#and coffins being called cocoons

[mebis-art-dump]

There's a critical lack of maggot Godseeker in the fandom

(unmasked Godseeker speculation woooo)

For reference:

#hollow knight #krita #digital art #fanart #mebi's art #sketch #rkgk #hollow knight theory #hollow knight speculation #hollow knight headcanon #hollow knight lore #godseeker's physical body looks like a beetle and a lot like the old gods of thunder and rain #there's also the prototype godtuner being straight up a corpse tied with strings #there's some clever reference to resonance and bug senses and filaments on legs in here #but i dont know the right terminology to point it out #metamorphosis has some sort of greater value/mysticism to it in hollow knights world #with godseeker calling her current form a glorious transformation that could almost be confused with godhood by unknowing eyes #and it being a big deal in wyrms and grubberflies #and marmu needing the assistance of the queen for it #and coffins being called cocoons #including godseeker's

[sebuckyverse]

for a good time, call [3]

modern!rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

series summary: Eddie Munson is a burnt out rockstar, touring the country. When he finds a phone number written on a bathroom wall, he strikes an unusual friendship with a coffee shop barista who has no idea who he is.

warnings: 18+ cussing, f!masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, smoking, flirting, mutual pining, angst, strangers to friends to lovers word count: 3,5k

an: omg guys, here it is! i hope you enjoy. as always, if you like it let me know by reblogging or leaving a comment - it means so much to me!

chapter two ♫ masterlist ♫ askbox

chapter three ♫♪♩·..·

After a beat of silence, the phone went dead. Disappointment creeped into your soul, but you tried to fight it off. Maybe it was an accident, perhaps the connection just cut out. But as the minutes ticked by, you sat on your bed, clutching your phone that silent. Your bedroom door was open and you could see the moon illuminating your worn out sofa in the living room. It was dead silent, just like your phone.

Was this all a scam? Were you being catfished by some lonely elder, or worse, a disgusting perv? Were you that stupid and naïve?

With shaky hands, you placed your phone back on your nightstand, plugging the charger in. You settled back under the covers with your back facing your bedroom window, clutching the blanket under your chin. In the warm cocoon of your sheets, you fell into a restless sleep.

.•♫•♬•

Eddie wasn't better off. He didn't sleep at all that night. He was racking his brain trying to come up with an excuse that could justify his actions. Landing on zero ideas, he gave up at about 4.30am. He kept opening and closing his iMessage app, sometimes just watching the empty text box and other times actually typing something, then deleting it and tossing his phone on the floor.

He was a piece of shit, honestly. He was wired up to call you, he hit the right button, he heard your voice and then he panicked, once again. In those two seconds, your voice was enough to take his breath away. Your voice was quiet but hopeful and he wrecked everything.

Eddie opened the doors to his suite balcony, sitting down on a wicker basket chair and propping his feet on the metal railing. The chilly air was dancing around his hair and bare shoulders, he was only wearing a simple pair of dark sweats, from which fished out his (regular) cigarettes and lit one. He kept looking at the skyline and the city below it, he could see the roof of the arena he would be playing at later that night.

He pondered what type of music you liked, if you would like his stuff. Would you go to a show, cheer him on from the front row? Or would you be the type to wait in the dressing room unbothered, like his ex. What would you say if he asked you to come to one of his shows? They are scheduled to play two shows in New York in two weeks...

Eddie finished his cigarette stepped back into the room, opening the closet where he caught a glimpse of his rosy cheeks on the mirrored doors and putting on a Corroded Coffin hoodie. He stepped to the desk adjacent to the closet and pulled open a small drawer filled with hotel amenities. He found what he was looking for, a blank sheet of paper and a pencil, returning to the balcony where the sunrise was creeping up on the city. He used to do this back in high school, when he was still playing Dungeons & Dragons, drawing different maps and monsters for each session. It almost felt liberating, skimming the ashy tip of the pencil along the paper. He hadn't done anything creative in months, he'd only kept the same routine every day. Maybe it was time to change that. Maybe it was time to stop moping around and improve some things.

.•♫•♬•

''There you go, sir. Have a nice day!'' Robin piped out next to you, handing a middle aged guy in a very expensive looking suit his go-to espresso, to which he didn't even respond to as he kept typing away on his phone. When he was out the door, Robin rolled her eyes and muttered ''Asshole.''

You snorted, grateful for he company and for the fact that the café was pretty busy today, you could use the distraction. You woke up this morning to two text messages, one from your co-worker asking for you to fill in for her today as she had to take her dog to the vet and another was from him. You didn't open his text yet and you couldn't see it from the preview either, because he had sent a photo right after the text, so the screen just said ''Sent a photo.''

You were itching to know what could he have possibly sent, but you purposefully kept your phone at your locker today. Still feeling iffy about the situation, you hadn't mentioned the call thing to Robin, but you did fill her casually in on your texting to which in return you got a confirmation that her and Cherry were indeed now girlfriends.

''Ugh, she asked me after the show - which was amazing, by the way - and I had to say yes. You just can't say no to her,'' she kept babbling while putting a new tray full of frozen croissants to the oven.

You were re-filling the espresso machine with new beans. ''What show was it anyway?''

Robin closed the oven door with her hip while pulling the oven mitts off. ''I don't really remember, coffin something. Cherry loves them, that's why we went. It was real heavy, the singer was pretty cool though, straight from the 80s.''

''What do you mean?'' you asked.

''He had long hair, so he looked like Bon Jovi or something. I mean it was cool, but you don't see that look every day.'' she replied, straightening her apron and greeting another customer who'd just stepped in.

You hummed in response and proceeded to the cash register to take new orders. The day flew by and by the time you only had 20 minutes left, Robin was at the back, emptying the dishwasher and you were counting cash when the door opened again. You vaguely remembered her hair color and her wine red lipgloss, so it wasn't too hard to recognize Cherry when she strolled in.

''Hey, I'm Cherry.''

You accepted her outstretched palm and shook her hand. ''Y/N. Nice to finally meet you, for real this time.''

''Same here,'' she smiled ''Though I feel like I know you already. Robin talks about you a lot and I already know you can't handle more than two drinks.''

''And three tequila shots!'' you returned her smile and Robin came busting out the back, rushing past the counter and throwing her arms around Cherry, pecking her cheek.

''Glad the introductions are over,'' she quipped and turned to Cherry ''missed you, by the way.''

''Gross.'' you joked, which ended up with Robin's apron in your face.

''Ha-ha. Would you mind if-''

Before she could finish her sentence, you dismissed her with a hand swipe. ''Yeah yeah, I can finish up here.''

''You're an angel. You know I'd do the same for you if you weren't single and lonely!'' Robin snickered and you fake gasped, but they were out the door before you could say anything back, waving at you from the outside.

''Idiot.''

You grabbed your things from your locker and closed the café, stepping out onto a golden sunset. You walked along the streets leading to your apartment building, passing a bus stop with a big poster on it, the deep rich colors popping and a guy in the middle of it, clutching a guitar. You recalled your conversation with Robin from earlier. Coffin something, a singer with long hair. The name on the poster said Corroded Coffin and the guy on the poster did seem like he could be from the 80s.

Not thinking much of it, you finally decide to take a look at your phone. Besides the two texts, your breath hitched when you noticed there was a missed call as well, 4 hours ago. You checked out the messages first and opened the photo he had sent. It was a picture of a sketch, what could immediately be recognized as the New York skyline. It was nice too, the lines were sharp, it was pretty detailed too.

7.21am - Kirk ''I'm an asshole and I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to offend you, I panicked at the last second. It's a shitty excuse but it's the truth. I'm really sorry, I'd love to talk to you if I could have another chance. I couldn't sleep all night, so I drew this for you as an apology. It's not great, but I hope you accept.''

8.01pm - Kiwi 'It's a great sketch, btw.''

It didn't even take him a second to hit you back.

8.01pm - Kirk ' 'God, I thought you'd blocked me.''

8.02pm - Kiwi ''I'm still thinking about it. I'm convinced you're a catfish.''

8.02pm - Kirk ''I promise I'm not.''

8.02pm - Kiwi ''Okay, prove it.''

8.03pm - Kirk ''How would I do that?''

8.05pm - Kiwi ''I'm sure you can figure it out.''

.•♫•♬•

What the hell was he going to do? He was convinced you had blocked him last night. He sent you the text this morning and for more than 12 hours it was only showing as 'sent.' Not received, not read, nothing. Now reading you thought he was catfishing you, Eddie needed to prove to you that he was real and that he was serious this time.

Without thinking much of it, he dialed your number again and waited as it rang. He threw a quick glance over his shoulder and made his way to the dressing room bathroom, locking himself in to give him some sort of privacy.

The phone kept ringing and ringing. Were you punishing him for not picking up? He wouldn't hold it against you, he kind of deserves it. Besides, Eddie loves a woman who can beat him up.

Finally, after he had already given up hope, the line clicked and he heard your voice again. ''Yes?''

Eddie could also hear cars driving in the background, your breathing was a bit quicker than normal, a little shallow. You were outside somewhere.

''Is this proof enough?'' he asked, barely breathing.

''You could still be some weirdo, but I'll let you off the hook for now. Hi.'' Eddie thought he could hear a smile in your voice.

''Hi,'' he sighed, shoulder relaxing where he was leaning against the door. ''How are you?''

''I'm fine,'' you replied. ''I just got off work, I'm walking home.''

''I thought you had the day off.''

''I did,'' you sighed, some shuffling coming from your side. ''A co-worker asked me to switch, so I did.''

''That's generous of you, are you always this nice?'' Eddie teased.

''You tell me,'' you quipped back, matching his energy right away. He liked that, a lot. He liked you.

''I'd say so. You gave me another shot, though you didn't have to.''

''Don't waste it. I normally don't give second chances.''

Eddie chuckled, ''I won't. Can I ask you something?''

''Shoot,'' you agreed.

''Do you, like.. recognize my voice?'' he cringed. ''It's a silly thing to ask, 'm sorry.''

You laughed and the sound danced around his brain, shooting a bunch of endorphins into his belly. He hoped it wasn't weird to picture you based on your voice alone, but you sounded pretty.

''No...'' trailing off, but quickly you recouped ''So you're a musician then?''

''Uhh... maybe.''

''That's cool! Don't worry, unless you're in an 80s indie band or a 90s boyband, I probably don't know you, sorry!''

''Is that the only stuff you listen to?'' Eddie asked incredulously.

''Hey, I like what I like!'' you defended and he could hear the slight creak of a door and soft steps that became a bit louder, like you were climbing some stairs. The call crackled for a second and then he could hear keys jingling and the unlocking of another door.

''You made it home?'' he quizzed, destined to make sure you were alright.

''Yeah, finally. Now I have a three day weekend!''

''Cool! What are you pl-''

Before Eddie could finish his question, he was startled by the banging behind him, the door he was leaning against shaking under his back. He quickly covered the microphone, holding the device against his chest. ''Eddie, you in there man? We gotta start getting ready.''

It was their drummer asking. Eddie shushed him and told him he was on the phone. The drummer replied with a dishonest 'sorry' and left him be.

''Um, sorry about that. Shit.'' Eddie apologized and wondered if you heard anything.

''Don't worry about it, Eddie.'' you shot back and he could almost see the grin on your face. Why did it seem like you had the upper hand every time?

''Hmm, you got me. Now you tell me your name,'' he challenged.

''I thought you already named me,'' you shot back, your voice suddenly so sweet and innocent.

''Oh, come on. That's not fair.''

''I don't think you've earned it yet.'' Something about that sentence made him twitch in his pants. Fuck. He wanted to earn your name, something else too. Your voice was sultry, the tone of it sticking to his brain like honey. He needed more of it, he needed to keep you talking. He was in a trance almost.

''Making me work for it?'' he prompted, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, resting it on the door.

''You bet. I come with a price, you know.'' You joked.

''I'm willing to pay.'' Eddie replied, dead serious.

.•♫•♬•

Your phone call with Eddie, as you now know him, ended pretty abruptly after that. He got interrupted again and he had to go, to start getting ready for the show you supposed. For exactly two seconds after you hung up, you thought about googling him, but decided against it just as fast as that. You wanted to get to know him personally, not through tabloids.

Your body was thrumming however, your cheeks felt hot to the touch and there was the tiniest vibration between your thighs. You needed a cold shower, asap. You didn't expect the talk to excite you that much, but his voice was something else. Smooth, raspy at times when he lowered his tone. A bit more nasally when he got excited. You wanted to hear it again, teasing you. You wondered what he sounded in person, what his laugh was like, what sounded like when he was out of breath, gasping in your ear.

Stop, you scolded yourself and hurried in removing your work clothes and dumping them in the laundry basket. You took a cool shower to calm down, changed into silky pajamas, then popped a frozen pizza into the pre-heated oven and set the timer to 15 minutes. While you waited for dinner to be ready, you occupied yourself with finding a good movie to watch while you ate, poured a glass of water and changed Eddie's contact name on your phone. Watching a movie should keep you distracted for a few hours, until Eddie was free to call again, which would presumably be in the early hours of the night.

When the movie finally finished, you were full and hydrated. It was only a quarter past eleven so you still had a couple more hours to kill. You decided to move to be this time, grabbing an unfinished book from your desk and settled in under the covers. You turned on the reading lamp on the bedside table and kept your phone close to you. Soon enough, you were submerged in the book, the scene written on the page getting spicier. You gulped as you read how the main characters were ripping each others clothes off, devouring one another. You had a perfect picture in your head, the words coming alive in front of you, envisioning the guy eating out his girl the way the author had put it in the book. Shit, your thighs clenched at the thought of someone doing that to you.

You jumped when your phone vibrated against your bare thigh, slapping the book shut abruptly.

''Hello?'' you answered, trying to calm your breathing.

''Hey, what's up?'' Eddie asked, sounding a little out of breath himself.

''Oh, um, I was just reading a book.''

''What's it about?''

You cleared your throat, ''J-just some rom com, don't think you'd be interested.''

''You alright over there?'' Eddie quipped, chuckling softly.

''I'm fine, totally fine.''

''Uh-uh,'' Eddie sounded totally unconvinced ''tell me what you were reading.''

''Why?'' you were growing nervous.

''You're basically hyperventilating, that must be some book. Was it scary?''

''No.''

''Erotic?'' he joked, chuckling.

You remained quiet, the words dying on your tongue.

''Oh, it was.'' Eddie mused, his voice lower now. ''What were they doing?''

''They were just kissing and stuff,'' you whispered like you were scared someone would overhear, chewing on your bottom lip as a nervous habit.

''Did some simple kissing get you that worked up, baby?''

Baby. He was doing nothing but enhancing the tingling in your white cotton panties.

''No,'' you breathe, rubbing your thighs together at this point.

''Hmm.. Were they doing more? Having sex?'' he spoke and you could hear faint shuffling on his side, then the soft close of a door.

''Not exactly.''

''No? What then? Don't be shy.''

You squeezed your eyes shut, somehow embarrassed like the whole world could see you right now. You took a shaky breath in and quickly blurted out ''He was eating her out.''

There was a small pause before Eddie hummed. ''And how did that make you feel?''

''Good,'' you replied.

''Just good?''

You whimpered. He was toying with you, pulling your strings but you didn't want him to stop either. You switched the phone to your left hand, to free your dominant hand to caress your stomach, occasionally dipping lower. ''Aroused.''

''What are you doing right now?'' Eddies breathing sounded heavier now, too. His voice has a raspier edge than before.

''Rubbing my thighs,'' you sighed. The feeling of your palm sliding over the inside of your thighs felt nice, for a while. There was a warm wet patch on your panties, too.

''Shit. Lay down for me.''

You did as he told, scooting lower on the bed until you were horizontal. ''Okay.''

''Good girl,'' he praised.

Jesus Christ. No one had ever talked to you like that, you'd only read that in your books. Those words sent a jolt straight to your pussy.

''Want you to touch yourself, can you do that for me?''

''Y-yeah,'' you hiccupped, guiding your hand under your pajama pants and skipping your panties too, cupping your mound and feeling the gathered wetness there.

''Doing so good for me, honey. Touch your little pussy for me, tell me how wet you are.''

You couldn't hold back the moan that bubbled up as you followed his instructions, sliding your fingers easily through your blazing folds due to the slickness. ''S-so wet, Eddie.''

''Fuck,'' he groaned. ''Wish I could be there, need to see it for myself. Would you want that?''

''Yes, Eddie!'' you wailed, gliding your wet fingers down your slit, then back up again and focusing on your puffy clit, pulsing with want. You circled your clit with your middle fingers, putting the phone on speaker and dumping it next to your head so you could use your other hand to slide it under your shirt to thumb your nipple, adding even more pleasure.

''Would you let me eat your pussy, too? Let me tongue fuck your little hole?'' Your cunt clenched just at the thought of having his warm muscle shoved deep into it. It was begging to be filled, hungry for it. You found your weeping hole and pushed your middle finger in, moaning at the stretch. Eddie meanwhile continued his verbal assault. ''Fuck, baby I'd lick you so good if you'd let me have the honor. I bet you're already knuckles deep in your pussy, aren't you?''

You could only cry out ''uh uh'' as you added another finger, pushing them as far as you could reach, curling them upward to graze that one and only spot.

''Good fucking girl. Keep punishing that tight hole for me. I know it's so tight, would barely fit my fat cock. Shit. I wanna fill you up, fuck you 'til your crying, begging for me to stop. But I wouldn't stop until you were stuffed full of my cum - you want that baby? Wanna be so filled with my cum that it's flowing out of your abused hole, huh? Leaking down your crack, I'd clean you right up.''

''Eddie, oh my God!'' you cried, tears stinging your eyes as you thrashed around, your clothes sticking to your sweaty body. Fucking your fingers in and out, you pressed your palm down to add more pressure to your clit, building up your high.

''You close, sweetheart? Wanna hear you cum, you sound so fucking perfect already. Keep working those fingers, don't stop.''

''Fuckuckfuck, I'm cumming. Ohmygod.'' Your high hit and you lost all vision, only listening to Eddie talk you through it, telling you what a good girl you were, how proud he was, how good you sounded.

When you came down, you carefully withdrew your fingers and wiped them clean on your pants, trying to catch your breath.

''My name's Y/N, by the way.''

On the other side, Eddie burst out laughing.

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #modern!eddie #modern!eddie munson #for a good time call

[ecoamerica]

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[jacenbren]

Apologies for yet another nonsensical insomnia rant but the fact that Legato Bluesummers a) has never truly been a free man and b) cannot fathom ever living outside of servitude. really hurts man. Like ohhhhhh boy.

In the ‘98 anime (due to trimax being incomplete at the time), we never really got to see the real dark and nasty bits of Legato’s story, and trigun stampede hasn’t yet gotten a chance to really delve into his character. While Legato still served the same purpose as he did in the manga with similar events playing out, I think a lot of his character’s depth was missing in tri98—we never really learn why it is that Legato is so deeply devoted to Knives, and he’s portrayed as a lot more… theatrical?? than he is in the manga?? anyway. Tri98 Legato serves his narrative purpose and is a great villain, but he seems a bit shallow, for lack of a better word, mostly because we don’t actually get to learn a lot about him.

In comparison to his counterparts, trimax Legato is… kinda a loser. The second we meet Knives, Legato gets crumpled like a soda can and spends the majority of the series as a quadriplegic who sits menacingly in the shadows in his body brace/coffin thing (which I affectionately like to call his Bitch Cocoon). He spends his time being very weird and unlikeable and tormenting Vash in various ways, all while dramatically singing Knives’s praises, despite him being the guy who quite literally rearranged all of Legato’s limbs and permanently crippled him. All in all, despite being an absolute menace in combat and just a generally fucking unsettling guy, Legato’s kind of pathetic and really easy to dunk on at first. Just ask Elendira, who roasts the shit out of him on a daily basis because she’s bored and even “accidentally” chucks a glass of water at him! He’s an easy target!

However, I think this makes the absolute gut punch that is finding out why Legato is the way he is infinitely worse, which I absolutely adore from a narrative and storytelling standpoint.

Legato has been a slave since he was a child, in every way but name—well, he was literally a slave as a child, and more specifically, a sex slave. He grew up knowing nothing other than the absolute worst of humanity, instilling a hatred towards his own kind that would last his entire life. It’s made abundantly clear that Legato doesn’t value himself in the slightest, because he grew up as little more than a commodity, to use and dispose. When Knives razes the city Legato’s being held captive in, and goes to kill him, this is the first act of kindness he has ever received, and yet also the greatest unkindness—Knives has destroyed Legato’s life, no matter how abhorrently shitty it was. Legato has never lived a life outside slavery, so he has no idea what to do with himself.

So he turns to Knives. Millions Knives, whose goal is to eradicate the humans who have done nothing but make Legato suffer. Knives, who seems all too willing to put him out of his misery should he turn down Legato’s offer to serve him.

Legato cannot fathom a life without a master, without pain and suffering and servitude. He cannot comprehend the idea of freedom, and most of all, he can’t understand Vash. He can’t understand that someone whose kind has been used and abused by humans for centuries, who’s suffered for decades alone in the desert, could find it in himself to forgive and love the ones who hurt him so unconditionally. Vash’s very existence infuriates Legato, because Vash is a mirror image of him—a mirror image whose trauma didn’t swallow him whole and turn him into something despicable. Sure, Knives might’ve saved him, but he’s just another master to serve. Knives broke every bone in his body as punishment for disobedience, and yet somehow, Knives still favors his brother—who keeps running, who keeps refusing, who keeps avoiding his past—over Legato, who’s sworn to never disobey his orders again.

Vash is what Legato could’ve been. Vash is what Legato desperately wants to be. The problem is, Legato refuses to heal, and he doesn’t want to be fixed, either.

#i think about him a lot #legato bluesummers #the load-bearing twink of trigun #trigun #trigun maximum #trigun meta #trigun maximum spoilers #cw mentions of child abuse/csa #basically cw for legato’s entire backstory

[silkholland]

Summary: Running into your former best friend on your 25th birthday wasn’t in your celebration plans. What makes It even worse is that he doesn’t even seem to remember you or the reason you completely disappeared from his life. What is in your plans though, is to make him fall in love with you only to break him the way he broke you. There’s no way you could end up hurt again…right?

Pairings: Tom Holland x plus size! reader

Warnings: cursing, mentions and descriptions of a panic attack, mentions of past sh (nothing descriptive), mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy, angst with a fluffy ending

Word Count: 2.5K

A/N: here it is, everyone. The last chapter of Run Far, Run Fast. It's been a wild ride and I can't thank you guys enough for being apart of it. I have way more ideas in mind for future stories, so please like, reblog and follow. Love you guys. I hope this chapter makes you guys happy.

Chapter 13: Back To You

“Kiara is gonna murder you, you know?” Your voice was raw and meek, your body adjusting to a seated position in your bed.

“I know. I’ll deal with my death sentence later. Right now we need to talk. No more ignoring me. No more bullshit. Just talk.” Tom gently closed your bedroom door behind him once you nodded your head in agreement.

“Okay…”

The air filled with silence, only your heartbeats and tension consuming the room.

“What did-“ “Is it true?”

You both spoke at the same time. Brows furrowed, you gazed up at him. “Is what true?”

“Are you…ya know…” He attempted to gesture with his hands. Tom was having a hard time saying it out loud, as if it would it be any less real if he kept the words locked in a little box inside of himself. Sweaty palms ran over his thighs before he was able to finally speak again. His fearful eyes lifted to your quizzical ones. “Are you really pregnant?”

You sputtered, nearly choking on your own saliva. Not a single thing could have prepared you for that question.

“Am I what?!" Your eyes widened, a mixture of horror and panic bubbling up in your chest. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You have no right to come in her—“

“I’m your boyfriend,” he yelled, his volume surprising the both of you.

“Was…was my boyfriend.” Your voice was small and fragile, your eyes refusing to make contact with his watery ones. That’s what you wanted though, right? None of this was actually real anyway. What was one more nail in the coffin?

“Since when?”

“Tom, what’s the point of all this? This is stupid,” you resigned, finally standing up from your cocoon of safety, your blanket falling to the bed.

“No! No, what’s stupid is you suddenly disappearing from my life after I tell you I love you. If you don’t feel the same, fine, but at least have the balls to tell me.” He waved his finger pointedly at you. You nearly growled as you slapped it out your face.

“Oh, fuck off with your pity party, Thomas! That’s not why I haven’t returned your calls!”

“Then why have you been ignoring me?!”

“Because you hurt me!” It spilled from your lips like water from a broken faucet, your eyes widening at your own outburst.

Tom’s eyes matched yours before his they fell to the floor, his forehead scrunching up as you watched him process your words. You could see the gears turning, his face almost comically readable. His lips parted, a soft whisper of a question blowing through, “When?”

“What?” You scoffed.

“When did I hurt you?” His voice was shakier now, thoughts running through his mind of how he could have hurt you. Was he too rough with you? Did he push you into things you hadn’t wanted?

“It doesn’t matter, Tom. You don’t remember,” Your hand frustratedly ran over your face as you sighed.

“What don’t I remember? Mouse, you gotta—“ he began stepping towards you until you spoke again.

“That! What is that!”

“What is what?” His brows furrowed, increasingly becoming more confused and slightly annoyed.

“Mouse. Why do you call me that?” You pointed accusingly at him, your eyes narrowing as you paused for his response.

“I…” he sputtered.

“Why do you call me Mouse, Tom?”

In all honesty, he hadn’t even realized he had started calling you that again. It just slipped from his lips like the ‘I love you’ he uttered. He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking.

“Because you’re as quiet as a mouse so—“

“No I’m not,” you cut him off, the air in the room suddenly becoming too thick for you. “I used to be though. When I first got that nickname….when you first gave me that nickname, Tom…”

It was as if the truth dawned on the both of you at the same time. Wheels began to turn, conversations and little moments floating through your memories at warp speed. You remembered him and he remembered you. He couldn’t fathom why you’d even give him a second glance if you remembered him and you felt the same for an entirely different reason.

“Y/N..” He began.

“Don’t.” You took a step back for every step he took forward, tears welling up in your eyes.

“You remembered me…this entire time….you remembered what you did to me—said to me….and you never said anything? What, was I just some conquest? Let’s see how many times I can sleep with the fat girl before she realizes she’s just a fucking joke?!” Your thoughts ran wild, spiraling through a tunnel of what ifs and what nows.

“It wasn’t like that and you know it!” He defended. The fact that you could even think he’d do something so cruel made him physically sick.

“How would I have known that, Tom? You hated me! You didn’t even want to be seen with me and suddenly I’m supposed to believe you love me?!” Your widened eyes instantly narrowed into crinkled slits at his suggestion.

“I have always loved you! I was a dumb kid who didn’t know how to handle his feelings, okay? I wanted to be cool, to fit in. It wasn’t right and for that I’ll forever be sorry. But please, please don’t ever second guess how much I love you.” His eyes shone with tears, begging and pleading for you to believe him.

Truly, with every fiber of your being, all you wanted was to believe him. The way he held you, looked at you, treated you - it all felt like love. You had shut yourself off to the possibility of love for so long that it was hard to decipher what was real and what wasn’t.

The teenager in you was so petrified that if you gave in, gave him even the tiniest bit of you, he’d break you again.

You didn’t think you’d be able to survive that kind of heartbreak again.

Tom could sense your reluctance, and before it could settle into your bones and keep you numb forever, he spoke. “Y/N, please. I need you to understand that I’m not that kid anymore…”

Your eyes concentrated on a stain on your carpet, its pattern suddenly becoming the most fascinating thing to you as you processed his plea. When you finally lifted your gaze, tears had begun to pool.

“I’m not the same kid anymore either, Tom. I went through a lot of shit after what happened. I was fucked up for a long time….I don’t know if you realize how fucked up…” You began to shrink in on yourself, flashes of panic attacks, nights crying and screaming, scratches and cuts ‘numbing’ the pain took hold of your vision. Your mind and body were being transported back to those times and Tom acknowledged what was happening almost instantaneously. His hands found yours, carefully resting them against his chest so you could feel his breaths and mimic the pace.

A blurry Tom slowly came into focus, concern etched on his boyish form.

“Are you back with me?” His voice trembled, something you weren’t used to hearing. He was always so strong, so sure of himself. You weren’t used to the fear in his voice and on his features.

Worried eyes scanned over your face, a sigh leaving his parted lips at your tiny nod.

“I’m so sorry. I can never apologize enough for what my words, my actions, everything, did to you. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you…if you let me….”

You desperately wanted to believe him. To sink into his arms and just not have to think for a night. To turn off all of your thoughts and just be for once. Everything you had seen over the last few months lead you to believe that he had changed, he wasn’t the naive teen he was back then and he wasn’t going to throw your feelings through a blender so mindlessly as he had before.

Heart battled against mind as you stared into his hopeful honey brown hues.

“You sound like you’re proposing to me…” You tilted your head, a wary smile stretching across your pouted lips.

“Don’t even joke about that because I’ll get down on one knee right now.” A subtle wink and confident smile finished off his statement, his bravado returning tenfold at your shift in demeanor.

“Slow it down, ass. I haven’t even agreed to officially be your girlfriend again…for real this time.” You fluttered your lashes at him, easing back into comfortability with the boy you knew, the boy you loved. As sure of your feelings as you were, it would still take some time to fully open yourself up to him.

“May I take you on a date, then? A real one. Real me and real you.” His eyes pleaded with yours.

“So much real in one sentence.” You kidded.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Heart beating wildly, your sweaty palms clasped onto your chest as you panted. A myriad of LED lights twinkled in your eyesight, spanning the entire living room of your apartment. Your owlish eyes flitted from one ecstatic face to another, their hands up in the air in celebration.

“You asshole,” you muttered under your breath, hands coming down to grip your shoulders from behind.

Tom’s breath grazed the shell of your ear as he leaned in, “You love me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” you mumbled once again before plastering a wide, toothy grin on your lips, your arms opening to pull Kiara in.

“Happy Birthday, bitch!” You knew that even though Tom more than likely planned this surprise party, Kiara was clearly the one left to decorate and greet all the guests while Tom distracted you. This would explain why she was tripping over her own feet, the shots she had taken prior to calm her nerves finally kicking in.

“You know I hate surprises. How much did he pay you to do this?” You teased, elbowing Tom gently in the stomach as you mentioned him. He faked a groan, wrapping his arms around yours to keep them at your sides. Less movement for you meant less violence for him.

Coward.

“ ‘e didn’t pay anything,” she slurred. “Jus’ wanted to make you—“ A hiccup. “happy little birthday girl.” She ended her drunken performance with a gentle pat on your cheek and a satisfied smile.

“Hey, let’s check out how soft your bed is, yeah?” Lucas gently coaxed the bottle out of Kiara’s hand and her stumbling form towards her room. He whispered a happy birthday on his way past you.

You squirmed your body to turn in Tom’s tight embrace, your eyes narrowing into slits as you tried to come off as intimidating.

“You’re kind of cute, ya know?” He was. Not just physically, but deep within his soul.

“I kind of appreciate that, I guess.” Tom chuckled, reaching his hand up to cup your warm cheek.

“You’re kind of beautiful, Mouse.” He punctuated his thought with a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose.

You playfully scoffed, pushing against his chest to glare up at him. “Kind of? Well then I guess you’re just kind of okay in bed.”

“Your shaking legs say otherwise, mouse.” Tom smirked, pulling you right back into his body. He dipped his head down, his lips ghosting over yours before pressing firmly to taste your grape tinted lip stain. Butterflies released from the cage within your heart to flutter through your stomach as it usually did whenever you were in his arms.

It wasn’t easy to get to this point. As much as you wanted to forgive him and believe every word he said, the wall around your heart wouldn’t allow it.

He started off slow after attempting to take you out on a date. He was considerate and understanding when you told him you needed a bit of time before jumping right back in.

You were the first to initiate contact with him, a simple text to check in. You felt like you were in middle school again, in a way you were. It wasn’t an attempt to rewrite history, that was impossible and you wouldn’t be who you were today without everything that happened, but it was a fresh start.

Scars were revealed over time, both internal and external. There were nights where you cried and screamed at him and instead of running away, he held you and let you get it all out. His warming tone spoke praises and apologies against the crown of your head when you became too exhausted to fight. It was an uphill battle and he held on the entire time, never once deeming it ‘too much’ as you feared he would.

If you were ever concerned his feelings for you waned over time, those thoughts were quickly demolished the night he broke down in tears at your feeble attempts to once again push him away. You were sure he’d grow tired of you and instead of allowing it to happen gradually, you decided to get rid of him all at once. What you didn’t expect was for him to cry and question his own worth, his own place in your heart. He had seemed so sure of himself for so long that you didn’t even stop to think how all of this was affecting him. You felt selfish.

That night you metaphorically picked up a hammer and began to chip away at the wall surrounding your heart.

After six months of going back and forth, you asked him on a date. The smile that adorned his face would be etched into your memories til the day you die. His childlike enthusiasm told you you made the right choice.

Eights months after you revealed your true selves to each other, you let him back into your bed. There was no timeline for when you let him back into your heart because you’re not really sure you ever let him leave it.

One year since the day you bumped into each other and your lives were nowhere near where you’d imagine it’d be. Your 25th birthday felt like a cruel joke the universe was playing on you. Now, on your 26th, it was as if the universe was finally reconciling all the wrongdoings it had done to you.

Tom looked on adoringly at you as you mingled with your guests, his hands moving to tuck into his jean pockets. His fingers gingerly twisted the ring that rested in them. Some might have thought it was too soon but Tom never had to second guess his feelings for you. You were it. There was no reason to run from that feeling.

As you glanced up at him, your smile widening when you caught him staring back at you, he knew this was right where he was supposed to be.

Taglist: @blindingdutchy @the-key-to-me-myself-and-i @wayfaring----strangerstranger @gh0stgurl @marajillanana @raajali3 @mayal0pezz @notjustpenandpaperr @oh-epiphany

#run far run fast #silkholland writes #tshwritersnet #tom holland x plussize!reader #tom holland x plus size!reader #tom holland x plus size! reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfic #tom holland series #final chapter

[staryarn]

Long ass text below so. Beware

"

Each of the sinners (ppl you bring back) are referenced from a book. Gregor samsa is there. Ishmael is also there. Odysseus is an old woman war criminal

The actual chapters go metamorphosis (Gregor samsa) , crime and punishment (rodion), Demian (Emil Sinclair), wings (yi sang), and the stuff that has yet to come out (Moby dick -> Ishmael),(Wuthering Heights -> Heathcliff) , (Don Quixote-> Don Quixote) , (Dream of The Red Chamber -> Hong Lu), (Hell Screen -> Ryōshū), ( The stranger -> Meursault), (The odyssey -> Odysseus), ( faust-> faust )

Actually kinda references to actually people bwcause for Wings (yi sang( it is partially based on the creator of the book. But primarily based on the books and the plots (Gregor samsa being heavily alienated and turned into a mutated cockroach soldier against his will. A lot of apple trauma. Other soldiers also turned Roach just more mutated. Having to scavenger after the war ends), rodion (straight up kills a tax collector. Also heavy gambler who likes money), Emil Sinclair (between two worlds. As in world between prosthetics (and also forced prosthetics) and them being 'heretics' and also just. Finding his own path and being his own person. There's a good song about the boss fight), and yi sang (I'll be honest it's been a bit and I don't remember the plot but there is actual in game dialog that says he lost his wings / will to show off on his own / be his own person. The actual book is abt a guy who's fed and given money from his wife but doesn't know where she gets it until one day he finds out)

Same goes with the other characters it's just their stories haven't come out yet (Ishmael has heavy survivors guilt, mentions looking for a bastard. Heathcliff does mention Cathy and also stepping on people's feet during balls. Don Quixote heavily idealists Fixers (hired mercanaries) and thinks they're heros when more or less they aren't. Faust has some sort of bargain and mepisopholes is the bus they all ride on. Vergilius does travel with Dante through (the city) hell as a guide. Etc etc)

There is so much roach stuff and also sad apple stuff (forced to cut an apple as a like. Child experiment soldier to see of his Roach arm is working correctly. Two bosses with apple themes are shown in his chapter and one of them straight up kills beloved early introduced npc. There is a Roach skin (that can be gacha'd or like. Eventually purchased with in-game stuff that you get for free)

"

The bus is called the mephistopholes (demon faust makes a contract with. In game faust is the creator of the bus)

Vergil is only the like. I don't remember what he calls himself but tour guide bc he made a deal with faust (the reason is. Charon lost her memory and was previously called sapphire. A young fixer by the name of garnet essentially dies trying to save her but before he dies and like. Straight up becomes a crystal cocoon that breaks he has to go through the mirror stuff / different identities (the way limbus has different aus that actually fit the characters and lore in game) )

I will say the references are kinda heavy handed in game

(Gregor samsa being a war veteran, Apple trauma, one of his egos is. Straight up him throwing an apple. Another is called suddenly one day. Straight up has roach modifications and stranded his place in the war (guilt)

Rodion / rodya just in game kills a tax collector. Like in a cg. I don't know enough about crime and punishment so rip. Gambler also

Sinclair is literally torn between two worlds (heretics and also just. Living his life). There is a song called between two worlds that plays during the boss fight. Stuck between two opposing characters

Yi sang (wings) says that he lost his wings a long time ago. Very closed off and has a mirror (as if he only looks at himself and doesn't know the world around him)

Ishmaels ego says she's 'looking for that bastard'. Her weapon says hearse which is a car that carries the dead. I think there's a coffin mentioned somewhere but I don't remember. Has the same sorta survivors guilt Gregor has

Heathcliff mentions stepping on people's feet. His vg that his character art showed up with (og art) has a bunch of Graves in the rain. In one of his identities he mentions Cathy and in the ttgs teaser it shows a women (and others) at a funeral.

Don quixote is obsessed with "heroic" Fixers (hired mercenaries) and dreams of becoming one. In the start of sinclair's story we see her shove her Lance into a glass wall because a child was forcibly separated from their parent (like border control). Though her actions are 'just' they cause the sinners to get killed like. A lot.

Hong lu is shown in a red chamber in the tgs trailer. It's very hard to summarize dream of the red chamber because it's hard to translate and incredibly long. Rich and sheltered boy who seemingly doesn't know about the world (he does its just not very forward because he pauses in chapter 4's dialogue which he normally does not do)

Ryōshū is seen as portraying violence as art (in hell screen an artist is tasked by a noble to show art of hell. And to experience the traits of hell the artist (moreso forced by the noble) is forced to do horrible deeds in the sake of art (one of which is to burn his daughter in a carriage). In her og art it's shown that the five fingers (syndicates of the backstreets) are shown. She makes a statement in ch2 after braking a chandelier only for the sake of art)

(Meursault is from the stranger. He says that he doesn't talk because it's too troublesome but he does get incredibly to the point. Does things for the sake of being asked and not for his own pleasure (yknow. Like a stranger)

As far as I remember Outis's name literally means nobody. A heavy handed bootlicker to Dante that is shown incredibly odd to the other sinners (to the point of like. Making horrible insults to the sinners (like abt Sinclair calling for his dead parents before he dies or dying she should've got shot for Dante while Ishmael is straight up turning into slime) and immediately backpedals once Dante voices opinion.

There's a lot about Faust. Knows everything (made contract for the price of knowledge in book so. Makes sense. She shows up in the precursor story to make a deal with verg (already works for limbus). In her ego she's the only one who isn't wearing her striped clothes and isn't chained. She's casting an odd shadow (all of the other sinners supposedly have weird shadows casted on them). Her ego shard is a homunculus in a flask (also referencing her book)

In Gregor like. Backstory reveal they are shown in a battlefield. One of Gregor comrades straight up morphs into a roach hybrid. A giant hand (multiple actually) tries to squish everyone. Like a bug

Gregor is too scared to retrieve the golden borough (via slicing it with his arm) because his 'mom' (lady who turned him into a roach at the tender age of 15) shows up

Also note he fought in the smoke war (thing from lobotomy corporation. Basically the smoke war happened because A (guy who made angela in the image of his dead friend and was mad she wasn't like Carmen. The lady who makes everyone distort. Because he (and his good buddy Benjamin who gets turned into a robot via angela later. And like. A knows about this because he planned for it. Wanted to overthrow the old L Corp to make lobotomy corporation. Roland from library of ruina also fought in the smoke war and also like. Wasn't allowed to move into a nest (safe city) so he had to live in the backstreets and his wife got killer bc of it. It's all connected)

#i said last night id slap all of my shit on anylizimg / making a summary of this #NOT easy to digest because i refuse to edit it (0 braincells rn + allergic reaction) #also some stuff could be weong bc i havent revisted ch1-3 to like. read th3 chapters again so its going after my memory #and im.still trying to soak up ch4 #that and there are a couple books (the stranger) that i am not too familiar with #i remember a lot about hell screen despite never reading it tho #shiko speaks #lor

[talesofmetalandmagic]

Shivers (part Il)

Here for part I.

Azir wakes up all of a sudden, sweat dripping down his beak and shivers choking his words. Through blurry eyes he sees Nasus push the rest of his retinue aside and grab his hand in a stone-hard grasp.

“My lord?”

“I’m… so cold.”

It’s more a whine to himself than a notification to Nasus, as Xerath would punish him cruelly if he dared to request comfort of any kind. “You deserve nothing, Azir. This is but a morsel of the life we lived because of you.” So it catches the ex-Emperor by surprise to see Nasus bring him to his chest, grab the ulterior blankets passed upon him by Akshan and cover him with these as if he was afraid he’d slip away if he didn’t.

Now, as absolutely not imperial as it is, Azir wants to be held and comforted. He stays still and welcomes every touch as Nasus wraps his upper body into a shawl, including the back of his head – it’s much softer than… that other thing, and it’s white silk. It’s like a cocoon of warmth, and even the shivers feel less intense. He rests his head on the Curator’s shoulder and winces as he massages his feathers, shivering endlessly onto his tunic.

“Is it helping anyhow?”

“Yes… don’t go, my friend. Keep holding me tight. I’ll make sure you’re repaid f-for…”

“Shush, little bird.” What would Azir even repay him with? He’s just reciting old formulas of imperial pomp at this point. “What matters now is your welfare. You’ll have a serene rest and spread your wings once more onto the world.”

Even in the state he’s in, Azir can’t help but notice Taliyah’s face at those words. She looks as if she’d rather see him burn to a crisp, or – the sky help him – lock him back inside that coffin.

I must talk to her at once. But not now... sickness makes you foolish, Xerath has taught him over and over in his punishments. "Even more foolish than old foolish Azir. A monument of stupidity for the annals"

"Now, my lord... hold still"

"NO!"

Silence breaks into the tent as Azir realizes what has occurred. He's backed into the fabric walls of the tent, blankets falling off him, covering his face with his crossed arms – and Nasus watches him in dismay, holding a damp cloth in his fist which is now dripping onto the sandy floor of the tent.

Did he honestly think he'd...

As the rest of the retinue backs off, partly to avoid whatever vagary may be coming through his mind, partly to give him space to breathe and compose himself, Azir blinks his way back onto the earth. What am I doing? Nasus is not Xerath, he wouldn't... but all he saw was a fist coming towards him, and he's received so many fists to the face – and slaps, and kicks, and even canes for Shurima's sake – they end up blending onto each other.

"Ugh... I'm utterly ashamed of my behavior, Nasus." Yes, by his behavior, because being scared you'd get punched in the face after more than a year where they treated you like dirt is oh so very shameful mr. Azir Omah. "I misconstrued. I just... I saw your fist and..."

Nasus looks as if he's seen a ghost. "You thought I wanted to hit you?"

"...I saw something that wasn't there. My mind is playing games on me... Oh..."

Azir is shivering once again, even more than before. He doesn't call for help – you don't get that, Xerath hisses in his feverish mind, you don't get anything you don't deserve – but he's too weak and cold to keep Nasus from holding him into his arms, wrapping him back up in a cocoon of silk and wool and, this time, dabbing his face with the damp cloth, heaving in faint pleasure as the water trails between his feathers.

"Listen to me, my lord, my sweet little bird." Taliyah's face could freeze Hell itself. "If a time ever comes that I strike you, may I suffer like Renekton and twice over. I've failed you enough. I should have been there, but..."

"Just... hold me", Azir huffs. He doesn't have time for Nasus' self pity. He just wants everything to stop hurting for three seconds.

#lol #league of legends #azir #omah azir #emperor azir #nasus #taliyah #sivir #samira #akshan #azir's new groove

[nvrcmplt]

"perry pie," she reaches over, tugging at his sleeve for attention just as she calls his nickname. "what's it like sleeping in a coffin? is it scary?"

Hm? The question wasn't new, but it wasn't common when after all - he kind of hid the best he could what he was. Being goth was a little easier to just say it's a vampire thing but when working in professional garbs it was hard to get away with the makeup and piercings, since he took it all off. Nina though - bless her little cat self, was a being living in the now and proud.

"Coffins?" He stated, forgetting that yes, he does have a coffin in his room that's used instead of a bed like a normal person. "Well, it's nice and snug? Made to my body size and width - since I don't move about sleeping much." He started, placing his book down on his front and rolling his lips in thought. How to explain it. "Mm, think of it being under your bedsheets when you're anxious - when you roll up and cocoon yourself, tucking feet in and all that - the outside stimulation stops, right?" He explained with a smile.

"It's like that in a coffin. It's cozy, quiet, a wall against the world so yeah - it's comforting for me. You can try it out if you want, it's been modified to have gaps around the lid, just in case." Not for him, since breathing in that space wasn't hard but for the unfortunate folks like Nina or Yasushi, who wanna climb on in and get the lid closed on 'em. Happened twice to Yasushi already.

"It's got memory foam cushioning too - it's the best."

#pinkminxed #« ( Perry ) » Answers. #aisjdb this was cute??? #also perry just promotin' his coffin to everyone cuz it is like the comfiest thing on the planet

[yanderes-galore]

Yandere Halloween Prompts Day: 7

Word/Theme: Tomb

Yandere! Cat Hybrid! Mummy OC (Garai)

A/N: Here comes yet another OC, this time a male cat hybrid from egyptian times. Although, he is a bit, undead- This was originally going to be a female OC but I did not wish to think of Ankha.

A/N 2: I wanted to do more for this but it was getting too long.

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Yandere behavior (?), Implied Kidnapping/Imprisonment.

Back in egyptian times, cats were worshipped and treated as gods. So imagine the surprise when a cat hybrid pharaoh rose to power. His name was Garai.

Garai was a strong hybrid, one that was fast and easily swiped at foes with his claws. Hybrids were rare during this time. This made Garai rise to power rather quickly.

Garai was described as having tan skin, dark hair, and dawning a black ears and tail. Subjects of Garai also described his eyes as a deep shade of blue.

Garai then held the title of pharaoh for years before eventually being put to rest due to a fight. He was respected and sealed off in a tomb, mummified with many riches.

This was all according to scriptures you had read while researching. Garai was one of the first hybrids encountered in Egypt and you had wanted to research more. Egyptology was something you were studying and luckily you managed to get a trip to Egypt with a research team to learn more for your major in college.

"Garai...." You hum to yourself. "The first hybrid pharaoh, huh? Fitting he was a cat."

Garai's tomb looked quite dull on the outside. With hesitancy, you watched the team pry open the ancient tomb. It was then you saw how the inside was decorated.

Many carvings covered the wall, all depicting the tan cat pharaoh. He looked to be held in high regard. It was interesting at how god like all these depictions looked.

The sarcophagus of Garai was even better to look at. Its appearance was very cat like, but other than that it looked similar to the other pharaohs of his time.

"Shall we open it?" One researcher comments. You give a hesitant look.

"Should we really try? What if we damage the corpse?" You sigh. "The sunlight may be too harsh-"

"It's just a quick look." They say back. "This is for research, right?"

You look down at the coffin and then slowly nod.

"Right. For research."

With a soft 'crack', the coffin lid was pried open with the tools that were with you. Inside was exactly what you thought. The mummified body of Garai.

Black and torn cat ears peeked through the bandages slightly, the body wrapped tightly in its own little cocoon. A pendant hangs from the bandages, green like malachite.

Coughing slightly due to the dust, you step back. Deciding to spend time away from the dusty old corpse of the cat pharaoh you go back to studying the depictions on the wall.

Time seems as though it takes forever to pass, but soon the other researchers close the coffin up and get ready to have a break.

"We're getting lunch, you coming along?" The researcher from before asks.

"Ah... I plan on taking a few quick notes. I'll come by in a bit." You answer, eyes quickly snapping back to the wall.

"Suit yourself." They say before leaving. "We'll bring you back something."

"Okay!" You reply, a soft bored noise leaving your lips as you start to scratch words down in your notebook.

20 minutes pass and you hear something hit the floor.

"...Guys? You there? You should be more careful everything here is fragile." You call, expecting an answer.

Nothing.

Clicking your tongue, you shut your notebook and walk towards the entrance more. They seem awfully quiet...did they not want to disturb you?

You stop your curiosity when you see an odd silhouette. The shape had its back towards you and had a tall yet skeletal body. What caught you most off guard was the tail and ears, the rest of the body covered in bandages.

Garai...that's what came to your mind. Garai had seemingly come back from the dead. Did... a mummy really exist in front of you..?

Fearful of what the 'mummy' planned to do, you distance yourself and head deeper into the tomb.

"What the hell..." You mutter, becoming fidgety.

You then heard what sounded like stone slabs slide together, your blood running cold once you figured out what happened. Did Garai just shut you in the tomb with him.

The area was dark thanks to the lack of sunlight. What you did notice was the heavy and raspy breathing. The only 'source' of light being the odd glowing malachite pendant on the mummy.

"Who...are...you?" The voice is gruff but raspy, like the vocal cords had been neglected for quite some time. Your nose is assaulted with the smell of must, feeling a presence near you. You could tell the language was Arabic....

You can't bear to answer the undead pharaoh.

"Speak." The command is very authoritative. You see the malachite pendant dangle in front of you, dull blue eyes being illuminated by the glow.

This...really was Garai, wasn't it?

"...(Y/N)...People call me (Y/N)-" You answer back in Arabic, hoping to get away from the undead hybrid.

"...Why...are you...here?" Garai rasps, ears and tail stiff but still movable.

"Research-" You cough, the smell plaguing you.

"Research...?" The mummy hums, tilting his head. "You are from...future...yes?"

"You could say that." You sigh.

The hybrid then stumbles around you, seeming to inspect you.

"Interesting..." Is all Garai says for a moment before seating himself back in front of you. "I was not...expecting to wake...in front of such an... attractive human."

You pause, furrowing your brow.

Did...Did a literal corpse just-

"T-Thank you...?" You comment in confusion, eyes going from Garai's dead ones to the malachite pendant on him. Did that have something to do with the mummy raising from the dead?

You shake your head, walking briskly away from the bandaged cat hybrid.

Then you felt dry, cold, hands grip your waist. You instantly jump, quickly trying to turn around.

"Leaving so...soon?" A choked laugh comes from Garai as he tries pulling you further into the tomb. "How...disappointing."

"Let me go, you're supposed to be dead- I need to leave!" You try to plead.

"Did you...know...cats were treated...as...Gods?" Garai croaks, pulling you closer to his cold and bandaged body.

"...Yes...?"

"I'm royalty." The cat mummy tsks. "Don't you wish...to stay and chat?"

"I have no need to, I really should go see my team."

The mummy shakes his head, holding your hand in his before eying your notebook.

"You need...research, right? I can...give you information... stay awhile." Garai offers, you struggling.

"No, really, I must-"

Garai's eyes go from his dull blue to a green glow like his pendant, eyes narrowed while he stares into yours.

"Stay...awhile."

His tone is so...hypnotizing.

You blankly stare at the mummy, one thought coming into your mind.

This is the chance of a life time, to interview the pharaoh you were researching!

Maybe you should stay awhile longer....

#yandere hybrid #yandere mummy #panther halloween event 2021

[charmspoint]

satosugu + i would die for you

Back at it again folks no. 4! There's a lot of bug talk here if that isn't ur thing

-

Satoru.

That was all he was aware of at the moment.

Satoru.

Consciousness was like a spider’s web, delicate and intricate, shuddering at each wrong move, threatening to snap if tugged on too roughly.

What was he?

The fly caught in the web or the dead spider hanging from it?

A broken dragonfly wing.

A soap bubble in the second after it was burst, miniscule drops still hanging in the air. Just moments away from being completely swept away by the wind and the sun.

Pieces, fragments, remains.

Satoru had called his name; it was what woke him up in the first place. It was what stirred those fragments, a small earthquake of a genesis that had shifted him in place just so. Just enough for him to respond.

Even if that response had been barely more than a desperate flap of a broken wing.

Satoru had called his name but he had forgotten it again already.

Memory didn’t exist here, not in the way he needed to build proper awareness. Just images trapped in the web. Satoru’s eyes, the expression he had made. Hurt, revolted, furious. Images fell and they caught against the web strands, vibrations traveling to what remained of him at the center.

Do something, do something, do something.

But moving alone felt like pushing against the lid of his coffin. He wasn’t even sure how he had managed it at that moment, just that Satoru asked him and so he had complied.

How are you gonna let yourself be used like that, Suguru?

Suguru.

Had that been his name and how long ago?

Regained and gone again, slipping through the web.

Where had Satoru gone, why wouldn’t he call for him again?

Heavy, heavy, heavy pressure in his hand. If he tried to open his eyes hard enough he could just glimpse the dull grayness of the prison realm.

Not like this, not like this.

Do something, do something, do something.

Pushing back to life felt like trying to melt flesh off of his bones by will alone. Like his mind had been caught as his body ascended, dragged out of him inch by bloody inch.

But he needed to do it anyway. He needed to push through the numbness and the nothingness with fingers he didn’t have and a heart that didn’t beat. Because even through the darkness he could feel the irrefutable weight of Satoru’s imprisonment and he could not lay idle.

What would be waiting for him when he broke through? When the darkness finally slipped away from his body, leaving him bare and reborn. Satoru had struck blue through his heart, and then the infestation pushed out his brain, like a cuckoo bird would an egg.

How much of his body remained?

How much of his body was his body?

How many seconds would he have to breathe, once the clock struck his resurrection?

Would it be enough to free Satoru? Would it be enough to tell him he had missed him? Would it be enough to kiss him?

How many stolen seconds before he was unavoidably back to ashes?

His mind was a delicate web, frail but sure. He could probably remain as he was for decades if not centuries more. If he fought it, if he moved and crawled and clawed, the net would fail him and he would crumble.

There would be no surviving in the world outside his cocoon.

He would do it still. He would do something, do something, do something.

Even if it costed him the last fractured shred of his life, he would set Satoru free.

#lucy does a write #drabble prompts #anon #satosugu #jujutsu kaisen #suguru geto

[beauenfer]

Confessions We Won’t Admit | pt. 2

ﾟ: *✧𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫: @beauenfer ﾟ: *✧𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,421

:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆* .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* FANDOM: Buffy The Vampire Slayer

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* PAIRING: Xander Harris x chase!Reader

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* WARNING: vampires and grr, conflicted feelings, A VERY BAD ENDING BECAUSE I’M LAZY, some pining

•‎𐩐 ༘ ✦* SUMMARY: Reader is Cordelias sister, or according to Xander, Satans spawn. They don’t get along (well, most days), but all it takes is for some alone time in a sewer and an almost kiss for them to figure out why

:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆* .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“I’M THINKING THAT WE SEPERATE into groups. One group is the distraction while the other group takes whatever the hell looks important. I don’t know, I’m just going with plans we’ve had in the past. Back to the point, I recognize that crypt over there. Me and Angel got stuck in there once-” You were interrupted by Xander, who raised a finger. You huffed, looking at him.

“Whoa, what were you doing with Angel?” He asked, but you just rolled your eyes, continuing on.

“Anyways, that crypt has tunnel access back to town, that’s how me and Angel escaped.” You explained with a grin, hoping it made sense to everyone else. But Xander and Willow just gave you confused looks, making your face fall. Xander and Willow shared an uncertain look, then looked back at you. You looked between them, frowning.

“What?” You asked, shrugging your hands.

“I don’t know, splitting up? Who would be the teams?” Willow murmured, fidgeting with her fingers.

“And more importantly, why were you with Angel?” Xander put up his finger again, circling it in your face. You ignored him, slumping down. You hadn’t thought that far ahead, but you knew it was a good idea.

“Well Cordelia can’t be part of the distraction, she’s broken. And Xander can’t be the one who steals, he’s too big and loud.” You mumbled, biting on your lip as you thought about where that puts you and Willow.

“I mean, what do you want to do, Willow?” You asked, the idea of being alone with Xander in a tunnel not sounding very enticing, especially with the knowledge of what Cordelia thought she knew. And yourself, you weren’t sure how you could act. But with the look on Willow’s face you already knew her answer.

“Oh no, I’m not very good at distracting. I’m small and prefer to stay out of the spotlight, ya know? But come to me with computers and witchy spices, I’m your gal. Demons and running? It’s a no.” Willow shook her head, her eyes wide at the idea. You licked your drying lips, nodding your head.

“Yeha, I figured. Come on, Xander. We need to distract.” You got off the ground, wiping your thighs of stray grass and dirt. Xander scrambled up, taking an obnoxious breath in.

“Okay, you can do this. You’re the Xan-Man! You laugh in the face of danger!” Xander pumped his fist, trying to rile himself into it. In the mena time, you catered towards Cordelia, grabbing her arms and pulling her up. She was still in shock, her eyes wide.

“Hey, Cordy, I need you to listen, okay? You’re going to stand here the entire time and do nothing. Okay? And then when Willow comes back you’ll follow her. Okay?” You rubbed her shoulders, nodding your head encouragingly. She just nodded, letting out a whine.

“Ohhh, okay.” You nodded your head, looking towards Willow with a more serious expression.

You could see the redhead was filled with nerves, biting on her fingernails. You grabbed her shoulders too.

“Okay, Willow. Just grab something shiny, or something that looks important. You’ve done this before, you got this. And make sure Cordelia doesn’t die. No pressure or anything, but we’re counting on you.” You smiled, seeing her expression morph into terror.

You turned away, ignoring Xander as he gave himself affirmations.

You walked towards the edge of the crypt so you could peek around the corner. You checked to make sure the robed figures still had their backs turned, which they did. But you noticed Xander was right about the weird veiny thing. There were about six demons in tattered brown robes circling around a coffin, a white shell encasing a demon that's head was out of the slimy cocoon like thing. Your mouth curled up in disgust, seeing the veins and the slime. But you squint your eyes, trying to look between the large bodies to see if there was anything important lying around. There was a bowl encrusted in jewels, but that didn’t seem good enough. There was an object that seemed to glow with an orange aura, probably the thing that the demons were drawing power from. You couldn’t make out what it was, but you made sure to point it out to Willow. She gave you a weak nod, which was all you needed.

You looked back at Xander.

“Are you ready to save the day, Xan-Man? In that horrible outfit of yours I’m appalled you walked out of the house in?” You smirked, seeing his offended expression.

“Well here’s a question. How are we going to distract them?” He asked, but you just took an inhale of confidence and walked into the moonlight, making Xander gape at you when you made loud noises to gain the demons attention.

Willow stared in horror, Cordelia was just confused.

“Hello! I’m talking to you! There’s a beautiful, smart girl over here trying to get your attention!” You yelled, your hand reaching for the axe in your waistband. Just as you planned, the humming stopped and they snapped their head towards you with a growl, making your heart jump. You looked at Xander as he stood behind the crypt still, signalling him to come out.

“Uh, hello there. I’m this here cemetery police and we’re not supposed to be having parties this late at night. I wouldn’t want to have to call your parents… unless I had to. So how about-” You gripped Xanders sleeve when the demons started walking towards you collectively, their milky white skin a contrast to the night.

“Ugh, Xander. We should run. Like right now.” You stated, wide-eyed. Quickly grabbed the axe and threw it blindly into the group, already turning around to run before you could see who it hit. But it must’ve hit someone, with the bone-chilling roar and stomping of feet running after you.

“What the hell! Was that an axe!” Xander yelled as the two of you sprinted down an aisle of graves, hoping to buy enough time for Willow to steal the object. Your chest burned and your feet ached with every stomp into the earth, but as you and Xander curved around towards the crypt you knew you couldn’t stop now. You didn’t answer him, nor look behind you as you and Xander bounded up the steps to the crypt and threw yourselves inside, quickly going towards the door to hold it shut. The demons hadn’t made it yet, you could tell from the silence. You and Xander breathed heavily as you pinned your backs to the door, silently praying the plan worked as your eyes scanned the room.

“In there!” You scrambled off the door and ran to the familiar coffin, Xander helping you push the top off with a groan. You glanced towards the door, your heart beating incredibly fast as dust exploded in your faces. You didn’t remember it taking this long, but didn’t hesitate to lift the skeleton, covered in cobwebs, and the padding it laid on, seeing the sewer floor deep below.

You hopped inside quickly, your feet splashing in sewer water. Xander did the same, hopping in after you and falling on his shoulder with a groan. As the skeleton bed fell back down on the frame that held it up, putting you in a very dim sewer tunnel, you fell to Xander’s side to make sure he was okay.

“Xander, are you okay?” You panted, reaching for his shoulder. He grimaced in pain, breathing erratically just as you.

“Oh yeah. My chest, not so much.” He gasped, but you put a finger on his mouth to silence him when you heard noises above you, the gravelly sound of whatever demons were following you. You cursed yourself for leaving the coffin top off completely but you didn’t think they were smart enough to figure out where you were.

After a moment or two, the voices were gone, and you and Xander were left in a rounded tunnel that smelt like something awful, lit by dim lights separated every ten feet. You swallowed, looking back down at Xander with a breathy laugh, giving him a grin.

“Xander, it worked! It worked! I’m so smart!” You squealed, grabbing his face and turning his head towards you in an adrenaline-fueled haze. He let out a nervous laugh, looking up at you with wide brown eyes that looked over your face in nervousness. Your hands were touching his face, your eyes were looking into his and your lips were just one kiss away. You hadn’t meant to grab him like this, but you were happy. Your smile faded slightly as your eyes fell down to his lips on accident, then back into his eyes. That fluttery feeling from before (it felt like hours ago), surfaced in your stomach again, and you felt your cheeks start to heat up. You scrambled off of him, embarrassed. You stood up, making sure there was a good twenty feet between the both of you. It wasn’t the proximity that scared you, there’ve been plenty of times Xander got in your face during an argument. No, it wasn’t the proximity. It was the feel of his breath on your chin, the way your heart jumped out of your chest and the way your lips itched when you looked at his. You couldn’t believe yourself, rationalizing it as you were just excited, and full of adrenaline.

Xander scrambled off the floor one stunned moment later, letting out a laugh and wringing his hands together to calm himself down. Did he read that situation right? Did he really look at your lips and did he really just do that? Nahhhhh. It was just the fear and the nerves.

“Um, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things uncomfortable. I was just happy, you know, happy. Anyways, let’s just walk, we should just walk… away from each other.” You mumbled the last part, pointing in the forward direction of a long tunnel that seemed to stretch on for miles. Xander nodded his head frantically, agreeing with you.

“Yeah, definitely. I was just- you were just-. Adrenaline, excitement, hahaha.” Xander gave your back a panicked expression, laughing to relieve the tension that seemed to sizzle in between you two. You were already walking away, feeling hot in your own skin. Your cheeks were flushed, and you were breathing heavily for a different reason entirely. You felt humiliated, and didn’t bother glancing at Xander as you two walked on in silence, the only sound echoing around you was the splash of your shoes in the water, as well as your own shame that seemed to roar back at you.

You were sure he felt the same.

:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆* .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

You don’t know how much time had passed by just walking in silence, but you knew it must’ve been a while because your legs were starting to ache and sweat was clinging to your neck. Although you knew it was more important to think about Willow and Cordelia and whether or not the plan was successful, or whether or not they were even alive, you couldn’t stop thinking about Xander.

You just kept thinking and thinking. The reason you weren’t interested in boy’s anymore, the reason you loved his cologne, the reason you stared after him, the reason you argued with him. You didn’t want to acknowledge the truth but you couldn’t deny it either. It all just made too much sense. And you had been with your fair share of guys to know whether or not you liked them. And the calamitous truth was that you like Xander. You did, and you were too smart to deny it. You loved his stupid jokes, his stupid hair, his stupid smile, his stupid eyes.

But with this realization came the remembrance of Cordelia. He dated your sister, and despite what Cordelia said about being completely over him she was with him for a year, you couldn’t do that to your own sibling. But that’s where you debated back and forth because Cordelia said she didn’t like him, didn’t even look at him look that anymore. But your own morals felt like you were betraying her for liking him.

And once you realized that you figured out why you didn’t like him, or pretended not to. You told yourself that if you were mean he would go away, you’d forget about him and get over it. You told yourself that if you hurt his feelings, he wouldn’t hurt yours. It was that whole ‘pulling her pigtails’ ploy children did. You teased them because you liked them, and loved it when they would react.

You didn’t know what Xander was thinking, but you knew the stomping of his shoes was really pissing you off.

“Xander? Can you stop walking so loudly? We’re trying to escape, not give away our location.” You sneered, looking back at him. He was on the complete other side of you, walking with his hands in his pockets and his head down.

He snapped his head up towards you, eyes wide like he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

“Uh-huh, sure. Whatever.” He mumbled distractedly, looking back down. You furrowed your eyebrows, your shoulders tense with your own irritation. You clenched your jaw, but a part of you wanted to turn around and ask him what the problem was. On the other hand you didn’t want to add on to your own feelings and give yourself any more ideas.

So you just kept walking, hoping you’d see the sewer cover on the ceiling with a ladder leading up to it any time soon. You needed to get out of here; away from the heat, away from the sweat, and away from Xander.

:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*: .: ⋆*･ﾟ: ﾟ .: ⋆* .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

“Okay, just because you have a problem with it doesn’t mean I have to stop doing it!” You exclaimed, rolling your eyes. Your voice echoed down the tube of smelly water, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that your feet really hurt, your back hurt, everything hurt. You really didn’t remember having to walk this long when you were with Angel, but knowing him he probably knew a shortcut you didn’t pay attention to. He travelled using these tunnels; he knew a lot more than you did.

“Oh look who’s talking. Little Miss Bossy has a problem when other people tell her what to do. How do you like them apples!” Xander shouted, throwing his arms up and giving you an annoyed expression you couldn’t see. You haven’t looked at him once since The Incident, which you now labelled it as. You certainly weren’t going to now.

You groaned, stopping in your tracks as you threw your head up to look at the grimy ceiling.

“Just shut up, Xander! We don’t need to argue about everything!” You yelled, hearing his loud scoff from behind you. It had you clenching your jaw.

He put his hands on his hips.

“Says the girl who starts most of them.” He said condescendingly, making you narrow your eyes and roll your jaw in anger. You weren’t going to turn around, but he was really pissing you off. You pinched your fingers together and inhaled slowly, walking forward once more.

“You know, I really don’t understand why you’re still talking. This must’ve been why you and Cordelia broke up!” You yelled. And at this point you were so fed up with your own self and your conflicted mind that you weren’t in your right mind to stop yourself from saying things you didn’t mean.

Xander gaped at you, but quickly recovered, walking up to you. He grabbed your arm and turned you around, making you stumble slightly. You glared up at him, looking into his brown eyes that seemed to flare with the flames of his anger. You never really saw him like this, but you bet he was feeling the effects of the sewer just the same as you were.

Poorly.

But you couldn’t think clearly when he was close to you like this, your mind was clouded with the smell of sweat, dirt, and the faint scent of his cologne from earlier. You breathed deeply as another tingling sensation shot down to your stomach, flaring your nostrils.

“You wanna know why me and Cordelia broke up? Or do you already know since you seem to know everything else?!” Xander exclaimed, taking a step away from you. You stayed silent, resisting the temptation to follow his scent that seemed to linger in your nose.

“Because I’ll tell you!” He threw his hands up, his eyebrows raised at you.

“Why, Xander? Why?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms that seemed to be streaked in grime.

“Because I liked you! Which, now that I think about it, wasn’t a very smart decision. But you know what, I did, and I don’t really know how or when. I just know that I woke up one day and the first thought that came to my mind was you. What are you doing, what are you wearing. And then after that I stared at you in class. Which was a little creepy, I’m man enough to admit that. But you were so confusing. One day you liked me and the next you were saying my shirt didn’t match my face. But you know what, I don’t even know what I’m saying.” He ranted, throwing his hands up and turning away from you, shaking his head. He huffed, looking down at his shoes.

“If you’re going to reject me, do it now. But don’t do it to my face.” He said, but you just stared at his back, confused.

For a moment you thought that the heat and claustrophobia was getting to you, playing tricks on your mind and making you hear things you just wanted to hear. You breathed slowly to calm yourself down as your mouth went dry, licking your lips.

“Did you just say you liked me?” You mumbled without meaning to, staring at Xander’s shoes in shock.

“Uh, no. Did I say that? We should go back to the arguing. Your hair looks bad. Uh, your shoes are too green. Um, Um, I hate your face!” He frantically pointed at everything mentioned, turning around and letting out a nervous laugh. You cocked your head, millions of thoughts going through your head.

“You said you liked me…” You repeated, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.

As he started to try and defend himself, you looked at his face. Strands of his hair sticking to that thin sheen of sweat on his forehead, his stubble above his top lip, his wild brown eyes. You took a step forward like something was pushing you towards him, but in reality this was your own doing. You were the one walking towards him with a determined glide, you were the one that grabbed his head, and you were the one that silenced his rambling with your lips on his.

Your lips. On his.

As his body went limp against yours and his wide eyes finally closed, a weight seemed to come off your chest and your mind seemed to have become cleansed. You felt like you were floating, you felt weightless.

You separated from him with your eyes still closed, your hands still wrapped around his cheeks.

You felt his breath hitting your nose as you came back down to earth, slowly opening your eyes and looking up at his amazed expression. His lips were still puckered as he blinked down at you; once, twice.

“I kind of like you, too.” You whispered, swallowing down a lump in your throat.

“Uh, did that just happen?” He murmured, his finger coming between you two as he waved it around, looking at you with a confused expression.

A smile flickered at the corners of your lips as you stared up at the man who had your heart since you met him, standing on your tippy toes to look at him.

“Yeah it did. So... what are your thoughts on that?” You asked in a much gentler tone, seeing his frantic eyes flicker down towards you.

“Uh, you know. I don’t feel so bad for breaking up with your sister, so that’s a plus.” Xander gave you one of those goofy grins you liked, still in a state of shock.

“You wanna kiss again?” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Um, if you want to.”

And you did.

You kissed him, over and over again.

For the rest of your vampire-filled lives.

This ending is so bad. I just needed to get this finished and I actually hate it. LIKE WHAT DA FUCK

#xander harris fanfic #xander harris x reader #xander harris imagine #xander harris fanfiction #Xander Harris #Alexander Harris #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #frenemies

[caedogeist-rights]

No results found for: Destiny. (Did you mean fate? Did you mean weaving? Did you mean spider’s web? Did you mean identity? Did you mean culture?)

ID: A poem made of screenshots of text arranged in a zig-zag. The background is a grey oval with a white spiderweb inside of it, and a weave pattern behind it made of low-saturated blue and red threads. The poem is as follows: I was a moving thing / Before I was a human being / the framework for the self-identity of the culture and individual / We are stood and somehow calm / Within the madness of a storm / Mention of textiles in folklore is ancient, / The way the warp and filling threads interlace with each other is called the weave. / and the circle keeps closing / and I'm caught in the wheel. / Oh, happiness isn't your goal / The loom is a symbol of cosmic creation and the structure upon which individual destiny is woven. / So what fate awaits / without you / without you ? / If I become someone else after this / Trust me it wasn't by accident / I'm seeing someone who remembers it / leaf by leaf, thread by thread. / I graft the tales into my open hands. / I dream of her sometimes, / with something, nothing, something / swimming inside. / You have nothing to lose but this breath / in cocoons of silken thread. / If we can learn that we can turn our coffin into a ghost / And our bodies to telescopes / Transformed by the essence of the art / I lend her by breath, I give her my legs, / Both warp and weft can be visible in the final product. / In the middle of the road, I stand / between rivers that won't let me go, / Spiders are associated with creation / My markings and makings / Look into the spider of your wound / I shall gather myself into myself again, / I shall take my scattered selves and make them one, / Watching the future come and the present go, / What did we talk about? I am trying to remember / (Weft is an old English word / meaning "that which is woven"; compare leave and left.)

alt versions and sources under the cut! also plz click to enlarge the words... they are blurry.

Sources: - "Make Me Believe"- the Everlove - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Creation_myth - "Exhale Inhale"- AURORA - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Textiles_in_folklore - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weaving - "The Teller of Tales"- Gabriela Mistral, translated by Ursula K. Le Guin - "Maker"- Anjimile - "Apotheosis"- Kai Straw - "Lie"- Janet McAdams - "Written After a Massacre in the Year 2018"- Daniel Boruzutzky (the poem, not the book) - "Long Suffering"- Eliza Grace - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cultural_depictions_of_spiders - "The Crystal Gazer"- Sara Teasdale

ID: the same poem as above, but on a plain white background. Around the zig-zag is ribbons of blue, black, and pink dots.

ID: Again, the same poem, but the background is periwinkle and only has the oval shaped-spiderweb behind the words.

#benny speaks #benny art #uhhhh idk what else to tag this #goop ditto #read the teller of tales by gabriel mistral and listen to apotheosis by kai straw i highly suggest it

[mevekagvain]

Chapter 253 - Rostere's hair is driving me crazy. Him vs 3rd Elder for wtf is going on with their hair.

- Union Elders have like 0 diplomacy skills. Like Roctis and Rostere are the only ones who had any when it cones down to it. On one hand I do understand why it's like that but on the other... wtf.

- Truly do not understand why so many Union agents wear suits. Why is that a uniform mandated by the Union?

Chapter 254 - I love all the mistakes in noblesse like why does he have dark skin in this panel 🤡

- No but why do they bite down on their pills why does it work like that do the pills contain a liquid that absorbs faster. They get grey skin instantly though and look like zombies lol.

Chapter 255 - Oh so anyone in the assassination squad can bury their memories if necessary. Fascinating.

Chapter 256 - Why is Muar an Elder? What are his accomplishments? Is it because he's tall?

- What, your brother who literally tried to wipe out humans so you wouldn't get hurt never said he'd protect you, Raizel? The previous lord who obviously loved you dearly never displayed that sentiment? Only Frankenstein and now M-21 ever did? I don't believe you,,, but maybe he's just excluding family or something.

Chapter 257 - The dichotomy of M-21 accurately commenting on how Frankenstein insulting the two Elders is stupid vs Regis admiring the devotion he has for Raizel... pure comedy right there. Seira also just sweatdrops so obviously her stance is like M-21s.

- Muar called Frankenstein pretty lmao.

- If becoming one of the strongest modified humans of the era included transforming into a hideous monster I would simply refuse. Rip to the Union Elders but I'm different. But srsly how tf did Muar think turning into a mantis was a good idea.

Chapter 258 - Just when the household thinks Frankenstein might be taunting people because that's a good strategy, Raizel proves it false immediately... I pity the clan leaders who had to deal with Frankenstein. Especially the civil ones.

- Seira!! I'd give a pass if you killed someone in cold blood <3

Chapter 259 - FLASHBACK TIME

- This flashback has the worst fucking translations regardless of versions... one version literally uses three different spellings for Rousare despite the flashback being contained to one chapter, another has Gechutel saying 'his son' instead of 'my son', and god forbid what other people may have done. This is why I thought that Seira canonically had a brother but no, she doesn't. The translations are just that bad.

- Rip Rostere's mustache.

Chapter 260 - The grim reaper <3

Chapter 261 - I wonder if you offered Yuri better pay and a surefire way of not being killed by Crombel if he'd betray him. Because like, the assassination squad brainwashed loyalty is extremely strong.

Chapter 262 - Rip Bonerre. I liked you.

- But why did they choose the 5th, 7th, and 8th? Why miss the 6th? It can't be because both Urokai and Zarga are nobles since theyre traitors, though otherwise I would have said it was a strong enough reason. Why is Urokai so special?

Chapter 263 - Nobles!!!!!!!! I love how Ludis always stands with Karias.

- Ludis being the one who's always trying to rein Karias in and not getting mad at him,,,, my darling sons. God I feel like Mevek adopting Lily when I call nobles who at mininum must be 700 my sons.

- The coffin is in much worse shape than in the beginning of the manhwa. So perhaps the personal sanctuary mimics the state of the noblesse? So then that means ur-Hulda's pond would have all the flora both around it and actually in the pond be wilting or dead and the waters would seem stale? And for Raizel's brother his clouds would likely be patchy and low to the ground but if the state also reflects strong emotions then his clouds could rain or thunder if he was upset when entering his nap. Xuvunue's cocoon and web would likely be frayed and fragile instead of being strong spider silk. Or I'm reading too much into it and the coffin was just drawn weirdly but I think the former is cooler lol.

Chapter 264 - Where did they get these photos they're pasting into the lab results of all the Noblesse scientists 😭? I want to see them in large clear resolution.

- Ashoka saying Frankenstein couldn't fight him unless he defeated all the clan leaders first... king. I'd vote him in as lord.

But wait, if it was going to be 12 vs 1 which clan leader didn't try to murder Frankenstein? My votes on Zarga, if only because in my heart he's a lazy fucker who's the definition of go girl give us nothing <3 probably checks out according to my ocs too hmm. Gradeus ofc will take any opportunity for a fight, Urokai just hates Frankenstein, Krasis is a lord stan so ofc he's upset that Frankenstein dared to suggest a spar with the lord, Edian probably found him annoying and arrogant, Sarathiel Elenor is a proper noble tm so ofc she's upset, Rayga is a lord stan, Roctis is a noble tm, Gechutel is a noble tm, Shikoku K. Loyard just thinks it's hilarious and joined in, Azrael Raguel Mergas does it to entertain mvp lord since she knows he'd find it hilarious, Yali Ru actually adores the lord behind her extremely shy demeanour, Lagus also just thinks it's hilarious. Zarga would find Frankenstein infuriating as in canon but also amusing. He just sits it out because he's lazy.

Ofc like, Frankenstein would have 100% lost said 12 vs 1 fight lol, and if he scheduled proper 1 vs 1 fights he still wouldn't have been able to challenge Ashoka because of the one clan leader aka Zarga avoiding fighting him shjsjsjs.

#noblesse #raining while reading

[soulsailing]

Psychosis stories

So when I was in psychosis and I was terrified,I invented an imaginary world where I could find safety to cope with constant fear, isolation, uncertainty.

It was like an organic video game, and you could level up or down.

The main level was my current state of being. If I couldn’t handle it, I would sink to either the left or the right. On the left was a green meadow surrounded by golden light. I called it the honey meadows, because the word medaus is the genitive in Lithuanian that means honey, and it rhymes with Meadows. (I was studying Lithuanian at the time.) My friend took me to a meadow before she took me to the ER. And she told me that since I was sick, I should lay in the grass, and even nibble it like a sick cat would do. I imagined there would be bunnies, maybe centaurs, unicorns, white and yellow daisies, mana coming from the ground, and faery women willing to dance with me. I imagined in my distress that I was back there, in the honey meadows, and the light would pull me up.

But there was also darkness. There was a man who screamed over and over again, almost growling, for hours a room or two away while I was hospitalized. He went on to sexually harass me. I imagined he was a sick or dying demon, and I imagined the nurses were shades on the River Styx on the way to heaven or hell. You could hear the rustling of paper and dangling keys in the darkness, and someone watched me through the doorway, an office chair at times rolling. I imagined the black meadows, surrounded by darkness, but with a vibrant blue glowing light. I imagined that once out the danger and the damage of the darkness, one could float back to the honey meadows. 

But ultimately, I wanted to level up through the architecture of my own mind. I imagined the Third Room to be managed by my friend Victor, whose name in Chinese means “Home.” I felt that this would be the room of stability, where you could recover and find the strength to move onto beautiful and better things. To actually be more than just a little ok. I never made it past this level.

However, I could see through the tree-like mandalas that there were rooms up ahead with music. They were rather digital looking. There were pixels of muted shades, with a forest framing a semi-circle of musicians and cute animals. I thought that the animals were my friends who transformed out of their human state. I imagined that the walls were lined with dreams, with recordings of visual soup of people’s memories and swirls of sunsets. I imagined that here would be the path toward the afterlife. It was like a planetarium of liquid dreams. There were blue glass rooms surrounding all this.

I imagined that above these levels would be a round table of trees who were Irish speaking, that their core was made of scrolls of Irish Gaelic sacred texts, and that the end of the world and the gateway to heaven was through their wisdom, and that they were the ones responsible for determining your place in the next realm. I came to this idea because “aoibhinn” means “delightful” in Irish and it rhymes with “even,” where the worlds become “even” and a portal. I also imagined that it was the opposite of where Eve came in to cause the fall of man from the Garden of Eden, and that on this level you could return to paradise. Above this level, was pure knowledge, which comes with a price, disability.

To sum up, I generally wasn’t sure if I’d live, die, go to heaven, purgatory, hell, be trapped in a cocoon under the ground by demons, transform into a shrunken red elf boy (my skin was red and I lost 40 lbs) an bunny or a dog (I was very hairy and boney), an armless angel (I had paralysis), an orb of light trapped in a fairy fort, that I was on a spaceship being taken to another galaxy and would be trapped in a coffin for 200 years, die with pieces of my body left on earth with the rest of me in another realm, or ever be myself again. But here I am!

#psychosis #manic bipolar #mentalhospital #mentalstrength #dreamworld #actuallypsychotic #drive to survive #mental institution

[kiindergoth]

( @sir-canuck )

[Call from: Ike]

The ringtone set for Ike’s contact rang and filled the pitch black bedroom with noise. Firkle’s phone buzzed and skittered across his mattress before it was smothered with one of the many pillows making up the goth’s nest. It was allowed to ring until it sent the Canadian to the automated voicemail system.

[ Call sent to Voicemail ]

[ Missed Call: Ike ]

Stuck in the limbo between being half awake and half asleep, the goth curled up and blearily blinked. It didn’t matter what time it was, it was impossible to tell anyways with his blacked out curtains.

Like a zombie’s limb rising from the dirt in a horror movie, his hand slowly emerged from the covers to snag his phone and pull it into the blanket cocoon. The sudden LED of his screen blinded him, earning a childish groan. Rubbing at his face with his palm, he managed to start a call to Ike, put it on speaker, and sink back into his plush coffin. The repetitive, dull ringing was a lullaby to the sleepy teen. Heavy lids lowered more with each ring.

[ Call Incoming: Georgie ]

#intracranial 🗡 ic #knight in shining armour 🗡 ike (sir canuck) #calls

[goldenheartedfox]

@forgettingxenvies​

Crawling on the ground, he is a target, a plaything to the energy all around him, but he cannot die, not yet, not when Wen Chao still live. They whisper to his ear, you want revenge, tempt him, coo at him, hurt him, try to make him one of them.

Up until they grow quiet, and for a moment, Wei Wuxian feels fear. What is this sudden pressure in the air, that it is making all the other ghosts, corpses and entities flee from the area?

Resentful energy spikes, a visible tornado that envelops him, yet can it truly be called resentful? There is danger in it, power, yet it is... calmer. Then glowing red eyes meet his own, and he knows.

And when the tornado dispel, Wei Wuxian stands, letting his pendant slip inside his robes to be hidden by them, a contented hum leaving him at the feel against his chest, and twirls Chenqing. It isn’t the further they could have gone, but it will be enough. There are still a lot they can hope to do.

Silver eyes glint with red, his expression growing stormy, and the resentful entities of Burial Mounds shudder with the want to reply to the call for blood in their Master.

In this time period, Wen Chao still live.

And so, a hunter leave the Burial Mounds for his prey, whistling and humming as ghosts follow in his path.

He estimates it has been a month or so since Wen Chao has thrown him in Burial Mounds, and it means he doesn’t know where he is, not yet. But he listens to the grief, the anger, that the Wen have caused, and follow the trail.

Like last time, Supervision Offices are left with the Wen being found already dead. However, this time, while their wide eyes of death show terror, and the remains of resentful energy give a clue, all of them seem to have been simply too terrified and their heart have given out.

But Wen Chao... Wei Wuxian still make Wang Lingjiao die as she did the first time, and sends her corpse as one of the ones nipping at Wen Chao and Wen Zhului feet. Wei Wuxian still make him hurt himself, still send ghost haunt his dreams into nightmares.

And in a twist of fate, just like last time, Wei Wuxian can sense Lan Zhan and Jiang Cheng observing as he takes the last steps of the stairs and come forward to face Wen Zhuliu.

“Do you truly think you can protect him from me, Wen Zhuliu?” His voice comes out soft, his smile almost serene, but his red eyes glint with cold anger, with hate. “When you have already failed?”

The man eyes widen, and he whirls around, but indeed, it is too late. Vines of resentful energy have coiled all around Wen Chao, creating a cocoon, a coffin, and the blood dripping into the ground only hint as that it has done to the second heir.

But if there’s blood falling, Wen Chao is not yet dead, and Wen Zhuliu swiftly move to attack Wei Wuxian, hoping to crush his core, to damage him so his control waver.

Wei Wuxian doesn’t move, senses the ozone when Zidian unwraps, and his heart skip a beat as a familiar white back stands in front of him. His throat works to swallow, his eyes blinking back the tears, and he gathers himself before Wen Zhuliu drops dead on the floor, and both men turn to him.

Silver meets gold, and Wei Wuxian can’t help the way his gaze cannot leave Lan Zhan’s one, the way he can read the emotions there, up until he senses a happy cry and grabs the sword Jiang Cheng has send his way.

Master!

Wei Wuxian smiles softly as he glances down as Suibian, feeling his sorrow for the lost hope of being wielded again, and his happiness that, at least, they can interact. He can feel Chenqing and Yinling greet Suibian, as he directs his attention again to the two men.

Being under these eyes again after years without him, Wei Wuxian cannot find words, not until Lan Zhan speaks to him.

#forgettingxenvies #Muse: WWX #blood tw #(I hope you like it!) #(WWX was less cruel but at the same time much more terrifying?) #(imagine just literally scaring everyone to death) #(without even touching their bodies) #(although for Wen Chao he just) #(cannot do less than last time) #(and that's pretty much an iron maiden WWX made as this so called cocoon)

[nejitenforlife]

NejiTen Month 2020

Day 12 - Pirate AU (Part 3)

So... this’ll now be a 4 part AU. I tried really hard to keep it to 3, but it proved too long. And yet, I could have made it longer still, if I wasn’t writing it for Nejiten month. Ah well, I hope you enjoy today’s part!

Word Count: 2,924

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Tenten felt another shudder wrack through her body as she watched the captain disappear from sight. She hoped she was wrong, but in her gut Tenten knew she wasn’t.

Her fiancé had found her.

It didn’t matter how, but she knew it was him. Every fibre in her being knew he had come for her, and he wouldn’t stop until he found her.

Hidan was a vicious man, one who had been close to her father for many years. She had known her father was violent—had taken the brunt of that violence more than once herself—but she had never believed he would do something as cruel as give her to Hidan. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing—kind and generous to the public, but violent and cruel behind closed doors.

Tenten knew from the day her father promised her to Hidan that she would have to run, to get as far away from him as possible. She thought she had time—time to gather clothes, money and food, enough to get herself to safety. She had thought wrong.

The evening she fled, Tenten’s father informed her that Hidan would be arriving the next day and their nuptials would be held the day after. The words had sickened her to the core, and Tenten knew if she didn’t leave straight away, she would be nailing her own coffin. As soon as she left her father’s study, Tenten had fled. She ran and run until she made it to the docks, finding a lone ship that she knew would take her away from her cruel fiancé.  

She should have known she couldn’t escape him, though. Hidan always got what he wanted, and for some twisted reason, he wanted her. But he wouldn’t get her. Tenten would kill herself before she let him take her.

Tenten stumbled when a cannon hit the ship, disturbing the freak-out she was in the middle of. She shook her head, determined to rid herself of her cowardly thoughts. She wasn’t going to die today. She would find some way to get out of this cell where she was trapped and find a better place to hide. She would find a weapon and defend herself, and she would kill him if he came near her.

Another cannon hit the ship, so close that Tenten screamed, falling to the floor from the force of the rocking ship. Wood splintered and light flooded in from outside only a few inches from her position. Tenten eyed the gaping hole the cannon had made before turning to look where it landed.

She gasped at her good fortune; the cannon had knocked her cell door from its hinges, allowing her the opportunity to escape.

Doubt made her pause for a moment. What if the crew mistook her for one of the naval officers and struck her down? What if they were already on board, looking for her?

She shook her head again. This was no time to be thinking negatively. She needed to keep her head on straight. She wasn’t safe here; trapped in this room with no escape route. She needed a better place to hide, somewhere Hidan wouldn’t be able to find her.

After another brief pep talk to herself, Tenten got to her feet and crept towards the front of her cell. She knew it was risky going above deck with all the fighting going on, but she didn’t have a choice. Taking a deep breath, Tenten made her way slowly up the stairs, the sound of battle getting louder the more she ascended.

The sight that she was greeted with stole her breath and she fought the sudden urge to vomit on the wooden deck. Tenten was used to violence, but not on this scale. All around her, pirates and sailors fought against each other, their cutlasses clanging loudly despite the creaking wood and shouted insults that filled the air. Blood soaked the deck, and Tenten could see more than a few people lying unmoving, their bodies soaked with a deep crimson.

As she eyed the gruesome scene with horror, Tenten was suddenly glad she hadn’t yet eaten. She knew she should not be siding with either party, but a small part of her cheered the pirates on, hoping they won against their foes. Tenten refused to even think about what would happen to her if they lost.

Tenten shook her head and pried her eyes away from the fighting. This was no time to be distracted. She needed to find somewhere to hide—but where? She could try and make it to the storeroom again, find a dark nook and keep hidden. If given enough time, she could move crates and barrels around to form a protective cocoon around her, a barrier big enough to hide her in.

With the decision made, Tenten made her way in the direction she hoped the storeroom was. She couldn’t exactly remember, since she had passed out after emerging from the darkened room. She kept low, not wanting to draw attention to herself, and tried to stick to the outside of the ship. Tenten knew she wouldn’t be completely invisible, but she hoped that no one would pay attention to her with all the fighting going on.

“If it isn’t my fiancée,” a voice called from behind her. “I had a feeling I’d find you here, with these worthless bastards.”

Tenten froze at the sound of Hidan’s voice, her whole body locking up as her fight or flight instincts struggled for dominance. But she could do neither—there was nowhere to flee, and she had not yet found a weapon with which to fight. She had been found, and now she would pay for fleeing from her intended.

“Imagine my surprise when I arrived on your island to hear you were nowhere to be found.” His voice was conversational, as though they were back in her living room, sitting down for morning tea. But Tenten could hear the steel underneath. He was furious, and he would make her regret her actions.

“You’re a long way from home, my dear,” he continued. “Fortunately, I have come to take you back.”

Slowly, Tenten turned around to face her fiancé. She wanted to scream at him, to wail and rage, but she knew it would be futile. The more she did to provoke him, the worse her punishment would be.

“I’m not going back with you,” she replied, grateful her voice sounded stronger than she felt. She glared at him, balling her hands into fists by her side to stop them from shaking. “I would rather die than go back with you.”

A slow, sadistic smirk graced his lips and Tenten’s stomach roiled the sight. “That is unfortunate to hear, my dear. But I can arrange that for you, if that is your wish.”

Tenten had thought to argue with him a little longer, so that he would let down his guard enough that she could run. She hadn’t expected to agree to her death wish so quickly—or eagerly—and she could only stand there, locked in place with nowhere to go, as he slowly stalked towards her.

.

.

.

What the hell is she doing up here? Neji thought to himself, anger burning in his chest at the sight of his captive sneaking along the deck. She had escaped her prison cell and was risking her neck up here, where the battle was raging. Could she truly be that foolish?

But even as his mind told him to move closer to her, to make sure she was protected from the enemy, Neji noticed a figure following her. Panic had his heart rate spiking and he quickly dispatched the opponent he was fighting in order to follow them.

As he crept closer, Neji couldn’t help but notice the rigid way she held herself, or that she was shaking like a leaf, despite the warm sea breeze. And then he saw her face, and her features stopped him cold. Pure, unadulterated fear held her in place as she looked at the man who had finally cornered her. She was terrified of this stranger, and Neji wondered if this was the reason she hadn’t wanted them to engage in battle in the first place.

“What business do you have with my prisoner?” he asked, ensuring his voice carried over the sounds of fighting surrounding them.

The naval officer turned at the sound of his voice, his lips lifting into a sneer at the sight of Neji. “I could get you all hanged for stealing my fiancée and keeping her prisoner on your ship. Thankfully, I would much rather cut you down here than wait for justice to be served.”

Fiancée? Neji’s captive was this person’s fiancée? If that were the case, why did she look so scared of him? Was he the reason she had stowed away on his ship?

Neji didn’t know all the details, but he didn’t need to. This man would not be going anywhere near his captive, not when she was so clearly terrified of him. He must be a bad man, if she would rather hide away on a pirate’s ship than be near him.

“I am afraid that will not be happening,” Neji replied casually, lifting his cutlass in front of him. “You will not be making it off my ship alive.”

.

.

.

Tenten backed away as the two men came together, the sound of steel against steel ringing in the air. Hidan was furious, she knew, but more surprising was the look on the captain’s face. Neji’s features were set in a hard line, and he refused to give Hidan an inch, no matter how viciously her fiancé fought.

The navy ship was still firing canons, much to Tenten’s surprise. She would think, with comrades on board, they would be more careful, but they continued to fire their cannons despite the risk to their men. With each hit, she felt the ship shake and she had to grip the side to keep herself steady.

Watching the men in front of her, Tenten silently rooted for her pirate captain. Out of the two of them, Tenten knew he was the better person. He had shown her kindness and she couldn’t help but be attracted to the intelligence he possessed, which had taken her by surprise. She hadn’t expected him to be so smart, but he surprised her with the various topics he not only brought up during his visits, but with his knowledge of those topics as well. And he had shown her a wit she had not expected to see, despite his almost sour-like demeanour. Even though he was a pirate, Tenten had come to realize he was a good man. A much better man than Hidan, that was for sure.

The men were fighting still, throwing taunts and jabs at each other with each swing of their blade. The battle, too, continued to rage on, with no end in sight, and Tenten wondered if this was how all skirmishes at sea were like. Would they continue to battle until neither side had anyone left? Would she be the only one standing at the end of it? Or would she too perish this day?

No sooner had she thought the last question, than a canon hit the side of the pirate ship, so violently that she was thrown overboard. Her eyes widened and she tried to grapple for a handle on the side of the ship, but her fingers couldn’t find purchase, and she fell to the icy sea below.

.

.

.

Neji shouted in alarm, knowing he would be too late to go to her rescue. The blast of the canon rocked the ship, and only his years of being on a ship helped him stay balanced. His eyes had automatically found her, a feeling of dread overtaking him as he watched her stumble and fall over the side of his ship, unable to save herself.

Being as distracted as he was, he almost missed his opponent lunge for him, and only barely managed to block the attack. The blade grazed his arm instead of his chest, but even the sharp bite of pain couldn’t stop the pounding of his heart. He needed to rescue her, but he couldn’t step away from this fight.

“You’re looking a little pale there, captain,” his opponent said, almost cheerfully. “Am I to guess that my dear fiancée found her way to the fishes?” He shot a quick glance over his shoulder before turning back to him with a smirk. “A shame. I was looking forward to killing her.”

Neji’s blood boiled at his words and he charged forward to attack. “You would kill your own fiancée?” he spat, the steel of his sword glancing off his opponent’s.

“I would have kept her for a time, first. I deserve my husbandly dues, am I not? But yes, ultimately both her and her father would be seeing my blade.”

He spoke so casually, as if killing an innocent woman was not a heinous crime. Neji understood a little more why his captive had been so afraid of him. “Too bad, you will never get the chance.” he sneered.

Neji worked fast, knowing that each second he wasted here was another second his captive was in danger of drowning. And that was something he would not allow to happen. He advanced aggressively, using all the years of training to push his opponent back despite his attempts to defend himself. Neji swung wide and his opponent blocked, much as Neji had anticipated. He pulled a dagger from his belt and plunged it through the man’s heart, ending his life more swiftly than Neji would have preferred.

“Captain,” Lee ran up to him, breathless from the fight. His eyes were bright, the battle energizing him, and he looked from his captain to the man who had just been dispatched.

“Lee, tell the crew to finish up and tie whoever is left alive up on their boat.”

“Aye, Captain.” His first mate gave him a confused look when Neji handed him his sword. “What are you doing?”

“Make sure someone is standing nearby to haul me back onto my ship,” he said, ignoring the look of surprise on Lee’s face. “I have a damsel in distress to rescue.”

The water was cold, much colder than he was anticipating, and Neji feared that he may have taken too long. That he may be too late. The water was clear, though, despite being churned up by the rocking of the ships, and Neji was able to see below the surface relatively well. He couldn’t see her, and he feared the thought that she had been crushed by the weight of the ship.

“Over here!” a very feminine voice yelled, laced with panic.

Neji spun in the water and saw a figure waving at him from a distance. Relief flowed through him at the sight of her, and he used his powerful arms to swim towards her. “Are you injured?” he asked. She was treading water, but Neji could tell she was tiring easily, and he used his arm to draw her close to him. If she asked, he would say it was to conserve her energy, but that would be a lie. He wanted to be close to her right now, to make sure that she was okay.

“I’m fine. A little terrified, but fine.” She tried to give him a smile, but it was strained. “What happened to Hidan? Is he…?”

“I take it that was your fiancé’s name? You do not need to fear him anymore. He is dead.”

She let out a long breath and he felt her sag against him at the knowledge. “I know it’s a horrible thing to say about a person, but I’m glad. I think if you had told me he was on deck waiting, I would have taken my chances with the sharks.”

Neji longed to know the details of why Hidan made her so scared, but first he needed to see to her safety. Holding her around the waist with one arm, Neji started swimming back to the ship, where he knew someone would be waiting for them.

“I believe you owe me your name now,” he said, trying to keep his voice light.

She turned to face him with raised eyebrows, and Neji noticed that her lips were already starting to turn blue. “Oh? And why is that?”

“You have had a bath, courtesy of the ocean.”

Tenten laughed, a beautiful amused sound that Neji realized he liked very much. “That doesn’t count, and you know it,”

“Then, for killing your fiancé.” Surely, he deserved much more than her name, but Neji wouldn’t be greedy. Her name would be gold in itself, with how much he had been longing to learn it.

“I suppose you deserve that, at the very least.” She turned to face him again and he stopped paddling forward, his breath caught in his throat as he awaited her words. “My name is Tenten. Tenten Mitashi.”

Her family name rang a bell, but in that moment Neji couldn’t care less as to why. He knew he would think about it later, but for now, all that mattered was her. He finally knew her name, a name that seemed to suit her perfectly. A name as pretty as the owner.

Neji resumed swimming towards the ship, repeatedly playing her name in his mind.

#NejitenMonth2020 #Nejiten fanfiction #Day 12