#There'll be experiences and emotions | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daydreamcloudshiding · 6 months

Text

#1 Astrology Observations

If you have Sun, Moon, Venus, Lilith, or Pluto with Chiron in synastry, you both can either really heal each other without even trying (like one person might say the right things at the right time, they have the same life principles or values, they truly understand each other's pain that other people are unable to) or, both parties will trigger each other so much that one person might hate the other person intensely. These triggers are supposed to open opportunities for healing, but if one or both are not ready or too immature, there'll be so much pain and chaos in the relationship.

In my experiences, if you have Sun-North Node synastry, the Sun person can really be the North Node biggest lesson in life. Now this doesn't mean that it's gonna be bad or hurtful, but the Sun person truly embody the characteristics and skills that North Node person really needs to reach stability in their life.

People with heavy air signs in their chart are very individualistic. Like they care, but they don't. The way the share their caring side to you is usually through facts and knowledge. If you have synastry with someone, mostly in air houses or someone with heavy air signs, the way you both bond with each other is usually very cerebral. There needs to be mental connection. Communication is very important to them. They won't bother with trying to read between the lines.

If you have Moon or Venus square Pluto synastry with someone, the Moon will become so emotionally and mentally attached to Pluto person. The Moon will feel the most secure when they are with the Pluto person, but also can sense that there's this danger with Pluto but they can't put their finger on it. The Pluto person will be attracted to this dynamic because it gives them a sense of power, but at the same time this will trigger their biggest fear (it could be betrayals, abandonment, etc) from the Moon or Venus person because, just as much as the Moon or Venus person is attached, the Pluto is attached too. The Moon is soft in their approach, while Pluto is not. This is a little bit like if the Moon is suspicious that Pluto is cheating, and just being quiet about it while they try to find out the truth. While Pluto might demand the Moon to give their phone's password, their social media, etc. The Moon can become elusive, the Pluto can become controlling.

My biggest turn off is Mercury square Mercury in synastry. Truly, in this synastry, both seems to never be able to truly understand each other. In my experience, any form of emotional attachment feels forced. Like one could care about the other person, but at the same time, they always will feel so offended by what the other person said. It feels forced as if both are such two different pieces of puzzle. It's like one person see the other person as aliens. I think people tend to underestimate this aspect in synastry, probably because Mercury isn't exactly a "love" planet. With square Venus, it is merely love languages. But with Mercury, the other person usually don't have the capacity to see or comprehend the other person's worldview, or experiences. One person might stay away from the other as to not argue with them, and the other will see this as abandonment. If one person opens their mouth about anything, they will be dismissed as ignorant. This aspect is very tricky and hard in synastry. Both will just argue a lot.

If you have any Saturn conjunction synastry with someone, somehow the energy of the relationship feels stifling, but it's not the point of it. It feels stifling because Saturn is about self-control and order. I adore this synastry with someone that you are in romantic relationship with, because it's also about devotion and faithfulness. The stifling part can be that you both become so careful of not saying the wrong thing because you can sense how delicate the other person's feelings is, and there's a huge sense of responsibility here, almost as if the other person's feelings or well being is your responsibility too, and vice versa. Saturn conjunct Sun/Moon make the Saturn person feels responsible to the Sun/Moon person, while the Sun/Moon person somehow perceive the Saturn person as someone who is highly respected and experienced.

If you have very little to no aspects (especially conjunction) with someone in synastry (especially in personal planet), it makes it very hard for the both of you to relate to each other's feelings. Even if both of you are generally nice people and treat the other good, it feels like they can't truly understand you, nor you understand them.

People with Saturn and Pluto dominant people usually have a lot of karma. Now this doesn't always means that it's bad, but really be careful of what you do as it will come back to you 10 times more. Saturn and Pluto deals with power and control, but actually mostly it's about self-control and self-empowerment. It's not so much about controlling other people or try to overpower others. If you have Pluto/Saturn aspects with someone and you are the Saturn/Pluto person, try to think about this. It's never about controlling other people or your partner.

People with Uranus in 7th unconsciously trying to find/attract partners who are unstable, be it mentally or financially, etc. It's really awful though because their relationship might effected them mentally so much to the point where they might spiral into depression. If you have this in your natal chart, please pay attention to the reasons as to why you are attracted to your person. I'm not saying that we should not date someone based on their mental health/financial status. But if you know that this person will likely mess with your head or life, please think about this thoroughly. What i noticed is, Uranus in 7th house people really desire to have a beautiful and stable romantic life but unconsciously attracted to people who won't give them exactly that.

If you have Venus in earth houses (2,6,10) people will generally see you as the stable one in relationships, even if you're not, even if you're awkward or inexperienced. It's generally because people see you as someone who's practical in relationships and most likely attract partners who are reliable too.

If you have 11th house synastry with someone and you attracted to them romantically, you guys might started off with friendship first. Or, there is this element of friendship in this relationship. Both of you don't always act romantic but somehow you guys get each other so easily. Like you guys might finish each other's sentences.

Mars in 4th house synastry means when the Mars person gets angry, it'll somehow feel familiar to the 4th house person or vice versa. Like when this person gets angry, it reminds you of when your own parents gets angry and how they act when they are angry. If you are close with your parents, it might means that you can handle their anger easily because you just know that to do.

When you have 8th house in composite or synastry, you will not ever doubt their feelings for you. For example, if you have moon in 8th house, you know damn well that this person loves you and so are they, they know that you love them so much.

If you find yourself so attracted to certain sign so much, check the degree of your Venus sign. For example, if you have Venus in 1 degree, you might find yourself so attracted to Aries.

If you have a lot of 2nd and 8th house conjunction with someone, it can mean that they will spoil you so much and vice versa. It's like an instinct, like they will naturally want to buy you things and so are you.

People always talk about how the sign in your 7th house is your romantic partner, but the 7th house also represent hidden enemies. For example, I have Cancer in my 7th house (Capricorn Rising), and i swear to whatever people finds holy, I cannot stand them no matter how nice i am to them, they are always so suspicious of me and start to talk sh*t behind my back. The only Cancer placement that i can get along with are Cancer Mars and Cancer Rising.

#astrology #astro notes #astrology notes #astrology observations #astro community

668 notes · View notes

milliesfishes · 15 days

Text

Pray You Catch Me (Part 3)

[fem reader] contains: mentions of pale skin, cheating, suggestive, panic attack, manipulation, angst, innocent reader, reader cares to some level about snow. pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader summary: (au) you’ve been married to the president of Panem for awhile now, and you thought things were going well, until you find out he’s been cheating. (Chapter 3) author’s note: this is the longest one yet. I hope it's good <3 thanks for all the love and support. If I'm planning this correctly, there'll be one more chapter in this series, so lookout for that, I'll keep you updated. Let me know which song(s) off Lemonade you want for the last chapter. I've gotten suggestions for Jolene or Daughter too, might play around with that. Love and thanks <3

Whoever said a house divided against itself cannot stand was wrong. It can, but it’s not an easy house to live in. It’s only when someone sets fire to the house that it falls.

As you avoided him the next couple of weeks, you half hoped he missed you, but decided not to give it too much thought. He didn’t deserve that. The silent treatment, although childish, weaned results in your previous experience.

The day he was supposed to meet her came and went, and you were restless for all of your waking hours. Part of you wanted to confront him, the other, more stubborn part said to leave it. You’d made your statement. If he wanted you back then he’d have to make the first move.

It was peaceful existing outside his constant gaze. Having the whole bed to yourself was nice too. You didn’t have to curate what you wore to sleep, didn’t have to constantly make sure your expressions were pleasing to him.

Although you kind of missed his warm body next to yours. His hands reaching out in the night, making you feel wanted…

No. He didn’t want you. He wanted everything. He thought he could have everything. But as long as you were distant, he couldn’t.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure how to continue from here. What does one do after they confront their husband about his cheating? It wasn’t like your mother had warned you about this. So you stayed quiet and stayed away.

As long as you were able to, at least.

There was a gala tonight, a big one, and even though you weren’t exactly on speaking terms, you knew it’d be bad for your image if you didn’t go together. It’d be the same as all these parties were, drinks and chatting mindlessly, pictures taken of you and Coriolanus together looking like the beautiful couple you pretended to be.

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t have some fun with it.

So when you descended the stairs that night in a deep burgundy dress so red it was almost black, you held back a smirk at the look on your husband’s face. He was in his red suit, that red suit, the one you’d debated stuffing a pair of your panties into the pocket of, but decided against.

The dress was silk, falling off your shoulders with a high slit up the side that wasn’t visible until you walked. Your hair was curly, in its natural state, a way you hadn’t dared wear in front of him before. It was messy, but pretty, and you felt more yourself than you had in ages.

Coriolanus’ face was even, but his eyes betrayed him. They widened slightly, and that little mark of hunger flickered in his irises, just as you’d hoped. His eyes traveled from your legs to your waist, and landed on your hair. “I requested that you wear white.”

You stopped at the second to last step on the staircase. “Your request has been submitted.”

He raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything. You knew his possessive side was taking over, seeing you in the color he loved so much. Gracefully, you reached the bottom, and you both walked silently to the waiting car outside.

The ride was quiet, and you kept your eyes out the window, watching the trees and buildings pass you by. Your posture was perfect, your face void of any emotion. You were calm, but he didn’t know that, and it was delicious.

Coriolanus watched you shamelessly, but you did not once turn your head to look at him.

Once you arrived at the event at someone’s mansion, Coriolanus stepped out of the car, giving you a hand to help you out, and you took it, your hand sliding up to the crook of his arm. You made sure your face was set in a gracious smile. The president and his perfect wife. Your dress would certainly make headlines. You’d never worn anything this bold before, usually sticking to soft, light colors.

There were photographers everywhere, and you made sure to look up at Coriolanus lovingly, your stupid, foolish heart melting when you found he was looking at you the same way. It’s not real, you had to remind yourself. It. Isn’t. Real.

But oh…he was so handsome. And the way he held your hand in the cradle of his arm, made sure you didn’t trip over your dress as you went up the stairs…you hated yourself for the feelings coursing through you. He cheated on you.

As you entered the party, you struggled to put your emotions back in their box. Coriolanus wound his arm around your waist, signaling that you should stay close to him, but you ignored it, taking a glass of champagne and moving toward where some of the other wives had gathered.

Your husband caught you around the waist again, his fingers digging into your side. “Right by me, dove.” Coriolanus’ expression was firm, and his eyes bored a hole into you.

Tilting your head as your eyebrows raised, you took a sip of your drink. “I want to say hello. Be a good First Lady.”

“You can do that by keeping by my side,” he said coldly. His voice lowered so only you could hear. “I don’t care what you think you know, we have an image to maintain.”

“I don’t need you to tell me about image,” you said in a sharp whisper. “That's all we are.”

With that, you jerked yourself away, and this time you were too fast to stop him.

Talking with the other wives went exactly how you thought. Mindless gossip, compliments on your dress, tentative tactics on their part to try and figure out what went on behind the walls of the president’s mansion. You’d always enjoyed playing with them, giving them just enough ‘information’, but still keeping the secrecy that kept them interested. That was your job- to be interesting. To be an extension of Coriolanus, but better. Charming, beautiful, sweet.

Eventually, you tired of them, and returned to him, another champagne glass in hand. You would’ve had to eventually, and you wanted it to be on your own terms. He was speaking with a senator and his dark haired wife. As you approached them, he twined his arm back around your waist, greeting you with a dutiful kiss to your hairline, his eyes still on the senator as he rambled about district funding.

You smiled at his wife, knowing you’d have to engage in conversation with her while the men did. She smiled back, studying you, her careful eyes catching on your neck, on the burn mark that hadn’t fully healed yet. Your hair had been covering it up so far, but apparently on your walk over, it’d moved aside.

The dark haired woman frowned, and she looked at you, curiosity thinly veiled by feigned concern. “Whatever happened to your neck? It looks painful.”

The conversation between the two men halted, and they both looked at you. You allowed an innocent expression to take over your face, and you moved your hair modestly so the mark was covered again. “Oh…Coriolanus got a bit carried away is all,” you said, looking up at him with a sweet smile, your hand on the back of his shoulder. “Right, dearest?”

His mouth was firmly set as he looked down at you, eyes were hard. He’d had about enough of your behavior, and you could see it. But instead of yelling at you or gripping your waist tighter, he smirked.

Then he took your glass away. “That’s enough for you I think.” The senator laughed, and your husband drank the little champagne that was left.

You just watched him, your smile fading a bit. In a single motion, he’d taken the power back, made you look like a fool. Your cheeks flushed a bit, and you forced a smile onto your face, succumbing to his grip.

The next hour was a parade of pointless small talk and stillness on your part. This felt unfamiliar- you were usually sweet and chatty with all those you greeted, charming even the frostiest of figures.

This trait had always been a part of you, ever since you’d been inducted into Capitol society. Quickly, you’d learned you liked it when people liked you, and over the years, your charm had developed naturally. You suspected it was what drew him to you initially. The two of you had met at one of these types of parties after all.

When you and Coriolanus debuted your engagement, society had been no less than thrilled. Their beautiful effervescent debutante paired with the handsome up and coming politician. And when he’d become president within your first year of marriage, well, it was a supernova. The tabloids had dubbed you “Panem’s Princess” because of it.

You thought of that girl as you smiled listlessly at passerby, nodding along with whatever Coriolanus was saying, mourning the innocence you’d lost. That girl felt like a character in a book now, relatable, but far beyond your grasp. She’d been so hopeful, and he’d torn it all down.

Coriolanus squeezed your side briefly, and you smiled a little brighter, nodding at the man he was talking to like you’d been paying attention, hoping your demeanor wasn’t too noticeable.

Oh, who were you kidding? The papers would have a field day with this. They followed your every move at public events. Looking down at where Coriolanus’ hand was situated, slightly over your tummy, you could hear the headlines. FIRST LADY EXPECTED TO EXPECT! PANEM’S PRINCESS PREGNANT?

Not that it really mattered, you supposed. The rumors would die down. Your marriage wouldn’t.

Your husband excused himself with a whisper and a squeeze to your waist, and you didn’t watch him leave, not really caring in the moment where he went. Immediately, you were accosted by another wife, admonishing compliments on your dress.

“I’ve never seen you match with President Snow,” she said, smiling brightly. “Trying something new?”

You nodded, smiling back warmly. Panem’s Princess. “To be honest, it was a complete accident. But I wasn’t about to change.”

She laughed. “The two of you are so sweet. The entire country’s jealous of your relationship.”

Smile fading a bit, you excused yourself, apologizing to her as you did. The innocent comment opened the box of feelings you’d tried to kick aside. Pretending was agony. How was it going to get easier, acting like he loved you?

You stumbled into the hallway, darting just around a nearby corner for a moment of privacy, your back against the wall, the coolness of it breathing a little life into you. Breathing ragged, you rested your head against the wall, trying to regain your calm but it proved difficult.

If he’d truly never cared about you, this must have come easily. Jealousy overwhelmed you at the thought. As your mind wandered to the future, you were overwhelmed by the idea of thousands more of these events. Was it going to be this agonizing every time? This would be unbearable.

Thinking of before, you tried to come to a conclusion. Maybe you could be done avoiding him now. Surely he’d learned his lesson. You could move past this, learn to forgive him. Maybe, just maybe, if you allowed yourself to care about him again, it would be easier. It could be like before.

You’d decided to talk to him when you got home, when you heard voices around the corner, by where the door to the party was. It was Coriolanus, you realized. Curious, you listened closer, moving a little bit to the side to have a better vantage. That was him all right. Authoritative, but soft enough that you couldn’t really hear what he was saying. And then someone else started talking. A woman.

Immediately, you moved around the corner to see them, keeping yourself in the shadows. If he looked up, he’d see you, but his eyes were focused on the woman in front of him. The dark haired woman.

It was the senator’s wife. Them being alone together wasn’t enough to suspect anything. But the way he was looking at her.

Your eyes widened as you realized it. It’s her.

Coriolanus tilted her chin up as he said something quietly. His face was hardened, and he nodded once at her response. Then she went back into the party, leaving him alone. You forgot you were in a spot where he’d see you, frozen in place. Then he looked up, his sharp blue eyes piercing you.

The two of you were locked there, staring at each other for what felt like forever. Then, without even realizing it, you moved toward him, anger making you faster.

Your hand moved of its own volition, yanking his collar so his face was close to yours. “What the fuck was that?”

He made no move to stop you. “Calm down, dove-”

The pet name only angered you further, and you pulled harder. “You were four feet from the door. Discretion isn’t your strong point, is it?”

Coriolanus pulled your hand off his collar, gripping it and suffocating your fingers. “You don’t know what you saw.”

“Save it,” you hissed, trying to pull your hand away. “Save it for her. She’s still under your spell.”

Your hand was freed, and you went back into the party, fury numbing you, objectives unclear. In a haze, you glided to her husband, greeting him sweetly. He excused himself from whom he was previously speaking immediately as you worked your charm on him, smiling brightly and laughing.

Then you touched his arm, moving just slightly closer. Enough for him to notice, enough for him to notice, but not enough for a nosy reporter to sell it into a story.

The senator looked pleased, and he gave you a tentative smile, opening his mouth to say something-

An arm claimed your waist for the millionth time tonight, and you were pulled into your husband’s chest, his other hand on the back of your neck, forcing your face to rest against his shoulder, hiding you from the world. The cool of his wedding ring was pressed against your skin

“Apologies, Senator,” Coriolanus said smoothly. “It seems my wife didn’t slow down on the champagne.”

You heard a faint chuckle, and then Coriolanus dropped his lips to the top of your head, hand smoothing over your curls. Since you hardly ever wore your hair like this, you knew he’d been dying to touch it all night.

The senator must have left, because he leaned down and whispered, “We’re leaving. Now.”

The walk back to the car was a blur as he pulled you through the crowd, and you kept up as gracefully as you could, hurrying down the stairs and nearly tripping over your dress. The second the door was shut, he turned to you, his face furious. “The next man you touch dies.”

You slapped him, an instant response. His face was unmoving, his glare stronger now. The anger simmered in both of you.

“Try not to hurt yourself,” you spat, your other hand balling into a fist, nails digging into your palm.

His hands were around your wrists in a flash. “You are mine. After everything I’ve given you, everything-”

“What about what I’ve given you?” you retorted, your hair falling forward over your shoulders as you looked up at him. “You really think you could’ve done anything without my image? I’m Panem’s Princess. Without me you’re just a man who got lucky.”

“Don’t you go there,” he said coolly, gripping your wrists tighter. But you could tell your words had gotten to him, hit him right in the ego.

“Why shouldn’t I?” You leaned closer to him. “You know as well as I do that you’re well liked. But I’m adored. You’re too caught up in your own image to realize I’m helping you more than you ever did me.”

The car stopped in front of the mansion, and you got out, pulling your wrists away, kicking off your shoes and picking them up, walking up the stairs, not caring if he followed but knowing he would.

As the door shut behind the both of you, he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to face him. “Tonight had better be an anomaly. You show up in this dress, flirt with someone beneath me and think you can get away with it?”

“I could say the exact same thing to you,” you scoffed, almost laughing. “Everyone thinks you’re something to be afraid of, but all I see is a little boy who thinks he can have it all.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset by any of this,” he said frustratedly, and you scoffed again, looking away in disbelief. “You knew the terms of this marriage. It’s not like I hurt you.”

You were silent, staring at him, waiting for him to figure it out. It took him one minute, and it was one minute longer than you’d have liked. His face fell slightly as he realized, his eyes widening slightly. “You…you…”

There were hot tears in your eyes, and you cursed yourself for it. Stupid, stupid feelings. Stupid, beautiful man.

“I thought…you cared about me,” you said, your voice only breaking a little, holding strong. “Not loved. Cared. And I was wrong. So wrong.”

Coriolanus shook his head and released your wrists, stepping toward you a little. “I do care about you…”

You shook your head, looking up at him, a single cursed tear falling down your cheek. “I don’t know if you care about anyone. Not me, not her, nobody. You’re the king of everything…” you spread your arms out wide for a second, letting them fall to your sides. “But being at the top isn’t what you thought it’d be.”

He kept quiet for once.

Closing your eyes, you brought a hand to your brow, trying to breathe steadily. All the emotion and panic from the night was encircling you, backing you into a tighter and tighter spot.

Seeing him with her…his hand on her chin…how many times has he seen her since…I don’t want him…I want him…he cheated…

Your legs grew weak, and you dropped your shoes, collapsing to your knees, chest heaving and ears ringing. Your nails dug into your palms, trying to capture the tension there, but failing. He was on the ground next to you in an instant, hand on your back. You shook your head, trying to push him away. “Don’t…please don’t…”

Coriolanus ignored you, hand rubbing your back, trying to soothe you through it. He said your name softly, and you shook your head again. “Please go…”

You were trying to stay angry, trying to keep yourself the confident, intimidating woman he’d seen all night…but it’d all broken you down. Despite it all, despite the cheating and lying, you cared. You cared too much. It was worthless to pretend, too exhausting to have any kind of facade. And so you fell…fell back into his arms where you’d begun.

He held you close to his chest, his hand pressing your head to him, your ear right over his heart. The steady beating of it calmed you, and you clung to him, gasping for air. Coriolanus dug his nose into your hair, taking in deep breaths that encouraged you to do the same. His thumb rubbed the space between your ear and your hair, his other arm secured protectively around you.

Gradually your breathing became regular again, but you still held tight to him. He was all you had right now.

“Stay with me tonight love,” he murmured, staying perfectly still as you rested against him. “You never have to again. But…”

“I hate you,” you breathed shakily.

“I know, love,” he nudged his nose against your head. “I know. Stay with me.”

“If you ever do this again I’ll leave you,” you vowed softly, meaning it. “I’ll leave you…and you’ll never find me…”

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he muttered, and you felt his ring against your skin again. “Stay with me tonight love.”

Love. You were too exhausted to argue, and you just slumped against him, letting him hold you close.

Half of your brain screamed at you to pull yourself away, to stand firm, to divide the house between you even further, make it crumble. But the softer part felt how gently he held you, how he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, hoisting you into his arms as he stood up, carrying you up the stairs.

He cheated, he cheated, hecheatedhecheatedhecheated.

His bed was so familiar, and you’d missed it. Missed his scent surrounding you, his arms around you as you drifted off.

He cheated.

Does he regret it?

Does it matter?

Lovelovelovelove.

A house set on fire cannot stand.

#coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #married to young president snow #president snow x reader #young president snow #milliesfishes snow #milliesfishes #Spotify

117 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 10 months

Note

Scarlet Ribbons accidental kisses with the gang? (I love your writing so much! You're one of the best fanfic writers <3 <3 I reread your works so often, they make my day : D)

wahhh thank you so much, i'm happy to know my writing can bring you some joy!!! 💖

i'm going to assume that this request takes place before SR reader is in a relationship with anyone, hopefully that's what you had in mind hkjetgrmw maybe something like she started to trip and x guy went to catch her? some traditional shoujo exploits ...

[Scarlet Ribbons index]

Giorno

There's a 99% chance Giorno's sentient Stand, GER, had a hand in this. The Stand shares Giorno's affection for you and wishes his user would hurry up in courting you already. Giorno catches onto the shenanigans at play but it's too late — while catching you, your lips make contact. His face has never felt so warm. He tries portraying himself in this suave, calm manner, but when you're in his general vicinity, it's a challenge to maintain this balanced state. His voice is a few pitches higher when he rushes through an apology. The Don of Passione would feel less nervous starting down the barrel of a gun. Later, he chastises his conniving Stand, but deep down… he's secretly grateful.

Bruno

Bruno doesn't immediately pull away and thinks less of himself because of it. He's straining himself to the degree that veins start protruding from his forehead. Your comfort matters far more to him than satisfying any carnal needs. After he ensures you're steady, he puts an appropriate amount of distance between you, then starts apologizing for the mishap. If you're feeling particularly mischievous, now would be the most opportune time to tease him. He's usually immune to being flustered, even from you, but the emotions running rampant through his system momentarily lower his defenses. There'll be a slight blush on his sunkissed skin. He's quick to excuse himself so he can get his heart under control.

Fugo

Fugo struggles to make eye contact with you for a solid week. Once he gets past the initial slew of positive hormones that make him feel like he's on cloud nine, reality settles in, and he's mortified. What if you think he's a creep who did it on purpose? The thought alone leads to sleepless nights where he gnaws on his nails. He berates himself and is extra prone to explode with anger at the slightest provocation. You need to reassure him before there's collateral damage. He's still stiff around you for a while, but that's because his eyes start wandering to your lips if he isn't careful. His own start tingling, as if remembering the soft sensation and longing to experience it again.

Mista

Mista knew the lord was on his side. The last time he attended mass, he prayed for something like this to happen. The main objective henceforth is to maintain his cool. Ride out the waves of coincidence and try not to come off too strong, lest he scare you away. Once he's certain you aren't going to unleash your wrath upon him, the cogs in his brain begin turning. What can he say to sweeten the moment? Win you over with his charisma and charm? There's got to be a perfect combination of words that'll have you weak to your knees. Eventually, he settles on complimenting your chapstick flavor. He later bemoans himself for not saying something cooler.

Narancia

It's like raw caffeine was injected into his veins. He's absolutely ecstatic, ready to bounce from wall to wall, even though he recognizes it was an accident. Who cares? This has got to be fate, or whatever it's called, he thinks he heard the term in a movie once. Narancia is bragging about it to absolutely everyone, much to their chagrin (especially Fugo's). Abbacchio pours salt into Narancia's drink when he isn't looking as a silent form of vengeance. You come into the room and everyone aside from Narancia is grumpy. You're absolutely his first kiss, a fact he takes great pride in. That is, until he wonders if he's your first kiss… then his mood is slightly pampered… for all of ten minutes. Then he's back to beaming, uncaring of anything besides the fact your lips made contact.

Abbacchio

Abbacchio cannot remember the last time his heart pounded this hard — if ever. Still, he doesn't linger in the moment. He may be harsh around the edges, but he still cares for you greatly, the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable. When he parts and sees his purple lipstick smudged onto your pretty, parted lips… it is a divine test of his self-control. That mental image has never left him. He's stuck between not feeling worthy of your affection and wanting to kiss you until the pigment stains your lips a deeper color. It's a dilemma. If he isn't constantly distracting himself, his mind runs off to fantasize.

#giorno x reader #giorno giovanna x reader #bruno bucciarati x reader #bruno x reader #pannacotta fugo x reader #fugo x reader #guido mista x reader #mista x reader #narancia ghirga x reader #narancia x reader #leone abbacchio x reader #abbacchio x reader #jjba x reader #vento aureo x reader #scarlet ribbons #my stuff #answered #Anonymous

460 notes · View notes

spiritualitygeek · 6 months

Text

What's Next For You In Love? (One-Card Reading)

Disclaimer: This pac is for entertainment purpose only. I am not liable for any actions or decisions taken or made based on the information presented in the reading. The interpretations and insights are subjective and open to individual perception. Please use your own judgment and intuition when applying the messages to your life or situation. Thank you!

Pile 1 🌤️

Card: 4oW

Signs: Gemini, Pisces, Capricorn

There's indications of a period of instability or potential conflict in matters of love and relationships for you, Pile 1.

✨ If you're already in a relationship, one or both of the following may happen:

- Conflict and Disagreements: There might be disagreements or tension within established relationships. This could arise from unaddressed issues or external stressors.

- Stagnation: Some relationships may experience a feeling of stagnation, where partners may feel like they're not progressing or growing together.

✨ If you've recently started seeing someone:

- Caution Needed: Be cautious when entering into a new relationship. There could be underlying issues or red flags that require attention.

- Misaligned Goals: Your potential partner may have differing long-term goals or values that could lead to challenges down the line.

✨ For my Single Individuals:

- Internal Conflict: I'm seeing a period of self-reflection and inner conflict for you. This might be a time to focus on personal growth and understanding your own desires and needs.

- Avoid Rushing In: Please take time, think through the pros and cons before jumping into a new romantic venture. Rushing into things might lead to complications.

✨ For lost and found connections:

- Challenges in Reconnecting: If you're considering rekindling a past relationship, there might be hurdles or unresolved issues to navigate before finding stability again.

To summarise:

You need to have an open and honest communication in your romantic situation, Pile 1. No matter what situation you're in. You're advises to be wise. To think before you take that leap of faith and to talk things out with your person before jumping to conclusions. Clearing the air and addressing concerns can lead to resolution.

Pile 11 🌧️

Card: Strength

Signs: Capricorn, Aquarius, Aries

There's indications of a period of balance, compassion, happiness and resilience in matters of love.

Also, while connecting with your card I also saw Aquamarine crystal. It is known for its calming and soothing energies. Here, although it implies the need for open, calm, and honest communication. You're encouraged to approach situations with a clear mind and a compassionate heart.

Additionally, the Aquamarine's connection to the element of water symbolizes emotional healing and purification, indicating a potential period of emotional renewal and growth in your love life.

✨ If you're already in a relationship, one or both of the following may happen:

- Rejuvenation: A period where you and your partner will draw upon your inner strength to overcome challenges and renew your bond. I'm seeing that balance of energies between you two.

- Emotional Fortitude: You'll find the courage to address any issues that may have been lingering, leading to a deeper connection. You're fostering compassion towards each other.

✨ If you've recently started seeing someone:

- Empowered Beginning: This signals a strong and positive start to a new relationship. Both parties will feel a sense of inner confidence and a willingness to support one another.

- Open-hearted Communication: You'll have the courage to express your true feelings and intentions, creating a foundation of trust. There'll be balance and harmony.

✨ For my Single Individuals:

- Self-Empowerment: I'm seeing a period of personal growth and self-discovery for you. You're finding a newfound confidence and ability to stand on your own. And that is not just good for your self esteem but also for attracting new love. And this love is not going to be someone. It'll most likely be "the one". When you're feeling your best, and acknowledging your importance and qualities, you attract people who do the same. So, the more love you give yourself, the more love you're attracting from your soulmate. All the best!! I'm so happy for you.

✨ For lost and found connections:

- Forgiveness and Healing: If you're seeking to reconcile with a past love, both parties here need to summon inner strength to forgive and move forward. Shift your focus from what was to what is and what can be.

Talk things out. Open and honest communication will open doors of reconciliation for you. Allow yourself to heal. Allow your relationship to heal.

To Summarise

Expect balance, trust, happiness, and hope in your love life. But it's crucial to keep in mind the advises above.

Pile III 🌦️

Card: 7oC

Signs: Pisces, Sagittarius, Virgo, Cancer, Capricorn, Scorpio

There's indications of confusion and many possibilities in the realm of love for you, pile 3.

Also, a song came up for y'all out of nowhere.

Now, the card VII of Cups along with the message of the song "Standing Next to You" by Jung Kook, is giving me fantasies, illusions, distractions, need for reassurance and stuff like that.

Ofcourse, the messages apply differently to different individuals and their situations and I've tried my best to make this reading inclusive of all.

So here you go:

✨ If you're already in a relationship:

- Choices and Fantasies: It's easy to get lost in daydreams when you're in love. Especially if you choose to imagine an idealized version of your partner over the original version of them. This can be particularly true if you're a water moon/Venus or 12th house Venus placements.

If this sounds like you, it's important to remember that your partner is human, just like you. They're not some perfect being descended from the heavens. They have flaws and imperfections, just like everyone else. That's completely normal and okay.

Instead of being disappointed by the gap between imagination and reality, take the time to truly know your partner. Spend quality time together, have meaningful conversations, and appreciate the person right next to you. This real, tangible connection is what truly matters.

The song's message, expressed in lyrics "Standing next to you," is a poignant reminder for you to focus on the here and now. It's your sign to cherish the present moment and the person who's chosen to be with you. Don't let yourself be swept away by fantasies. Embrace what you have, and with patience and time, your love will blossom into something beautiful.

✨ If you've recently started seeing someone:

- Overthinking Love: In the early stages of a new relationship, it's easy to have high expectations and fantasies. This is your warning against overthinking and idealizing fictional romance.

"Standing next to you" is a reminder for you to appreciate the person in front of you. Try to know them. Give them some time. That is, if you genuinely like them. And you feel the compatibility in the long run.

Otherwise, it's not worth it. Take a look around, maybe your "Standing next to you" is a totally different person and you've been looking everywhere but at them. Give it some thought!!

Confirmation: You have your sun or moon aspecting their sun or moon.

✨ For my Single Individuals:

- Choices and Opportunities: Y'all are really entering a time when you have many options in the dating world. Although, you're confused. Either because of this reading or in general. You're like, I'm not popular. What do you mean many options? Nobody looks at me?

Honey! Calm down. If you knew how many eyes are eyeing you, you'd be sick self-conscious all the time. So it's good that it's not obvious to you, yet.

Although, the channeled song is giving me hints in the sense that even with many options, there's a special connection who you either already cherish secretly or are totally oblivious about.

The song is also giving me hints about a specific someone. If you know someone who is your potential love interest, has their personal planets specifically sun or moon aspecting your sun or moon, this is them.

If you knew it already, perfect! If not, now you do! Find them, hold on to them. They're your person.

Good luck;)

✨ For lost and found connections:

- Dreams vs. Reality: If you're seeking to reconcile with a past love, I'm sensing the inner struggle between what was idealized and what actually transpired. You're still somewhat disappointed in them. They were good. Better than your other exes. But you still can't digest the fact that they didn't treat you a certain way as you imagined. And so, you sought it better to part ways.

Maybe there was compatibility issues even. You were disillusioned to their real personality. Something blinded you to see them differently. And that may or may not have been their fault.

Before jumping into anything, be clear about what you want from this relationship or any relationship in general and learn what they want too.

If you find a common ground, it's perfect! If not, who's gone is gone! They may not be the person for you.

Maybe there's someone better. Someone worth the wait. Someone with who you'll stand the test of time. Nothing and nobody will be able to divide you from them. And if you believe this person whom you're considering for reconciliation is that someone, go for it. But if not, please be patient. The song says "I'll be right here." This is a direct message from them, through divine.

Confirmation: You have your sun or moon aspecting their sun or moon.

To summarise:

It's important that you appreciate the present moment and value the person who's chosen to be with you. Don't let fantasies or illusions obscure the potential for a genuine and lasting connection.

Remember, love is about embracing imperfections and cherishing the person standing next to you. Because, while perfect love and partner can indeed be manifested, making it last requires real effort. It's about being present, understanding each other's imperfections, and working together to build something strong and lasting.

Thank you all for taking the time to read my pac. I hope the insights resonated with you and provided some guidance. If you found this helpful, I'd be grateful if you consider following me for more spiritual content and future tarot readings. Wishing you all love, light, and positivity on your journey! ✨

- With love, Snow ❄️

#tarot #tarotblr #tarotonline #pac tarot #pac reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card #pac #spirituality #love reading #love tarot

209 notes · View notes

thatlittleegyptologist · 7 months

Note

"stories with sex aren't emotionally impactful" what the fuck was that person on??? Like I get it's not for everyone, but sex can be an extremely emotionally intimate act between two people, I don't see how anyone can just write it off. And even then, 'horny' is an entirely valid emotion!!

ohhh it was an absolute riot. I posted the first chapter, which, by the way, has absolutely no sex in it whatsoever, not even a hint of it, and this person just waltzes into my comments section like:

and so I initially thought 'huh may be ace? ok cool, but this is in fact an E rated fic that fully says there'll be smut so...idk what you're doing here if you don't like that???'

So we had this little exchange wherein they told me that stories without smut were more emotionally impactful than those with it:

They didn't say anything after that, and they didn't comment on it again.

Several other commenters informed me that there's a couple of people within this fandom who...literally go to an E rated fic and either trash it for having smut or imply you're writing immoral/impure things and then come back to good ol' tungle.hell and talk shit about the author. I can only assume they're very young, because a) what? go outside, and b) I'm 34. If I want to write a fic about two characters in their 40s falling in love and having sex, alongside a bunch of other things...I'm gonna do it because I'm a grown ass adult, I pay taxes, and your opinion literally doesn't matter.

As it stands, this fic made multiple people cry and experience many other emotions, which I know because they commented and told me, so that commenter can go chew on some barbed wire!

183 notes · View notes

vynnytypesstuff · 2 years

Note

Hihi!! Since requests are open, i was wondering if i could request some dating headcanons for Sun Wukong and Macaque?? Please and thank you! I hope you are having an excellent day / night <3

꒰୨୧﹒Lego Monkie Kid - Dating Hcs for Sun Wukong and Macaque

Absolutely!! It's my pleasure, and I hope you're having an excellent day/night as well

Warnings: None

Sun Wukong

• You didn't know what to expect when you got into a relationship with the one and only Monkey King, so you were a bit surprised to discover that he was surprisingly casual. Despite his typically flamboyant nature, he doesn't attempt to go all out with extravagant dates and expensive gifts (he might if it's a special occasion). He wants to keep things simple and down-to-earth with you

• His love language when giving is words of affirmation. He loves giving you praise, compliments, encouragement, and motivation to help get you through the day. He puts so much thought and care into everything he says and it's the sweetest thing

• His love language when receiving is physical touch. He loves it when you hug him, scratch him behind his ears, pet his head, give him soft, slow kisses all over his body, all that good stuff

• Speaking of physical touch. There is soooo much physical affection with this man. One of his favorite things to do is to wrap his tail around you and pull you close to his side. He loves feeling you melt against him upon contact. He also enjoys carrying you in his arms (and ofc, it's a princess carry bc he's a bit cheesy like that)

• He doesn't mind PDA (in fact he seems to enjoy it quite a bit), so even if you're in public, he'll give you all the hugs and kisses you want if you're comfortable with it

• Expect cheesy pick-up lines/puns. He uses the classic "It looks like you've fallen for me" line after not-so-subtly tripping you with his tail

• He also likes to gently sneak up behind you, slowly place his hands over your eyes, and whisper "guess who" into your ear. He may overuse this a bit, but he loves it when you play along

• Petnames galore! He's constantly experimenting with petnames, taking mental notes of your reactions to each of them and seeing which ones work best. Some examples of ones that he's tried are "peach blossom," "sunshine," and "firework"

• He has trouble opening up to you. With his almighty status and years of heroic deeds in his resume, he's taught himself to bottle up his emotions. If he's feeling upset or anxious, he'll either work to distract himself or distance himself. It may take some time to get him to properly communicate, so you're going to have to be patient with him

• Part of him gets jealous if someone else "steals" your attention away from him. Deep down, he likes it when your attention is on him and him alone. He won't say anything, but there'll be pouting from his end. If you try to question him about it, though, he'll deny being jealous

• When you need some fresh air or a getaway from stress, he'll take you on cloud rides! The clouds are incredibly soft, so sometimes you two will take naps on them

• When you two are cuddling, he'll tell your stories of all his past adventures. He has a natural talent for storytelling, especially with his strangely impressive ability give each "character" distinct voices

• He adores going to festivals with you! Having the love of his life there makes them infinitely more fun. You two play games, buy tons of snacks, look through all the goods for sale, and, if there's music, dance together. Nights like those are always ones that you never forget

Liu’er Mihou/Macaque

• Don't misunderstand, Macaque may seem rough around the edges, but he is a HUGE softie!! He isn't very experienced with romance, meaning he may not always know what he's doing, but he does his best to make it enjoyable for the both of you.

• His love language when giving is acts of service. He enjoys doing nice things for you such as cooking for you, carrying your belongings when you're in public, or helping you fall asleep

• His love language when receiving is quality time. As cliché as it may be, his favorite moments are the ones spent with you (bonus if there's no one else around). Home is an ideal spot for you two to spend time together, as you live in a secluded area where no one can bother you

• Hear me out… Macaque being a plant nerd. When you two are on walks, he'll nonchalantly point out all the unique flowers and plants that he sees. He doesn't want to annoy you with "unnecessary information" so he'll only mention their names before moving on, but if you ask him to tell you more about the plant, he'll internally be thrilled by the chance to flex his knowledge

• Protective, not to the point where it's overbearing, of course. He doesn't want anything to happen to you. After all, you're the best thing that's ever happened to him. If he's feeling anxious for your safety, he'll send one of his shadow clones to look after you

• If you're up for it, he'll train you to ensure that you can defend yourself if he isn't there to protect you.

• He's constantly looking out for you. He wants to ensure that you're taking care of yourself. Did you get enough sleep? Are you feeling alright? Have you eaten today? It's almost impossible to get anything past him

• On the contrary, he spends so much time looking after you that he forgets to check in on himself, so PLEASE be sure to give him attention as well. Treat him to something nice (bathes are a good place to start) or tell him how much you love and appreciate him

• Surprise, he has a nice singing voice! It's low and melodious with a calming aura that helps you relax. He doesn't really sing on his own, but he'll do it if you ask him to

• He's hesitant on physical affection, but once he gets a dose of it, he begins to crave it more and more. He hadn't realized how touch-starved he was. At first, he won't say anything about it in fear of scaring you off, but he'll begin to open after some continued reassurance

• You're one of the only people who has seen him without his glamour. The first time was an accident and he hadn't meant for you to see him, but after he realized that you still loved him, he was less self-conscious about not wearing his glamour around you

• He prefers making you gifts as opposed to buying them. Cards, bouquets, food, jewelry, you name it. He wants to make you feel special by putting his own spin on everything he gives you

Hope this is good!

#lego monkie kid #lmk #sun wukong x reader #macaque x reader #romantic hcs #dating hcs #headcanons #askblog #askbox is open #vynnytypesstuff

464 notes · View notes

wingedcat13 · 2 years

Text

Synovus: Siren Call (1)

[Surprise! Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me! I took a break from writing these for a bit, but I did want to get through the idea I had about something from Minerva's perspective. This one is in third person, set after Villains Never Retire. No idea what I'm talking about? Check out the first of the Synovus works here! There'll be a bit of a delay, but this one will join the rest of the Synoverse up on Ao3 here. How many parts will this be? I've learned my lesson, I'm not estimating.]

Minerva had stopped expecting her life to be ‘normal’ before she’d graduated High School.

When at 16 you were already having to downplay your physical strength to avoid taking doors off of their hinges, and realizing that you could never, ever join the swim team even if you could absolutely destroy any of the times they posted, there were a few other things your mind put together in the background.

Like the fact that you would never be safe again.

Hiding things about herself wasn’t exactly conducive to the kind of relationship she wanted, so romance was dead. That was fine at the time, actually, most of the people she’d been interested in had turned out to be more interested in… well, a variety of things ranging from other people to free emotional support. The point was, she’d been more upset by the idea that any of her personal goals for a career were now permanently marred by the terror that she’d have to do some kind of blood test that would brand her as a ‘cape.’

And that it would have to be hidden was never even a question. Sure, there were heroes around who people were proud of when she was younger. But every so often, those heroes would go out to fight, and be seen again as scorched remains in a crater left by a man called Sunhallow. Other villains, too. People said he was targeting anyone who might be a threat to him if they didn’t work for him.

Kids in her classes had mostly made fun of the costume.

Even after Sunhallow’s disappearance and rumored death, when she was in her senior year, people were wary. Things like Sunhallow didn’t just die. They always came back. There was always a second shoe to drop.

And no one knew about her then, not yet, so she thought maybe... maybe she could live a little?

Going off to college had felt like the last chance she had at any degree of ‘normalcy’ and even that was tempered by the gnawing sense of something missing, something wrong. She’d put it down to anxiety about her classes and pushed through it, sure it would eventually pass.

Minerva hadn’t been a teenager for about two decades now. But that sense of… something missing had never really gone away.

She'd experimented with drinking and with a few variations on marijuana, and a variety of at-home remedies like aromatherapy and meditations. She'd tried a therapist, twice, even though she felt like she couldn't tell them everything about herself, and she knew that kind of defeated a lot of the point of therapy. And that gnawing feeling continued, until it seemed stranger to imagine a world without it.

There were times it was so muted, so quiet that she could forget about it - when she was in a fight, or diving, or when Alexandria had been little. Sometimes Albion could drive it away, and make her feel sane.

But she’d never felt quite as… at peace, as she did when she was in costume. That was the only time, the only place, that the sense of something missing really faded away.

Plenty of people had told her that every cape had something deeply wrong with them, to be the kind of person to do what they did. Minerva had never corrected them.

—-

“You’re awake early.”

Minerva glanced over one shoulder, unsurprised to see Synovus draped against half of her doorframe. She’d left the door open, and Synovus was very carefully on the edge where she could shut the door in their face, if she’d wanted. Trying not to be an intrusion, even as they unrepentantly stuck their metaphorical nose into her business.

“Judging by your face, you haven’t slept.” Minerva said critically.

Synovus made a noise of mock dismay, and Minerva risked giving them a closer look. Yes, the bags under their eyes were more pronounced than usual, and their hair was a barely-contained mess, but none of that worried her. The haphazard state of their clothing was, frankly, par for the course around the island these days.

“Evil never sleeps, m-Minerva.” The slip up was slight, covered for quickly and smoothly. Once, she wouldn’t have caught it. Now, she knew Synovus better.

‘My Dear Minerva,’ they’d almost said.

Minerva ignored it.

“I’m taking that trip to the mainland I talked about.” She explained, turning her back on the most confusing human being she’d ever known in favor of checking her case’s contents for the third time.

Synovus hummed, and Minerva stiffened on reflex. She relaxed almost as quickly, but still mentally scolded herself. Synovus hummed when they were uncertain of themselves, not to try and trap her into an argument. They’d said several times that she was both welcome to stay and to leave at her discretion.

This was normal. This was fine.

“If you should… need anything, while you’re out there-“ Synovus was picking their words carefully, skirting around potential condescension or worry to come off as affable, almost disinterested. It didn’t really work.

“I will be fine.” Minerva says firmly, turning to glare if need be.

Instead, she meets Synovus’s gaze. Their eyes are clear for the moment, no shadows flickering, no lights swirling. Instead, the only thing she sees in them is… confidence.

“I know.” Synovus says, and even the faint lilt of humor isn’t enough to hide the certainty in that statement. They clear their throat, “I have no misgivings about your strength and ability to use it, Lady Minerva. But, should you wish to be better than ‘fine’ while out and about in the world…”

They trail off, and Minerva wonders, idly, if it’s possible to push them so far into discomfort that they start using ‘thee’ instead of ‘you.’ She’d rather think about that than the sheer faith Synovus had in her, and what that might mean aside from further proof Synovus was -

There were too many ways to finish that sentence. Her mind rejected all of them with a studious determination before Synovus realized she wasn’t going to finish their sentence either.

“… you will call?” They asked softly.

A few months ago, Minerva might’ve sneered at the implication she would ever ask Synovus for anything. But then she’d been captured, ‘outmaneuvered’ by a pair of up-and-coming villains with a hostage trick, and then each and every one of her backup plans came crashing down when her daughter had been thrown into a trap right beside her.

And then there had been rain in the desert, and the sound of a Villain’s taunt ringing through the spire’s PA system, and eventually - Synovus themself, there to take both of them home. Even if they’d had several reasons to do it that had nothing to do with her, or Alexandria.

“One day, Minerva.” Synovus had murmured then, “I'm going to prove to you that my affection for you is not a trap”

“I’ll call when I’m on my way back to the island.” Minerva said coolly now, closing a mental door on the reverie. “If only so you don’t wake your entire staff in a panic.”

Synovus winced. A week prior, the sensors that alerted any Cape’s approach to the island had mis-triggered, mistaking a particularly dense patch of seagulls for someone with flight making an unauthorized approach. Watching the way everyone leapt to alarm stations and fell immediately into place had been impressive. Watching a sleep deprived Synovus throw their helmet at the birds (and miss) once they’d realized what had happened had been hilarious.

"Who's panicking?" The bleary voice comes from behind Synovus, and they shift aside to let Alexandria through.

Minerva's wayward teenage daughter looked like she was still contemplating waking up - like her body had just gotten ahead of schedule, and the rest of her hadn't caught up yet. Synovus ruffled her hair affectionately as she passed.

"No one yet, though the night's still young." Synovus replied, while Alexandria stepped forward to hug Minerva.

Minerva was still trying to learn not to hug too tightly, every time something happened. Logically, she knew there was nowhere in the world safer than Synovus's island. And she knew her daughter could defend herself.

But Minerva had been afraid of losing her long before she'd ever been born, and that fear didn't die easy.

"It's seven in the morning." Minerva scolded over Alexandria's shoulder.

Synovus frowned, and made a show of finding their phone to squint at the time it displayed. Their frown deepened, as though they had caught the bit of technology lying to them.

Alexandria had shifted from a full hug to standing to one side, still leaning on Minerva. "I'll call Rosie." She threatened. The yawn that cut her off kept her from living up to her chosen moniker.

Synovus shrugged, slipping the phone back into a pocket. "I won't sleep any faster if they're yelling at me." They point out. "Anyway, your mother-" It was always 'your mother' in front of Alexandria, "-agreed to call ahead on her way back. So we don't get another birdstrike scenario."

"It'd be more like the time with the dolphins." Alexandria remarked. Minerva raised a brow, looking from her daughter back to Synovus, who turned both hands palm up and looked mildly chagrined.

"Nevermind, I'm sure I don't want to know." Minerva says, waving it off both to avoid the headache, and because she's still itching to get going.

Alexandria knows the tone well enough - she gives Minerva another squeeze, then slips away to join Synovus by the doorway. She yawns again, and calls back over her shoulder, "Tell Gran and Gramps I said hi."

When she's gone again, Synovus and Minerva consider each other - one hesitant, the other wary. After a moment, Synovus extends a hand, offering, "Safe travels."

Minerva checks their palm for a sign of something they might be trying to slip her before shaking it. "Thanks." She said flatly.

And if she finds herself rubbing her fingers on the walk down to the beach, well, it's a subconscious tic. Unrelated.

---

There’s a common phrase that’s worked it’s way into becoming a whole saying.

“You never forget your first.”

For most people, that’s a marker of a degree of intimacy - a first crush, a first kiss, a first sexual experience. But it holds true for other things as well - like a first horrific allergic reaction. And arguments can be made that that’s all love really is, anyway.

Among the caped community, there’s a different list of firsts. The first person you told about your abilities. The first time you found out you had abilities. The first other hero you’d ever met. A popular ice breaker at parties is ‘the first person you ever saved.’

Less popular are the counterpoints: the first person you couldn’t save. The first villain you encountered. The first time you had to choose in the heat of a moment, and you chose wrong.

For Minerva, a terrifying amount of her caped ‘firsts’ have the same name - Albion.

He’d been the first person to find out about her abilities, and the first powered person she’d ever met face to face. A misunderstanding wherein he thought she’d been swept out to sea by a riptide and she assumed the figure dropping from the sky was out to get her had resulted in a very confused half-fight, wherein they’d saved each other from their own nonsense.

She’d thought once that that was how it would always be - saving each other. Things had turned out more in favor of the slap-fighting and misunderstandings.

—-

Minerva is working up the courage to get out of her car when her phone buzzes.

Alex: So how’s it going?

Despite herself, Minerva smiles, just a little. She can’t put her finger on why, and doesn’t try to.

Min: I’ve only just gotten here. Haven’t even knocked on the door yet.

Alex: Okay, then how was the drive?

Min: It was fine.

Minerva grimaces. That feels insufficient. She wracks her memory for something else to add, but the drive was hardly anything, nothing stands out. Before she can come up with something else, there’s a response:

Alex: Y’know, I should’ve offered to fly you over.

Minerva raises an eyebrow.

Min: And why’s that?

Alex: I still want to let you talk to them alone and everything, but they could’ve just seen me drop you off, and been like “who’s that really cool goth girl?”

Alex: And you could say something like “I have much to tell you” and bam, ice broken.

Min: Is Synovus giving you advice on dramatic entrances?

Alex: You never told me that one time they stole a whole cruise ship for the ambiance.

Min: Is that what they’re calling it?

Minerva’s mouth twitches again. Yes, Synovus had commandeered a cruise ship, and spent the whole fight spouting off about how it was good to have ‘variety’ in one’s combat scenarios. They’d also convinced part of the ship’s entertainment crew to set up a big ‘reveal’ of who had taken over the ship, as though anyone else would’ve bothered to think of musical cues.

She’d been tempted to sink the ship.

While Alexandria goes briefly radio-silent - presumably to grill Synovus for more details on the cruise ship story - Minerva looks up towards the house she’s never seen before.

It’s a relatively unassuming one-story. It’s ten minutes on foot from here to where the coast starts, and she could have her feet in the water by the fifteen minute mark. The sound of the waves is different here than it is on the island - there aren’t any cliffs or underwater tunnels, only the long smooth curve of a beach made more of rocks than sand. It’s soothing.

A twitch of a curtain in one window reminds her she’s looking at the house, not the ocean. Mentally, she scolds herself for wasting time.

She allows herself one last white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, and one last deep breath.

Then Minerva gets out of her car, and goes to talk to the parents she hasn’t seen in seven years.

—-

When Minerva became a hero, it went something like this:

She’d always been a strong swimmer. Her family lived near the water line, always, so it wasn’t unusual for her to come into contact with the ocean at least once a day, when the weather was fair, and rain or snow when it wasn’t.

Her parents had always seemed overly cautious about calling her out of the water before it got too cold, or before she could get too tired, but that’s any child’s perspective. She wouldn’t get sick from a bit of splashing around, even if there were frost films on the windows and flurries in the air. And as she got older, they trusted her to know her limits more and more, and her confidence had only grown.

Which was why, when they’d seen the small crowd gathering at the road not far from where they lived at the time and heard the murmurs that someone had been swept out to sea, Minerva had been absolutely certain that she could save them.

She’d gone home, put on her wetsuit, and been out of her window in minutes. It wasn’t hard to find a cove out of sight of the news crews and nervous watchers. And even as the light was dimming, she didn’t feel afraid.

Because once Minerva was in the water, nothing could touch her.

It wasn’t as though she didn’t feel the currents, the motions of the waves - she did. They just didn’t have sway over her unless she allowed it. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t tell the light was darkening, or the temperature falling - she could. They were just minor shifts, like the movement of a sunbeam across her arms while she read in the windowsill.

So Minerva had swept out on the same current that had ripped a man from the shallows, and looked for the signs of a person’s floundering.

This, admittedly, had been the weakest part of her plan, because she had no idea how to find someone in the vast expanse of potential that was the ocean. All she really had going for her was that she was fast, could manually follow the currents, and didn’t get cold. And, she eventually realized, she might’ve been looking for a corpse instead of a person, and how would she find that?

Those doubts had just had time to start to settle when she found him.

Minerva never did learn his name, but he was a few years older than her, there visiting his family, which was why he hadn’t known the signs he needed to look out for. He knew what a riptide was, and that he was supposed to try and swim parallel to shore to escape it, but everything happened so fast and it was so cold, that all he could really do was tread water. At least, that’s the story she got out of him as she towed him back to shore.

The only time her courage had faltered had been when he’d asked for her name, after she’d brought him to the secluded cove, and directed him towards the crowd.

“You saved my life.” He’d explained, still dazed and weak. “Who do I - how do I thank you?”

And there had been a sudden feeling of ice water down her spine, as she’d remembered the stories of what happened to people who were saviors.

“Tell them a Naiad saved you.” She’d called, moving back into the waves. “It’s true enough!”

There’d been speculation that he misheard her, and that her name was ‘Maya’ for a while. But in the end, the story faded - and Minerva never forgot.

—-

There’s no good, simple way to repair a cut tie with someone you love.

Whether things frayed until they snapped, withered and disintegrated, or were cut cleanly, that thread can never be respun. You have to start over, and try and weave with the tangled threads of what’s left.

Sometimes the threads are still the same color - soft pastels of passing friendships that blend well enough when they’re given the opportunity. Sometimes you find that while you weren’t looking (and sometimes when you were) the threads have been dyed, and the red that meant love once has been shot through with the purples of bruises and resentment, its original hues shifted to rage. That was what Minerva expected to find, when she came home. That’s what most of her own tapestry looked like these days, after all.

Instead, she found the golden honey color of home.

—-

It took a few hours for them to all wind up at the kitchen table. They’d covered for some of the awkwardness by showing her the house - her father’s most recent crochet project, pictures of last year’s garden, how her mother had finally decided to organize the spice cabinet after six years of deliberation and relabeling.

(She’d frowned and swapped two canisters while Minerva’s father wasn’t looking, and Minerva nearly cried at the familiarity of it.)

Then had come the insistence of refreshments, of warm drinks against the coolness of the weather. The porch was a bit damp, and the living room a bit dark, but the table was mostly clear so long as she didn’t mind shuffling aside a few skeins of yarn, would that do?

And so they’d settled in, as the rain drummed softly into the roof and dripped from the overhang that shielded the window. And her father had taken a breath, met her eyes, and said,

“We love you. And you don’t owe us a damn thing.”

Minerva had blinked. That wasn’t what she was expecting.

Her mother nodded firmly, adding, “Not an explanation, not an apology - if you want to talk about any of it, Min, you know - I want you to know - that we’ll listen, anytime, anywhere. But if all you want is to come over for dinner, then that’s all we’ll do.”

Minerva stared at her cup, trying to think of where to begin. What would be polite - no, they didn’t stand on manners with family. What would be right- well, by whose standards? What did she want?

Finally, she croaked, “I think I - I want you to ask.”

And so they did.

And so Minerva told them.

She told them about how she’d become slowly convinced that her continued nearness to them was putting them in danger. She told them about how Albion was always reminding her of the need to be cautious, the importance of not ever being caught. She told them about how sometimes he’d bring up the Sunhallow purges, and try to make a plan for what they’d do if it ever happened again.

She told them about how he’d begged her to make the move, citing crime rates and health statistics and population graphs, anything to get her to concede they would be better - safer - away from the city, further inland. If not for her, then for their child. And how she’d eventually caved, because if he was so worried, and this would bring him more peace of mind, then she could bear it. It would keep the people she loved safe.

She told them about how she’d tried to look into finding a place near water - a lake, a pond, a river. Every time, Albion had assured her that he was keeping that in mind, but that he’d handle it, really. She didn’t need to stress, especially when she was keeping up with so much otherwise. He admired her for being able to manage so much, the house and the hero gig, and could he just do this one thing for her?

She told them about how the house had been twenty minutes away from the nearest large water source. About how she’d begged him for something - anything. A koi pond. A pool. A goddamned well.

“Think about how that would look to the neighbors, ‘Thena.” He’d said worriedly. “I know you - you get underwater and you don’t come out for hours. They’ll think you’re drowning yourself.”

So they’d bought the largest tub she could find, and she’d spent as much time as she could submerged in it, staring at its porcelain sides and the bathroom lighting and feeling like a fish in a bowl. She’d told herself it was a selfish thought.

She told them about how he would sometimes grab her too roughly, or slam things around her. Sometimes it was a joke, played off as training her instincts. Sometimes it wasn’t.

“I just - you’re the only person in the whole world I can let my guard down around.” He’d muttered to her, mid-apology after a shove had left her sternum aching and purple. “I love you so much, I don’t stop to think.”

Somehow, she’d wound up being the one comforting him.

And she chokes out how having accepted those reasons made it easier to believe them herself, when Alex had the occasional bruise. When she reached out to slap her hand away from something, or pulled a bit too roughly. It felt like validation for everything Albion had said - look, it was easy to fall into. It didn’t mean anything.

It happened all the time.

And there was no one, by then, to tell her otherwise, because friendships were liabilities and risks that they couldn’t take, because it wasn’t right to endanger others with a secret they would never share. There were no work friends. No PTA rivalries. No soccer parent associations.

There was only the house, and the freedom that came from going out in costume. And even then, there could be no interviews, and every statement had to be carefully measured so that no one - not a villain, or a civilian, or even another hero - could learn something they shouldn’t.

Laying it out like this, Minerva realizes that it’s no wonder she only ever felt like herself in a fight. It was the only time she didn’t have to hold back any part of who she was.

She’s expecting her parents to condemn her for not realizing when she’d turned from - (her mind skitters away from the term ‘abused’) bystander to accomplice in Albion’s behavior. She’s expecting hurt that she didn’t trust them to make their own decisions about risks. She’s expecting them to say they taught her better than this.

Instead, they listen. Even when there are times one or both tightens their grip on their mugs, or wrestles to avoid showing some emotion (because it is no mystery where she got her temper; none of them are strangers to righteous rage) they do not interject outside of the quiet, prompting questions. And when she finally stumbles to a halt, before she’s even gotten to Synovus and the kidnapping, her mother comes to kneel beside her and wrap her arms around her, while her father stands at her other shoulder and does the same.

“You’re free now?” Her mother asks, running her fingers through Minerva’s hair. “You and Alex both?”

Minerva nods. She clears her throat, enough to force two words out, “Albion’s dead.”

She realizes that there’s an implication there, that she wielded the spear that killed him. The idea doesn’t hurt as much as it would’ve once - but neither of her parents so much as blink.

“Good.” Her mother says firmly. “Then that’s all you need to focus on right now, Min. No matter how long it takes you to untangle the knots he’s tied you in - you’re free.”

—-

Truth be told, Minerva doesn’t know when her parents figured out she had powers. For all she knows, they had known since she was born.

But one night, when she and Albion had been staying with her parents for a week, and they’d gone out to fight, they came back to see one of her parents on the porch, the other in the windowsill.

“You’re both alright?” Her father had asked.

No surprise. No exclamations. No how-could-yous. Concern. Acknowledgement. A reminder of when breakfast would be ready.

And that was that.

—-

The guest room in their new house isn’t the same as a childhood bedroom, but to Minerva, it feels similar. She’s under their roof again, with all the reflexive memories and half-forgotten ones tugged along with them.

She had expected to feel… well, different. Not good, probably kind of bad. And she didn’t feel lighter yet, the way people said confessions were supposed to make you feel. Instead, Minerva felt… raw. Sticky. Like the truth she’d tried to ‘set free’ had just come back to cling to her.

She was too emotionally exhausted to try and parse that. Better to get some sleep, if she could.

Minerva unzipped her suitcase, flipping it open on the bed. Her suitcase, that she’d checked so many times over. The suitcase with all of her clothing and things in perfect organization, untouched.

And a postcard sitting loose on top of them.

It had to have been custom-made. There was no stamp, for one thing, no actual postal markings. Just the same shape and size, with the same stylized ‘Wish you were here’ emblazoned across a picture… a picture of Synovus. On the beach. In full costume. With the necessary additions of a woven wide-brim hat and loose Hawaiian floral shirt left unbuttoned, on top of the helmet and body armor. They were holding a glass of juice with a little umbrella and a silly straw.

Alone in this bedroom that wasn’t hers, but might’ve been, Minerva burst out laughing.

#Synoverse #Siren Call #Naiad #Synovus #tw abuse mention #Did I sit on this for an absurdly long time?#Yes #Did I know immediately that I wanted that fucking postcard to be in this piece?#Also yes

950 notes · View notes

nanomooselet · 3 months

Text

Little but Fierce II

Sorry, sorry, I changed my mind - first up I'll explain Milly's absence, and why that's important. (Thus no pictures, sorry. Also this is extremely long.)

Stampede definitely skews toward an older demographic than the ‘98 anime; shounen this is not, not even a little. I remember the director (I think?) saying Cowboy Bebop was an influence, and I do see it. Structurally they're both very musically-driven - each episode explores a variation on the theme until the climax. But there's some thematic similarities too, sort of, mostly around the way the Bebop crew related to each other. It's a found family, yes. But found inevitably first means having lost. And there's a few ways to lose a family, but the one in this post might be the most common.

Stampede talks about fighting to grow up - moving from the security of childhood to the freedom of adulthood, and what inevitably gets left behind.

Under good circumstances, childhood is certain and safe. You're provided everything you need and your caregivers will protect you. You're not held responsible for anything, since you're still learning the shape of the world, and not expected to perform, achieve, or provide. It's the job of your caregivers to do those for you while you acquire practical and social skills, support your body's healthy development, and form a stable sense of self and an identity of your own. Under ideal circumstances, you'll get the opportunity to make plenty of mistakes but face no permanent consequences, just an explanation of how you went wrong you can learn from - since mistakes are how you learn. This is how you build your confidence and in general become better at the whole "human being" business, which believe me does actually take practice and is not inherent. Not everyone figures it out, either.

On the other hand, you also don't really have choices or power, and your reality is confined, any edges rounded. Without consequences there also isn't change. Your identity isn't your own. You are a child of your parents or the ward of your caregivers - you belong to them, in a sense are part of them, because you're their responsibility. Many experiences are gated from you until you mature. In general the world is a simple place and your feelings feel very big, but lack complexity. You're sad, happy, or angry from head to toe, but only one at a time and not over much. It feels important, but that's because kids can't have perspective. It's always the most important thing to them because they haven't experienced anything more important yet.

Adulthood is less safe but more free - you have to fulfil your own desires and defend yourself. Social connections are yours to try to form. You will likely have to work to provide for yourself, and perhaps others - it's no longer anyone's job to do that for you. You are accountable, you are responsible, your actions have consequences that rebound not only on you but upon others, good or bad. Outcomes are also more uncertain, and mistakes can be proportionately harder to recover from.

But you have autonomy - selfhood, identity are yours to claim. Choices are your own to make. There are downsides but also advantages, opportunities for greater happiness but also inevitable pain, and in general more subtle, complex emotions and situations. It can be very hard. But it can also be very beautiful.

Inevitably, humans being mammals and having such utterly helpless infants, there'll be at one point in your life you play the role of child to a caregiver. Odds are fairly good you'll also be caregiver to a child at least once (or something like one). Think how many of us have pets. Or even an older sibling to a younger. Teacher to a student. Such relationships always shape us, whichever role you occupy. There's a common archetype in folklore of the "mother of death", because whoever you were before becoming a parent has to die, at least a little, to make room for the vast responsibility of parenthood - think of giving up a career to raise a family, for example. And creating a life means inevitably you have invoked a death. All that lives, in time, will die.

Got all that?

So Stampede and arguably Trigun as a whole is about what happens when you fuck with it.

Good circumstances, yeah, you aren't going to find those. Let's see how hard people try anyway. Let's see what happens when care of a child is suddenly assumed by someone unprepared - or when a child is forced to assume a caregiving role. Or when a child never receives a childhood before being unmade, destroyed, but still surviving to claim the freedom of adulthood. What do they become?

(Am I talking about Wolfwood? Legato? You tell me.)

Are the Plants here to take care of us or ours to take care of? Can we only take from them or is there some way to give back? Can it be mutual? Or must we pick a side?

We don't have Milly yet because Milly resolves the argument. She's someone who sees no reason to pick a side. She's a very caring, protective person who also has no problem with being taken care of - she's happy to defer to Meryl, whom she has great respect for. And Meryl has respect for her too. It's a very good working relationship! Which, uh, unfortunately doesn't leave a lot of room for exploration of the main conflict, and might have been why they faded out a bit in the later volumes.

The purpose of switching Milly with Roberto was to create that conflict. There are a lot of mothers in Stampede but not many places for dads. And one thing I very much have come to appreciate is that both were afforded equal flaws, redemption and sympathy. There's no bumbling useless fathers, or blandly nice mothers (even Rem, who comes the closest, had terrible regrets, and I get the feeling we haven't seen the last of her. Really, around this point in the story in the older tellings a lot of people still thought she was Vash's dead girlfriend, so let's not hasten to judge). Rosa is a hard woman and she turns on Vash, but she has her reasons and Knives punishes her far too cruelly. Brad's kind of an asshole, but it's because he cares so deeply and doesn't know how to talk about it.

Roberto is jaded, but he takes his responsibility seriously and he's a good teacher to Meryl. He isn't just a vehicle for exposition.

Nor does he treat her badly in any way. Meryl feels perfectly safe snatching away his booze and talking back to him. They become fond of and comfortable around each other so quickly because they both decent and clever people, fundamentally similar. It's built on mutual respect, trust and communication.

Compare to how Knives interacts with Vash, how long the pauses are in their reunion in the diner. Knives is trying to be gentle, but Vash is so terrified he can't finish a sentence, can hardly speak at all, his voice is shaking so badly. Knives sneers when Vash doesn't instantly react with affection. Which is… insane considering this is exactly how it was the last time they met: Knives gruesomely murders someone, smearing the walls and floor with blood, and then expects Vash to be grateful or impressed. Their relationship is one in the process of slowly but violently shattering.

Meryl is very young in Stampede. She's got some significant character flaws. But it's hard for her not to do better than that.

Part I

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX

#trigun stampede #trigun meta #tristampparty #roberto de niro #milly thompson #meryl stryfe #i swear i will talk directly about HER in the next post #i really am too gay for meryl to function help #or possibly happy to talk more shit about knives #terrible terrible plant man #meta: little but fierce

30 notes · View notes

perfectprofessorloverapricot · 5 months

Text

•| A not so stolen youth |•

Stranger things / chapter 2

Summary: Everything in life seemed limited to walls of whites and rainbows. Caged within the confines of the lab. But an accident that involved a group of teenagers and the upside down world finally let him free. In a funny turn of events he found himself hiding in a step sibling's shed. A redhead that loves video games and a blond that spends his time making sure to keep his good looks.

Character: Male child OC

Warnings: Possible to descriptive scenes, child abuse, use of drugs and bad language.

A/N: I ask you to take into account that I lack experience writing in English and there'll be some grammatical mistakes because my native language is Spanish.

Prev part - Masterlist - Next part

To say that Billy was surprised is an understatement. A whole week came and went without any inconvenience.

The asshole he has as a father isn’t even suspicious that there’s basically a fifth person living with them. In the shed, but still under their roof.

He is never, ever, going to say it out loud but he admires the guts Max has to look at Neil during diners and give no hint of any other emotion than the hate and forced respect she already harbors towards the man.

He became a silent witness of her plan. Watching her pretend to be tired earlier in the nights and leave to her room to rest only to jump through her window the next second to hang out with the boy in the shed.

And talking about the boy. The only way Billy could describe him is, strange. The boy is as silent as a mouse. He appears and disappears without making a noise. Which is creepy in the most part but thankfully helpful.

The asshole of his father has been busy recreating his righteous façade in front of everyone in Hawkins to actually pay attention to any mistake or misbehavior he does.

He could even bet that it has been the best week he’s had in years.

As for Thirteen, he’s living the best three weeks of his entire life.

Clean clothes instead of a gown, a roof to protect him, outside of the lab, learning to read comics and with a real friend.

Max even brought him to the arcade once, in the night and when it was about to close. It didn’t end that well as she thought it would. That night she found out the boy has a sensitive hearing after he bolted out of the place. ‘Too much noise’ is what he said. Since the arcade wasn’t an option anymore she came up with another idea. She would teach him how to skate.

Fortunately, she had her skateboard with her.

It was to be expected that Thirteen would fall a few times, it was his first time in his life doing a physical activity and didn’t have any kind of coordination with his feet.

When they went back to the house, Thirteen was covered in dirt, a couple of bruises and scratches but he had such a big smile in his face that only by looking at it Max couldn’t help but do the same.

Little by little Thirteen has started to open more to Max and vice versa, making it obvious that he is comfortable with her. He likes to hear about her day in the school with the other kids, the way she tells the story of a group of stalkers reminds him of the way she reads the comics. And she likes that she can openly talk about whatever she wants without the fear o being judge.

Things are working better than they both expected.

Until the day everything would change finally arrived.

Halloween.

Max loves Halloween and she’s made it clear every time she tells him stories of what she did back in Cali. She wanted him to come with her this year but after what happened in the arcade he is a little uneasy.

Besides, the only reason he wanted to be part of a big group of kids was to make a friend. He was looking for someone to help him stop being alone, and now that he has Max there’s no reason to go out there that much. Now the fear of being found is the only thing that remains in his mind.

“Still don’t want to go with me?” Asked Max to the kid seating in her closet.

The boy smiled and shook his head.

“You could use a sheet to cover yourself completely like in the E.T. movie I showed you. The group of stalkers will be there…” at least, she hopes they’ll be there after her step brother almost ran over them with the car after school. “We’ll meet in the street for trick or treat.”Thirteen frowned a little, considering the pros and cons in his head but the worry was still evident in his face. “Still don’t want to?”

The boy pressed his lips together before shaking his head.

Max was internally disappointed but she understood his fear. She already tried running away to her biological father when she found out they were moving from Cali to Hawkins. She was just as paranoid and worried. She only lasted a few hours away from her house, and she doesn’t how log has the kid been hiding.

“Are we still up for sweets and comics, though?” She asked getting an instant nod from the boy with a big smile.

She was confused for a second when she saw his smile fall and glance at the door. The boy slide the door of the closet almost completely, avoiding being engulf by total darkness, just in time when her mother opened her bedroom door.

“Sweetie, do you have your costume yet?” She asked in her always flowery and nervous tone. Max still doesn’t get why she is so jittery with her own daughter.

“Yeah, this.” Max rose the mask of Michael Myers and fake knife she had in her hands. She already had her black coverall that belonged to her father on. The measures were changed to fit by Susan herself a year ago and fits perfectly.

Her mother gave her a little forced smile. “Are you sure? I could try to make something with the things in the closet. There’s still time.” She recommended, pointing at the closet in the hallway.

Max pressed her lips in a thin line. Comments like that are common from her mother. She knows that Susan would like to have a more feminine daughter. One that prefers to use make up. One that has girls as friends to go shopping with instead of boys to skateboard with in the neighborhood. One that likes princesses and romance instead of monsters and assassins.

But she wasn’t like that and she’s didn’t want to be like that.

“No. This is fine.” She said.

Her mother nodded with the forced smile still in her face. “Okay then. Am. Have fun.” Not knowing what else to say she turned back and closed the door behind her.

Max let out the breath she was holding. Why everything in her life has to be weird?

She turned to the closet when she heard it slide open. The boy looked at her with his brows furrowed in worry. She looked upset.

Max understood the look. Her friends used to look at her the same way back in Cali. “It’s just-“ She pointed at the door with her thumb but didn’t know what to say or to explain. “I-“ she was interrupted when Billy passed by the door saying her name in a singsong tone.

“Max~” Even though it sounded like he was happy Max could still identify the dangerous threat deep down.

“Just a minute.” She yelled when she heard his footsteps going further in the hall. She turned back to the kid as she walked backwards to the door. “Comics and sweets when I return?”

The boy nodded.

“Max. I’m leaving.” Shouted Billy from the front door, his singsong tone completely gone.

Feed up with him she opened the door and yelled her answers rushing down the hall. “I’m coming.”

Thirteen blinked a few times, watching in curiosity at the opened door. He still doesn’t understand their bond. They seem to care and know about the other but act so hostile.

Max closed the front door behind her, already out of the house, finding Billy leaning against his car with a lit cigarette in his mouth. He was invited to a costume party and yet, his costume was a leather jacket covering his shirtless torso, fingerless black gloves, dark jeans and his usual boots. That wasn’t even a costume, but when you have the popularity Billy does, nobody gives a shit.

“What, the rat is not coming to be a looser with you?” He asked taking the cigarette out of his mouth, taking a final drag and throwing it in the floor before opening the car’s door.

Max threw him a side glance, not at all agreeing with the way he speaks.

“He is a boy and no. He wants to stay.” Billy turned to his stepsister, looking at her over the car.

“The brat better not blow the cover because I swear to god Max.” He threatened.

Max rolled her eyes as she got in the passenger sit. As if she didn’t know what could happen if Neil finds the boy. “I already told you, nobody’ll know he is there.”

“Hey.” scolded the older boy once inside. “Watch. Your attitude.” He threatened, making a pause to be sure Max understand he is being serious.

She understood. Max looked at the front, avoiding the glare Billy threw at her.

He huffed in annoyance turning on the engine and driving out.

But he couldn’t help the question that lingered in his mind.

What kind of monster is that guy for the kid to rather stay in a strangers house than to go back home?

He slightly tightened his hold in the wheel.

He shouldn’t be thinking about it. It’s not like it’s his problem. Why should he care about a coward?

Unknown to the step-siblings on their way to celebrate halloween, Thirteen was still in Max’s room searching through the box full of comics a few that he could take to the shed.

Even though he can’t read that well he loves to watch the colorful pictures of the stories. Even more when those are telling Magneto’s story.

He feels like he can identify himself with him a little. Their powers are similar, they both can control things with their minds but magneto only controls metals while thirteen controls any kind of material.

But his story is the most intriguing. He sees magneto as someone really brave, confronting the masses for the opportunity to free himself and those who are like him. And he is feared for his capabilities, just like it happened to him in the lab.

The day he finally unleashed his powers was to protect himself from the people who tasered him on his father’s orders. He screamed and sent flying everyone in the room against the walls, breaking the white tiles. They feared him that day.

He just wants to be as brave as Magneto to confront those who wronged him.

He was in his voyage when he heard the always heavy footsteps of Neil. He knew both him and Susan were in the house due to the sounds they make, but Neil was getting to close to comfort, and the door of the room was open.

He grabbed the two comics he already found and jumped trough the open window, squatting down once he landed to reduce the noise to the minimum.

He acted in the right moment because once he was out Neil stoped at the door when he caught something moving in his peripheral vision.

The man furrowed his eye brows as he entered the room. It was a mess by his standards, just like Billy’s. But the place looked empty of any presence.

No one could fit under the bed and the closet had only clothes, the only option left was the open window that let the autumn wind enter.

The boy outside was tiptoeing along the backside of the house without making a single sound, still crouched. He turned around the corner and pressed his back to the wall just before the adult stuck his head out of the window. He waited patiently, keeping his breathing even. He could still hear him breathing heavily by the window, inspecting the surroundings.

Assured that everything was in order the man grunted an went back inside, not before closing the window and locking it from the inside. It’s not like that would stop Thirteen but the man didn’t know.

The boy waited some more time, just to be sure. He heard his footsteps reach the living room and take a seat in the old couch that creaked under his weight accompanied by Susan’s voice.

When the coast was clear he walked calmly back to the shed with the comics in hand ready to wait for Max to come back with the sweets she promised.

Coming back home wasn’t as easy or peaceful as the teenagers thought it would be.

Max waited for Billy for an hour before she realized that he was never going to pick her up, so she ended up walking all the way home.

The situation got worse when she found Neil and her mother waiting for them awake and in the living room.

Neil was fuming, already assuming and getting it right about why she came back home alone.

Max tried to lie about Billy dropping her at the front door and leaving to droop one of his friends and that he would be back soon. But the lie flew out of the window when said teenager appeared stumbling and staggering through the front door two minutes later.

When his father asked him why he was late Billy made the excuse that he had a flat tire.

Those simple words left both teenagers as liars and idiots. And yet, Neil’s anger was solely directed to his excuse of a son.

Max left to her room before everything started, she already knew what was coming. Neil beating the shit out of his son, Billy not having the courage to fight back and her mother watching, to much of a coward to either live the scene or stop her husband.

Max stayed in her room imagining she was in another place, in another world, pretending she didn’t know Billy enough to care about him. But actually, it was the opposite.

They’ve had a few moment between them in which they manage to understand each other silently. Without having to mention they’re main problem. Neil and Susan’s uncomfortable relationships that put they’re lives upside down.

But while she was creating walls to protect herself from her powerlessness, Thirteen had come out of the shed a few minutes ago. When he heard Max walking to and opening the front door to be exact.

He sneaked into her room, unlocking the window with his powers, waiting for her in her closet. But when she took longer than normally and he heard Neil’s voice grow more and more dangerous, he went back outside to see the living room trough the window.

He saw and heard everything that happened. He even witnessed Neil hitting Billy and beating him to the ground.

That man was like papa, it’s what he thought.

Watching Billy get beat made Thirteen’s blood boil so much he didn’t realize his powers where starting to act up.

The shelf beside them fell loudly startling a scream out of Susan and distracting Neil. The sudden pause at least got him to calm down and see his son seating in the floor, beaten and drunk. He thought that was enough, he didn’t want to leave a mark of obvious evidence in him, he didn’t need someone coming to ask questions.

Thirteen went back to Max’s room. He knocked on the window, getting her attention. She turned towards the boy, taking the mask off.

Once he was inside, he instinctively sat down beside her and gave her a hug.

Oh how much Max wanted to cry right there. But she hates crying. She didn’t let any tears come out but she leaned in to the boy’s hug.

The world doesn’t deserve someone like Thirteen, is what came to her mind. So young and so aware of the bad things and yet, he remains with a heart of gold.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours until everything calmed down. They waited when everyone was back in they’re room, and even a few minutes after that.

They sat in the girl’s bed, getting more comfortable.

Max dumped the bag full of candys in her bed between them. She had skittles, 3 musketeers, nerds, fireballs, monchitos, tunos and a lot more she didn’t know existed.

She was obviously trying to change the atmosphere and thankfully it was working.

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” mumbled Max with her mouth stuffed with whoppers, making sure to speak softly. She didn’t want anyone coming to knock on her door when she should be asleep. “Do you remember when magneto choose another name when he was on the run?” she asked the kid. Thirteen nodded, still munching in a bar of the three musketeers. “I was thinking. What if you do the same? Having a number as a name easily raises suspicions. But if you have another name…” she left the idea hanging, already noticing the understanding in the kids expression.

The boy opened his eyes wide, nodding a few times in happiness.

“Wanna choose a name?” She asked after she swallowed the chocolate.

With the most innocent eyes and without hesitation he said. “Magneto.”

Max laughed a bit and shook her head. The kid was to innocent for his own good. “Magneto is not a name for a person. That’s his title as a villain.” She explained.

Thirteen deflated a little bit. He wanted a name from magneto.

He thought for a moment under Max’s attentive eyes. Until he came with an idea. “Magnus.” He said in a dreamy tone of voice.

Max repeated the name in her head and in a whisper, testing how it sounds before nodding. “Magnus. I like that.” She extended her hand, expecting the kid to do the same.

Thirteen looked at her hand for a second, not getting the memo, but he trusts her so he raised his hand, blinking a few times when she grabbed it and shook it.

She smiled at him. “Nice to meet you, Magnus.” She said

Thirteen felt cheeks warming and a smile spreading in his face. He likes how it sounds. “Nice to meet you.” He whispered.

He now has a name, a friend and a place to stay. He has everything he ever wanted, and he’ll do everything in his power to protect it.

Any comment or constructive criticism are appreciated.

#stranger things x male reader #stranger things #x male oc #stranger things x male oc #jim hopper #x male!reader #billy hargrove #max mayfield #eleven hopper #steve harrington #x child reader #child male reader #child oc

44 notes · View notes

lyramundana · 9 months

Note

Hello, dear. Can you please do a scenerio where yandere Chan and yandere Hyunjin falling for the same person?

Sure thing, I'll try my best. Here you go, sweatheart 😘

YANDERE CHAN & YANDERE HYUNJIN FALLING FOR THE SAME PERSON

These men are already intense and fierce in their passion as normal people, even worse as yandere. I pity the person that has managed to get both of their attention, because Hell awaits for them.

Hyunjin is an egocentric man, very aware of the effect he has on people and enjoying every second of it. He has no problem using his good looks for his own benefit, considering that his beauty is another asset of his and so he can use it however he wants to. He gets off the power he feels when he has someone on his grasp, playing with them until he gets bored or finds someone more interesting. This doesn't prevent for secretly dreaming about finding his real love and live the idealized romance experience he visualizes in his head.

Christopher (we call him by his gouverment name here because the author finds it hot) doesn't have this much of an ego, but he's quite confident on his charms too. Like Hyunjin, he gets off the feeling of control over someone and having them squirm at his will. He's very territorial and protective with people he loves. He feels a desesperate need of be in control of everything that involves him and be in charge at any situation. He thrives off being "the leader" and having people look up to him for guidance.

As yandere, they're among the worst of the group. So if they happen to fall in love with the same person, it'll be a bloody experience.

They meet that person, let's refer to them as "Darling", either at work. Maybe Darling is a member of the staff, someone close to them, or maybe they're just a normal person they meet outside work. Regardless of the place, the love stricks them and they can't scape it. Hyunjin falls at first sight, in awe with Darling's beauty, and idealizing that person in his head before having a proper converstation. First thing he does is use his charms on them, convinced that they'll soon drawn them to him like usual, but he's shocked when Darling isn't inmediatly under his spell and treats like a regular person. This only sparks his interest more and gives him the desire to get closer to Darling, wanting to figure them out. It's during this push and pull that he falls in love, getting off the challenge of seducing someone that isn't easily impressed.

Chan needs more time to actually develop these feelings. Opposite to Hyunjin, he doesn't let appareances sway him, but he can apreaciate beauty when he sees it. It's only when he gets to know Darling on a personal level that he starts to fall. He doesn't waste time in making his move on them, but he also notices he's not the only one..

When they discover they're both after the same Darling, there's an inmediate shift on their relationship. There'll only be two outcomes: Their friendship is broken because their yandereism surpasses any friendship and other emotional bonds outside their love interest, or they make a reluctant alliance for their sake of said friendship but filled with tension. They're both extremely possessive and controlling, so they have trouble sharing, but they might find a common ground in wanting to protect that person and prefering to see them with the other rather than someone else. This latter means they'll plan together and tag team to keep you for themselves, which is actually way worse than if they fought against each other, since that'll at least distract them.

Basically, if these two are infatuated with a person, they lose any renmant of independence and freedom. Darling is locked with them, totally forbidden of going out without them. Literally, Darling is never alone. One is always beside them, clingy as they are. They're too possessive to let her stray too far, god forbid someone looks at them for too long. They have the last word on every single aspect of Darling's life. They'll eventually become a compliant doll, only there to follow their wishes and please them. Forget any friendships and relatives, Darling belongs to them now, in body and soul. Hyunjin punishes Darling for interacting with other people without their consent, while Christopher easily intimidates anyone to stay away from Darling or straight up gets rid of them.

No phone, no going out, Darling can't even dress by themselves. They become less of a human being and more like a pet. If they speak, it can only be things they want to hear and never something remotely negative. Hyunjin is prone to be dellusional, in the way that he can dellude himself into believing this is a perfect romance and Darling is truly in love, but Christopher is more realistic and is aware that this is all wrong. He just doesn't care as long as he can keep Darling in his grasp and only for his eyes.

In short, as much as I love these men, I won't wish be in this position for my worst enemy.

#request #bang chan x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #yandere skz

67 notes · View notes

septembersghost · 5 months

Text

my queue was supposed to run out tonight (11/19) - i'm nothing if not someone who clings to dates and anniversaries, and exactly a month ago, i realized i had enough posts stowed in it to last until today. of all the days. kismet. you know when it's time to go. but i ended up adding some posts from my (still copious) drafts, and no matter how i finagled it, it was impossible to make them all fit by the time today ended. so it gets a little bit of extra time. maybe, in honor of this blog's existence, that's fitting.

you all know this, i've said it, typically in gratitude, many times already. this blog was never meant to last. i came back in november 2020 expecting a couple of months, maybe to be here until the new year. i told very few people, anticipating the goodbye, not wanting to cause anyone undue anguish when i had to vanish again. something i didn't expect was the sheer (admittedly devasting) emotion that would tie itself to those two weeks when i started interacting again, nor that it would have any outreach or impact, but somehow it did. then time kept spinning on, extending itself, gossamer threads unfurling each day. my following kept growing, far beyond what i could have anticipated, greater than i'd ever established on any of my previous blogs. moving around is unfortunately a pattern at this point, every time for reasons that felt quietly catastrophic. not being able to pay bills for a while. angel's death and the ensuing difficult circumstances. so here, i kept anxiously imagining why i'd eventually have to leave, how to plan for it. poverty issues. the homelessness we were facing through the entirety of a couple of years until last august (and my dad having to be the saving grace). worsening health issues. i never knew, i couldn't predict it, i just worried about it. often tried to brace for it. maybe i got too comfortable this year, because this was when i started to think it wouldn't happen, that i really could stay. little did i know. and the reasons...are not reasons i ever fathomed, why would i have? how could i have? i wish it weren't so. (i wish a lot of things.)

i thought sometimes about the words i would leave you with, none of which are suitable now. i almost wrote nothing, yet found that feeling wrong, couldn't leave without something about parting.

thus it turns out i'm leaving before it's strictly necessary, before it's the fear of personal catastrophe coming to fruition, not knowing what i'll do or where i'll metaphorically go, as that is the downside of chronic illness and isolation narrowing this to my sole outlet. (lyrics keep running through my mind, there are always lyrics stuck in my head. no matter where i go, there'll be memories that tug at my sleeve, but there will also be more to question, yet more to believe...teach me to be more adaptive...help me say goodbye). my body is in such a fragile state right now (my mind not far behind) that maybe what i need to do is rest. just rest for a while.

this blog was never meant to grow the way it did, to take asks and have conversations like i did, that was a somewhat new (sometimes scary! often fun) experience for me. it's one that will never be replicated. to my loyal and lovely anons, i'm so sorry that i had to cut you off unexpectedly and couldn't reinstate communication - i know that you weren't able to reach out to me as soon as i did that, and that certainly wasn't your fault, it was a response to the tenor of this website. i apologize for the hundreds of messages i never had the chance to answer. i'm appreciative of the things you shared with me and all the times we got to talk.

i sincerely hope some of you learn to be kinder and wiser and less reactionary and more willing to learn and to listen rather than to attack those who have never wronged you and who do not deserve that. i'm being too nice, but i hope you learn that misusing your supposed social justice to do harm and foment hatred and stew in ignorant cruelty makes any principles you purport to have utterly void. my hope for that is low at the moment, but it's still got to be there. waiting to be found.

to those of you who have never been anything but kind, you are true treasures, the lights in the darkness, the loving and compassionate embodiment of human spirit. some of you have (quite literally) helped keep my mom and me alive, and i can never repay that or do enough in this life to quantify it. some of you have been here for me every single day, to listen and laugh and cry and understand. i don't think i would've bothered to fight through these past three years had i not had your presences in my life. i wouldn't have had as much of a reason. there are times when i still haven't felt like i had a reason, i struggle through so many varied griefs, but then i continued to wake up, and would come on here and find something joyful or beautiful or affirming that someone had sent or posted, and it gave me an anchor. there are passions and interests i shared or discovered here that were so uplifting and enlightening, and i will carry them in my heart always. being here to find those was such a blessing. being here with you to indulge in them was such a blessing. thank you. i pray your continued paths have more of that ahead. look at all the things you've done for me. there are certain things that once you have no time can wear away.

you know that line from the wizard of oz?: hearts will never be practical until they are made unbreakable. maybe that isn't true, maybe our hearts being broken is proof of something. there are people who hurt me on such a profound level who i know weren't affected by it at all, but i refuse to define my sensitivity as a negative. my softness (too soft for all of it, indeed) does not quite provide me with a weapon, but it doesn't crumple. hearts can be broken repeatedly and still beat, which i've thought about a lot lately. shattered souls just make a new mosaic. it's a different picture than it was before, but the color and light persists. and in the remains of that, a handful of people have shown me depths of caring and resilience that i wouldn't have gotten to hold onto otherwise, which is an extraordinary thing. the precious rarities have to mean something more, don't they? i would think so. i believe it. or i'm trying. i keep trying with all my might.

maybe i stayed too long at the fair. maybe this is a consequence of overplaying my hand, gambling a little too much with time to where it had to teach me something. maybe i needed the reminder that sometimes we have to fight to retain our spirits, and other times we have to retreat. maybe i needed a reminder that all that extra time was a miracle. i don't take it for granted.

whether we've spoken directly, be that consistently or in scattered flurries, whether we've interacted in very personal ways or simply in liked hearts on the dash, i hope there was goodness and light in it. i hope there's a memory i leave here that's sweet. (as long as i'm borrowing phrases, i hope you'll think of me fondly sometimes.) i hope there was something warm and enriching here. i hope you know what you've been and meant to me. i said so many times that this blog was my cozy haunted house - the ghosts will linger here forever, and i know they'll never mind if you want to step in and visit.

with all my heart, i love so many of you so dearly. i am so lucky to have your friendships. please move gently through life. please hold onto the things that illuminate it for you, and provide that where you can. please do your best to repair even the smallest of tears in the world. you are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.

there must be lights burning brighter somewhere.

something yet remains. i remain. and i do my best to be brave.

#bubble wrap around my heart #jess.mess #namarie #gam zu l'tovah #edit: december 2. this was as it turns out too nice #because today this website decided to desecrate something central and sacred #i wish i could verbalize to you despicable people the profound soul deep hurt you're causing #and the constant fear and trauma you're instilling by making every space so blatantly hateful and hostile and unsafe #but you don't get to take a PRAYER away from its people. you don't get that power ever. that light will NEVER be diminished #i have no respect for any of you doing this. you're evil #i have infinite respect for myself now though. i know who i am. and i'm done #you don't deserve me and you never deserved my friendship or my trust or my heart #proverbs 4:23 #goodbye.

43 notes · View notes

dragonsdomain · 5 months

Text

Blob Ghost Supreme chapter 2

AO3

Chapter 1

Danny's first victory was not met with the unadulterated praise for which he'd hoped. He heard terms ranging from "Cheater!" to things he wouldn't be able to repeat over the dinner table flung towards him like javelins, along with empty snack packages he had to dodge. The screams of the audience carried a whole range of emotions, the kind of sound that might herald a riot. Would it make things better or worse if Danny tried to step in and get them to settle down? No, Walker's minions were already on that.

Danny glared defiantly at the audience, then headed out of the arena. This was the beginning. So they didn't believe a blob ghost could win that fight fair and square? So they were enraged by the very idea of it? He'd show them. He'd make them believe he was the real deal, that he deserved their respect. If winning this whole tournament was what it took to make that happen, so be it. He would do it.

...

Sam and Tucker had to grab hold of each other to make sure neither got swept away by the increasingly riotous crowd after the battle ended. The ghost cops all jumped into action and soon enough were able to calm the crowd into a tamer simmering discontent.

Muttering continued between audience members as they finally started to settle back into their seats.

Tucker grabbed the shoulder of a Day of the Dead skeleton to his right. "Hey excuse me, what was that? What just happened?"

"I don't know!" She exclaimed. "A blob ghost, just taking out so many ghosts like that? It shouldn't be possible! Did it cheat? Did it bribe all those ghosts somehow? What does it want? We can't let a cheater get away with becoming the ghost king! We—"

"Wait!" Tucker waved his hands to grab her attention. "I just mean like, what are the rules of this tournament? How does this work?"

The woman sagged, scowling at Tucker. "If you care so little about this tournament, why are you even here?" she sighed. "It's the Ghost King Tournament. It'll have three rounds of one on one battles between eight contestants, and the final winner will be the new ghost king." She pointed down at the arena, where the ghost cops were now working on freeing the defeated contestants from ice. "That was a preliminary round. There'll be eight, with contestants randomly divided between them, and the last ghost standing at the end of each preliminary round will be one of the eight contestants."

Tucker nodded. "Okay. Thank you. That helps a lot."

The woman stood, dusting herself off. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go discuss this with someone who actually cares how it turns out."

Tucker turned back to Sam as the other ghost turned away, finding her having some debate about ghost races with a dangerous-looking ghost to her left. Tucker pulled her away from him. "Sam, can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Oh. Yeah. Sure." Sam looked like she was about to fire some final word at the large ghost behind her, but Tucker yanked her away into the crowd before she could.

Tucker grabbed her face in his hands. "Sam, that blob ghost Phantom is really powerful."

Sam's eyes narrowed. "We're not leaving."

"What do you mean?" Tucker glared at her. "What are we even doing here then? Putting our lives in danger for curiosity's sake?"

Sam grabbed his shoulders, holding him away from her. "Look, we may not be sure exactly what's important about what's going on, but this tournament is a huge deal. Seeing it could be a once-in-a-lifetime experience."

Tucker started to respond, but Sam interrupted him. "Plus, how much danger can our lives be in if we've somehow been sponsored by the Observant boss or whatever it was that police officer ghost said?"

Tucker frowned. "What was that about, anyway? Why would some important ghost want us here?"

Sam let go of Tucker and started tapping her chin. "I think the ghost mentioned that it was because we're the future ghost king's friends. But we don't have any ghost friends. Do you think it's some kind of mix-up? Did we actually fool them?"

Tucker shrugged. "Yeah. I don't know. It's weird." He straightened. "If we're not the right people, then... what'll happen when they find out the truth?"

Sam cringed. "So we might be in a little danger. Okay. Still, it's not like we'll ever get another chance like this."

Tucker curled in on himself. "I don't know. I don't like it. I feel like we're getting in way over our heads, Sam. We're supposed to be having a hangout with Danny right now! What are we going to tell him when we get back if he's been there waiting for us now?"

Sam pulled out her phone. "Do we have service—? No. Yeah, um. Okay. How about we compromise. If things start going south, if somebody tries to hurt us, we leave. Okay?"

Tucker rolled the idea around in his head. "Okay. Fine. I mean, yeah, I'm curious too." He shuffled awkwardly. "Do we have to watch all the prequalifying fights though?"

Sam smiled in relief. "No, we can probably find some hallway to hang out in 'til the one-on-one fights start. Thanks, man."

Tucker smiled wryly. "I'm the one who gets to call if things are getting too dangerous, 'kay?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Fine."

The two of them walked up towards the top of the audience seating, looking for an exit to somewhere else. The next pre-round was about to start, and it'd be better to get out of the way before things got exciting again.

Tucker worried there wouldn't be anywhere to go since most ghosts got around by flying, but thankfully they were able to find an exit to some hallways that could easily be reached by foot. Was this place based off of a human colosseum? Or was it originally built by humans? It'd be pretty interesting if the places in the ghost zone were the ghosts of places from the real world too.

The hallways weren't completely quiet and still had a fair number of ghosts milling about, but it was significantly more peaceful back here than out in the audience.

Sam and Tucker started strolling aimlessly down the hall.

"You know," Sam said, "If you don't want to be here, I could drop you off back at the Fentons' with the Speeder. You don't have to be here with me."

Tucker snorted. "Yeah, right. I'm not leaving you here in some deep part of the ghost zone all alone."

Sam smirked. "I guess it is kind of nice having you here too."

They found a bench and sat down. "Too bad Danny's not here," Tucker said.

Sam leaned back, stretching her arms above her head. "His fault for being so late," Sam said. "Plus, he hasn't been that interested in ghost stuff anyway. Any time I try to talk about that blob ghost—Phantom—he's always changing the subject."

Tucker frowned, thinking.

Sam glanced at him. "What?"

"Why is it always us who see Phantom? It's not like it’s rare for the little guy to show up, but Danny's never been there when he does."

Sam tilted her head. "Well, huh." She frowned down at the floor. "Is he avoiding Phantom on purpose?"

"But how would he know when Phantom was gonna show up?" Tucker asked.

"I mean, whenever a ghost shows up for it to fight? I have noticed Danny taking bathroom breaks often when that happens." Sam tapped her fingers.

Tucker stared down at his shoes. "Correct me if I'm wrong. But didn't Danny always leave before the ghost would show up?"

"Oh." Sam nodded. "I mean, that makes sense. I was trying to remember why teachers would let him leave if a ghost was there. Makes more sense if he'd left before."

"Weird," Tucker said, folding his arms.

A flash of green zipped by at eye-level.

Tucker and Sam launched up from their seats. "Phantom!" Sam cried, dashing after him, and Tucker followed quickly after.

Phantom was far faster than the two humans were on foot, even when he was having to slow down to take turns in the narrow hallway. Soon enough they'd lost sight of the blob ghost, but kept tracing his path by asking nearby ghosts which way they'd seen him go.

Eventually they wandered their way down to a basement story, where there was some kind of ghost gym (it looked pretty similar to a human gym except that some things were floating). Phantom was visible repeatedly tackling a sandbag with enough force to send it swinging wildly, and the ghosts near him kept giving him nervous glances.

Sam strode up to the blob ghost and said, "Hey, Phantom!"

"AH!" the blob ghost jolted to a halt with an adorably high-pitched shriek.

Yeah, okay, Tucker was no longer scared. He walked up to the ghost and stood next to Sam.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," Sam said with alarming respect towards a tiny creature with such an adorable voice.

Tucker coughed, trying to regain his composure.

Phantom muttered something about how he wasn't startled, and was Tucker imagining things or was his face a darker shade of green? Anyhow, "Well, what is it?" Phantom asked.

Sam drew herself up and cleared her throat with a level of professionalism that made Tucker wonder what was about to come out of her mouth. "As the ambassadors from the humans to this auspicious occasion, we'd like to ask you a few questions about you and this event."

Phantom scoffed. "You two are ambassadors? From what government? No one sends ambassadors to the ghost zone!"

Tucker glared at Sam with the intensity it'd take to telepathically call her an idiot for thinking that would work again.

"Uh," Sam continued. "Well, from America. We're the kids of the president!"

How far are you going to push this? Tucker telepathically glared.

Sam glanced at him and finally noticed his glaring and gave him a telepathic I dunno, man.

Phantom dipped down low in a mock bow. "Oh, my apologies, Princess Samantha." He froze.

"How'd you know her name?" Tucker asked.

"I- uh- I heard it? From someone? Didn't you mention it?"

"No?" Tucker said in bafflement.

"Uh, well, I think my fight is about to start!" Phantom gave a laugh that sounded very fake and anxious. "BYE." The blob rocketed out of the room.

There was an awkward silence in the gym as the other ghosts stared after Phantom. "I don't think they're even done with the pre-rounds yet," one of them muttered.

After a minute, the ghosts started going back to their exercising. Sam and Tucker looked at each other. "Is it just me," Sam began, "or did Phantom know a lot about the human world?"

Tucker frowned at the floor. "Maybe he died recently? And how did he know your name? Do we know him?"

Sam inhaled. "Something felt familiar about the way he talked. I can't put my finger on it."

Tucker shrugged. "He hurried away pretty quickly. Seems like even if we did know him, he doesn't want to talk to us."

Sam folded her arms. "Or he doesn't want us to find out."

...

If Danny was lucky, Sam and Tucker would write off that interaction as just weird and awkward and forget all about it. And then they wouldn't bother him anymore, and they'd never have to find out that he had secretly passed halfway into the afterlife in the most embarrassing way possible.

Danny was not lucky very often.

Still, he was trying to put it out of his mind. He had to be focused when it came time for his first battle. It would stink if he lost in the first round.

"Welcome to the first round of the Ghost King Tournament! Behold our first two contestants: Phantom the Blob and Skulker the Hunter!"

Both contestants entered the ring, and Danny saw who he was fighting. Was that a mech? His opponent looked like a robot. Maybe he was operating it through possession.

Skulker gave a condescending smirk. "I usually don't waste my time with common prey, but I'll make an exception this once." He lifted his arms, which unfolded into a gun. "Make this interesting for me, whelp."

Danny dodged away from the blast, hissing. "Since when are we allowed to use outside tools in this fight?!"

Skulker glared. "This mech is as much a part of me as any other ghost's power." He raised his arm cannon for another shot.

Danny dodged easily again, but the shots looked powerful enough that he didn't fancy getting hit by one. He should make this quick.

Danny tapped into his second core, pulling forth the power of space. He opened his mouth, letting loose a miniature black hole.

Crowd members shouted as they started being pulled towards the battle. Danny's eyes widened. Oops. He hadn't thought about that. With some focus, Danny managed to create a shield around the arena, stopping the force being exerted on the crowd and eliciting some relieved breaths.

Skulker, though, was still struggling against Danny's hole's gravity. Danny floated lazily beside it, waiting for it to do its work. Starting to look panicked, Skulker fired another blast at Danny but it curved into the black hole harmlessly. Skulker gave a cry of dismay as his arm gun broke loose and was consumed by the black hole. Danny smiled smugly.

"What are you?!" Skulker huffed as he pressed himself up against the wall.

Danny sneered. "I'm a ghost, just like you!"

Skulker looked terrified. "Blob ghosts can't do things like this."

"I can," Danny answered darkly.

The black hole grew in size, and Skulker's armor started ripping away piece by piece. He shrieked, trying to hold onto his breastplate, but it flew out of his grip. Skulker finally gave a last ditch effort to lunge at Danny with a set of blades, but Danny dodged easily and started firing his own ecto-shots to slice off whatever weapons he could see.

After another second, Skulker's entire silhouette seemed to break apart and fly towards the black hole. Danny yelled, zipped over and consumed the black hole before it could destroy the ghost.

He hovered there panting.

That. Had been too close.

Skulker's robotic limbs lay scattered across the arena. Danny was suddenly aware of how quiet the audience was.

He floated forward in dread. Nothing was moving.

"...Skulker?" Danny pleaded, drawing close to the disembodied head.

It broke open, and Danny screamed.

"Hey! Shut up! You won, okay?"

Danny froze.

Inside the opened robotic helmet was... another blob ghost. Kind of skinnier than Danny, with shrimpy little limbs. He sat up and glared. "I hope you're happy."

The audience burst into murmurings. Danny heard snippets again of what they were saying, accusations of cheating again, of collaboration, miscellaneous trash talk about blob ghosts.

Danny floated away from the blob ghost that was apparently the real Skulker. He hadn't killed him. That was good. Still, he'd probably need to be more careful with his powers in the next battles.

...

"Another blob ghost! Of course. Finally, something that makes sense. Of course a blob ghost could beat a blob ghost."

The ghost beside Tucker started laughing rather hysterically as pandemonium continued in the audience around them.

Tucker turned to Sam. "Did you see that?"

"You're gonna have to be a little more specific, Tuck," Sam responded.

"At the end there, after Phantom got rid of the black hole," Tucker said. "It looked like he was breathing. Panting."

Sam gasped. "You're right. And the black hole? Space powers?"

"Who's one of the people we know who's most likely to accidentally call you by your name? Your nickname?" Tucker said, feeling thoughts piece together in his mind.

He and Sam stood up as one and bolted out into the hall.

"What does it mean? It doesn't make sense!" Tucker called after Sam.

"I don't know! But we're going to get answers." Sam shot back over her shoulder as they ran.

The two of them pounded down a staircase, dashing down the hall and past a couple security guards. They yelled after them but were ignored by Sam and consequently by Tucker.

They reached their destination: the door where Phantom would come out after the battle. There he was, just about to head off down the hall.

"Phantom!" Sam called at the same time as Tucker yelled "Danny!" All three of them froze.

Tucker gulped. "I, uh. Wasn't planning to call you that."

Phantom swooped closer and bit Sam and Tucker's backpacks to drag them hurriedly into an empty side room.

He pushed them in and wrenched the door closed.

"You can't be yelling weird stuff in the halls at me," Phantom snapped in a voice that Tucker was now distinctly aware sounded almost exactly like Danny on helium. "I don't know who this Danny is, I don't know anything about him. What do you two want?"

Sam started spouting out their handfuls of evidence at the blob ghost's annoyed face, but Tucker started to tune her out as his mind whirled. This ghost was acting exactly how Danny would if he was annoyed, or even more like if he was pretending to be annoyed but was really trying to hide something.

"...Did you come from him?" Tucker said softly, almost not even aloud. "Were you born when Danny had that accident with the ghost portal?"

Phantom froze, looking at Tucker in alarm.

"Or... no, you were breathing back there, like a living human. Wait, and why-- you--" The pieces snapped into place. "You are Danny."

Phantom started to pull back, eyes wide and scared.

"Tuck?" Sam spoke softly.

"That's why you didn't show up this morning," Tucker breathed, piercing the ghost with his gaze. "Because you had the tournament to go to. It's why you've kept leaving class before ghosts show up and why you're late for things and busy so often these days. Because you're Danny. You're Phantom."

It all made sense in Tucker's head, but spoken the ideas sounded almost ridiculous. Almost, because Phantom looked far too alarmed. Like Tucker was right.

Sam gave a weak laugh, glancing searchingly between Phantom—Danny and Tucker. "What?" she asked.

Danny shrank down towards the corner. "I... I didn't... not like this..."

"What?" Sam asked desperately. "He's right? You-- Danny?"

Danny curled down further.

That was all the answer Sam needed. "What happened to you?"

Danny couldn't look at them. "The ghost portal half killed me. So I'm part my human me, and part... this."

Why didn't you tell us? Tucker wanted to ask, but he knew the answer. "And you were too embarrassed to tell anyone."

Danny nodded. "Nobody respects my ghost form. I wanted to use this tournament to prove to everyone that I'm not just some tiny cute ghost."

"Can we go back to the part where you're dead," Sam said dazedly.

Tucker ignored her. "So were you gonna tell us about this after winning?"

Danny tilted thoughtfully. "I dunno. Maybe."

Sam blinked. "I mean. Do you really need to do all this? I mean everybody already knows that you're crazy powerful, even if you're also kind of ado—" Tucker smacked her.

"For the record, this doesn't change how we see you, man. You don't have to win some crazy tournament for us to know you're cool." Tucker put out a fist for a fist bump before awkwardly remembering that Danny currently was a blob and had no fists.

However, Danny hovered up off the floor and gave a little smile before headbutting Tucker's fist. Tucker couldn't stop a little laugh from escaping. He was so squishy!

And adorable.

But he would die before saying that out loud again.

Chapter 3

#my fanfics #Blob Ghost Supreme #Danny Phantom #Blob Ghost Danny au #crack #tw violence #ectoimplosion2023 #no one knows au #Sam manson #Tucker Foley

26 notes · View notes