And he loved Annabeth Chase more than anything in the world.
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luimagines · 3 years
Text
He reacts to seeing you Sick/Wounded Part 2
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Masterlist
Part 1 Part 3
Scenario under the cut! Blood ahead so be warned.
Twilight
Twilight looked around the group for what had to be the umpteenth time, searching for you.
You had left awhile ago and had yet to return.
If it was Wild or Hyrule he wouldn’t have put much thought into it. The two of them were notorious for wandering off if something shiny caught their eye and they could be gone for hours.
Not you though.
If anything, you were the one to insist on keeping the group together and to avoid “splitting the party”. as you’d say. You even had a song to go with it, a catchy little tune from your world and he caught himself humming under his breath more than once when he realize someone was gone.
But you were gone long enough now that you even missed a meal.
Twilight started bouncing his knee in anticipation, the worse scenarios coming to mind at what could be happening to you.
“I’m going to find them.” He said, standing up and walking away from the group.
He waits until he’s far enough away to take out the necklace he’s been carrying around since the start of this adventure.
Twilight activates the charm and feels the magic wash over him, his vision and senses sharpening as the worlds color fade and his perspective changes.
There’s always a little discomfort as the beginning of each transformation so he takes a second to compose himself.
Twilight then starts sniffing the air and catches your scent, following where it leads. The path is pretty straight forward and he can almost reconstruct how long it took for you to reach the destination. Twilight travels a little farther than he was expecting, it’s way farther than hearing range, even with his advanced ears.
It’s a little concerning because even if you were to scream for help, there’s no way any of them would have known.
He’s trying to be optimistic. Twilight has seen you fight. He has seen you treat your own wounds. He was personally seen your resourcefulness in tricky situations. There’s little, he thinks, that can actually keep you down.
But then his worst nightmare comes to his nose and he takes off in a sprint. 
It’s blood.
It’s yours.
And there’s a lot of it.
He follows it as far as he can until he hears a pained whimper.
Twilight then follows the sound and comes to a stop, shocked at the sight before him.
You’re sitting up against a tree, the top half of you looks fine if only a little ragged and there’s tear streaks down both your cheeks. Twilight follows the line of your body and sees that there’s no injuries on your arms or torso even if your hands are covered in blood.
But at sight of your leg, he knows what’s happened.
There has to be people nearby, that’s the only explanation.
It’s metal trap with sharp jagged teeth that penetrate the skin and muscle in order to keep the prey from escaping, and they’re incredibly hard to break out of if you don’t have the right equipment. They’re also known for breaking bones if they hit in the right places.
It’s also clamed just above your ankle, blood weeps through still and has travels through the fabric of your pants un to your knee, pronouncing the injury even more.
“Wolfie...” You whimper and try to smile at seeing him. “Yay, you found me. I knew you’d come get me at some point. I tried calling but I think I’m too far away.”
Twilight’s heart bleeds for you and how scared you must have been before he showed up. And he wishes he would have gone looking for you sooner.
You sniffle and whip your face and nose with your sleeve, avoiding the mess on your hands. “I can’t get out. I tried but it’s stuck.” 
Twilight pads closer and sticks his nose by your hands but you pull them back. “I know it looks bad but my hands aren’t hurt...It’s all from my leg. I don’t want to get blood on your pretty fur.”
Twilight doesn’t take time to process the compliment and instead is focused on the choice he has in front of him.
Transform and reveal his secret to you, enabling him to help you here and now or go back and get help, leaving you to the mercy of whatever finds you in your vulnerable state.
It’s a pretty easy choice actually.
Twilight calls off the magic and lets the transformation wash over him. As per usual, the change is disorienting and it’s always hurt more to turn back human than it did to change into a wolf, so he takes a moment to breath before he looks at your ankle.
“Tw-Twilight? You’re Wolfie?” You splutter and try to wrap your head around what you just saw.  “It’s been you this whole time?!”
But he’s ignoring you.
He takes a good look at where the trap is and begins to prod ever so slightly.
“H-HEY!” You cry and try to reach for him. “Don’t! It hurts!”
He doesn’t have the key to unlock it and he doesn’t have the right tools at his disposal to try and pick the lock.
“Twilight please say something.”
“I’m going to get you out. Just hold on a little longer.” He glares at the metal for a moment before placing both his hands around it.
If there’s one thing he’s always been confident in, it’s his strength.
With both hands secured on the device he forces all of his weight to pry it open. He ignores how you continue to make sounds of pain, how his finger tips immediately become moist with your blood and how difficult moving this stupid thing to get you free actually turns out to be. 
After a battle of wills between man and the artificial, it moves and he tilts his hands to keep the momentum going until he’s moved enough of it for you to pull your leg out.
“Go. Get out.” He says with the strain in his voice.
You push away with your hands and your good leg to the best of your ability and slowly (well slower than Twilight would have preferred) to move your leg out of the trap and far enough away where he can simply let it clamp on itself again without fear of losing any fingers or hurting you again.
You gulp and try to move your pant leg to see the damage but it’s clear that doing that hurts you as well.
Twilight it quick to cut off the fabric with his trusted pocket knife and he peels it away.
Bones have definitely been broken.
And there’s certainly a lot of blood to deal with.
He twists the fabric slightly and wraps it above and around your injury to try and stop the flow of blood. Twilight can feel the glare he’s giving to your wound and refuses to look you in face so you can see it.
“Twilight?” You call to him. Your voice is small, weak, tired and afraid.
He can’t leave you to your own thoughts like he wants to so he takes a breath to calm himself and looks at you with as much gentleness and care as he can currently muster.
“You’re going to be just fine, ok?” He says with a small smile. “You’re actually pretty far from the others so it’ll be a bit of a trip but then we’ll get Hyrule to look at you, clean you up... find you some new clothes... You’ll be back to where you were in no time.”
Twilight’s not sure who he’s trying to convinced. It looks deep.
He hopes your foot won’t need to be cut off and that infection hasn’t already set in.
He moves towards you and stops on your good side, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. In one swift movement he hooks his other arm under your knees and picks you up bridal style and begin to walk away from the mess.
You sniffle again and wipe your bloodied hands on your shirt. “Thank you Twilight.” You say. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
“Well you’re going to have to tell one of us what happened.” He responds. “The other are going to ask what on earth happened to you.”
“I meant about you being Wolfie.” You smile. “I’m fully prepared to explain my stupid decisions.”
The easy way you make that claim nearly makes him skip a step and send you both to the ground but Twilight is quick to readjust himself so that it never happens.
He had actually forgotten about that.
“I’d appreciate that.” He nervously chuckles.
“Don’t worry. I’ll cover you when you’re gone. I was starting to suspect something was related because your stories never matched up but I had no proof and no idea where to start. You’re... really not the best at it.” You say and pat his head. “So you save me, I save you. Sound fair?”
“That works for me.”
Time
Time had let Warrior lead the group because he seemed to be the most familiar with the terrain, even if he claims that this isn’t his Hyrule.
With someone capable taking the point, he hung back and let the other walk before him.
He had noticed that you were... weren’t yourself. Like you were hiding something.
You weren’t really interacting with anyone, and you kept your head down, something he hasn’t really known you to do. On another note, you were actually at the back of the group where he was currently stationed.
You always liked to be in the upper middle, talking and entertaining the younger ones and keeping up the group’s moral.
So the fact that you quiet and trying to go unnoticed, arms crossed and head down, worried him.
“Rupee for your thoughts?” He asked you as you walked.
You glanced up at him but you didn’t meet his eyes.
Something was wrong.
“I’m not really thinking about much of anything.” You admitted and shrugged. “I’m just a bit under the weather. I’ll be fine in a bit.”
“You don’t feel good?” Time frowns and stops the both of you with a hand on your shoulder. “Why didn’t you say something?”
“And slow down literally everyone.” You raise an eyebrow at him and he takes a quick second to catalogue your pink cheeks and red rimmed eyes.
Something is wrong.
“It’s just a headache.” You insist. “We’re already behind by how knows how long and it’ll go away on its own. I appreciate the concern but I don’t want to be a hinderance more than anything think I am.”
“For one thing, no one thinks you’re a hinderance.” Time says, taking off his gauntlet and he presses the back of his hand against your forehead, then your cheeks and the back of your neck. “If any one of those boys has told you that, you tell me and I’ll set them straight.”
He doesn’t miss the way you lean and hum in relief from his touch.
Truthfully, you’re actually burning up more than your skin seems to show and his concern sky rockets beyond the moon and back of this proverbial saying.
“I appreciate the thought but it’s not that important.” You say and he catches the way you frown in displeasure when he pulls away.
“Who told you that?” He asks in lieu of bringing your illness to light.
“No one.”
Time frowns some more and says your name in his stern commander voice that he knows you hate.
“No one.” You insist. “No one here anyway.”
From your previous adventure perhaps? Time puts the information away in the back of his mind and vows to vanquish the thoughts from your head when he can, but your health takes precedence right now.
“I think it’s about time to take a break anyway.” Time puts his gauntlet back on and begins to walk forward, leading you with a hand on the small of your back. “Maybe the Champion would be willing to make something for lunch.”
“Think he can cook something up for my headache?” You sigh and massage your temples in a way that seems reminiscent.
“That and more, if you ask him.” He replies easily and lets out a loud whistle that has become their cue to set up for the midday break.
It takes a while for your duo to make it to the others but at least you weren’t so far gone that no one would have heard Time’s signal.
You instantly take a step down and sit on the ground, cradling your head in a way that looks more like you’re crying than merely resting.
Time feels his heart clench at the sight and makes his way over to Wild. He tells them what he found out and asks if he can make something special for you. Something to keep you going.
Because as much as he wants to, this is not the place to stop for the night and with your pride on the line, he doesn’t want the others to crowd and bring more attention than you’d be comfortable with to your predicament.
“There’s a town about three hours from here.” Warrior’s speaks up, having eavesdropped on the conversation Time was trying to have on the down low. “We can hit it before night fall and let them rest in an actual bed for the night.”
Time nods and agree with the notion.
The others seem to catch on that you’re not feeling well and Time discourages them from getting closer than they should, less they get sick as well.
The break is quiet and uneventful for a change and Time is quick to get the group up and moving again when it’s over, choosing to keep you company on the way to the town and trying to make it as painless and comfortable for you as he can.
A part of him thinks that he should just swallow his pride and yours and carry you to the town as you deteriorate on the walk, but it’s not like you’d let him.
He’d just have to satisfy his concern when he eventually takes watch over your bed side, just to make sure you wake up feeling better.
Wind
Wind was sure that you’re hiding something.
You’ve been shifty eyed and nervous, jittery and uncollected.
So unlike the you that he’s come to know, rely on and appreciate.
It scares him a little, to see you so unlike yourself.
Wind makes a calculated guess on why you’re so weird after walking by your side for most of the journey. 
You’re hurt and trying to not let anyone else know.
He can tell by how you’re trying to curl in yourself and fold over but have to keep righting your position. You’re having to walk with one foot on your toes because if you tried any more normally, you’d be limping. You’re a bit slower than your usual walking pace but you’ve been arcing your stride a little to the side so that it matches in length what you wouldn’t be able to make up for in number of steps.
He’s almost impressed by how well you’ve been hiding it.
But it’s drowned out by the irritation of your stubbornness. You could have just told someone, anyone, and they’d help you in seconds. You wouldn’t have to be in pain or having to stop every other second to hide a wince or a grunt or-
Wind is this close to just stopping everything to scream in your face.
He takes a small glance over to you as you walk, and sighs. He knows you won’t listen to him if he tries to say something. And you’d probably be irritated at him instead for trying to make a fuss about it.
Wind doesn’t know what to do, or how to help you, without being pushed away.
You trip.
Wind is too shocked by the outcome to even try to stop you from falling face first into the ground. 
Ok, not face first. You manage to twist yourself just in time to avoid a face on collision, but you land on your side in the process.
Your bad side.
You yell in pain which alerts the whole group ahead and behind you. But you don’t seem to care about that anymore. You finally give into the urge and curl in on yourself, rolling over so that the ground is against your good side and nothing is irritating whatever hit you’ve been hiding.
Wind has to nearly smack himself out of it before he makes it to your side. He can hear the other catching up, their footsteps thundering mutely on the dirt but he’s more focused on you and where your hand seems to be cradling your side.
He’s quick to peel your hand off and lift your shirt.
You’re too shocked and stunned from the pain to stop him. Enough so that you’re brain doesn’t even register it, so you don’t fight back.
He gasps at the the sight and his stomach turns ever so slightly.
It’s a massive bruise, from up to your ribs that are highlighted in a toxic green, down to your hip and it’s not even black and blue. It’s so bad there’s more red on the surface than purple and it makes it look like you’re covered in blood even if the skin hasn’t been breached.
He knows what caused this. 
Two days ago the group had found themselves in the middle of a fight with not one, but three infected monsters and one of them had a nasty looking club. You were fighting with him and on one of them and had taken a hit directly to your side. It was strong enough that it sent you spinning through the air and right into a tree. He didn’t think much of it since you simply bounced back like nothing happened and proceeded to stab the thing through the skull, but if he tries hard enough, he think you hit the same side on the tree as well.
But you didn’t drink a potion, he doesn’t think he even saw you being healed by Hyrule. Which means that you just had this on you for so long and you just- weren’t going to tell anyone?!
Wind can feel his heart clench in tandem with his first, your shirt nearly ripping since it was trapped in between his fingers. “HYRULE!”
“What happened?” Warrior makes it to his side first and stops mid-step when he catches sight of it. “I’ll... go get the Traveler.”
There’s a few seconds in between before you shake off the pain and rip your clothes out of his grip, forcing yourself to get to your feet again.
Everyone is too shocked by what they’ve seen verses how you’ve acting that they almost let you but Wind has been next to you, watching you, and he still is. He catches that your arms are shaking as you put your weight on it, and when you try and compensate for your bad side, you nearly throw yourself over again from your bad balance.
Wind pushes you back down and keeps his hands on your shoulders so keep you from trying that again.
Hyrule takes his cue and slides on his knees until he reaches your side, his healing spell fluttering around his fingers and into the nasty bruise.
“Guys, I’m fine.”
“Cut the bullcrap.” Wind says, knowing that Twilight and Time are behind him with Sky not too far behind. He hopes they let that one slide at least. “It’s looks like you were stabbed fifty seven times and poisoned to top of it all.”
You look up at him then and sigh, the fight leaving instantaneously. “Whatever.”
“It’s not whatever!” He argues but you cut him off.
“It’s just a bruise. It’ll heal in a few days and nothing is broken. But because it’s you holding me down, I’ll let you heal me.” You try for a half smile but Wind thinks it falls flat. “I’m not even going to try and fight a pirate in my state. Take your victory for now.”
“You didn’t have to let it get so bad.” Hyrule scolds you and you don’t even have the decency of at least looking apologetic.
“It was the fall that really made it hurt.” You clench your jaw when your shirt gets lifted higher for Hyrule to heal the bruise on your ribs. “It was just awkward before that.”
“No it wasn’t” Wind frowns even harder. “You were walking funny. It hurt like hell back there too and for a while as well. Why didn’t you get treatment with the others? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Wind.” You say with as much patience you can muster. Your face begins to relax as the pain fades and the bruise changes to a more normal shade of purple with black spots. “We have no potions left. And Hyrule can only do so much healing in one go.”
“Speaking of...” Legend steps in and yanks Hyrule back by the shoulder, stopping the healing process.
Hyrule takes a minute to reorient himself and he steps away from a minute to catch his breath.
Wind takes another look at your injury and winces. While it looks significantly better than it did seconds prior, it’s not completely healed and would likely have to take more magic to heal on its own. They could just leave it there for the days it’ll take for it to heal naturally but Wind doesn’t like the idea of leaving you hurt for more than necessary.
“How were none of your bones broken?” Twilight asks in a quiet shocked voice.
“Oh no, there were many fractures, believe me.” Hyrule shakes his head. “Mostly minor but it’s crazy how they were able to still be standing, let alone walking. Didn’t any of that hurt?”
Wind takes a sharp breath and has to look away from you. 
You were really good at hiding it then.
He misses the pained look on your face as he turns away and can’t see the hand you reach out to him. “Wind?”
“No.” He gulps and stand up. “This isn’t ok. You can’t do this. Say something next time, or I’ll never speak to you again.”
The second he says it, he feel childish for coming up with that threat in particular and while he wishes that there’ll never be a next time, he knows better.
Occupational hazard and all that jazz.
Your face morphs into one of sadness and you take your hand back. “Ok. Ok. I’ll be better next time.”
He supposes the threat worked after all.
244 notes · View notes
plush-rabbit · 3 years
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The King with Golden Eyes
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Warnings: Noncon, Dubcon, Implications of drugging/hypnosis  Word Count: 5.4K A/N: I took liberties with his appearance and what ~powers~ he has, its kinda heavy?? idk
There’s a heavy weight against your neck. Tight and thick, a necklace of chains pushing you into the mattress, making your color deepen, darkening and veins pulsing and your body reacts before your mind, or your mind reacts before your body- you’re not entirely sure- and your heels dig into the mattress, harsh, ugly wheezing that sounds past your clenched teeth, your hands shaking and fingers flexing in the air, a crazed dance as they grab hold of whatever is on your neck, and tighten their hold, nails digging into something soft and silky. It finally registers to you that you can open your eyes, that the consuming darkness is because you have kept your eyes closed due to the horror that is of restricted air. But opening your eyes only adds to the horror.
The room is dark, shadows casted from the moonlight stretch into different shades and lengths against your room but what catches your eyes are the ones above you. Glittering in gold, unblinking and wide, peering into you with curiosity. Wide and innocent as whatever it is lays above you, weight against their hands as they choke you.
You cry and you beg for your life to be spared, vision spotting with a black that cannot be explained as it spreads like a dying film, burning against your vision and you cling desperately to the silk against your neck, arching your back and unable to push the person above you. You open your mouth to scream and a hand slaps your mouth. It makes your teeth rattle and ache and you can taste a faint hint of blood on your tongue.
Your room spins and memories blur, burning like film, spots clouding over faces as you take your final breaths. Your room, once smelling of citrus and peonies, is replaced by something richer, something that lays heavy above it, sophisticated and minty, sweet on your nose and stinging to your eyes.
“Please,” you whisper against the palm, trying to swallow the spit that has pooled in your mouth, trying to keep it from bubbling past the corners of your lips. You hold on tighter to the hand, your movements grow weaker, heels and kicks losing their kick as you succumb to the lack of breath. Your vision grows bleary, the deep weight against your chest growing heavy, thoughts subsiding as fog moves in, piercing, glowing eyes that look into you and as your hands slip from the silk, sliding past the wrist and onto the soft curve of your chest. Your breaths grow weaker, a mere breeze compared to the deep, ragged ones before, vision flickering in and out and your final thought is nothing tangible, incorporeal and enough to make your head hurt.
As if waiting for you to give up, the hands leave your neck. They slide down and cup your hands, the soft fabric gentle against your hands as they hold them tenderly, flipping them over and tracing the lines over your palms with such ease.
Breath is slow to return to you. Your body and mind in too much pain, too much awareness and lack of cognitive thinking that you lay still on the bed, your hands heavy and they slip an inch, only to be held tighter, in a grip that makes you whine under your breath, heading moving in a slow shake and your lips mouth soundless words of denial.
Your eyes are closed and beside you, something dips, the space under your sides deepening and there’s a flash of light that glows behind your closed eyelids. Something dark flashes across your closed vision, making a gruelly shadow appear over your body. The color in your face lessens, returning to your normal shade as you lay under your attacker.
You try to collect your thoughts. There is nothing that comes to mind and everything comes to mind and it’s all too much, filling you with such a terrible headache that you truly did wish you had died. Limbs heavy and carressed by whoever is above you, fingers that dance below your wrist in a walts and stop short of the crook of your elbow, watching as your skin pulses and twitches under and the eyes burn holes into your skin.
“Do you know who I am?” The voice says in a whisper. You can hear him sigh in displeasure. The hand on your arm moves and rests against your neck, fingers poised as they press down and search for your pulse, feeling it light underneath their fingertips. “You’re still alive. I see no reason why you have the audacity to not answer a simple question.”
“No,” you choke out below a whisper. “I don’t.”
The hand leaves your neck, a soft caress as it moves across your skin and lifts into the air. You aren’t ready to open your eyes and deal with whatever it is that you have to deal with. You aren’t ready to see your attacker linger above you in all their intensity and ferocity. You don’t think you can handle whatever is above you.
“I have many names,” the person says in a slow, tantalizing voice. “Names that vary from region to region-” you slowly begin to open your eyes, brows furrowing when light meets your vision- “names that people worship or curse under their breath-” it gets easier to breathe with each passing breath- “names that most confuse for what it is they are trying to seek-” you take a sharp gasp and close your eyes, blinking them slowly as the person above you ficuses in- “for now, you may call me Overhaul.”
You look above you and once again, you are unable to breathe. Above you sits a creature, beak fused where his nose and mouth should be, the beak plated in magenta and gold, gold that glistens from the lamp and is polished and smooth, not a single scratch against it. Golden eyes peer down at you, glistening and following your every movement, tracing down your face and tilting his head as he reaches your lips, gloves on hands, white and pure, pristine and clean against the creature. He wears a dark green cloak that wraps and covers his body, sheer and thick material that spins around and wraps around his body and a mix of fur and feathers that form against the collar and tuft out in all directions, brushing against his pale skin that is unblemished. Slowly, a glove is removed, pinched between the beak and letting the fabric fall onto your chest. His hand is large, fingers slender and fluttering against the air. Scale-like gold sticks to his skin, flickering out as it nears his cheeks and grouping together the closer it gets to his ears, getting lost underneath his auburn hair.
A pale hand reaches towards you, slender fingers that reach out with nails that are stretched and sharpened, claws that tap against your flesh, black, inky paint that decorate them is bold against you. The hand is cold to the touch, making you flinch against him, nails piercing your skin and his head tilts, golden eyes wide as they watch scarlet beads against his claws, and he pushes himself forward, the tip of his beak is a soft brush against your lips.
“Such a pretty mortal,” he murmurs, his hand leaving your face, watching his index intently as your blood stills on his finger, bright against the inky darkness. “So fragile and delicate-” his eyes flickering back to yours- “so naive and doltish.” His tone is soft, words whispered in a single breath, condescending and making you flinch as he reaches for you again. He sighs and rises from his position above you, the bed silent as he slithers off, raising his arms over his head, the mix of fur and feathers on his coat brushing against his ears, eyes coming to a close. You watch with fear, hands gripped tightly on your blanket, your neck still too tight and much too warm, the weight of his hand still lingers. “Do you know what loneliness feels like?” He asks, cracking his neck- loud and unforgiving and it makes a sinking feeling in your stomach deepen when you realize what kind of force it must take to crack something of his compared to your own. You fail to answer and he sighs, it’s exhausted and bored, tired like he’s just tired of it all. “Come on, I asked you a question-” he waves a gloved hand around, and you wonder how the fabric doesn’t rip under his claws- “don’t make me repeat myself. I’m not a fan of that.” he has a disgusted look on his face, head tilted to the side, eyes narrowed dangerously and you nod your head. He gives you a raise of his brows, his bare hand flexing against his side, your blood splashing against your floor.
“I-” your voice comes off in a single breath, and you clear your throat, tears springing to your eyes- “I do- I know what loneliness feels like.” It’s such a silly question, so miniscule and something that is only asked and answered when you’re too sleep deprived to realize what you’re really asking, too sleep deprived to know that you’re being vulnerable in a way that really matters.
“No, you don’t,” he corrects, clicking his tongue with a disappointed look in his eyes.
You mimic him, shaking your head, your eyes distant. “No, I don’t,” you whisper.
“How could you-” he says the word like its poison on his tongue- “know what true loneliness is like? You’ve only been alive for a blink of an eyes while I’ve been here since-” his voice trails and there’s an odd spark on them- “since a long time.” He glances back at you and laughs softly, his hand curling over the top of your head and threading his fingers through you. “What is loneliness like to you?”
“I- It’s when you’re cold or uh,” you pause and you can’t seem to find the words to describe what loneliness really is. Have you truly felt it? Have you ever felt the loneliness that he so desperately wants to describe?
He laughs and it’s like the laugh an adult gives to a child, a laugh so pitiful and forced to make someone feel better and he gives it to you. He twists a piece of your hair around his finger, watching strands peek and unfurl with just a simple pull. “Of course you wouldn’t know,” he coos. His voice raises, booming and echoing against your walls and making a picture frame rattle. “You could never understand the loneliness that I felt. The emptiness that swirled in me, made my blood ice cold, fury, a white burning fire that scorched everything in its path-” he sweeps his arms out in front of him- “the solitude and boredom that I felt waking up everyday. The emptiness that made me broken,” his voice falls to a whisper, brows furrowed into a pinch, “an emptiness that won’t ever be fixed no matter how much time passes. One that physically hurts and makes me sick,” he spits out, voice low and menacing. His hands cover his beak, running down the golden grooves, glove against him and sweeping off, his bare hand following in motion and falling against his side. “You’ll never understand what true loneliness is.”
You don’t know if you should apologize to him for assuming that you could know what it is he felt. But there’s also the chance that he would hate your pity, that he would hate to be pitied by a mortal. You’re tired and scared, mind foggy the more that you look at him, the gold on his body shimmering against the dim glow of your lamp and making you squint as you gaze among him. You want to fall asleep, but you’re too terrified to do so, unable to move, unable to respond to his rant about what it means to be lonely.
“But I don’t have to be lonely anymore,” he comments and his hands are wrapped around your forearms. “Do you want to know why?”
You nod your head. “Yes, please.” You don’t want to. You’re too afraid of the answer. There’s only one reason why he would show up to you, why he would make his presence known. His hands tighten around you, pulling taut against your skin and imprinting himself there and his skin burns. It’s cold and freezing, making you wince, fear in the back of your mind that his hand will get stuck against your warmth and it’ll have to be pulled off with little care towards your own safety.
“Because I have you.” He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world, something so simple and easy to understand. The fog that settles in your mind turns thick, unable to be rid of and making your eyelids droop, your vision blurring and when you yawn, tears forming and clinging to your lashes when you close your eyes, only to open them and find that his beak gone, replaced by what a human looks like. And slowly the fog dissipates. “I forgot how delicate mortals are to Gods. My apologies, dear.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and when his hand comes into view, the claw is filed, a regular nail in its place, black and normal looking and you’re completely terrified.
“I don’t know what to think,” you whisper. You really don’t. There’s too much information to process with a mind that is barely starting to lose its fogginess.
He smiles at you, pleased with your truthfulness. “Of course you don’t.” He sits at the edge of your bed, holding your hand in his. “You see,” he starts off slow, grabbing your finger in his hand, “I am known as Overhaul- ruler of the Underworld- and for far too long I have been alone. Emptiness and loneliness filling me like a disease and infecting every inch of my body with a pain that won’t go away no matter what I do. But-” he curls your finger and rubs over the nail- “one day, I found you.” His smile is twisted, lips stretching upwards, teeth exposed in a cruel joke of a grin, almost wistful and fully bone chilling. “You were gathering flowers for a friend I funeral I believe. You were out in a field, your dress bellowing in the wind, basket in hand and despite the tragic event, you still had this smile- small, like you were remembering the good times that you had with your old neighbor and well- the way you decided to just spend the rest of your days holed up in your room, too distraught over the fragile life of a human- really now, there’s no reason to cry,” he murmurs, wiping away a tear, catching it on his thumb. “They were old- they were going to die eventually. There is no reason to cry over such a fleeting life-” he waves his hand in the air- “now as I was saying, you were just so alone.” he pauses and tilts his head. “Huh,” he breathes, “perhaps you do know what it’s like to be lonely. No one visited you did they? They all tried to comfort you but they didn’t care. You cried over some lady that was meant to die and-” the smile reaches his eyes and it makes them glow- “you were alone. And so was I.” He holds your face in his hands. “But not anymore.”
Tears flood in your eyes, burning and spilling over, slipping into his palms and making your vision blurry. “I don’t want this,” you breathe out, still against his touch. “None of this is making sense and I-” You’re quieted with a hand that covers your mouth.
“See, I’m not asking you. Of course, you wouldn’t understand or it would take you longer. If I had to be honest, I wasn’t exactly thrilled at what you made me feel either, but here we are.” He sucks in a deep breath. “You’ll understand eventually. You’re going to have to.”
“Please O- Overhaul,” his name is thick on your tongue, “I- If you’re the ruler of Underworld then you should be able to have any- someone who isn’t a mortal. Someone with a fragile life and- and-” you don’t know what else to say. You can’t reason with him. As human as he looks right now, you can see the gold that still adorns his skin, the coldness of his body that makes you flinch, his sharp teeth that are too pointed to be human and the way that his eyes remain bright, glowing even in the light.
He clicks his tongue. “I see no reason why I have to look elsewhere when I already made my decision.” His hands grab at your blanket and he pulls it close to him, your bare legs pricking with bumps and he ignores your gasps and attempts to grab at the blanket, yanking it out of your hands with a simple tug. “Like I already said, I’m not looking for your consent with this. I’ve made my decision already and I’m not changing it to some other mortal that isn’t worthy.” The blanket is folded and he raises from the bed, placing the blanket on a spare chair beside your bed. He turns to you, his shoulders squared and the other glove slipping off of his hand and disappearing into the green folds. “I don’t have to threaten you-” he steps towards you, heels clicking against your floor- “I rather not deal with the mess.” He kicks his shoes off and places them in a neat line, coming to straddle you, his knees against your sides. “I’m not a fan of mess so don’t make me do something that will only result in my anger.” He looks down at your bare legs and with a small push of his hand in between your thighs, your legs open, your gown barely covering what is to be hidden from viewers. “You mortals commemorate events, don’t you? Something to show the love between said lovers?”
“Oh god,” you gasp out, chest heaving and your hands coming to cover your eyes.
“Funny,” he chuckles, “but there’s not a god who’s going to meddle in my affairs.” He flashes you a smile, innocent and wide, lips curled over his teeth and eyes closed. “See, I have a habit to be rather intense.” His eyes open and all pleasantries have vanished, leaving a hungry look in his eyes. “Now, I want to make sure that tonight is perfect. It is our first night together after all.”
As if holding a mind of their own, the robes slither off of him in groups, strands and ribbons mixing in and slipping off, the feathers falling down his back and disappearing before they reach the middle of his spine. He is bare above you and he looks intrigued as he stares at you, bottom lip trembling as you mouth an old prayer, not daring to look at whatever is in front of you and he sighs, boredom laced into the air. He grabs your legs, hooking them over his arms and pushing them close to your chest, your core hidden under your underwear.
“I didn’t want to have you less than cognitive during our first time, but if you refuse to look at me, there’s only so much I can do.” The air around electrifies, sizzling and crackling, the pressure rising and making you feel like you’re about to burst until it drops and everything returns to normal, your mind growing heavy and hands slipping down the side of your face, palm face towards the ceiling and fingers curled inwards. “The effects will dull over time but for now-” the beak is solid, strong and sturdy as it brushes against your cheek- “you’ll feel heavy and slightly aware of what your surroundings.”
Your core, once protected by a single piece of cloth, is exposed, meeting the cool air and your body reacts, heat pulsing and flexing against nothing as he runs a hand down the slit, feeling your bundle of nerves tense under the stranger’s attention.
“Please,” you murmur, “I can’t- you can’t-”
“Oh?” Gold flickers out, long lashes fluttering in disbelief. “Is the mortal commanding me now?” He gives you a tired sigh, shaking his head softly. “Little human,” he says gently, “you really have no say in this matter. You see, alongside my loneliness came boredom and nothing quite pleased me the way it should, but I’ve watched you for quite a while at this point and I know how you would go under the blankets and have your hand slip between your folds while you clawed at the bedsheets.” A hand traces against your inner thigh, the feeling soft and ghostly as he continues to talk. “Such a high libido for such a little thing. Always before the dead of night and washing yourself right after- so cute and clean.” He dips his head, the beak barely grazing above your sex and you hear him take in deep breath. “I could always smell your sex. Sp intoxicating and abundant in the air. To be honest, I’m surprised with how long I lasted before I finally came in.”
Your words of plea fall onto deaf ears as a slender digit is pushed inside of you, moving experimentally inside the gummy walls. “Overhaul,” you choke his name out, “please.” Tears fall over the curve of your face and spill onto the pillows as he adds another finger, curling and petting them inside of you, drool pooling in the back of your mouth.
“I was going to kill you. Put you in my realm but then I wouldn’t be able to feel your warmth,” he muses, twitching his fingers inside, head tilting at the soft shucking noises that emit. “I didn’t know humans can get so wet,” he comments, pulling his fingers out, watching in fascination as your essence sticks and breaks apart as he pulls his fingers. “A work of art,” he mumbles, staring at your sex.
His digits are pressed inside of you, slender fingers that move expertly inside, massaging against your gummy walls. Your body reacts to the stimulus, mind fully against it as you let out a sob. Your legs kick out, nudging against his, your hands curling into soft fists where red blooms as you tighten them only to loosen as he presses his fingers deep within you.
“I don’t want this,” you sob, turning your head to look away from him, vision blurring and images dragging around in a lag. “I’ll do anything else, please, just not this.” You let out a shuddering breath, high pitched and shaky, chest heaving as tears spill and sully your face.
His eyes meet yours in a lazy roll of the eyes, a thin brow raised as he holds a hand in the air. “You see,” he starts with a drawl, “as much as I enjoyed your muffled moans, I’m not one to really care about your pleading. So either you shut your mouth or-” his hand flexes turning to a shade of red, dark and pulsing with black lines running through him, thick and thin, twisting and intersecting with the other lines- “I have to show you just how awful I can really be.”
Your eyes widen in fear, feeling the air sizzle around him, practically feeling the power that courses through him. The arm is thick, muscles protruding with claws that mimic the color of his skin, shape and flexing against the air. Snippets of black veins reaching past his beak and coursing through his face in a mask, creasing as he narrows his eyes at you, his beak slowly opening and drool spilling out. You yelp when it touches at your thighs, sizzling and searing into you, your muscles flexing, back arching as you try to kick your leg in a desperate attempt to get the drool off. The monstrous hand is placed against your thigh and wipes the drool off, and you watch as it morphs back into a regular hand. You slowly close your mouth and eyes, nodding your head.
“That’s a good girl,” he praises, voice sultry, and his beak stretches, pulling into what you assume to be a grin. His fingers flex inside of you, curling and prodding against your walls, watching your face scrunch up, tears beading against the corners of your eyes as you contract around him, suckling his digits further into your body. “You see, you're already enjoying this.”
The pressure forms quickly. It’s searing hot, budding and blooming in your lower belly, a tight coil as it wraps around and pulls you further, arousal leaking past your lips, making you shine in a pale glow. You grit your teeth, breathing harshly through your nose, rolling your lips in order to keep your cries muffled, your hands clawing against the sheets, twisting them until your wrists hurt, aching and clit pulsing as he continues his assault.
“You’re close, aren’t you? Your scent when you reach your little high is something I won’t forget.” He takes a deep breath or air, head tilted upwards, his beak parting slightly and thin strands of drool roll against the appendage. He comes down with a bob of his head, eyes half lidded and darker. “I’m sure that it feels good, so why don’t you thank me?” You shake your head, biting your bottom lip, whining under him as you try to get a control on your body. “No? You see princess, I’m only being good to you so I can go in easy but you’re already stretched enough. So either you thank me and I let you reach your high or you keep being an ungrateful brat and I’ll make sure that I reach my own high.” The fingers inside of you stop moving, slipping out leisurely.
“No,” you breathe out, clenching at your sex, feeling arousal slip past your quivering hole. You cover your mouth with your hands, brows furrowed and body shaking.
His fingers pinch at your bud and you cry out. “Beg for it.” You give him a horrified look, mouth parting open in disbelief. “Beg for your King to make you feel good-” he leans close to you, beak grazing above your cupid’s bow- “and I promise to make my subject pleased.”
You keep your lips shut tight, eyes pinched together as the headache swirls to a stop, heavy and dull against your frontal lobe, eyes heavy from glancing at him, breaths coming to a shallow, slow stop. The tightness in your belly dissipates, flowing into nothing and leaving you tense. You whine as you feel his hands hold onto your thighs, a soft brushing of his nails, your essence trailed and against your warm skin.
“I suppose you’re going to stay quiet.” He doesn't wait for a reply, grabbing at your legs and pulling you close to him. Your heat is flushed against something rigged, something that is hard and pokes against you. “Shame. But you’ll beg for it in due time-” his beak nuzzles against your neck, the sharp tip pointed against your pulse- “we both know that.”
You’re left breathless as something firm is pushed inside of you, expanding against your walls and filling you deep, a heavy groan that reaches your ears and mixes in with your whines of pain, hands twisting and pulling taut against the sheets, your breath coming out in harsh puffs of air through your nose.
“”S hurts,” you mewl, “Over- Overhaul,” his name breaks against your tongue, “it hurts.” Tears flood your eyes and spill over in heavy, warm trails.
“I did tell you to beg for it and you were the one who denied my offering of pleasuring you-” his breath is warm against your flesh, fanning across you, the beak is solid against you, poised and sharp as it moves against the sensitive area of your neck- “you only have yourself to blame.”
He pushes himself deep against you, hissing through his beak, eyes clenched shut, a hand gliding up to your chest and gripping at a breast painfully, the other coming to hold himself up, palm flat against the bed. You try to squirm away, twisting and turning your body, your words slurring together and getting choked up as he ruts against you. He pushes himself deep, your walls molding and entrance burning with an unfamiliar pain as you’re forced to widen around him, molding into his shape.
“Overhaul, please-” you push against his chest, eyes stinging with fresh tears, throat raw- “I’m sorry. It hurts.”
He coos near your ear, the tip of his beak creating a thin cut that runs below your jawbone. “Now you know better,” he sighs, rolling his hips against yours, the tip of his cock hitting against your cervix. “You see I’ve bred many before you, so-” his voice turns into a soundless moan as he feels your walls tighten- “tell me, do you think you could produce an heir?”
“No,” you gasp, pushing harder against his chest, “please- no.”
“You’ll be a lovely mother,” he praises. “Full of my child and tits full of milk, ah,” he groans, head rising and beak pulled apart, thin and thick strands of clear saliva stretch from the top and bottom beak. “A sow made for breeding.” He makes an attempt at a laugh, rich and broken by cawing. “A beauty all for me.” His beak presses against your lips, the top of his beak presses between your lips, parting them, a slimy, heavy tongue slipping past and filling your mouth, drool forming and spilling between the corners of your lips and when he looks up he has a smug look, brows raised and eyes glinting. “While I’m not a fan of spilled fluids, I must say that the drugged out look suits you nicely,” he comments cooly, hips never slowing as he searches for his release.
“Overhaul,” you sob, your hands falling from his chest and fluttering over your mouth, wincing at the stickiness that is your drool. “I can’t- Too much.” The pain subsides, dulling for a moment as pleasure overtakes, your body choosing to enjoy what the God above you wants, fluttering and tightening around his shaft. You feel as if you’re about to leak, bursting at the seams, your core tight and pulsing, muscles tightening as you can feel the edge of it lap around your sex. “Please-” your eyes roll to the back of your head, your mouth stretching open and you begin to arch your back- “it’s too much,” you wail behind your palms.
“There’s the pretty girl,” he croons, thrusting deeper against you. “Obedient and pretty. What a good little thing.” He continues to move inside of you, cock heavy and flooding you with warmth as clicking sounds fill the room. His eyes come to a close, brows twitching as he reaches his edge, essence dripping past your leaking core and wetting the sheets below. “I can’t wait to see your belly swell,” he says in a gentle voice, the tight grip against your breast releasing and going to curve over your stomach. “It’ll be a sight to see,” he murmurs, head tilting and eyes squishing into what could be a smile that reaches his eyes. “My human-” he slams against you- “filled with my seed-” he twitches his head as he thrusts against you, voice cracking and strained- “what a sight to behold,” he breathes out, stilling above you, warmth flooding inside.
You gasp, closing your eyes and biting the inside of your cheeks as thick discharge floods out of you, warm and filling, pushing deep inside of you until it can no longer fit and sliding out in slimy trails that make your legs twitch and cunt leak. You stay still, turning your head and flinching when his hand caresses your face.
“I’m no longer alone,” he breathes out, and the air around him comes to a still, the air lightening and you’re able to think without your thoughts being pulled and jostled. His lips are soft against yours, an innocent peck against your lips. “And neither are you.”
You look up, tired eyes meeting golden ones that shine and shimmer, glinting and glittering against the dim light, looking at you filled with promise and false love. He smiles delicately at you, body still pressed against yours and face held tenderly. He rests his forehead against yours, the shadow it creates is small and only darkens lightly, but his eyes still glow bright, gold and menacingly.
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xrcsesxtuliipsx · 3 years
Note
( ANONYMOUS: Can you do a tutorial for Fitoor? ) Sorry mate. Can't help myself. 😈
Here's your tutorial, anonymous, AKA @zealouslythinking AKA pain in my behind. lmao.
I'll be doing two like you requested.
This:
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And this: 
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Before I start, I’d like to say this. First rule of editing, (for me at least) respect your faceclaim’s skin color. Take some time to look through a few photos of the faceclaim and recognize her/his/their skin color. 
Also, look at the frames and see what colors you need to reduce to make the scene look normal. Trust me, it will save you a lot of headache down the line. Once you’ve done all that, you’re ready to proceed. 
I’m starting from the top gif. Select your curves, and because you’re reducing the reds, play around with the graph until you’re satisfied. This is my setting and the way my gif look after adding curves.
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Next, we’re using a photo filter. For the most part, if you have a fair skinned fc, the photo filter will solve your coloring issues. Here’s the settings I went with:
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Next, comes vibrance. Because this entire scene is red, I used vibrancy sparingly and stick to +45. 
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I’m adding brightness. Adding contrast on both ends. 
Tip: move the contrast arrow to the right to add more contrast, and to the left to lessen.
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You could choose to brighten the entire scene using brightness and leave this next part be, to save you time, but I prefer using levels to brighten my scenes. It gives me more control over the shadows when I use it. 
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Lastly, I feel like I need a bit more blacks to make the entire thing pop, so I added black via selective color:
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After this, all you need to do is smart sharpen and you’re done. 
2nd tutorial 
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For this one, you’re going to reduce the yellows. So go on to curves. I added a lot of blues and played around with the reds. Here’s my setting: 
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I brightened the scene a tad bit through levels next. 
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But her skin still looks a little too pink to me, so it’s on to selective color. 
I just added a bit of white onto the yellows and added black to reduce the graininess (another tip, if you have grainy looking gifs, try adding blacks)
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and we’re done!
Side note: this tutorial works better for Kat because she’s fair to begin with, for those with darker skin, it might come up looking washed out so you’ll need to be careful with the blues. Use it sparingly.  
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polaroid15 · 3 years
Text
With Great Power...
Chapter 5: With great power comes a lack of self-care
Summary: May gets sick and Peter works himself to the bone taking care of her. Turns out his powers don't prevent him from getting sick after all.
Read on Ao3 HERE
-------
May is sick. Peter is losing his mind.
He bites his nails down to stubs and holds back her hair when she pukes out everything he’s tried to feed her. He helps her into bed and sits by her door long after he hears her breathing even out.
He can’t sleep so he scrubs the bathroom clean. When that’s done he cleans the kitchen and does his laundry twice. He grabs a pillow and blanket and lays down by May’s door, assured by her heartbeat, and wakes her up at four in the morning to help her choke down two fever reducers.
By the time sunlight streams in through the windows, he feels dead on his feet.
It’s worth it though. May wakes up with a temperature three degrees lower than the last time he had checked it. She kisses his forehead and ruffles his hair before taking a shower. She eats the entire bowl of soup Peter gives her and falls asleep with her head on his shoulder while they watch a movie.
For the first time since she’d gotten sick two days ago, Peter feels like he can breathe. His eyes droop, then close, and he lets go. When he opens them again it’s dark and May is gone. There’s a blanket tucked securely around his waist.
“May?” he croaks, wincing at the pain in his throat. He fights with the blanket and falls in an uncoordinated heap on the ground. “May!”
“Peter?”
Feeling lightheaded in his relief, Peter follows her voice to her bedroom. From the light in the hallway he can see her peer up at him from a heavy mound of blankets. She’s okay. She’s fine. “It’s almost one in the morning,” she says.
“Sorry,” he says shakily, straightening himself on the doorway. “I woke up and you were gone-”
May’s eyes soften in understanding. She pats the empty space beside her. “Come here.”
Without hesitation, Peter listens. He crawls into bed and lays beside her. She rests a comforting hand on his forearm. “I’m feeling a lot better baby. Everything’s okay now.”
“Okay,” he echoes, a deep relief making his eyes water.
“Thanks for taking care of me.”
He turns his head to look at her, barely finding her eyes in the darkness. “You always take care of me.”
“We take care of each other.”
It doesn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep.
-----
When Peter wakes up again the room is bright and warm with sunlight. Soft rustling sharpens his awareness over to May’s vanity. She’s sitting at the seat, running her fingers through her jewelry and selecting a jade necklace. She notices him through the mirror as she clips it behind her neck. “Did I wake you? Sorry.”
“‘S okay,” he says, mind cloudy with sleep. “You goin’ to work?”
“Yeah baby. I can’t miss any more time.”
“Oh.” Peter blinks to try to clear his vision and frowns when the effort is unsuccessful. “You feel okay?”
“Well enough,” she assures. She stands with a smile and grabs her purse. “You get some rest today, alright? Promise?”
“Promise,” Peter says. “There’s- there’s a gatorade in the fridge. Take it with you.”
May makes her way to his side and ruffles his hair. Her smile falls into a frown. “You feel a little warm. Are you feeling okay? I thought you couldn’t get sick-”
“Just hot from the blankets,” he says, though the more he thinks about it-
“Okay. Call me if you need me.”
With one final look of measured worry, May turns and makes her way towards the kitchen. He hears the fridge open before the front door does and smiles.
The apartment is quiet.
So quiet-
The next time Peter opens his eyes his stomach twists violently. With a watering mouth, the only thought he can muster is uh-oh, before he’s scrambling over May’s sheets to get to the bathroom. He barely makes it, catching himself by his forearms before heaving over the bowl.
Just like May, it never seems to end. He shivers and sweats and wishes she were here to help him. When it finally eases he collapses back against the bathtub and doesn’t have the strength to flush the toilet.
God, he’s thirsty.
It’s the only thing to get him onto his knees. After days of lecturing May about the importance of fluids, Peter can’t be one to ignore his own advice. He reaches for the tap and misses it by a mile. His reflection swims dangerously in front of his eyes.
“Tha’s not good,” he slurs to himself.
And then his eyes roll back up into his head. He isn’t awake long enough to feel himself hit the floor.
------
“Damn kid and these damn grey hairs-”
Tony grumbles to himself all the way from his empty lab to his car, and then all the way to the Parker’s apartment. The kid had been scheduled to come over hours ago and had never showed. It was more than unusual in itself, let alone the seven missed calls and thirteen unanswered text messages.
He checks on Karen, but Peter hasn’t been in his suit in days.
He texts May, but she doesn’t respond either.
He tries valiantly to convince himself that it’s nothing, that there’s probably a very safe and healthy explanation as to why Peter is dodging him. It’s not like he’s the kid’s father, for God’s sake. But no matter how hard he had tried to work in the lab alone the kid’s absence had made him too sick to his stomach to stay focused.
So here he is. The seventh floor. He knocks loudly at Peter’s door and frowns at the silence. If Peter’s wearing his watch, he should be here.
He should be here.
He knocks again.
Again.
With a dry throat, he tries to call the kid one last time. When his enthusiastic voice fills Tony’s ear via voicemail he shoves it back in his pocket and spends the next five minutes picking their lock.
Thankfully, no one sees.
“Hello?” he calls when it opens. The apartment is dark. “Peter? Are you here?”
There’s no answer. Pushing aside the invasivity of it all, he steps into the Parker home and shuts the door behind him. “Pete?”
Tony flicks on the lights and doesn’t bother to take off his coat. He heads towards Peter room but is stopped in his tracks long before he can reach it.
Because the bathroom door is open. Because he sees Peter sprawled out lifelessly on his back halfway into the hall. The fear that overtakes him at the sight is enough to freeze him until he sees Peter’s chest moving up and down in short, labored breaths.
“Kid!”
Tony’s knees ache when he slams them down beside the boy. He grabs at Peter’s fever-hot face and slaps lightly at his cheeks. “Wake up Peter. Come on buddy. This isn’t a good look for you.”
Groaning, Peter opens his eyes to slits. He looks up at Tony as if he’s the angel that’s come to bring him up to the pearly white gates and shudders against a cold sweat. “Tony?”
A delirious laugh bubbles out from his chest. He smooths back Peter’s hair and tries to ignore how his heart skips a beat at the heat rolling off his skin. “It’s Tony now huh? After all this time and you choose now?”
Peter’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. He shakes his head. “Wha’s happ’n?”
“You passed out on the bathroom floor.”
“Wha- why‘re you here?”
“Because you passed out on the bathroom floor dummy.”
Peter whines, his face paling behind the red hue of his fever. “Feel sick.”
“I know buddy. I’m sorry. I’m here to help. Where’s May?”
Peter considers this for a long time. “Mm. She’s sick too. Went to- went to work.” As if answering leeches all his energy, Peter’s eyes close and his head lolls. Tony shakes him until their eyes meet again. “Christ kiddo. You’re scaring me. I thought you weren’t supposed to get sick.”
Eyes shining with tears, Peter’s frown grows. “Tony.”
“Okay, we gotta get you up. Can you sit up? When’s the last time you drank something?”
“Don’ know. Tried. Fell. Don’ feel good.”
“I know Petey. I’m so sorry. Let me help you-”
Peter cries out before he can finish. The last of the color drains from his face quite suddenly and he goes boneless against the linoleum. Tony feels for a pulse and nearly cries at how erratic it feels against his fingertips.
“FRI! Call- call an ambulance.”
-----
Hours later, Tony sits beside May in Peter’s hospital room. The smell of antiseptic is giving him a headache and he holds his head in his hands, willing for the nauseating anxiety to leave with the pain in his skull.
Peter is okay, he tells himself. He’s fine. Stop worrying.
After some light threatening, the ambulance had arrived at the Parker residence in record time. Tony could barely keep up with their hurried descent to the street and had lost time in the ambulance. He had followed Peter as far as he could and then slid down the wall when the boy had disappeared.
Someone had taken a picture of him on their phone camera. He was too exhausted to yell at them.
He had called May. She was at his side in a matter of minutes.
She still is. Tony spares her a sympathetic glance. She’s sitting with her head resting on Peter’s arm, a wad of crumpled tissues held tight in her fist. None of them had thought Peter could even get sick, that it was outside the realm of possibility.
Turns out, he definitely can.
May catches him staring and offers a watery smile. “Thanks for taking care of him Tony.”
“It was nothing.”
“He was fine when I left. I was nowhere near this bad. If you hadn’t shown up-” she chokes and looks away.
Feeling a similar tightness in his own throat, Tony coughs to clear it before responding. “He’s okay now. That’s what matters.”
May nods slowly, but guilt still clouds her features. “He didn’t really sleep when I was sick. He spent every second taking- taking care of me.” She pauses, her mouth hanging open in unspoken words. Then, “when Ben and I found out his parents had died we were terrified. I never thought I’d be able to love him as much as I do. I don’t know what I’d do without him Tony. I swear to God. I’d die if I lost him.”
That makes two of us, Tony thinks. “He’s a good kid.”
“Too good sometimes.”
With great power-
Tony sighs. He stares at Peter’s lax face and feels something swoop in his stomach. “What can I do to help?” he asks.
May smiles weakly and threads her fingers through Peter’s hair. “You’re everything to him,” she says quietly. “You’re his idol, his hero. You’re there for him, Tony. You show up. That’s all I can ask for. You’re already helping.”
Biting hard on his cheek keeps his expression neutral, but he can’t prevent the flush that spreads across his face. He hopes May doesn’t notice. “He has the whole world on his shoulders. I wish he didn’t.”
“He’s a teenage superhero,” she laughs, though without humour, and hangs onto him more tightly. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever said that out loud before. My nephew is a teenage superhero.”
Tony chuckles along, rubbing his hands over his temples. “He can stick to walls.”
“Why- why the hell do we let him do this?”
Humming a non-answer, Tony shrugs. May’s eyes soften. “Ben would’ve been proud of him,” she says in a whisper. “I think- I think that’s why he does it. And why I let him. Ben would be proud.”
With great power, comes great responsibility.
“You’re a good Aunt.”
“Mm. I certainly try.”
“He’s going to be okay.”
“I know.”
Slowly, between them, Peter stirs. He blinks up at the ceiling as May smooths his hair back. Tony tries to ignore the way his heart skips a beat, or how he leans forward in his chair. “You back with us baby?”
Peter’s mouth turns up in a loopy grin. He stares at the ceiling as if it’s spinning. “Woah. Wow. Dreamt I was- I was Spider-Man. ‘S so cool.”
They both laugh. Peter smiles too even though he clearly doesn’t understand the context of the humour. He looks at May and some clarity leaks into his eyes. “You ‘kay?” he asks.
“Yeah baby. I’m okay. All thanks to you.”
“Yay,” he breathes. His head swivels heavily in Tony’s direction and his smile widens, which obliterates that last of Tony’s resolve to stay as stoic as possible. He feels his eyes well with tears. “How ya feeling kiddo?”
“High.”
“Yeah I’ll bet.”
Peter yawns and sinks further into the mattress. As his eyes flutter he says, “tired. Larb you guys.”
I larb you too, kid. More than you know.
The chairs suck, but May and Tony don’t leave his side.
Not even for a second.
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Text
Shuffle Playlist - Rewrite - Part of Your World - Harry Hook x Reader - part 6 - Makeovers and little sisters
guess who wrote this part last night and forgot about it the entire day~ me
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 your outfit:
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=
Mal stepped over a pile of green sludge as she carefully dodged a passing isle resident, they turned to snarl at her but gasped as she turned back and bared her teeth, forcing her bit of magic left in her to let her eyes glow.
The resident bolted off, not wanting to stay around the daughter of Maleficent any longer. Mal sighed, shaking her head slightly to rid of the small headache that had suddenly appeared.
“note to self, glowy eyes hurt here” she muttered to herself, she had forgotten that pushing that bit of magic up into her head had caused her headaches on the isle.
She stopped in front of Curl up and Dye, brow-raising at the sign on the door.
‘closed until midnight’
She huffed, glancing behind her to see if anyone was watching before pushing open the door and stepping inside. Immediately the low sound of music bombarded her senses, the smell of chemicals swirling around her, and the vision of paint splatters all over the walls and floors making Mal laugh.
Dizzy had been busy while she had been gone. She drew back the plastic curtains used to keep cold in those big ass refrigerators at grocery stores and peered into the hair salon, smiling as she watched dizzy spin around with her broom and dance while she swept up hair from the night before.
Mal got a good look at Dizzy’s attire as she moved about the room, dark forest green overall shorts splattered with dye and paint with multicolored pins decorating the torso, faint purple ripped leggings, a dull faded pink t-shirt underneath, bright yellowish gold-painted gloves with metalwork bits and bobs glued on, dark green sneakers with painted gold fabric laces, her family crest ring on her left pointer finger, and her usual glasses and headphones on her head. Mal smiled again, remembering Evie always trying to encourage Dizzy to create her own style than to always wear that sickly green and yellowish colored dresses her mother always made her wear.
It had looked like she had followed Evie's word. Dizzy did one last spin, her eyes going wide as she finally spotted Mal. “MAL!” she squealed, making the older teen wince a bit from the high pitch. Dizzy ripped off her headphones from her ears and tossed them around her neck, giving a wide grin at the blonde-haired Mal. “is Evie back too?!
Mal gave the young teen a shrug and shook her head “no, just me” she hummed, suppressing the smile she wanted to give to dizzy as the girl's shoulders dropped in disappointment. She took another look around the salon, letting one of her old smirks grow on her face “you’ve really gone all out here….looks good” Dizzy’s downturned eyes turned to a bright grin as she looked around at her work.
“forgot you guys don’t open till midnight….think you can break a few rules?” Dizzy pursed her lips and set the broom on an empty chair, walking over to Mal and grabbing onto her long-curled hair.
“the blonde with purple tips?” Dizzy sighed, giving Mal a bored look “completely washes out your face and I can't even tell your skin and hair apart” Mal let out a little snort and shook her head. Dizzy grabbed her arm and lead her to one of the empty salon chairs and spun her around. “how far can I go?” she hummed, leaning on her palm and smirking down at Mal.
Mal shrugged “honestly, do whatever, just make it….me” she hummed, smiling as Dizzy squealed in excitement and walked over to her huge bottles of chemicals and picked up the dark bubbling purple one. She spun around, grinning as Mal gave her a slightly nervous look.
“let's do this” Dizzy giggled, skipping over to Mal and setting the dye onto the table next to the chair and grinning down at her. Mal pressed her lips together tightly as she looked up at the scheming young teen.
“don’t burn me” she muttered, closing her eyes and slumping in the chair, preparing to let Dizzy do whatever she wanted.
“I won't ~”
=
You grunted as you struggled to put on the black ripped up skinny jeans you had bought two months ago, while they fit perfectly it was always a hassle to get them past your hips.
“come on you stupid- AH!” you tumbled over and hit the carpet with a loud thump, leaving you on the floor groaning in pain.
You shook your head and pulled at the hem of your jeans, laughing in victory as they finally slid over your hips and were buttoned over your stomach.
You stood from the floor and grabbed your black combat boots, quickly shoving them on and tying them. You paused, looking down and cursing, the entire time you had somehow forgotten your shirt.
You zipped up the boots and rushed over to your dresser, pausing as you saw one of Harry's rare-non ripped tank top hoodies sitting folded in your dresser. You snorted as a dumb thought came to mind, but decided to go through with it.
“time to cosplay Harry” you laughed to yourself, sliding on the large tank top and flipping the hood down. You grabbed your skull belt and slid it into the pants loops and buckled it. You stopped for a moment, looking at yourself in the standing mirror sitting next to your dresser, and crossed your arms. “It's missing something” you hummed, tilting your head.
It hit you a moment later and you grabbed your copy of Harry and Gil's dorm room key and bolted across the hallway, unlocking their door and running over to Harry's closet, grabbing one of his old black and red leather isle jackets. You smiled at the spray panted Hook symbol on the back and slid the slightly heavy jacket on, it somehow fit you perfectly, but you guessed it was because it was one of his jackets from when he was younger, and more around your size.
You grabbed one of his sets of leather gloves and slid them on, taking it upon yourself to also raid his ring stash. You smirked at the tentacle ring, and slid it onto your pinkie, it was probably your favorite one besides his ruby ring with the black band.
You looked into Harry's mirror and smirked, now you were ready. Your shoulders dropped as something silver and metal caught your eye in the mirror, you spun around, gasping as you saw Harrys hook sitting on his bed, next to his sword. “that idiot” you groaned, smacking your forehead with your palm and walking over to his bed and grabbing the precious hook and his sword. You slid the hook through your belt loop and looked around for his sword's sheath.
You found it resting against his dresser, you grabbed it and slid the sword into it, before taking off your jacket and slipping the sheath around your shoulders and letting it rest on your hip. You slid the jacket back on and bolted out of his dorm, running to Evie and Mals where the blue-haired teen was making Bens isle gear.
“Guess what the fucking idiot left!” you yelled, taking the hook from your belt and waving it in the hair. Gil and Jay face palmed as they locked their eyes onto the weapon.
Evie took one look and groaned, holding her face in her hands and shaking her head “and from the looks of it he left his sword too” she sighed, pointing at the cutlass that rested on your hip.
“fucking yep!” you yelled, waving your hands in the air and beginning to pace the room “so now he has no fucking weapons with him and I have no fucking clue what's going to happen to him! What happens if someone finds him and he can’t-“
“(y/n)!” Gil yelled, stopping you in your tracks by stepping in front of you and grabbing your shoulders “Harry knows how to take care of himself, he'll be just fine, he also knows how to stay out of trouble…he never does it but he knows how.” He patted your arm and released you, turning to Evie as she asked him to grab some extra gold fabric.
You let out a raspberry and flopped on Mal's bed, staring up at the ceiling as anxiety started to burrow into your mind. You did your best to ignore it since Harry was very much capable of taking care of himself.
He would be just fine.
Just fine.
=
Dizzy swung the chair back around, facing the once again purple-haired Mal towards the shattered mirrors. Mal stood, leaning down to look into one of the cracked shards and squinted at herself.
Her once mid-back length blonde purple-tipped hair had been dyed a lighter-toned purple than her natural color, now just at her collar bones in a blunt cut with her bangs in a side part and the right-side cascading down her face and brushing against her lashes.
ref:
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She looked like her but….there was something missing. She took a deep breath and hardened her features, her eyes sharpening and her jaw locking into a grimace “there I am” she hummed, standing up tall and spinning around to look at Dizzy, who grinned and threw her arms open in celebration.
“Voila!”
“Voila” Mal hummed in a dry tone, pulling out a stash of cash she had taken before she left Auradon and handed a $50 to Dizzy, who stared wide-eyed at Mal. “for me?” she gasped, gently taking the cash and holding it close to her chest.
“yeah,” Mal smirked, cocking her hip and crossing her arms “you earned it” Mal watched the younger teen as she skipped over to the register, only to be stopped by a black leather-gloved hand.
“hand it over you runt” Davy growled, his dark blue eyes staring threateningly into Dizzy’s. Jack the monkey giving the young vk a sharp grin. Dizzy’s shoulders dropped as she handed over the once new $50 and pouted as Davy turned to the register counter and tapped it with his knuckle. “the rest of it too, don’t want the crew trashin’ the place eh?”
Dizzy kept her eye on Jack as she walked around the counter and opened the register, taking what little money was left inside and placing it into Davys open palm. He hummed, giving a taunting bow to Dizzy and turning to leave.
“Considering you don’t got a crew I assume that your running errands for some dolt captain?” Mal taunted, smirking as Davy slowly turned to glare at her.
“well well, look whose back” he purred, walking closer to her and lifting Jack to sit on one of the empty chairs “how exciting!”
“…” Mal just rose her brow, moving her wrist slightly to unlodge her switchblade from her sleeve.
“and for your information, I run under the orders of Uma now~” he chuckled, reaching forward and brushing his fingers against Mal's hair “and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if I rough up her little enemy huh Jack?” Jack bounced excitedly and screeched, Davy yelped loudly as Mal suddenly grabbed his arm, twisting it behind his torso, pulled him up against her chest, and shoved her knife very close to the artery in his throat.
“touch me again and Uma will be down a man” she growled, feeling the headache return as her eyes glowed. Davy kept his eyes locked on hers, a drop of sweat trailing from his brow.
She slowly released Davy's arm and pushed him away from her, letting out a cold cackle as he stumbled over a chair and some of Dizzy’s products spilled over him. He sat up, his hair covered in pink and green shampoo as he glared at her. “this ain't over yet you imp” he snarled, holding out his hand for Jack.
The monkey leaped onto his arm and scuttled up to his shoulder, curling his tail around the pirate teen's neck. “you'll be sorry” he huffed, stomping out of the salon with a screeching monkey in his ear.
Mal rolled her eyes, walking over to Dizzy and tossing the cash she had pickpocketed back from Davy to the younger teen. “oh!” Dizzy gasped, the bright grin that had disappeared with Davy’s appearance coming back to light “thank you!”
“don’t mention it” Mal hummed looking in the mirror shards again and fluffing up her hair “oh and by the way” she walked close to Dizzy, leaning down to whisper in the girl's ear “Harrys here too, but don’t worry if you see him, he won't steal from you” Dizzy gave her an odd look “just wanted to let you know so you don’t freak out?” the younger teen slowly nodded and placed the cash into the register.
“Alright then, I’ll-where are you going?” Dizzy asked, watching ask Mal grabbed her backpack and made her way to the main door.
“back to my apartment, got nothing to do other to be there” Mal sighed, waving Dizzy goodbye and walking out of the salon, smirking as the residents that were walking around realized who she was, and scrambled to get out of her way.
She held her head high as she walked back to the hideout, yes, she might have been on the hell-like prison isle again, but she felt freer here than she had been in the past 4 months in Auradon.
=
Harry carefully looked around his empty dark apartment, not knowing if someone had claimed it after he left. He looked to his right, seeing one of his extra swords sitting by the door. He picked it up and flipped it in his hands, continuing to walk the large two-room apartment and keeping quiet to hear for any intruders.
“YOU’RE BACK!” Harry let out a yelp as someone slammed into his back and tackled him to the floor. He let out a low groan as the person who had tackled him giggled as she sat on his back.
“Hey CJ” he muttered, lifting his head and looking over his shoulder to see his little sister grinning down at him, her brown eyes alight with mischief. “aye, I’m back”
“haha! I told Harriet you were waiting for the right moment to strike! So where is it?! Where’s the wand” she started to palm around his jacket, searching for one of the only things that could break the barrier surrounding the isle.
Harry sat up, knocking CJ off his back and moving into his butt, crossing his legs and leaning against his knees “I’m not here fer tha’ CJ, in fact, tha’s not the plan anymore” CJ stopped in her attempt to continue searching his person, sitting back on her heels and staring at him with wide eyes.
Harry waited for CJ to yell at him for betraying her, but when she only stared at him in shock, he took his chance to explain everything. “look, CJ, I don’t have a way ta explain why I decided to turn meh back on evil, but I did, and I don’t regret it” he sighed, reaching out and holding onto CJs shoulders, watching as she slowly started to shake 
“but I promised five months ago I would get more kids off and that’s been unfortunately ignored by the council and beasty boy. I came here ta tell yeh I haven’t forgotten about yeh or Harriet, that I’m still going ta get yeh off the isle and away from da, I won't break meh promise to either of yeh.” CJ grabbed his arms and slowly took his hands off her shoulders, her eyes drifting to the floor.
“…it was that prissy Auradon girl wasn’t it” CJ snapped, her eyes snapping back up to glare into his “she turned you, made you go all goody two shoes” she snarled, yelling as she tried to stand but Harry wrapped his arms around her, easily pulling her back to the ground and into his lap “Lemme go you traitor!!! I trusted you! You were supposed to free us al-mmf!” Harry covered her mouth, shushing her.
“shut up! Let me explain what I can CJ, yes, (y/n) is one of the reasons I turned my back on evil, but she is NOT a prissy Auradon girl, she's one of the most badass lassies I've ever known, and I love her!” CJ stopped, slowly turning her head to look at him with wide eyes “I know yeh think I've betrayed yeh, but I didn’t, I betrayed da, that was it.” He stressed, shaking CJ lightly to get the point across “I realized I didn’t want da to be free, he’s a horrible person CJ, he deserves ta be here, but yeh don’t, Harriet doesn’t either, we”
 he pointed between the two of them “are not responsible for da’s actions and don’t deserve ta be punished fer what he’s done. Beasty boy agrees, and I've been trying for the last five months to get yeh and Harriet off the isle. I promise” he pulled CJ into a tight hug, hoping to convince her that he hadn’t betrayed her, or abandoned her. “I never meant ta leave you here”
It was a few moments of tense silence before CJs smaller arms wrapped around Harry's neck, her head coming to rest in the spot between his shoulder and neck “I believe you” she muttered, sniffing lightly. She and Harry sat in silence for a few moments, before CJ spoke again “you’ve changed.”
“fer the better” Harry muttered back “I’m still yer brother, and I haven’t changed in the ways yeh truly knew me, but I’m not the same as I was 6 months ago” he pulled back, giving his baby sister a soft smile, one she had only seen a few times in her life. She continued to stare at him for another moment before one of her usual shit-eating grins spread across her face. Harry mentally groaned as CJ tipped forward and shoved him to the ground
“Just because you changed big bwudda~” she teased, saying his title in a baby voice “Don’t mean the way I mess with you will….please tell me you still steal stuff? Like-you didn’t go full goody two shoes?” CJ pleaded, crossing her arms on his chest and pouting at him.
Harry snorted and  pushed her off of him, sitting up and smirking at her “you do!” CJ cheered, throwing her hands up in the air and throwing them around his torso “what's your biggest score?!”
“uhhhh, beasty boys crown” Harry smiled, remembering when he and (y/n) had decided that Ben's crown was a good thing to steal at 1 am when they were delirious from not sleeping. “no.way” CJ laughed, slapping him on the arm to encourage him to tell the story “what made you-?”
“(y/n) ‘n I were really tired from our history report at 1 am so she just suggested we take his crown and I agreed” Harry shrugged, snickering as CJ started to giggle so hard, she clutched her sides.
“ooooh my hades! That’s amazing” she snorted, letting herself fall on her side and grin up at Harry through teary eyes “…anything else?”
“(y/n) stole FGs wand a couple times?” Harry offered, falling back slightly as CJ sat up suddenly and grabbed his shoulders.
“SHE WHAT? WHY DID YOU KEEP THIS AMAZING INFORMATION FROM ME?! You want me to like her dont ya?! that’s all you had to say! I love her already when are you marrying her?” Harry felt his face flush and he slapped off CJs hands.
“I-CJ! We’ve-it’s only been six months since we started dating?! I only just admitted to myself that I love ‘er” CJ rolled her eyes.
“blah blah blah, those boradon heroes marry each other after knowing each other for five minutes, you’ve got six months, just use moms ring for her or something” Harry facepalmed and shook his head.
“CJ, I haven’t even told (y/n) tha’ I love ‘er yet, chill” CJ pouted and shoved at his shoulder.
“coward, she sounds awesome, and yet you wait to snatch her up, wait too long and I’ll lose a dope ass sister-in-law” Harry just stared at her blankly and pushed her face away from him.
“Alright, I’m done talking about tha’ ta yeh, where’s Harriet? I need ta talk ta ‘er too” CJ shrugged and stood from the floor, dusting her long scarlet jacket off.
“dunno, last I saw her was at school” Harry crossed his arms and rose his brow. “okay okay, she's hanging around her ship, the other side of Uma’s side of the Warf, the two had a truce for a couple months before well…” she gestured to him “you didn’t come back” Harry’s shoulders dropped and he shook his head.
“I didn’t mean ta leave fer so long, but beasty boy was distracted and the council was being assholes, I couldn’t do much about it” CJ rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder.
“and you’ve already apologized about it….which is weird and never ever do it again, or I will stab you” she snarked, giving him a sharp grin and spinning around towards his front door. “Harriet’s busy right now so you’ll have to wait until she's done with it”
“wha’ is she doin’?” Harry sighed, following after CJ and leaning against the doorway.
“uhhhh captain crew stuff, dunno, she didn’t let me hang around and stuck the twins on me” she pouted, glaring off at the building in front of his.
“Sterling n’ Skipper? How are they?” he asked, smiling as CJ gave him a simple thumbs up.
“They good….as good as a Smee kid can be, Harriet’s taken to make sure everyone knows they are under the Hook family’s protection, not even Davy messes with them.” Harry uncrossed his arms and his jaw clicked.
“Davy?” he muttered; he had been wondering about what the son of Barbossa was doing “what about Davy?” CJ sighed and gave him a look.
“He’s Uma’s first mate….” she waited for his reaction, winching as Harry's icy blue eyes turned dark and he clicked his jaw again.
“….Uma thinks I left ‘er don’t she?” he muttered, looking down at his shoes and gritting his teeth.
“yeah….” CJ hummed, sticking her hands in her jacket pockets as she rocked on her heels, watching as Harry clenched his fists so hard they shook “I’m guessing you’re gonna go talk to Uma now?”
“aye” he muttered, turning and grabbing his extra sword again, looking for its sheath “I’ll see yeh later”
CJ nodded and turned, quickly going down the stairs of the building and heading back to Facilier’s arcade to hang with Freddie. “don’t let dad see you!” she yelled behind her shoulder, nodding to herself in satisfaction as Harry yelled back.
“don’t plan on letting ‘im even know I’m ‘ere!”
CJ disappeared into the alleys, leaving Harry to finish gearing up and get ready to head to the chip shop.
He needed to explain something to his oldest friend.
-end of part 6-
Here it is~ part 6, imma keep this little explanation note thing short and just say, I know CJ turned her opinion around on (y/n) and Harry being “better” pretty quickly, but really, (or at least hopeful I've made it come across clearly) Harry hasn’t changed much, the only thing about him that’s different is that he has better coping mechanisms, mentally healthier, and doesn’t steal as much as he used to. And CJ would love anyone who steals from Ben and FG, no doubt.
Yes, I changed Mal's hairstyle for D2 cuz I hate that damn pink wig and it's cut so much, so I made my own hairstyle. Also, I hope I made Mal actually intimidating in the little Mal vs Davy thing because in the OG version with Mal vs Harry she's JUST kitten pouting at him as if it’s doing anything. So, I hope I did her justice while also showing that she's still softer due to being in Auradon. (but only for Dizzy)
Also, Davy and Harry will officially meet (or reunite) next chapter, hold on to your butts! It's gonna be a rocky ride! (don’t worry bout Harry against Davy tho, Harry’s been eating actual food so he’s physically much stronger now and could easily kick Davy’s ass even without his extra sword)
also first fic/chapter of the year~
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ajbwasntwriting · 3 years
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Daughter!Reader x Negan, Reader x Daryl: Chapter 2. Great Escape
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The previous chapter did rather well since I haven’t posted anything in years so here’s chapter 2. Shout out to my friend @theturtlesgohnnnng​ for reading all these chapters.
I’ll only post more chapters if previous chapters get a good reaction so if you enjoy this please heart it, reblog it, and/or reply to it. Interaction inspires.
The sunlight stirred you, activating your hangover with it. Luckily you only had the headache to deal with. Daily drinking will give you that benefit.
Waking up you were dressed in your F/C shirt and some jeans, with one combat boot still on your foot. They were worse for wear but they carried you everywhere since the end began. You put your other boot back on, grabbed the bottle from last night, and wondered out of your room, stretching as you walked. You walked into the wives’ quarters where they all sat drinking, talking, and doing whatever it took to fill the day. Your father’s newest plaything Sherry was at the bar, talking with Amber. You placed the bottle on the counter next to her
“You need more Vodka.” You turned to exit
“We wouldn’t if you fucked off” she muttered under your breath. You stopped walking, commanding the attention of all the wives. You twirled on your heels,
“What was that Sherry?”. Her face went bright red with embarrassment and she struggled to come up with a good excuse.
“She told you to fuck off” Frankie chirped up from the couch. Sherry began to shiver. She was new and didn’t know how to handle you just yet. She looked around the room in fear but no other wife was responding
“Is this true, Sherry?”
“I-...I just” she continued to stumble until you interrupted her.
“Don’t worry about it Sherry” you said sweetly before leaving, more interested in the thumping of your head than Sherry’s feelings. You made your way to the top floor kitchen which was always stocked for the convenience of yourself and the wives and took a bottle of water. ‘Fuck off, huh?...not a bad idea.’ you went to prepare yourself a proper breakfast for the first time in forever.
You stood just at the edging of the forest, bow and arrow in hand, picking off a couple of walkers as they approached.
“Great shot, Y/N,” Fat Joey said behind you as the new guy Josh clapped. Between babysitting you and kissing your old man’s ass you wonder how they had time to come out here and watch your back.
“Hardly, it took me three shots.” You huffed as you scouted deeper. The archery wasn’t for practical purposes. You liked it when you were in the scouts and your old man figured you’d be sentimental enough to want to have a bow and arrow now. It gave you an excuse to leave...with a couple of babysitters.
“I’m done. Let’s go”. You announced heading back to the compound with your carers in tow. Once back inside the two went to follow you up to the top floor. “I can go by myself” you shot at them.
Josh began to argue “That’s against Nea-”
“Negan isn’t fucking here!” you barked back, causing Fat Joey to jump. You strolled ahead, the others not following you.
“What’s she so worked up about?” you heard them before ascending the stairs. You were usually kinder but today you had a mission and going out to shoot some arrows was just an excuse to descend from your floor without suspicion. You stopped off at a supply closet on the way up to your floor and grabbed a back-pack. It was small but it would serve your purpose.
That evening you showered for an hour, not knowing when you would get such a luxury again. You dressed in fresh pants that would be perfect for the DC spring and a button-up shirt. In your bag, you placed three bottles of water, some dried food, 30 rounds of bullets for your gun, some painkillers, a pair of wire cutters, some rope, and a knife sharpener. You had in your belt a handgun you had stolen from the supply and the engraved knife. Finally, your bow and quiver. Your plan was near perfect, it just needed to be activated. The last piece you left was a note tucked under your pillow. ‘Don’t try to find me’.
When the sky began to turn a warm orange you began running to the back stairwell and placing yourself under behind some steps. Concealed in the shadows you waited. There would be guards outside. Some might recognize you but you’d been hidden away from the world for so long it was more likely they’d think you were a code orange so you waited.
The change of the shift descended the steps, sauntering out the back door without a care in the world. You moved behind them, not earning a bit of attention as the people chatted amongst themselves. Once outside the guards went left and you went right, keeping an ear on their pace and trying to match it so they didn’t turn. You ducked behind a broken wall and was greeted with the final limit to your freedom. The damn walker fence. You pulled out the wire clippers and started working at the fence. Your heart began to beat rapidly ‘If I don’t get out while the guard is changing I’m screwed’.
To make matters worse a couple of the walkers now thought you were a snack, banging on the fence and growling in your direction. With quick hands, you peeled back an edge of the fence and crawled through. You dived out of the walkers grab, now clear of the fence and lying underneath a concrete mound which another walker was chained too, luckily on the other side so it had to lean over the concrete to reach you. Your breathing hastened and you began to crawl, narrowly missing walker after walker. Luckily their chains and spikes kept most of them upright.
You were nearly clear when you heard it. The exit door had creaked open, meaning the guard had officially changed. You had made it to a relatively safe spot but the walkers were wanting you and the guard was now paying attention.
“What’s that?” you heard one of them call. This was it you thought. She’s gonna come over here and shoot you dead. You could hear her heavy boots moving around. She’d see you soon. By some miracle, one of the mounted walkers had torn their attention from you and was now snapping at her. You held your breath as you looked for the pole it was mounted on, finding it within arms reach. You pushed your legs under you then grabbed the pole, trying urgently to loosen it. Your heart sat in your throat as she got closer till eventually, the pole slipped from its position and out of the hungry walker, who you guessed lunged at the woman. Under the cover of her screams, you jumped up and ran, sprinting for the forest edge. Your feet felt light despite the unlevel ground the air in your lungs fueled your adrenaline. And you ran.
As the sky turned light again when you began to hunt. ‘I need a walker’ you thought. You wandered into a small town. There were a few bumbling around you examining each from a distance. ‘Too old...too short…’.
You struck a few down with your new knife, noticing how their blood gave the engraved letters a rather romantic red hue. Through the slaughter, you saw her, the perfect walker. She was about your height and not too old. She even had your hair color! Now all you had to do was...catch her. You whistled at her. There were two more behind her but if your plan went perfect then they wouldn’t be a worry. You walked back to the forest, beckoning her onwards. She growled and grabbed you while two others bumbled behind her. You pulled your bow from your shoulder, aiming for one behind her and letting loose. The arrow struck it in the stomach but for once you didn’t mind. You took a few more steps back and loaded another arrow and let it fly at the other walker, hitting him square in the head. That was bad. You began to panic thinking you might kill your doppelganger. You walked them into the words, soon it would be life or death. You pulled an arrow and aimed for the final spare walker, putting him down too.
You pulled a final arrow into the bow, pulling the string taut as the doppelganger approached. She lunged at you and you kicked her, sending her back flying into a tree. Finally raising the arrow and shooting her shoulder, pinning her there. You pulled the rope from your bag and thickened it into a gag, tying it to her mouth and around the tree so she couldn’t bite you or move. She still could reach you but you’d have to deal with that. With your knife in hand, you began cutting her clothes off, the smell making you want to throw up. You then stripped yourself of your outfit and began to dress the walker, breaking one of her arms to get the shirt on her. ‘Thank god no one is around to see me in my undies’. The next touch was leaving your stuff there. The quiver and bow were dropped and your bag was thrown open. You left everything except the gun, the rounds, and a lone arrow. Finally, you carved off her face, walked around the tree, and cut her free. She moved slowly down the arrow to freedom and you sprinted, dropping the knife as you run.
After all this effort he better believe you were dead.
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splendidlyimperfect · 3 years
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When Gray wakes up one night with a voice in his head, the last thing he expects is to suddenly be sharing a body with a demon. Natsu is nothing like Gray expected, though. He's surprisingly charming, and more concerned about getting Gray to eat vegetables than he is with taking over the world. Since Gray can't push him away like he does with everyone else, he begrudgingly accepts Natsu's place in his life - for now. But when Natsu ends up needing Gray's help, what started out as an inconvenience turns into a road trip - and a friendship - that changes Gray's life.
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written for @fuckyeahgratsu​ gratsu weekend 2021 event
day 1; prompt: first
Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Fairy Tail Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel, Lyon Vastia, Mard Geer Tartarus Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Humor, Adventure, Demonic Possession, but the good kind, demon Natsu, References to Depression, Depressed Gray, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Sort Of, Road Trips, Falling In Love, Natsu's not an evil demon, he really just wants to take care of Gray, Gray sucks at feelings
-----
“Wake up.”
The words drifted through Gray’s dream, breaking up the strange carnival music that had been playing in the background. He could feel the images dissolving around him and he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to stay asleep.
“Hey! Wake up.”
The edges of the dream blurred and then slipped away entirely, leaving Gray miserably awake with a pounding headache. He sighed, rolling onto his back and rubbing his eyes. The room was still dark, and when he glanced at his phone, he realized it wasn’t even two in the morning.
Continue reading on AO3
“Fucking hell,” he grumbled, pushing himself up and swinging his legs out of bed. He stumbled to the bathroom, grabbing the bottle of aspirin and tossing two back before leaning forward and staring blearily into the mirror. There was a soft meow behind him as the bathroom door opened wider, dragging a bright line of moonlight with it. It cast a strange shadow along the wall and lit up Gray’s reflection with an eerie glow.
“Finally, you’re awake!”
The voice that filled Gray’s head was bright and wild, and for some reason it made Gray think of a matchbook. It curled around his senses, filling him with a strange sense of warmth. He frowned at his reflection. Something wasn’t quite right.
“What the…” Gray leaned in further, running his fingers underneath his left eye. The iris, normally a deep blue-black, was shimmering. Gray blinked a few times, then groaned and rubbed his face. “Lyon, you stupid fuck, what the hell did you put in my drink?”
He stood there for a minute, hand over his eyes, until his hazy brain caught up with the fact that someone else had been talking, and he lived alone.
“Happy?” He frowned at the cat that had padded into the bathroom and was now sitting on the back of the toilet, staring at Gray. “Did you…”
“I’m not gonna lie,” the voice interrupted again. “I’m really, really tempted to let you think that your cat can talk.”
Gray jerked back from Happy and glanced around the bathroom. There was nothing around except the two of them and the moonlight, but he flicked the light on just in case. The only thing that greeted him was his reflection – messy hair, lines on his cheek from the pillowcase, and one glowing eye.
What the fuck?
“I…” He frowned, rubbing his face and blinking a few times. The eye kept glowing. He could feel something behind it – something in his mind, wriggling around like a memory he couldn’t quite find. “What?”
“Are you always this eloquent?”
“It’s two in the fucking morning,” he snapped irritably, then ran both hands over his face. “Am I dreaming?”
“Are you gonna believe me if I say no?” Gray could hear a laugh coloring the voice this time.
“Who are you?” he demanded, looking back out into the bedroom. Nothing greeted him but the empty bed, piles of books, and several cups of cold coffee.
“Look in the mirror.” Gray’s gaze flicked back to his reflection. “Closer,” the voice said, and despite his brain screaming at him that it was a terrible idea, Gray leaned in.
His reflection wobbled for a second – like the surface of a lake after a rock had been thrown. Then the features on the left half of his face started to shift. The glowing eye turned a soft shade of green and changed shape, slanting upward, and a wave of freckles rippled out across his cheek. The piece of hair that hung in his face started to curl and shifted from black to a soft pink. His teeth sharpened into fangs, and his lip quirked up into a smile that Gray definitely wasn’t controlling.
“How high am I?” he murmured, touching his teeth to ensure that they were not, in fact, sharp. “I’m gonna kill Lyon.”
“Is that the kid with the white hair?”
Gray nodded absently.
“He didn’t give you anything. He’s a punk-ass bitch who waters down his liquor.” There was a pause, and then the voice added, “And he’s a fucking terrible warlock.”
“A… what?” Gray was only half paying attention to the words. The rest of his focus was still on the way that his reflection was shifting and changing. The right half of the mirror was still him – messy hair, tattooed chest, pierced ear, black boxers. But the left half was quickly becoming something more… Gray wasn’t sure what word to use for it.
“Warlock,” the voice repeated. Gray’s left eye rolled itself in the reflection. He blinked a few times and shook his head.
“You mean that Ouija board shit?” he asked.
Slowly, the left half of Gray’s reflection separated, shimmering and then coalescing into the form of a young man standing just behind him. Gray looked over his shoulder to the empty washroom, then back at the mirror. The man waved at him and gave him a cheeky grin.
“I’m Natsu.”
Gray blinked a few times, rubbing his temples to try and relieve his throbbing headache. Natsu, who was now almost entirely solid in the reflection, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the wall. He looked about the same age as Gray, with black tattoos that twisted around his arms and up his neck. His cheeks and temples were smattered with what looked like scales, and his wild pink hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail at the base of his neck.
Fuck, he was hot.
“Do you have a name?” Natsu prompted, giving Gray a grin that showed off his pointy teeth.  
“Um.” Gray’s brain blipped and he frowned and blinked at the same time, making what he assumed was an extremely unattractive face. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he ran his hands through his hair and quickly said, “Gray.”
“Hm.” Natsu tipped his head to one side, studying Gray’s reflection. “You’re not a warlock.”
Gray shook his head. “No, it’s just Lyon. Well, he’s into magic stuff. Like tarot cards, and he’s got the Ouija board. I thought it was just… weird college shit.”
“I am not ‘weird college shit,’” Natsu said indignantly, making quotation marks in the air as he raised a pierced eyebrow at Gray. “I’m a demon. From—” Here, he said a series of words in a rough language Gray didn’t understand.
“Is that, um… in Germany?”
Natsu glared at him.
Gray sighed and ran both hands over his face. Happy, who had been watching him with vague disinterest, hopped up onto the sink and rubbed his face against the mirror. Gray felt a tugging sensation in his arm, and before he realized what he was doing, he reached out to pet Happy. His hand felt strange and weightless and it took him a second to realize that he wasn’t controlling it.
“What the hell?” he yelped, jumping back and pulling his hand toward his chest like he’d been burned. “What did you—”
“Not hell,” Natsu reassured him. His reflection was no longer against the wall, and he was instead standing directly behind Gray as he stared down at Happy. “Hells. Plural.”
“No, what did you do with my…” Gray gestured vaguely at his arm. His fingers were still tingling.
“Oh. I just wanted to pet him.” Natsu nodded at Happy. “I haven’t seen a cat in a long time. Not alive, anyway. He’s soft.”
Gray frowned at Natsu in the mirror, then reached out – on his own, this time – and ran his fingers over Happy’s fur again. “He’s kind of an asshole,” Gray warned as Happy purred, then turned and nipped his fingers.
Natsu grinned. “We’ll get along just fine, then.” The weightless sensation appeared in Gray’s hand again as Natsu took over, but this time he let it. Despite Natsu’s fangs and scales, he didn’t seem particularly scary. In fact, the expression on his face as he petted Happy was one of almost child-like excitement.  
“Wait,” Gray said as Natsu’s words finally caught up to him. “You’re staying? In me? I mean not—not in me like that, but in…” He trailed off and ran a hand over his burning cheeks. Natsu started to answer but Gray shook his head. “Nope. No. It’s two in the morning and I’m still not convinced this isn’t just a side effect of Lyon accidentally giving me mushrooms again, so I’m going to sleep and deal with all of this—” he gestured vaguely to Natsu’s reflection in the mirror “—once I’m awake and sober.”
Before Natsu could argue Gray flicked off the light, grabbed Happy, and headed back to the bed.
“I’m not a side effect,” Natsu grumbled as Gray burrowed under the blankets and pulled a pillow over his head.
“Shut up,” he said through a yawn. “If you’re still around tomorrow, we can talk.”
~
“Gray. Graaay. Graaaaaaaay.”
Gray groaned as he blinked slowly awake. His head still throbbed and he felt vaguely sick, and the insistent voice calling out his name wasn’t helping.
“What’you want?” he mumbled. His mouth felt fuzzy.
“Finally! I’ve been trying to wake you up for like half an hour now. Did you know that you snore? Like, a lot. It’s a good thing I don’t need sleep, or I’d be pretty annoyed at you right now.”
The voice was much too chipper for – Gray squinted at his phone – 7:36 a.m. He groaned and flopped back against the pillow, then looked around for the source of the voice. Nobody was there except for Happy, who was curled up on the pillow next to him, fast asleep.
“Who—”
“In your head, remember?”
The events of early morning started to come back to Gray in pieces – the hot guy in the mirror who claimed he was from… somewhere that wasn’t Germany. He frowned and looked over at the bathroom.
“I don’t live in the mirror, idiot.”
“Well how the fuck am I supposed to know that?” Gray glared at the ceiling. “It’s not like I’ve ever done this before.”
“Aw, I’m your first?”
“No,” Gray said sarcastically, rolling his eyes and staring up at the ceiling. “I get possessed by demons all the time. It’s a hobby.”
“Really?” Natsu sounded genuinely surprised.
“Oh my god,” Gray muttered under his breath. “It’s way too early for this.” He sighed, then pushed himself up and ran his hands through his hair.
“Is it breakfast time?” Natsu asked. “’cause I’m starving. Or you are. I’m not sure if I can be hungry when I’m possessing you. Maybe we’re both hungry! What kind of food do you have?”
“I’m not hungry,” Gray interrupted. A low growling from his stomach disagreed with him, but he ignored it.  
“Well then I am.” Natsu sounded almost petulant. “Do you have coffee? I haven’t had coffee in forever. I mean, I haven’t had anything in forever – demons don’t really eat. Do you like tacos? I wanna try tacos. They weren’t around the last time I was here.”
“Do you always talk this much?” Gray asked. He stood up and stretched, then rummaged through his drawers until he found a clean shirt to pull on.
“I dunno,” Natsu said. “Maybe? Probably. I haven’t had anyone to talk to in a long time.”
“Aren’t there other… demons? Where you’re from?”
“Yes. They’re boring, though. All they talk about is torturing people.”
A cold thread of fear suddenly crept up the back of Gray’s neck. The word ‘demon’ had obviously registered before, but it wasn’t until now that he realized that being possessed by one probably wasn’t a good thing. Natsu seemed harmless enough, but the mention of torture made Gray’s hairs stand on end.
“Don’t worry,” Natsu reassured him before he could say anything. “I’m not gonna torture you. I mean, I couldn’t, even if I wanted to, ‘cause I don’t have a body. I mean, I can sort control you, so guess I could probably compel you to walk into traffic or something.” He must have felt Gray’s fear surge because he quickly added, “I wouldn’t! I promise.”
Gray didn’t say anything as he pulled out the tin of coffee from the cupboard and started measuring it into the machine. Now that he was awake, a thousand thoughts were racing through his mind. How had this happened? Did Lyon do this on purpose? If it was an accident, how was he going to reverse it? Would an exorcism work?  
“It might.” Natsu’s voice shoved its way to the forefront of Gray’s mind.
“You can hear my thoughts?”
“Mhmm.”
“Fuck.” Gray watched as his hand moved on its own and added one more scoop of coffee grounds to the machine. “Stop that.”
“Why?” Natsu’s voice was bright and playful. “It’s fun.”
“’cause it’s my body.” The coffee machine started to hiss and sputter. “And it feels weird.”
Natsu huffed but acquiesced and Gray was relieved when the sensation returned to his arm. He shook his hand out a few times, then slumped down on one of the stools next to the counter.
“Aren’t you gonna make breakfast?” Natsu asked. “Do you have bacon?”
“I’m not hungry,” Gray said again.
“Why are you lying?”
“I’m not.”
“You are. I’m literally inside of you, I can tell you’re hungry. Why don’t you want to eat?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Gray said. “This is weird enough without you bossing me around.” He pulled out his phone and stared at the screen, then swiped to his text conversation with Lyon.
Natsu was quiet for a few minutes while Gray attempted to compose a message. The only sound in the kitchen was the drip of the coffee machine, and Happy’s quiet meow from beside the pantry where he waited to be fed. Gray started and deleted a few messages, then set the phone back down on the counter and dropped his head into his hands, sighing.
“You’re really sad,” Natsu said quietly.
“No,” Gray said, “I’m frustrated.”
“I don’t mean right now,” Natsu said. “I mean just… in general.” Gray felt a strange tugging sensation in the back of his mind. “It’s kind of a mess in here.”
“Stop looking through my brain!” Gray stood up and shook his head as if he could dislodge Natsu from his mind. “I’m fine. I’m just not hungry, is that a fucking crime?”
“When was the last time you ate?”
“None of your goddamn business.” Gray could feel heat rising in his cheeks as he ran his hands through his hair. “Leave me alone.”
“I can’t.”
Gray stared across the room at his reflection in the microwave. The shadow of Natsu stood behind him with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t look angry, though, just concerned. Gray hated it. The last thing he needed was someone poking around in his brain – even if that someone was unfairly attractive, and, despite being a demon, actually kind of nice.
“How do I get rid of you?”
“I don’t know.” There was a note of hurt in Natsu’s voice as he disappeared from the reflection. Gray could still hear him, though, when he added, “Ask your warlock friend.”
“He’s not my friend,” Gray said, glaring at his phone. “He’s my brother. And he’s a fucking idiot.”
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