#but it never occurred to me that the color was indigo!

[tigressaofkanjis]

Transformers: Lost World - All 16 Meadow Transformers

See post for information here

Color Schemes: Normal colors will be present and switch between both types regularly with a 50-50 chance of spawning with a Transformer every in-game day with Regal spawns being slightly less odds but very possible to encounter. Rare and Legendary colors can only be unlocked after talking to Shockwave about the rifts plaguing the land once the Universal Nexus is activated. From then on, both wild and outbreaks of Transformers will have a chance of being all four types. 

Color Schemes may seem similar in sequence or by name, but they are different shades, and the order of colors also marks their prominence. (Main Color, Secondary Color, Extra Details, and Extra Details), (Main Color, Secondary Color, and Extra Details), or (Main Color and Secondary/Extra Details). On some occasions, the first color isn’t technically the overall if there’s an even amount of color space in which case all colors will be main or a main and two secondaries. Most color schemes do not include protoform limb colors nor faceplates.

When you befriend a Transformer in the wild, they will not spawn again once you have them at your base. However, after the Universal Nexus is activated, not only do outbreaks occur to get multiple of the same Transformer but cosmic clones baring any color scheme available for that particular Transformer will appear in the wild spawn locations of the original (even if you never befriended the Transformer at all giving you more odds). If you release a Transformer before activating the Universal Nexus, they will spawn back in the wild in their area and allow you to hunt for a different color available in Normal and Regal formats. 

Take note: Universal molds (G1, TFA, TFP, etc) do not spawn in the wild, only through outbreaks. Colors indicated do not always count protoform color. Bio lights vary. 

Patterns: Depending on the Transformer also varies on pattern. From animal-like prints to simplistic car patterns, fades, and cutoffs, you could possibly find a Transformer with a unique color scheme and a beautiful pattern to boot. (Me adding flare to the game because I find it odd a lot of Transformers have Basic patterning. I would think an advanced cybernetic species would invest in some good designs *tattoos* ahem. And it doesn’t cover their whole body usually, just parts of it.) 

Vehicons (Miner) – Can be seen in Basic, Tiger and Saddled Patterns. 

Normal Colors: Charoite (Purple, Black, and Deep Grey with Red Lights), Tuxedo (Black and White with Red Lights) 

Regal Colors: Amethyst (Indigo, Gray, and Silver with Red Lights), Cherry Swirl (Crimson and Magenta with White Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Deep Grey, Red, and Yellow with Yellow Lights; Striped Hyena), Shattered Glass (Sea Blue, Black, and White with Light Blue Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Space Cadet (Dark Blue, Teal, and White with Blue Lights), Golden Sheep (Black and Gold with Yellow Lights) 

2. Autotroopers (Gatherer) - Can be seen in Basic, Leopard and Tobiano Patterns. 

Normal Colors: Monochrome (White, Black, and Grey with Blue Lights), Star Sapphire (Slate Gray and Deep Blue with Blue Lights) 

Regal Colors: Snowflake (Frost White and Baby Blue with Light Blue Lights), White Lotus (White, Green and Mint with Light Green Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Light Gray, Black, and White with Blue Lights; Labrador), Shattered Glass (Deep Grey, White, and Light Purple with Red Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Winterdance (Light Blue, Cerulean, and White with Teal Lights), Cockatiel (Cream, White, and Red with Orange Lights) 

3. Jazz (Scout) – Can be seen in Basic, Narrow Sports Striped and Narrow Racing Striped Patterns. 

Normal Colors: Seaboard (White, Cool Black, and Navy Blue with Blue Lights), Chromite (Silver and Gray with Blue Lights) 

Regal Colors: Magical Betta (White, Blue, and Maroon with Blue Lights), Faded Dusk (Light Gray, Deep Blue and Orange with Orange Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Silver, White and Deep Blue with Blue Lights; Lynx), Shattered Glass (Black, Grey, Gold, and Light Orange with Red Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Molten (Neon Red and Neon Orange with Yellow Lights), Freeway (Silver, Black and Gold with Blue Lights) 

4. Cliffjumper (Miner) - Can be seen in Basic, Saddled and Triangular Patterns. 

Normal Colors: Candy Apple (Crimson and Silver with Blue Lights), Crimson Tide (Crimson, Burgundy, and Dark Red with Blue Lights) 

Regal Colors: Warlord (Silver, Deep Grey, Black, and Crimson with White Lights), Blood Moon (Black and Crimson with Red Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Deep Red, Copper, and Silver; Wildebeest), Shattered Glass (Purple, Black, and Silver) 

Legendary Colors: Plague Crystal (Violet, Purple, and Dark Purple), Roughrider (Yellow, Brown, and Green with Yellow Lights) 

5. Barricade (Infiltrator) - Can be seen in Basic, Checkered and Wide Single Striped Patterns. 

Normal Colors: Tuxedo (Black and White with Red Lights), Star Sapphire (Slate Gray and Deep Blue with Red Lights) 

Regal Colors: Starry Night (Black, Indigo, and Copper with Purple Lights), Moonlit Ocean (Dark Blue, Black and White with Red Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Black, Grey, and Purple with Red Lights; Wolverine), Shattered Glass (White, Black, and Blue with Green Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Interrogator (White, Yellow, and Blue with Blue Lights), Pursuit (Lavender, Black, and Gold with Purple Lights) 

6. Knockout (Healer) - Can be seen in Basic, Tribal and Narrow Racing Striped Patterns. 

Normal Colors: Rose Bouquet (Red, Magenta, and Yellow with Red Lights), Cherry Swirl (Crimson and Magenta with Red Lights) 

Regal Colors: Gothic Luxury (Black, Gold, and Crimson with Red Lights), Medic (Red and White with Red Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Crimson, Cerulean, and Gold with Red Lights; Peacock), Shattered Glass (Blue, White, Black, and Gold with Blue Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Radioactive (Vivid Green, Purple and Pink with Pink Lights), Tango Lily (Tangerine, Burgundy, and Violet with Red Lights) 

7. Moonracer (Infiltrator) - Can be seen in Basic, Triangular and Hexagonal Patterns. 

Normal Colors: Mint Vanilla (Mint, Teal, and Cream with Blue Lights), Grassland (Light Green, Mint, and Amber with Yellow Lights) 

Regal Colors: Variscite Bracelet (Gold, Green, and Mint with Blue Lights), Turquoise (Teal and Mint with Blue Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Cream, Mint, and Gold with Green Lights; Belgian Horse), Shattered Glass (Dark Blue, Black, and Crimson with Red Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Arctic Glow (White, Aqua, and Mint with Teal Lights), Mermaid (Light Purple, Cream, and Teal with Light Purple Lights) 

8. Hot Rod (Miner) - Can be seen in Basic, Flames and Chevron Patterns. 

Normal Colors: Firestarter (Burgundy, Orange, and Yellow with Blue Lights), Sunset (Red, Gold, and Orange with Blue Lights) 

Regal Colors: Obsidian Sun (Black, Orange, and Deep Copper with Orange Lights), Tiger’s Eye (Orange, Black, and Crimson with Blue Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Yellow, Red, and Gold with Orange Lights; Lion), Shattered Glass (Black, Silver, and Purple with Red Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Blue Ghost (Blue, Teal, and Light Orange with Orange Lights), Fusion Flame (Black, Crimson, and Gold with Red Lights) 

9. Tailgate (Miner) - Can be seen in Basic, Tobiano and Hexagonal Patterns 

Normal Colors: Waves (White and Cerulean with Blue Lights), Energon (White, Blue, and Teal with Blue Lights) 

Regal Colors: Glass Marbles (White, Red, Blue, and Black with Blue Lights), Blue Sky (Cerulean, Baby Blue, and White with Yellow Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Blue, White, and Dark Blue with Blue Lights; Adelie Penguin), Shattered Glass (Gold, Deep Blue, and White with Red Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Flare Cap (Light Yellow, Light Red, and Black with Blue Lights), Akebi Fruit (Lavender and White with Light Blue Lights) 

10. Sideswipe (Scout) - Can be seen in Basix, Saddled and Mackerel Patterns 

Normal Colors: Harlequin (Red, Black, and White with Blue Lights), Chromite (Silver and Gray with Blue Lights) 

Regal Colors: Smelting Rock (Amber, Black, and Grey with Orange Lights), Sumi-e (White, Black, and Red with Blue Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Crimson, Amber, Black, and Yellow with Red Lights; King Cobra), Shattered Glass (Teal, Deep Grey, and Silver with Red Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Sunrise (Yellow, Cerulean, and Tangerine with Blue Lights), Desert Storm (Tan, Windsor Tan, and Cream with Yellow Lights) 

11. Sunstreaker (Gatherer) - Can be seen in Basic, Saddled and Wide Double Striped Patterns 

Normal Colors: Yellow Jacket (Yellow and Black with Blue Lights), Coreopsis (Yellow, Deep Gray, and Red) 

Regal Colors: Aspen Forest (Grey, Dark Grey, White, and Yellow with Yellow Lights), Sand (Gold and Tan with Blue Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Gold, Yellow, Black, and Grey with Blue Lights; Goanna), Shattered Glass (Black, Burgundy, and Gold with Red Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Prototype (White, Black, and Burgundy with Red Lights), Machination (Yellow, Cerulean, and Pink with Red Lights) 

12. Heatwave (Healer) - Can be found with Basic, Narrow Double Striped and Cheetah Patterns 

Normal Colors: Fire Hydrant (Red, Yellow, and Grey with Blue Lights), Harlequin (Red, Black, and White with Blue Lights) 

Regal Colors: Cinnabar Dolomite (White, Maroon, and Deep Grey with Blue Lights), Auburn Anthem (Crimson and Copper with Blue Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (White, Red, Black, and Yellow with Yellow Lights; Dalmatian), Shattered Glass (Black, Dark Blue, Red, and White with Red Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Firebot (Neon Yellow, Crimson, and White with Blue Lights), Reverse Deployer (Indigo, Tangerine, and Dark Slate with Red Lights) 

13. Chase (Gatherer) - Can be found in Basic, Chevron and Tobiano Patterns 

Normal Colors: Mosaic (Dark Blue, White, and Yellow with Blue Lights), Seaboard (White, Cool Black, and Navy Blue with Light Blue Lights) 

Regal Colors: Blue Sky (Cerulean, Baby Blue, and White with Blue Lights), Prime Sherbert (Red, Blue, and Yellow with Orange Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Navy Blue, Baby Blue and White with Yellow Lights; Kangaroo), Shattered Glass (Camo Green, Green, and Silver with Red Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Electronic (Black, White, and Yellow with Blue Lights), Rescue Dino (Navy Blue, Light Teal, and Silver with Blue Lights) 

14. Bumblebee (Scout) - Can be found in Basic, Wide Single Striped and Narrow Double Striped Patterns 

Normal Colors: Yellow Jacket (Yellow and Black with Blue Lights), Black Swan (Black, Deep Grey, and Gold with Dark Blue Lights) 

Regal Colors: Oriole (Orange, Amber, and Black with Blue Lights), Super Seven (Gold, Purple, and Maroon with Purple Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Gold, Black, and Baby Blue with Blue Lights; Honeybee), Shattered Glass (Silver and Purple with Red Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Terrorcon (Black, Purple, Mint, and Slate with Purple Lights), Sonic Blue (Baby Blue, Dark Blue, and Silver with White Lights) 

15. Perceptor (Infiltrator) - Can be found in Basic, Hexagonal and Saddled Patterns 

Normal Colors: Harlequin (Red, Black, and White with Blue Lights), Ruby Glass (Red, Light Teal, and Black with Blue Lights) 

Regal Colors: Ornament (Red, Silver, and Gold with Blue Lights), Wildfire (Amber, Red, and Dark Grey with Yellow Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Light Gray, Red, and Black with Blue Lights; Red-Tailed Hawk), Shattered Glass (Black and Red with Red Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Retro Style (Mute Blue, Red, and White with White Lights), Minicon (Blue, Orange, Baby Blue and Yellow with Blue Lights) 

16. Shockwave (Infiltrator) - Can be found in Basic, Chevron, and Ocelot Patterns 

Normal Colors: Charoite (Purple, Black, and Deep Grey with Red Lights), Purple Dawn (Purple, Lavender, and Grey with Yellow Lights) 

Regal Colors: Masquerade (Vivid Purple, Neon Green, and Dark Grey with Yellow Lights), Ominous (Teal, Black, and Silver with Red Lights) 

Rare Colors: Beast (Purple, Black, and Pink with Pink Lights; Spinosaurus), Shattered Glass (Gold, Silver, Blue, and Yellow with Blue Lights) 

Legendary Colors: Senator (White, Teal, and Green with Blue Lights), Origin (Cerulean, Crimson, and White with Blue Lights) 

It took me a week to plan the Normal and Regal color schemes for all 200 Transformers. Since both categories can have repetitive colors, I had to carefully place same colors in Normal (Canon) slots that matched the description of the Transformer and use them for Regal (Non-Canon/Extra Color Schemes) that seemed to work for the others. You have no idea how painful it was to do. Now that the hard part is over, it's just going through the list for Rare (Beast and Shattered Glass) and Legendary (Rare Toys/Exclusives) colors which shouldn't take long for me to do though scrolling through all the toy lines for unique color schemes is draining.

Please note Legendary skins are chosen by how rare or how meaningful the color is to the character. Some characters have multiple good toys with unique color schemes but I can't always put every one of them, so I have to choose what appears to be the best. I scroll through all character pages of every universe and choose my contenders mind you, so it can get very hard on what is chosen in the end.

Color Schemes are also simplified to ensure cleaner display. Notice how colors can be a bit vague. It's sometimes very had to pinpoint specific colors so the top few most prominent on the character are noted, especially for Legendary skins where I go for uniqueness and individuality compared to the Normal and Regal skins.

#transformers lost world #farm sim #video games #cozy sim #transformers g1 #transformers animated #transformers prime #vehicons #autotroopers #jazz #cliffjumper #hot rod #rodimus prime #barricade #heatwave #chase #sideswipe #sunstreaker #bumblebee #moonracer #knockout #tailgate #shockwave #perceptor

[astrolaurical]

dude have u listened to closer from indigo by rm. its such a twin flame song about connecting only on the astral realm.

I got that vibe for a split second because of all the mentions of dreams, but then upon my 2nd listen I was like nah actually this is about a relationship that was hella toxic. Good thing they broke up bc it sounds like that ex just played games with him.

He couldn’t keep a grip on his manipulative ex (“wanna lock you up in my sight, but you run away like a fish”- nj wants a committed relationship but his ex is too busy playing mind games/ being fwb/ partying/ being deceitful, etc). He doesn’t want to wake up from sleep aka his rose colored glasses as he chooses to ignore all of these red flags.

The only reason he stayed was because the sex was amazing, which good for him. Get that good good. He needed a stress reliever but sounds like his ex gave him even more stress. (“I get a feeling sometimes that I can’t get close enough to you. I feel it most in the nighttime even though that’s when I’m closest to you”- even with the sex, which is supposed to be the most intimate and vulnerable act between two people, he feels like there are barriers and walls up between them. That’s how he knew that that wasn’t his true love. Remember in my twin flame post where I mentioned his romantic astrological placements? Sex is CRUCIAL to him- he bares his soul, so he was DEVASTATED when it wasn’t reciprocated. He mentions that in the lyrics of Change pt 2 where he says “you can’t love someone like I do. That’s all i can say to you.”

I reallyyyy hope him and his twin flame find each other. Some twins don’t find each other until they are in their old age after both have completed the intense physical/mental/emotional/mental healing work that is necessary to wipe away generations of societal/ancestral/familial/past life trauma and karma.

This is his 3rd mixtape/album where he has had an ENTIRE SONG DEDICATED TO FEELING LONELY. He yearns for his true love so much 😭😭😭 Like he has his friends, members, and family but I understand the hollowness in your heart of wanting to find YOUR forever person. Before I began my TF journey, I could never understand why I could never be in love with any of my partners, only lust or only liking certain aspects of the person, never loving the person entirely and unconditionally. It’s because they weren’t MY TRUE LOVE. Namjoon’s SOUL is looking for that other SOUL that sings his same song and that loves him unconditionally, as he will in return. I just don’t think his head realizes that yet, so he continues to be in these bad relationships as he searches for these qualities.

I think he maybe even unconsciously places idealized qualities that he wants his partners to have onto them, like a creating a mask, making him disappointed when they can’t achieve these qualities they don’t have. (Sound familiar? That’s what a lot of fans do in these parasocial relationships where they say that BTS are the LOML and then absolutely devastated when they discover their idol is dating or koreaboos when they date an Asian person because oPpA speaks Korean just like JungKook, the same attribute as the loml has 🤩)

I sincerely hope Namjoon finds his true love, and soon. He deserves a happy life full of domestic bliss and children, should he wish to have them.

I will try to make a master list just dedicated to NJ TF stuff but can only create master lists on my laptop which is ancient. Thank you all for being so patient. A LOT of unexpected things have occurred in my life, but a bittersweet silver lining has kind of appeared that will give me more time. My mental health is not good at all right now and has not been for a long while, but with my newfound time, I will try to find my joy for writing again which will hopefully lead to updating and posting my many neglected drafts.

#namjoon #rm #twin flame #bts analysis #namjoon future spouse #namjoon soulmate #namjoon ideal type #kim namjoon #indigo #closer #namjoon twin flame #namjoon analysis #ask #namjoon theory #bts theory #namjoon boyfriend #namjoon astrology #bts Namjoon #bts rm #twin flames #bts future spouse #bts astrology #bts tarot #bts fs #bts twin flames

[plantgoodseed]

We are in the business of life! Our 2023 seed production in Ojai, California.

Spring never really got going here in Ojai, and as I write these words summer is nearly here. Between the heavier winter rains (this a 45 inch - and counting - rain year) and weeks of overcast days, moon cycles have been an afterthought.

The plants keep growing through the fog, rain, and cloudy weather. Kendall harvested our Fizz Kale plants two weeks ago, making this our first seed crop of the year. Fizz is a salad kale, with smooth, oak shaped emerald colored leaves and white veins. It was the very first lot of seed we logged for the company back in 2011, and was definitely in need of improvement. We focused on one thing: culling out early bolting plants, prolonging the usefulness and flavor of the leaves as they mature. (Given this kale is harvested young as a micro green, it’s unsurprising this might have been not a priority, as harvest would typically occur long before any chance of flowering occurs) 

Up next is our largest production of Cherry Glow Breadseed Poppy. We did smaller runs of these in 2017 (me) and 2022 (Richard Gambino/Topa Vista Farmstand). The last few of Richard’s packets are still available, along with a bulk size. 

(We also have a new variety we are adding: Flemish Peony Poppy. I first spotted this on Cacia Huff’s Feral Farm instagram feed, and she sent me some seed stock)

We planted 10 pounds of Chimyan Garlic last fall, and harvesting was completed earlier in the month. Hardnecks aren’t always suitable for Southern California climates, but these bulbs look promising, and a quality planting stock would allow us to make this available to our customers in 2024.

New crops of Double White Hollyhock and Krishna Holy Basil are currently in the ground. Krishna seems to be the most temperature sensitive of the holy basils I’ve ever worked with. It really didn’t like this cold, and needs a really long production window for harvest. When it gets established, it’s a sight to be soon. Rama Holy Basil seedlings are also ready to go in, Heavy Hitter Okra seedlings are at the nursery, and I think our first Ojai production of Zanadoo Corn is on the way as well. Another round of Hibiscus was necessary, as we are packing the last of our current seed supply today, and it will likely be gone before the summer is up.

New crops of Silk Mullein, Dense Flowered Mullein, Clary Sage, and Marshmallow are well on their way to producing. Stinging Nettle and Scarlet Bee Balm will likely just increase our planting stock and not be available for sale this year.

After adding Double Black Hollyhock and Madder to the catalog in this past year, and feeling a little inspired by the work of Ride and Dye Ojai, I’ve been wanting to further expand the availability of our dye plants: Japanese Indigo (Persicaria tinctoria) seemed like an easy place to start and is now in production. I also had two other proper Indigo species “True” Indigo (Indigofera tinctoria) - or Guatemalan Indigo (Indigofera suffruticosa) we sent to the nursery, but the germination was too scanty to move forward. Next year!

Steve put a lot of flowers in the ground in this past fall-winter so it’s possible that a lot more will be coming than planned, or just refreshing/replenishing existing stalks. I’m pretty happy to see a new crop of Gaillardia coming on. I’m spying some mixed yarrow and bachelor buttons and a lot of silvery rose strawflower.

I’m continuing to work with my Southern California natives / rugged perennial crops. I planted a lot more Western Vervain this year, and new crops of Black, Purple, and White Sages are nearly ready. I continue to have problems with harvesting quality Hummingbird Sage seed, but after taking a year to experiment with harvesting and timing methods, I’ll give it another go. This is the first year I’ve worked with Cleveland Sage, and it’s looking spectacular.

Elderberry and Matilija Poppy will likely be back in the catalog too. These are quite easy to propagate clonally (root divisions or just straight up branch plantings), but it seems people enjoy the challenge of starting things from seed.

Our network of producers has grown substantially over this past year, and we intend on highlighting their crop production for the company in another blog post later in the year!

-quin

#plantgoodseed #ojai #businessoflife #heirloomseeds #seedsaving

[uva-academy-vio]

💭-tell me of dreams

oh look, a strange man in an alolan shirt

[tw abuse mention. apollo's in this one woahh !! also the title is a reference to the percy jackson musical. not sorry]

"Hey kiddo, you okay?"

A man with pink and teal hair extends his arm to Vio, who's opening his eyes slowly. He's lying on the ground.

"I...I don't know."

He sits up, his vision coming into focus. The man's face was covered in what seemed to be scars, yet they were the color of the night sky, with small stars and all. One of which pierced through the area around his eye, giving his iris a unique indigo coloration.

"..Ch-champion Furesawa..?"

The eyes of the Alolan champion suddenly widen, but return to as they were before.

"Please, just call me Apollo. Is..is something wrong?"

"No..It's nothing. Nothing at all."

Vio grasps Apollo's hand, slowly standing up.

"Y'know you can't lie to me, kid. It's not healthy."

"How did you-"

"Dude, I've been there."

Both Vio and Apollo turn to look at what was in the distance. A blue-ish purple ocean, surrounding the shore they were standing on.

"Ch- Apollo. Do you know where we are?"

"No idea. It's not Alola, if you were wondering."

Vio sighs.

"Okay. This is kinda coming out of nowhere, but you essentially ruined my life."

Apollo quickly turns around to the ghost whisperer, flabbergasted by what he just heard.

"I-Wh-Kiddo?? I'm sorry. But, it'd make more sense if you elaborated."

"Oh. Yeah. Well,"

Vio says as he sits down on the sand, gesturing to the Alolan champion to sit with him,

"My older sibling was OBSESSED with becoming a champion. They probably still are. But the day you becoming champion was announced on TV, my sibling got so mad that they couldn't do it first. And in order to get over their anger, they, uh. Proceeded to make my life a living hell by beating the shit out of me."

Apollo looks at the boy, realizing that he, himself, was important. It never truly occurred to him before, but wow.

"Kid, you.. that must've been horrible."

"..Yeah."

"You, uh, never told me your name before."

"Crap, sorry. I'm um. Alberich. Vio Alberich."

"I'm sorry, Vio."

"It's not really your fault."

"Hmm. So. What're we gonna do now?"

"No idea."

He says, as the duo of champions stare at the sea once more.

#vio.txt #ask game #rotomblr #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #real pokemon #pkmn irl

[puutterings]

unbleached cotton, a caution to the rest

        But one morning after school had called and all seemed quiet, a shocking circumstance occurred. Betty Briley came in dressed in indigo-blue, with short skirt and nankeen pantalettes.       She made a great contrast between the back-wood girls in their long, scant skirts. The larger boys drew down their heads behind their slates and snickered; and Nat and Towhead put their heads close together and whispered, very low: but it broke the rules of the school. The teacher’s back was turned, too, but she heard all the same; and the way she jerked those little urchins off their seats into the middle of the room was a caution to the rest. She demanded an explanation of what they were saying; but they were so frightened that they could not have told if they would, and would not if they could.       For punishment she thrust them down on a seat between some little girls — and one was Better Briley. It seemed a terrible disgrace. A flogging with those hickory wisps would not have seemed half so bad. It proved to be one of those never-to-be-forgotten lessons learned in the first days of school.       The excitement soon died away, and it was not long before every girl in the country went into pantalettes. John Brown had many a puttering job dipping short lengths of unbleached cotton in his vats, after hides were taken out. Tan bark made durable nankeen color, and was thought to be cheaper.       The circuit preacher came around every four weeks to hold meeting in the new schoolhouse, instead of in the deacon’s barn, which seemed more sanctimonious. For his dedication sermon he took for his text; “And a little child shall lead them,” and Nat wondered if it could be that the teacher meant Betty Briley; but he noticed that he did not say anything about pantalettes.

—

ex Permelia Corey Thomson (whose name appears not on title page, but in prefatory note), her How the Coreys Went West : Fifty Years in Crossing the Continent (Press of Frye & Smith, San Diego, Cal., 1908) : 78-79 (78) : link (Harvard copy) same (but University of California; Bancroft Library copy) via hathitrust : link the latter bears presentation inscription : “For dear Miss Scripps in memory of Mother. / Estelle Thomson, Adelle Thomson / 1917.”

in chapter 24 “Bound for the Land of Sunshine,” Rufus Corey late in life takes his family out to “the bay region of San Diego county in Southern California, and they settled on a ranch in one of the valleys, in an adobe house shaded by a great pepper tree...” near the border with Mexico.  

re: Estelle and Adelle Thomson, came across this letter to the editor of The Desert Magazine 2:12 (October 1939) :

                        Hollenbeck Home,                         Los Angeles, California Dear Mr. Henderson:       We had never seen a copy of “Desert Magazine” unti three weeks ago — then a friend found one of February 1939 in a wastepaper truck — and brought it to us. We polished it and found it a jewel.       In addition to being 93 and blind I have a broken bone and live in a wheelchair. My sister who is 84 takes care of me. She has not time to read . . . So we have five readers, who read such books as Longstreth’s “Laurentians,” all by Shackleton, “Land of Little Rain,” Mary Austin, etc. With our books we have traveled almost all civilized lands and some uncivilized. You may imagine how the “Desert” appealed to us.       We found one current “Desert” issue, August, visited nearly every second hand magazine shop in Los Angeles and finally were rewarded with December 1937, July ’38 and May ’39. For some we paid fifty cents a copy. They were worth it! But we exhausted the supply.       Fifty years ago I roamed over much of the wild land around San Diego and Tiajuana for Philadelphia “Times” and “Press.”       My sister retired after 30 years as head cashier at Hotel del Coronado, with the advent of automobiles, coached thousands of guests (El Centro bound) as to the “jump” of sidewinders. Estelle Thomson. by Adelle Thomson.

(followed by a letter from Barry M. Goldwater !)

link (pdf) via mindat.org : link

—

from search : "puttering" inauthor:corey : link  

#1908 #Permelia Corey Thomson #short skirt and nankeen pantalettes #indigo

[notalisonyet]

Sirens wail
History fails
Rose-colored glass begins to age and crack
While the politicians shadowbox the power ring
In an endless split decision—never solve anything

. . .

If the world is night
Shine my life like a light

—“Let it Be Me,” The Indigo Girls

That was 1992, and though the song wasn’t specifically about gun violence, those lyrics might as well be today.

We can’t give up trying to change laws to rein in the anarchy of gun mania, but we shouldn’t imagine it will happen any time soon.

Meanwhile, mass shooters typically show signs of going the wrong direction before the event occurs, and if people notice the signs, then intervention is possible.

I don’t know how much violence can be prevented by the changes we make person-to-person, and by being better as individuals, but it seems to be all we have.

#gun violence #gun control #let it be me #Indigo Girls #song lyrics #changing laws #changing ourselves #do what you can #political helplessness

[dandelion-head]

While looking into sashiko, I inadvertently came across shibori, an ancient Japanese method of resist dyeing, usually with indigo.

And it looked really familiar.

Oh!

Ohhhhh!

#I always figured the pattern was resist dye #based on a batik-dyed shirt I owned when I first played #tsutsugaki is also likely #but it never occurred to me that the color was indigo! #legend of zelda #wind waker #link #fabrics

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Beovaim

Pairings: Din Djarin x ghost!reader

Summary: Din stops on a planet for supplies, unknowing it is the night of one of this culture's most revered holidays, Beovaim, the one night of the solar cycle that spirits can return to the Living World.

Warnings: Smut, phasmophilia (sex with ghosts, reader is a ghost, you do the do), public sex? (they do it in the woods but nobody is around), touch starved Din and reader

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: I know how weird this sounds but I started writing it for Halloween when it would have made much more sense. Just bear with me on this one y'all!

Masterlist

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This planet was new to Din - small and forested and on the outskirts of the galaxy. Really, it was barely a planet due to the size, someplace that Din had never even considered visiting before but he was currently between bounties and needed to stock up on rations and medical supplies before he got himself into any serious trouble. He had set the Razor Crest down in a clearing in the woods and set up camp. By the time he had landed on this planet though, the sun had already set, the bright blue sky turning to a deep indigo, lit by the two moons and a freckling of stars that were visible between the tall trees.

Din set up a fire outside of the Razor Crest and sat beside it. Although he planned to sleep inside for safety's sake, it felt good to stretch his legs and breathe natural air. The air was cold and crisp, even through his helmet, but the heat from the fire made it bearable. The trees surrounding the clearing were changing colors, an array of every shade of green, brown, orange, red, and yellow spattering the branches and littering the ground. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire, the wind rustling the dried leaves, and the bugs chirping in the woods.

It was peaceful here, Din thought as his gaze got lost in the dancing flames. This was a nice break from the routine of catching bounties, though he'd be right back on it tomorrow when the shops in the nearest town opened. For now, he could relax by the fire and stare up at the stars.

Little did Din know, he did not arrive on a normal night. And, because of this special night, he was not alone.

You walked through the woods, your bare feet crunching in the leaves. It was calming and peaceful yet completely exciting. Gosh, how you missed being alive.

Death had claimed you long ago. How long ago, though, you had forgotten. Every solar cycle, you looked forward to Beovaim, the one night of the year spirits could return to the realm of the living and visit their ancestors. For many years, though, you had had nobody to visit in the Living World. You had died young, before you had the chance to bear your own children. Half of your family passed on with you, the other half moved off planet in a hurry and hadn't returned to visit for years, even on Beovaim. Those who left the planet were probably so far removed from your culture’s customs that it likely didn’t even occur to them what tonight was or even who you were. Instead of gathering with loved ones like the other spirits, you found yourself on a solitary drift through the woods you loved so much in life.

A fog began to roll in, hazing the sight of the trees and turning the village down the street into a blur of lights obscured by white mist. You followed the trail, reveling in the feeling of your feet against the dirt. It had been an entire solar cycle since you felt anything physical and it did not take long for you to mourn the privilege of feeling that you took for granted in life.

Off in the distance, something caught your attention. Down the trail, through the fog, the outline of a small spaceship was visible, illuminated by a bonfire beside it. That’s odd, you thought, this was one of the most important nights of the solar cycle. It is sacred and people spend it with their families in their homes. In all your years, you’d never seen someone not partake in the observations.

**

Din’s ears perked up at the sound of crunching leaves. His head shot up and he looked around to find the source of the noise. “Who’s there?” He asked, the modulation hiding any fear in his voice. The fog affected his vision but he saw straight ahead your outline except it was… white? Din’s brows furrowed, wondering what was wrong with his helmet’s thermal vision. The outline in the fog was clearly the silhouette of a human, presumably a woman based on the shape, but instead of being a mosaic of yellows, oranges, and reds, it was pure white.

A beautiful woman stepped through the fog into his vision. It was you, standing there barefoot in a long brown skirt and cream colored peasant top, held up by a navy bodice. “I’m sorry to scare you,” you started, your voice soft and reassuring, “I was just going for a walk and I saw your camp.”

Din’s body relaxed, not sensing any real danger within you so far, though still on guard in case there was an error in his initial assessment. “Oh,” he offered weakly, unsure of how to respond. He analyzed you curiously, noticing an odd etherealness about you. For one, you were beautiful, almost other-worldly so. Your skin glowed and your soft smile glimmered. Despite your beauty, there was something unsettling and eerie about you.

You approached the fire timidly. “May I join you?” You asked weakly. It was embarrassing asking a stranger if you could crash their bonfire but this was your one night in the Living World for a long time and you did not want to waste yet another year by yourself. Besides, you were dead. Did it matter what people thought of you?

“Um, sure,” Din allowed, watching as you sat on the ground a few feet away from him. Your eyes slowly drifted closed as you let the fire heat your skin. From this distance, you could feel the heat waves move across your skin almost like the flames flickered and licked at the air.

“Thank you,” you said with your eyes still closed, leaning back and revelling in the heat.

The bounty hunter didn’t take his eyes off you and his heart nearly stopped when he noticed your skin become almost translucent. He swore that, for a split second, he could see through your body but just as soon as he had noticed it, you had become solid again.

“It’s been so long since I’ve felt fire,” you commented in pure bliss, confusing Din with your statement. This planet was fairly cold and he imagined it got even colder. Not to mention that food needed cooking.

“What do you mean?” Din took the bait, looking over at you.

You cocked your head towards him, finally opening your eyes to look at him with as much confusion as he looked at you with. “You’re not from here, are you?”

Din’s helmet shook from side to side. You shrugged and rolled your eyes at yourself, “I should have known. We don’t get Mandalorians on this planet. I just figured that maybe you had come in the last year but you’re just visiting?”

“I need supplies. I was going to go into town tomorrow,” Din answered plainly, noticing your translucence yet again.

“Nobody will be open tomorrow,” you informed him patiently, “It’s a holiday.”

Din sighed in frustration. It wasn’t that this planet was bad, per se, he just preferred to be on the move. But he needed supplies and he knew he didn’t have enough fuel to get to the next planet. Reluctantly, he sank further into his spot on the ground, resigning to the new fact that his stay would be extended one day more. “What holiday?” Din inquired, figuring that if he would be stuck here and you were right there, might as well take advantage of having someone to talk to.

Contrary to the front he put up, Din didn’t dislike people. He distrusted them. There’s a difference. But with you… you were odd. Your mystic beauty had Din captivated from the moment he laid his eyes on you yet that put him on guard. Din needed to be in control and there were too many variables about you that he didn’t know.

Your eyes slid shut once again, only for a moment, while you said, “Beovaim. Have you heard of it?”

Beneath his helmet, Din was switching the settings of his sights, growing more and more confused with each lens he tried. Even now as you sat beside the fire, your outline was still white, not even registering as a temperature on the scale but the fire beside you glowed hot in a vibrant display of colors that reassured Din that the hardware of his sights were not broken. He switched over to night vision and there you sat, right where you were in the material world, but your outline was hazy, sometimes disappearing before reappearing again. “Can’t say I have,” Din replied, keeping the conversation going while his eyes narrowed beneath his helmet.

You shifted in your seat and brought your hands out to the fire, the flames licking your skin without consequence. “Well,” you began, “When we die, the energy that makes us who are - beyond our physical bodies - must go somewhere. We call that somewhere the Spirit World. Every solar cycle, on this night, the planets align just right and it thins the energetic barrier that separates the Spirit World from the Living World. The spirits of the dead can walk freely among the living. Beovaim is a two day celebration. Day one, which is today, people spend all day setting out pictures and bringing offerings for their departed loved ones who, in the night, may come and visit them. When the sun rises, though, we must leave and those who are still living spend the day together with those they love to be grateful for people they have in the Living World.”

Din’s head jerked towards you as one key word stuck out like a crack of lightning, “‘We?’”

You hugged your knees to your chest and got lost in the flame before turning your head towards Din, chewing your lip, “I’m sorry, this must be scary for you. On our planet, seeing the dead on Beovaim is normal, delighted even. I’ve never spoken with an outsider on Beovaim.”

Din swallowed hard, noticing that your skin became pearlescent and opaque the close it got to the fire now that he had cleared the tactical filters from his vision. He shifted from his relaxed lean against a log to sitting up straight as he stared right at you. “You’re dead?” He asked bluntly.

You nodded, shyly recoiling slightly, “Yeah…yeah I am.” You had never imagined explaining this situation to an outsider before but you would have never imagined it would be so awkward. You could tell this new information freaked the Mandalorian out at the very least, even if you couldn’t see his face. It was all in the way his shoulders tensed and his voice became terse. It was an odd response to you but you supposed you could understand it if people came from different planets. Maybe they didn’t think of death the same way your planet did.

“Are you okay?” You asked, scooting closer to the Mandalorian and gently placing your hand on his gloved one.

He flinched back, surprised to feel that your hand was solid against his. You jumped, pulling back as well at his sudden movement, “I’m sorry!”

It took a second but Din spoke, “No, no, I’m sorry,” he began, “I just wasn’t expecting to be able to actually touch you.”

Your cheeks burned, wondering if he had thought about touching you at all but then quickly chided your thoughts, knowing it was just years of loneliness that were perverting your thoughts. You cocked your head a little and your brows furrowed, “You didn’t think you could touch me?”

“My helmet, it has heat vision and you’re, well, you’re not registering as having any temperature signature. And then in night mode, your outline disappears and reappears,” he explained, not doing well at hiding how flustered he suddenly became.

A smirk cracked your face, “So then you’ve known?”

Din’s helmet shook, “Not really, no. I mean, I could see you weren’t normal. I didn’t know how, though.”

“Well, now you know.” You giggled. After a moment of silence, the Mandalorian’s helmet was still firmly staring in your direction. “Do you want to touch me again?” You offered, not intending the offer to sound as sexual as it came off but not backtracking your honest statement.

Din hesitated, watching as your form seemed to flicker, even in the normal visual mode he was now looking at you through, but that was what made him nod. “Is that okay?” He asked, feeling invasive at the idea of asking to touch you.

You chuckled, “I’m the one who offered. Here…” You sat up on your knees and turned towards Din, lifting your hand with your palm facing him. The shadows that were cast across the beskar shifted with the light from the flames as the Mandalorian inched closer, extending his hand. The movement was slow and cautious and, though you couldn’t see it, his eyes kept darting between your hand and your face, afraid that you’d disappear and that this would be some strange dream.

Din exhaled heavily when his hand finally made contact with your skin, your fingers just barely touching before he closed the gap, gingerly pressing his palm to yours.

“See, still here,” you smiled. Din’s heart was beating out of his chest. It had been so long since he had shared a gentle touch with someone, he almost forgot what it was like. You too shared the notion. Years of being alone, watching the people you had known in life slowly die as well or move away, fading away into memory, made you mourn for real touch again. You tried to pretend like his touch had no effect on you - you didn’t have a fancy helmet to hide your expressions.

“I’m sorry if this is an inappropriate question but are you… cold?” Din asked cautiously, waiting for the moment you’d recoil in offense but you just let out a breathy laugh.

“Am I cold?” You repeated the question with a giggle.

Din was confused, “Is that a dumb question?”

It wasn’t dumb, you’d heard legends from spirits in the Spirit World that their cultures regarded ghosts much differently than yours did. You shook your head, “No, we just don’t grow up with those stories here.” You glanced down and noticed he was wearing gloves, “Why don’t you take those off and see for yourself?”

The Mandalorian was taken off guard at the thought. Could he dare? The Creed said he couldn’t remove his helmet but said nothing about gloves, right? He retracted his hand from yours just long enough to pull the glove from his hand. You watched in excitement as a small part of this mysterious man was slowly revealed to you. A large tan hand was slowly exposed, long fingers coming into view that were surprisingly clean and soft looking despite this man being a Mandalorian. They sure didn’t look like the hands of one of the galaxy’s fiercest warriors. Maybe it was years of wearing those gloves that kept them in good condition but the skin looked smooth, with only a few small calluses on the upper part of his palm.

You held your breath as his fingers reached towards you again, with just as much nerve if not more than the first time. A small gasp left your lips when his bare skin touched yours. He was warm and soft in the most pleasantly surprising way.

Din was shocked that you were warm. You were actually warm like a living person, at least until your hand became translucent for a moment and in that brief moment it was as if you had no temperature at all - like when you can’t feel the warmth or coolness from the air around you. It was like your skin was exactly the same temperature as his own, so much so that while he could feel your hand, he felt no temperature at all. But then, just as quickly as it had become translucent and warmthless, your hand became solid and warm again.

“So what about you?” You asked softly, “Do you always wear that thing?”

Din knew exactly what you were referring to as the question seemed to come up wherever he went. He nodded, “This is the way.”

Your brows furrowed. You’d heard of Mandalorians being the greatest warriors in the galaxy but, back when you were alive, it was still a newer culture. You hadn’t gotten the chance to learn much more about it. “Wearing a helmet?”

He nodded, “It’s part of the Creed. If another living being sees a Mandalorian’s face, they cannot put the helmet back on.”

You hummed in understanding and shrugged, “Sounds like it would get hot.”

Your flippant response to his Creed surprised Din. Usually people would try to take it off of him or insult him but you just accepted it with little push-back at all. “Can I at least know your name?”

Din thought for a moment, ever hesitant about revealing his name because of his line of work but the more he thought, the more he figured that it wasn’t much of a threat. If what you said were true, you were only in the Living World until the suns rose. Besides, it might be nice to hear someone say his name again, to be called something other than Mando. “Din. Din Djarin.”

A warm smile spread on your face as you tested the name, “Din Djarin… fits you. I think.” You told him your name and he too repeated to ensure he was pronouncing it correctly.

“Pretty name,” he complimented shortly but you looked away shyly for just a moment regardless. It had been a long time since you talked to anyone let alone been complimented.

“Thank you,” you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. It was then that you realized that you and Din were still still touching hands, your fingers now interlocked loosely and resting on the space where your knees almost touched each other’s. Flames heated the moment that was already heavy with tension, the moon shining off one side of Din’s helmet while the other side glowed orange, reflecting the flames. “It’s not the same in the Spirit World. It’s been forever since I touched someone,” you admitted, drawing attention to your hands, “Really felt another person.”

It sounded more sensual than you meant it to but, then again, maybe you did want it to be sensual. The small gesture of this man’s hand in your own sparked a hunger in you that you hadn’t felt for decades.

“Me too,” Din glanced down at your hands intertwined and he ran his thumb over your soft knuckles, revelling in the rises and falls of the bones there. The light touches felt more electrifying for both of you than any other contact in a long time.

It felt like the two of you got closer and closer, pulled together by an invisible force until your chests were nearly touching. “I wish I could see your face,” You whispered honestly. It was not an attempt to cross his boundaries or make him feel pressured to break his Creed, just an honest declaration of interest and desire.

“I can’t show another living being. This is the Way,” he repeated regretfully. This is why he had avoided intimacy for so long. The helmet was a major hindrance in intimate situations.

You swallowed hard as a realization came to you and you uttered gently, “I’m not alive.”

Din’s eyes widened beneath his helmet as he realized you were right. He pondered for a moment if this would be a valid loophole. He had shown a droid his face once because it was not alive. You had once been alive though. Was that enough to mean he would be breaking the Creed? But then again, the most beautiful woman he had seen in ages was sitting in front of him, holding his hand, eyes just as desperate as his own, and she was no longer a living human.

“You don’t have to show me, Din. I don’t want to pressure you, I just-”

“Okay.”

You stopped talking in surprise as his hands moved up to his helmet and shakily removed it. You held your breath as he slowly revealed his face. He was nothing like what you had imagined but he still had a unique handsomeness to him. His dark hair was messily tousled from his helmet, some of it sticking up and some of it plastered to his tan skin. His eyes were equally as dark and, while you imagined they would be terrifying if he were to look at you with anger, he looked at you with what almost looked like fear.

Din was terrified. It was the first time anyone had seen his face since he was a child. Obviously, much had changed since then and he had no idea how his appearance really measured up to other people. The helmet took away most of that insecurity because nobody could see his face anyways but now he found those insecurities brought right up to the surface.

“Wow…” You breathed out with starry eyes.

Din swallowed hard and gave an uncomfortable half smile, the kind that you do when you have no idea how to react to an awkward situation. “You’re really handsome,” you told him, the latter half of the sentence coming out in an awkward chuckle.

Another request came into your mind, one that you felt so odd asking, but the desire was burning and you hadn’t had an opportunity like this since you were still in the Living World. “Can I kiss you?” You asked, eyes flicking down to his thin lips before back to his eyes.

Yet again, Din found himself shaking. He had never kissed anyone before. He had had sex a few times but it was always more of a mechanical release than anything intimate. For safety, he refused to make any other sexual setting dark enough for them to not see his face because then he couldn’t see them and he didn’t trust that.

He leaned in slowly, heart beating out of his chest as the space between your lips closed. Finally, they touched. Both of your eyes had slid closed, revelling only in the feeling of this contact you were both so starved of. It was a soft, tender kiss, experimental and inexperienced.

After a moment, you pulled apart and rested your foreheads on each other, your noses still touching. It didn’t take long for that primal desperation to take over and soon your lips were pressed together again, each kiss longer, deeper, rougher than the last. You pulled your skirt up and straddled his lap, the beskar warm against your skin from being heated by the fire. Din’s hands found your waist. Your fingers tangled in his hair and pulled him in closer to you.

Your hips rolled instinctively but you flinched when your thigh was pinched by the beskar plate that covered his thigh. Din noticed the small squeak of shock you let out and stopped immediately, concerned he hurt you somehow. “Are you okay?”

You looked down and moved your skirt to see the edge of the armor before nodding, “Y-yeah, it just pinched me is all. I’m not used to really, well, feeling anymore.” You gave a small laugh and Din glanced down at his armor and then back to the beautiful woman in his arms.

“If you want to while you can, I can help you feel a lot more,” Din tested with sensitive confidence. It was always so much easier to be confident with his armor on but now that you could see his face, he felt so much more vulnerable, like everything he said or did could be wrong.

If you had blood in your veins, it would have gone ice cold at his bold offer but you wanted nothing more than to take him up on it. “Please,” you whispered desperately.

Din glanced around, noticing the two of you were still outside and that he could see the village from here. “Should we go inside the ship?”

You followed his gaze towards the village and shrugged, “People and spirits tend to stay in the village on Beovaim. There’s not much of a reason to come all the way out here. Nobody should see us but we can go inside if you’d prefer.”

“If no one will see us, I think I like feeling the fire on my face. If that’s okay with you, of course.” You smiled, enjoying seeing him truly appreciating this moment. You pressed your lips to his yet again and rolled your body against his before pulling back and deftly untying your bodice. Din took the opportunity to take off his armor and remove the top half of his flight suit. You shrugged the bodice loose from your body and pulled your shirt off as well, your breasts free and nipples hard from the exposure. You slipped out of your skirt as well, feeling odd only wearing a floor length skirt.

Din drank in the sight of you in nothing but your underwear, revelling in the fact that he finally got to see someone without the interference of the helmet. “Mesh’la…” he sighed out.

“What?” You asked, slowly sliding your arms up to cover your breasts, his bilingual wording making you nervous that maybe he didn’t like what he saw.

He reached forward and gently held your wrists, pulling them away from your chest as he stared at your breasts with nothing but adoration before looking back up to you, “You’re beautiful.” His lips crashed against your fervently and he carefully pressed you back into the pile of clothes you had made, your discarded skirt acting as a buffer between your back and the forest floor.

His large hands grazed your body with feather light touches, like he was afraid that if he touched you any harder, he’d break you. It made goosebumps break out across your skin and your nipples hardened even more. A jolt of pleasure went through your chest as his fingertips finally brushed over your buds and you inhaled deeply in pleasure, your breasts now gently brushing against Din’s bare chest.

Your fingers gripped Din’s shoulders before you raked your nails ever so gently across his biceps and down his sides, not hard enough to leave red streaks but just enough to leave his body shivering, aching for more of the contact he was so desperate for. Your touch slid up and down, each time travelling just a bit lower until they made contact with his waistband. At this, you hesitated. It had been so long since you’d touched anyone, you almost worried you didn’t remember how but after an experimental brush over the growing bulge in his pants earned a small sound of pleasure from Din, you decided to silence your insecurities.

You bypassed the waistband of his pants and gently ran your fingertips along his long shaft. Din’s body shivered on top of you and he placed his mouth on your breasts as an attempt to silence his desperate moans. The more he sucked and nibbled, the fast you stroked him. You ran up and around his tip when his hips bucked and his teeth dug hard into your breast, earning a shocked gasp but broken into a quivering moan.

His free hand that wasn’t supporting his weight reached down and grabbed your wrist to get you to stop touching him, “I want to be inside you.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

The two of you finished shedding your clothing and Din lied on his back, his bare hands revelling in every square inch of your delicious thighs as you placed a knee on either side of his hips. Carefully, you lowered yourself, feeling every inch of him fill you like a virgin. It had been so long since you’d felt anything, much less this. Din moaned in unison, eyes screwing shut along with yours as both of you focused all of your energy on this long forgotten feeling of such a touch, gently sensual but electric. Blood burned in your veins and your hands felt fiery against Din’s warm skin.

Slowly at first, you began to lift your hips, trying to rediscover a rhythm that had long since been lost to you. Your movements were cautious and a little sloppy, afraid of hurting Din more than yourself. You adjusted slightly, swivelling your hips to take him deeper when his length rubbed across a spot inside you that made your nails dig into Din’s taut skin and you let out a high pitched moan.

You set your pace, ensuring that he rubbed against that sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. Din’s hands gripped your hips tightly, more than happy to let you set your pace but letting you know that he wanted you more than anything. His calloused hand slid up your side before landing on your breasts, kneading them and rolling each bud between his fingers. Your head fell back in ecstasy and Din opened his eyes for just a moment to see your face become almost translucent again in the fire, a subtle reminder of your state. His heart stopped for only a moment when he saw it, still not familiar with such a phenomenon but when your walls tightened around him, he was reminded all too clearly of just how real you were - real and riding him, seeing him, making him feel more alive than he had in a long time.

Din's neck strained and his abs tightened under your palms. "Stars…" you moaned out, the ecstasy building in your core but it was beginning to falter as your thighs ached. Din noticed the stutter in your movements and drifted his hands back down to your hips, using them to help lift your body. He looked like a demigod, something ethereal, as his arms flexed and his muscles bulged. A sweat began to bead on his brow and he set a desperate pace.

You were seeing stars. Between the delicious way Din stretched your walls and the rhythmic friction of your clit against his pelvis, your body was crumbling to pieces. “I’m so close,” you whined out, eyes screwed shut.

“Almost there-” Din bounced your body harder on his hips, chasing his own release.

It was too much for you though. There was no way you’d make it much longer at this pace. “I don’t think I can wait!” You called out, toes already curling as you just began to teeter over the precipice of your orgasm.

“Then cum for me,” Din demanded. His low husky voice was all it took to push you over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure rocked your body. You let out a loud high moan as your walls spasmed around Din’s length. He let out strangled groans as each squeeze brought him closer to his release.

Your body began to burn with overstimulation as Din’s length still rubbed against all those sensitive parts inside you. Small yelps left your lips as waves of pleasure turned to shocks of intensity that bordered on pain. With a broken moan and one final hard thrust up into you, Din came, spilling his seed deep inside of you. Finally, he slowed to a stop.

You pressed one hand against his chest and the other on the ground, needing whatever support you could to keep yourself from collapsing. The both of you panted, desperate for air. Despite the cool air, both of your skins were glistening with sweat in the fire light. Din began to soften inside of you and once you felt your legs finally regain some rigidity, you carefully lifted your body off of his. You slid his length out of you with a wince and you rolled onto the ground beside him. Din was quick to lay his arm down beneath your head as a pillow and he pulled your body closer into him.

The two of you laid in silence, just taking in the feeling of being with someone else, truly and fully, a long forgotten occasion for either of you. Din’s eyes slid closed, comfort overtaking his body. There was nobody outside aside from you. For once, he felt no reason to be afraid of someone seeing without his helmet outside.

Just as his muscles began to melt into the ground, the warmth that was once where your body was pressed against his faded away into the coolness of the surrounding air. The weight that had just been resting on his bicep disappeared. Din’s eyes shot open and he jumped, looking over to you only to see you were gone. There was no trace of your presence. Your body, your clothes, everything had vanished as if they were never there.

Din looked around confused and called out your name before seeing the earliest shades of daylight peeking through the tree. Beovaim was over and with it, his only chance at feeling that connection of locking eyes with someone and seeing his own reflection back in their orbs. With a sad sigh, Din reached for his clothes and began to redress himself before others in the village began to wake and risk seeing him.

Beneath his armor, his skin burned with the memory of your touch and his heart fell at the thought of not seeing you again. You were the first and only person to see his face since he took the Creed and Din had forgotten how to see and be seen by without the helmet shielding him.

As he stood up and popped on his last pieces of armor, he stared down at the ground and sighed, resigning himself to the reality that all he had now was the ghost of your ghost.

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[faulty-writes]

A scenario where Tamaki's been trying to confess to his crush for literal MONTHS but just can't ever get it out. Since his voice doesn't work around reader he decides to write a letter, penning down his innermost passions and it ends up being REALLY long with flowery Helga Pataki-esque descriptions of his feelings. But he ends up EATING the paper to prevent reader from seeing it when yn almost sees it. Later that dayduring training, his quirk manifest forces him to say everything he wrote aloud.

[ Finally your girl posts something after forever. Sorry guys! Life has been a bit crazy, I got obsessed with a couple role play groups, and of course, school. But, I’ll try to be better with my blog. I hope you all enjoy this Tamaki piece, thank you for the request dear anon! I thought this idea was a very unique take on Tamaki’s quirk. ] 

There you go again. His eyes locked on your every move as you walked through the hallway, your friends by your side, and you were laughing and smiling. Making his heart accelerate and his cheeks flush as always. It was true, Tamaki Amajiki. One of the members that made up The Big Three, had fallen for you. Unfortunately, despite trying to confess to you countless times. 

It did no good. Honestly, he didn’t know what he was thinking. He’d always be nervous when he approached you, cheeks red, and that stutter of his present. Even when he did finally manage to speak, he’d find his tongue felt like it was swollen, then he’d get more embarrassed and panic. Despite the fact, you would always ask him what’s wrong or if he needed help. 

The fact is, he was nothing but a coward. He’d turn and run which didn’t help much with his confidence considering he knew that you probably thought he was some kind of a freak. But, he had to tell you how he felt. He couldn’t stand the idea of seeing you with someone else which might sound selfish. He knew it was selfish but, he didn’t care. He wanted you all to himself and for once, maybe he deserved what he wanted. 

But, he didn’t know how to tell you. How could he reveal his feelings to you without looking silly or fearing rejection? There was only one person he thought of asking, “Well!” Nejire’s voice was as bright and cheery as ever as they sat outside a cafe. Nejire had insisted because they had good lattes and Tamaki was never one to argue. 

She smiled as she reached over to place her hand over his, the warmth and comfort from that gentle touch put him at ease for the moment. But, still, he needed an answer on what to do and eagerly waited to hear what Nejire had to say. “If you ask me, nothing says I love you more than the words of a love letter!” Tamaki’s expression completely dropped, his eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed.

“W-What?” he questioned, he could already feel his stomach twist. That nauseous feeling of butterflies beginning to bother him, his cheeks grew unusually hot and he shook his head. “I c-can’t d-do that!” he stuttered out as his free hand tightened around the styrofoam cup he held. Nejire looked at him with a cross expression. 

“They don’t have to know who it’s from silly!” she half scolded, “Besides maybe it’ll help you sort out what you really want to say to them!” she suggested with a bright smile that made Tamaki groan in response. “I c-can’t! T-That’s so e-embarrassing and w-what if t-they find out the l-letter was f-from me!? W-What am I s-supposed to do?! W-What am I supposed t-to say?” he questioned and Nejire shook her head before slowly getting up from her seat. 

“Well duh!” she said before reaching over to lightly knock on Tamaki’s head, something that caught his attention but also made him flinch. He leaned back with a present frown on his face, “D-Duh what?” he asked, growing a little scared as she leaned over. He didn’t exactly like that smile on her face. “Then you have nothing left to hide,” she concluded as she reached up to boop his nose which made him wiggle it in response. 

He then looked down, nervous eyes shifting back and forth, “I...I d-don’t know,” he said which had Nejire sighing and she placed her hands on her hips. “Just start with the love letter and see where it goes from there, you may not believe it Amajiki, but you’re pretty brave when you’re determined,” she said before patting his shoulder. “Don’t forget that,” she said, smiling yet again before she walked away. 

Leaving him sitting there alone, his body hunched over the table as a gentle breeze came to ruffle his hair. Should he try to write you a love letter? Sure it sounded easy, but what if he got nervous and ended up writing the wrong thing? Was there a right or wrong way to write something as personal as a love letter? Your feelings across paper? Well, he supposed it wouldn’t hurt to try.

So he purchased a notebook and pen and began to get to work, at first he found it rather difficult. His words were sloppy and lacking the meaningful nature he wanted them to. But, on occasion, this would change. Especially when he saw you in the hallway or in class, he couldn’t help but feel a rush of inspiration and would always write the words that screamed from his heart when he was near your presence. 

He often rewrote the confessions he had, longing for them to be perfect. He was almost finished with what he believed to be the perfect love letter and though he was still unsure how he’d give it to you. He was currently sitting in the library, body hunched over the table as he neared the end of his letter. All that was left were those three big words, the words he was too shy to speak. 

But, the ones that he longed to scream from the top of his lungs, the ones that could only be used to summarize how he felt about you. His pen continued to glide across the lined paper, prepared to write ‘I love you’ before he jumped. You had noticed Tamaki around and while you knew he was a member of The Big Three, you had never actually had a full conversation with him. 

Though you had class together and on occasion, you got the chance to fight side by side with him. He was amazing and you admired him for the heroism he showed, it was almost silly to think he was the same shy boy you saw roaming through the halls. You had always wanted to try and become friends with him, given you knew from past experience he tended to stutter and honestly couldn’t hold up a conversation. 

Still, you were determined to try. Of course, you hadn’t expected him to jump when you spotted him in the library and decided to walk over. You noticed he was writing something and couldn’t help but try and sneak a peek at it, looked pretty serious. You blinked before lowering your mouth to his adorable elf-like ear. “Hi Amajiki-san!” the cry that left his mouth ended up scaring you and without thinking. 

You stumbled back and watched as his head turned, those precious indigo-colored eyes wide and fearful and his cheeks dusted over a faint red. “Y-Y/n!?” he exclaimed before pulling the notebook to his chest, fingers securely grasping it. Hiding the written evidence of his feelings for you, despite you having no knowledge of his feelings for you in the first place or how he was trying to convey them through written words. 

You did, however, know he was hiding something and couldn’t help but smirk. “Hm?” you raised your hand, pointing a finger at the notebook. “What are you trying to hide there, Amajiki-san?” you questioned as you took a step closer, reaching out to grab his upper arm. You tugged on his sleeve and Tamaki let out a soft whine. “N-Nothing! I-It’s nothing!” he stuttered out, feeling his stomach twist into knots. 

He hoped he wouldn’t get nauseous, you were so close. You were touching him! “Oh? If it’s nothing then why are you hiding it?” you questioned in a teasing manner as you took a firmer grip and yanked his arm away. “Show me, I’m curious! Is it a project? Essay?!” the questions left your mouth in an excited manner. “I-It’s not uh, h-hey!” you had reached over and snatched the notebook away. 

“Oh boo, let me at least proofread it for you,” Tamaki’s stomach flipped upside down and his hand was clutching his chest, twisting the fabric of the signature red tie of his school uniform. He couldn't let you read it! He’d die! But there you were, holding his notebook with his dedicated words of love scribbled across it. “Now then,” you turned your attention to the notebook, about to read the first line just as the sound of a chair falling came. 

You jumped and turned to look but before you could react you felt a strong hand around your wrist. “Amajiki-san!” you exclaimed, prepared to activate your quirk or at least find your way out of his grip. But then, another noise echoed through the air. Your attention shifted back to the notebook and your jaw dropped as you realized he had ripped out the single page you were trying to read.

“Amajiki!” you scolded again, “S-Sorry! B-But you c-can’t see t-this!” he said as he proceeded to crumble the paper into a ball. You looked at him bewildered as he then shoved said ball into his mouth. “Uh…” was the only sound that managed to come out of your mouth as you watched him chew and proceed to swallow the paper. You blinked, lowering the notebook. 

Jaw hanging open in absolute awe at what you had just witnessed. Tamaki on the other hand had an itchy throat, and when the crumbled paper reached his stomach. He felt a small ache, which prompted him to place a hand over his stomach. His face was completely red, all the way to the pointy tips of his ears. “G-God, that w-was e-embarrassing u-uh…” he couldn’t even bear to look at you. 

He did, however, reach out to snatch his notebook back. The action caused you to gasp and you took a step back, your mind still trying to process what had just occurred. Damn, was it that much of a secret he had to eat it? What sense did that make? Still, you watched as he took the notebook and put everything into his backpack before scurrying away. Strange. 

You knew you’d see him in just a few moments, given you had class and hero training together. But, you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to see him after he pulled such a strange stunt. “Uh...okay, bye then?” you said, clearly still confused despite the fact he was long gone. You placed your hands on your hips and sighed. “Well, wonder if I’ll see anything stranger than that today,” you shrugged and exited the library. 

It was almost a nightmare trying to sit through class, much less pay attention to the lesson. It didn’t help that you sat near Tamaki either, but he seemed to give you the cold shoulder. Not so much as dare to take a glance at you, though you happened to notice his hand was over his stomach. Maybe he had a stomach ache, though after consuming a whole piece of paper splattered with ink.

It didn’t surprise you much, if at all. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder just what he had to hide. When afternoon came, you seemed to have forgotten about the strange incident as soon as you slipped on your hero attire. You grinned as you walked alongside your classmates to Ground Gamma, given you couldn’t help but glance over at Tamaki. 

He was currently talking to Nejire, but you noticed his face was twisted in some form of discomfort. “Y/n...Y/n!!!” you snapped out of your thoughts before turning to face one of your classmates. “Huh? What?” it was a little shameful you had zoned out, but even so. The teachers had decided that instead of team exercises, you’d be facing each other one on one. 

This disappointed you as you rather enjoyed working with your classmates to form tactical strategies and such, but it was important for heroes to learn how to work on their own as well. The who versus whom opponents were randomized as to assure fairness and the element of surprise, you were hoping you’d be one of the first students to show your skills in combat.

But, unfortunately, you weren’t and much like the other student heroes in training, you had to stand back and observe. Though you found yourself growing bored and decided to take a seat on the ground, pulling your knees up to your chest and sporting a dull expression. You glanced over at Tamaki once more, taking note that he was still holding his stomach and Nejire was patting his shoulder. 

You assumed she was telling him he was fine. As the second pair of students finished their training exercise, you leaned back and gave a loud yawn which seemed to catch your teacher’s attention. “Y/n,” they said and you turned to look at them with a raised eyebrow, but answered nonetheless. “Yes?” you replied, “Since you seem so bored, I’ll give you a task. Next match, Suneater verse Y/n!” your eyes widened and you sported a dumbfounded expression. 

“W-What?” you questioned and your teacher merely smirked at you, was that even legal? You knew your teachers were also pro heroes and as such, should be respected. But, sometimes you couldn’t help but question their teaching methods. Your classmates seemed rather surprised, whispering how lucky you were to be facing a member of The Big Three and how you’d more than likely get your ass kicked. 

Tamaki didn’t seem to take the news very well either, in fact, his face twisted into what you could only describe as pure fear. “Uh, I d-don’t think-” he tried to protest, but the teacher cut him off quickly and ordered you two to start at opposite ends of the training ground. You looked to Tamaki and shrugged, “May the best student win?” once you had taken your position among the twisted landscape of metal piping. 

You crouched down, going through strategies that could possibly give you an advantage. You wouldn’t let the fact he was a member of The Big Three bother you, even though this all boiled down to one thing. You had to try your best, with that in mind. You decided to lay low and take a running start, keeping your eyes and ears open for Tamaki. 

Carefully avoiding those obnoxious pipes in your way before you heard a noise. It was just a small creek, but you knew better than to believe it was just Ground Gamma settling. You stopped briefly, legs bent and ready to make an escape if you needed to. You stared into the abyss of metal before suddenly a tentacle shot out toward you, but a quick dodge saved you from being captured and you took off. 

Slithering between big and small pipes alike before you decide to ricochet between two of them, angling your body so you landed on top of a sturdy pipe. You quickly turned on your feet, glancing over the landscape once more. Your eyes searching for any sight or sign of Tamaki, you also had to be aware those tentacles of his could be trouble. With that idea, you quickly looked down. 

Ensuring there was no sight of those powerful octopus arms, you then opted to travel above the pipes. Easily jumping from one to the next, your head turning back and forth despite the fact that wind was ruffling your hair and causing your bangs to sway in your face. But, it was quiet. Everything was so quiet which it shouldn’t be, Tamaki’s steps couldn’t be that silent, unless...he wasn’t on the ground. 

Your eyes widened at the realization and from the corner of your eye, you saw a single brown feather. “Oh no,” you turned your head as a shadow cast over you. Instantly, your jaw dropped as you saw him. Tamaki, Suneater, the best of the best. Right above you, brown wings spread to their span. His right hand was morphed into long tentacles and his left shaped into a clamshell.

Before you could blink, those wings flapped and the next thing you recalled was a hard hit to your stomach. It threw you off balance and you fell a good few feet before reaching the ground. Pain surged through your person and a long groan escaped you. Every fiber of your being was screaming for you to get back up, but you were too slow. You heard Tamaki land behind you, but he said nothing as he approached you.

Which at the moment, was scary even though he was normally a quiet and reserved person. However, you yelped when you felt those tentacles proceed to wrap around you, binding your arms by your sides. Your quirk was useless without the movement of your hands and knowing that simple fact, you couldn’t help but clench your jaw. It seemed Tamaki had to add insult to injury as you felt the pressure of his enlarged chicken foot against your back. 

“I think...y-you’re...done…” came his words, seems he was always a tad braver when he was Suneater which made sense. You turned your head as much as you could, sending a glare toward him. You were usually better than this, but to get bested this quickly. It only reminded you of how much further you had to go before you could truly call yourself a hero. 

“Suneater…” you hissed out, flexing your arms as you attempted to get out of his grip. Tamaki however, felt his stomach twist again and his face once more showed discomfort. Maybe eating that letter was a bad idea. It certainly wasn’t settling in his stomach right, and his heart was racing at an unusual speed. But, he felt a strange sense of happiness course through his body as well. 

“Y/n, I think you’re my love,” a gasp left his mouth and you felt those tentacles retract. You pressed your hand to the ground, now looking at Tamaki with a wide-eyed expression. “W-What?” you questioned, wondering if you heard him correctly. But, judging by the way he was holding his hands over his mouth and how red his face was turning. 

You assumed you had indeed heard the words he had spoken correctly. He took a step back and you noticed his wings were disappearing, was his quirk so consciously controlled that when he was distracted by overwhelming emotions it became faulty? You were more than certain that if the teachers and fellow hero students were still watching, they would be confused as to why Tamaki had let you go.

You slowly rose to your feet, though your body. Mostly your ribs coursed with a dull ache which had you grasping your side. Your eyes were locked on Tamaki as he shook his head and took a step back, his hands tightened around his mouth to prevent it from opening again. But, it was no good. His jaw ached and he couldn’t stop himself, painfully he opened his mouth and more confusing words spilled. 

“I...have...been watching you...for so long! I see...you in the...h-halls...and I…” his body went tense as he forced his jaw closed once more, teeth pressing tightly together. What was happening? He had no idea, but he needed to be quiet or else. Oh God, was this because he had eaten the confession he wrote? Your jaw was hanging open, unsure of how to process the words he was speaking. 

First, he ate a piece of paper, now this? You took a step back when Tamaki stepped forward, “Uh, T-Tamaki, are you okay?” you questioned before he opened his mouth once more, his eyes watering over which concerned you all the more. “I...f-freeze! You’re the one...p-plaguing...my t-thoughts, my desires…I,” Tamaki’s jaw clenched once more and he leaned over, his hands curling into fists. 

“I w-want you...my l-love,” your heart began to pound in your chest, being called ‘my love’ by Tamaki of all people. Well, it was sweet. But, you couldn’t ignore the fact this was clearly not a willing confession. Something was making him speak against his will, maybe his quirk? His voice was strained and breathless which only furthered your assumption he was truly fighting with himself.

“I...long...t-to hold…y-you! My darling...and b-be your hero, to c-cradle and protect...y-you!” his body was trembling as he raised his hand, fingers spread out and palm facing toward you. Your eyes shifted to that hand, eyebrows furrowing together. “Uh...Tamaki,” you said, though you were tempted to take that hand. “I long...t-to be yours!” he stumbled forward, his face was hot and he could feel droplets of sweat fall from his person.

The fact his cheeks were completely red was a good indication he was embarrassed by what he was saying which caused you to frown. You planted your feet on the ground, knowing that you couldn’t exactly run away or restrain him in his current state in order to win. That wasn’t a fair fight and in addition, you knew heroes don’t run from those in need. 

However, it seemed even in his...current abnormal state. He was still in control of some of the aspects of his quirk, in fact, before you could properly react. Those tentacles were around one of your arms, the suction cups digging into your skin and taking firm grip. “Amajiki!” you took a step back, trying to pull your arm out of his grip. But, it was no use as you just got pulled forward again. 

“AMAJIKI,” you warned again, going as far as to reach over and begin to claw at those tentacles. The sound of your shoes scraping against the metal ground wasn’t exactly comforting, neither was the fact you knew you were going to lose this small struggle. “I w-want to be your husband...one day! Scream your name...f-from the rooftops! My love...my one and o-only!” you shook your head, now growing afraid of the shy reserved boy. 

Especially when he finally pulled you forward, causing you to shriek. Your hand was out as you collided with his chest and you immediately felt the pressure of his arm against your lower back. His nails digging into your hip which made you hiss. But he continued to speak, “Just let me h-hold you and soak y-your body in! M-Melt together in a beautiful...ember of love and j-joy,” you blinked, trying to jerk your body out of his grip.

But, it was of little use. He leaned over and you shivered when you felt the soft skin of his face bury itself into your hair. “You are...my w-whole world…” he sucked in a breath, still fighting but it was beginning to hurt. His stomach felt heavy, too weighed down. He needed to say everything, “Fear and c-courage, the one...s-sole purpose in my life...i-is you,” the words were mumbled slightly and he lifted his head. 

“I won’t g-give up. I’ll f-fight the army that holds m-my love hostage, I want you to be...m-mine,” your eyes widened and you wanted to tilt your head up and look at him, but you were almost afraid to. “My l-love and my heart, the one...I w-wish to worship. D-Drop to my knees...a-and kiss your skin,” he choked out and you could feel those tentacles loosen around you. 

“Tamaki…?” his name came out of your mouth in a soft whisper and you finally lifted your head to look at him. His face was still twisted, a painful expression spread across it and you gasped as he leaned close. You were taken back by the intense expression that danced in his eyes and your face began to grow red. “I want t-to set up a s-shrine...pray to your p-powerful aura,” this was just getting weird, but somehow you knew it was the truth which made it even scarier. 

You were tempted to run when those tentacles finally retracted, but you didn’t have time to even think about such as Tamaki’s hand now gently took hold of your chin. You felt a lump form in your throat as you found yourself staring into Tamaki’s eyes. “Forever...m-more...until the end of my...d-days...I...” he suddenly stopped and his breath hitched.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. However, you let out another shriek when Tamaki suddenly dropped to the ground. You stumbled back, not having expected such a thing. The sound of his panting filled the air and you watched as he reached up and ran his hand through his hair. Such didn’t help the sweat that covered his person and your eyebrows furrowed once more. 

“I...Amajiki, are you...I mean...everything you said...was it…” you were almost afraid to ask and took a sharp breath which caused a shooting pain to course through your ribs. You latched onto your lip to prevent yourself from hissing and Tamaki slowly lifted his head to look at you. His eyes full of horror and regret, “I...I…” he wasn’t sure what to say, what could he say?

He wasn’t entirely sure what made him say what he did, every word he spoke was in his letter. Did eating it make an effect on his quirk? He groaned and covered his face, saying no more before he took off running in the opposite direction. It took you a moment to fully realize the Big Three member was indeed making a run for it, “Amajiki, wait!” you called out, your hand outstretched in his direction.

Your teachers and fellow students who witnessed this odd interaction were currently scratching their heads, trying to piece together what could have possibly happened to cause one of the top students to run with his tail between his legs. But, the fact you were being watched through this whole exercise was the last thing on your mind. 

You couldn’t help but run after Amajiki, your feet pounding against the metal flooring of Ground Gamma. While you had lost sight of him, you knew there was only one place he could have gone. To the end of the training ground where the exit was located, though you weren’t as fast as Tamaki which caused some anxiety as you hoped he’d be where you thought he was. 

When you reached the location of the exit, you leaned over with your hands on your knees. The sound of your soft panting filled the air before you wiped your brow. Your jaw then clenched as you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ribs, the exit to Ground Gamma was a large hallway with very dim lighting. In a way, it made you uneasy seeing Tamaki there. 

Despite being dressed in his hero attire, he was facing the wall. His forehead pressed against it and you could tell he was trembling, you had known Tamaki to do this exact thing. Given the fact he was rather shy and suffered from anxiety, you frowned and slowly approached him. “Amajiki,” you said, your voice was soft. But, that didn’t stop the fact that Tamaki ducked his head. 

You reached your hand out, wanting to touch him but you decided against it for now. You took a deep breath, “Um, so…” you reached up, scratching the side of your temple. Where would you even begin? “I’m not sure...what that was but...did you mean it? Everything you said?” Tamaki wanted to smack his head against the wall, your question left his stomach twisting with butterflies. 

Honestly, part of him wished his heart would stop as opposed to continue to pound inside his chest. Of course, everything he said was the truth as terribly spoken and previously written down as it was. He honestly didn’t know what he was doing. In fact, he had never written a love letter before and though he had made countless drafts. It seemed he just wasn’t talented enough to write such romantic words on paper. 

“Mm…” is the only way he managed to respond to you. “Mm? Amajiki…” you paused and decided to finally reach out, placing your hand on his shoulder.  However, he seemed to shy away from your touch. Shuffling to the side, you let out a sigh and lowered your hand. A friendly touch wouldn’t do anything in this case and you didn’t know the other Big Three members well enough to ask them how to properly handle Tamaki when he got like this. 

You’d feel bad if you left him all alone, but it didn’t seem as though he wanted your company at the current moment. You glanced down, hearing the sound of wind echo through the open exit way. You turned your head to look around, you knew you couldn’t afford to waste any more time. 

Else your teacher would begin to look for you or another verse competition would start. “Amajiki…” you said yet again, allowing your hands to rest by your sides. “Regardless if...what you said was true or not, I think we need to leave an-” before you could say anything more.

Tamaki had turned and began to sprint away and it honestly made your heart sink. You watched him disappear from view again and let out a sigh, maybe you’d confront him about it later. But, if what he said was true. Well, you’d need to figure out how you felt about it.

#tamaki x reader #amajiki x reader #bnha reader insert

[boognish-worshipper]

Remember the Rain

praying this is the final part of “Sunrise, Sunset” by the time i’m done omg ,, lamar finally talks it out with frank. i was tryna keep the titles consistent with a sky theme? wasn’t sure what to name this one at first, but i settled on naming it after a i song that i felt was sorta fitting lol ,, also lamar’s dramatic when drunk, that’s jus how it’s gonna be

oh and i included one last convo w/ that psychic lady bc each character got three opportunities to speak to her lol

//

The night Franklin and him fought was the third night in a row Lamar couldn’t sleep right. Then it became four. Then five. Six. He had hoped after the first couple days of Franklin being mad, that it’d all blow over and things would go back to normal. That he wouldn’t ever have to say anything about what he felt deep down. Even though he told himself he had to, he wouldn’t. He waited it out, and still hoped it would all just fucking blow over. That wasn’t what happened of course.

An overcast sky was spread over LS, light rain tapping against Lamar’s window. As cheesy as it was, it reflected how he felt. Another day had passed. Franklin wasn’t picking up, not even reading his texts, nothing. He called a couple times at first when the fourth day of the silent treatment occurred, then tried a few more times to contact him in the following days. It had grown into a long and sad string of texts.

franklin.

dog

plz

pick up

answer me

plz?

c’mon frank i told you i have nothin goin on with yo auntie

i wanna talk things out with you.

u ain’t let me finish explaining

text me when u read this. plz bro

He sighed. This was hopeless. He set his phone aside, still laying awake. A buzz came right after. Fucking finally, something.

fuck you

we got nothin to discuss

He didn’t know how to feel. This was fucking him up and he couldn’t think straight. He tried calling him once more, the ringing as he waited for a pick up mocking him. Voicemail yet again. How many messages had he tried leaving at this point?

for fucks sake frank pick up

u ain’t doin this to me rn

jus let me explain myself

He stared at the ceiling yet again, like it would have all the answers sprawled out for him. As he did, he focused on how the rain had picked up, coming down harder. Then he felt his phone buzz.

no

now stop blowing my phone up

i’m tryna sleep

Lamar was never one to be sensitive, but he felt so crushed right now that all he could do was cry silently to himself. He didn’t even have Chop around anymore to comfort him like he normally would whenever Lamar was going through something. Would he even see him again? He lived over at Frank’s now. Fuck. Did this mean they’d have to share custody now? If he wasn’t so upset, he most likely would’ve laughed at the idea of it. He was letting bad thoughts consume him, turning to a last minute resort of drinking to try stopping it. This kind of thing rarely happened to him, these kind of feelings weren’t common. He knew no other method of trying to stuff bad feelings down, working through a 6 pack of beer on his own, followed by a bottle of some type of random liquor. Anything to stifle the pain in his chest, although it didn’t accomplish much other than making him feel even more queasy. He left one last voicemail, choking back a sob. Or what he had thought would be the last one. He lost count.

“Franklin. Please jus’ talk to me already man. You- you believin’ what you wanna believe right now, you ain’t even givin’ me a chance. You my best fuckin’ friend, don’t that mean shit to you anymore? We.. homies n shit.” He sniffled, cringing to himself when he said the words “best friend”. Franklin was so much more than that to him.

“Ion… Ion think I can live without you in my life. You can’t hate me man that shit.. that’s fucked. This is fucked. I’m fucked.”

A strong feeling of humiliation hung around him for many reasons, one being that he was fully crying now, over the phone. He couldn’t get any lower.

“You jus’ mad right now. But you.. you won’t be, eventually. Right? Please get back to me soon. Please. I’d rather fuckin’.. die or sum’ than have you hatin’ me n shit. At this point I might as well.”

After hanging up, he decided to visit that site one last time. His tears blurred his vision, making it harder to type. The shit in his system didn’t help either.

lady

i fuckef up

thsi is yo faukt

What now? Why are you back?

frankljn hates me

He does? That’s not right.

damn straighy it fuckign isnt

No, I mean that’s not correct.

There’s no way that he could, even if it seems like it right now.

jus fuckin tell me whst to do

That’s out of my hands.

is not u fuckin wirch

*withc

*witch

Look, I really don’t know how else to help you. I don’t have any other visions to offer. You’re on your own.

They do say though, that dreams are visions themselves.

dont fukcin speak in riddles rn

Precognition, Lamar. Just have faith

prewhatnow

n yeah. faith. bc that helps so fuckn much

All I can say to you is good luck - it’s all coming together. Just wait.

th fuck does that mean?

It means that you’re stressing too much - you better sleep it off. Farewell Lamar. You’re gonna have a killer hangover you know…

SERVICE UNAVAILABLE. PLEASE TRY AGAIN LATER.

The notification did nothing but make him more upset. He calmed down eventually, the crying and alcohol tiring him out. He blacked out soon after, not remembering when he fell asleep.

For the first time in a while, he dreamt about the two of them. The start of the dream showed a radiant sight before them, the sky lit up in a million shades. Chop was laying beside Franklin, head on his thigh. All three of them sat on a grassy knoll, a soft breeze blowing through each blade. Franklin turned, Lamar not taking his eyes off him since the dream started. He only noticed the sky’s wide color palette because the intensity struck Franklin’s face just right. He looked right into Lamar’s eyes, speaking softly.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“What?”

“You had so many opportunities. So many times, I thought that you would. I got my hopes up, you know. I waited. When Tanisha left.. I only had you.”

“Tanisha..”

“I still love her. I.. I think apart of me always will, but I love you just the same. Even if you drive me up a Goddamn wall sometimes. You both mean the world to me.”

Franklin looked back at the view ahead. A heavenly indigo replaced the vivid hues from before.

“But she’s gone now. Shit ain’t the same. All I know is you stayed when she didn’t. Even when she got pulled outta the hood and made some kinda new life for herself, you never left my side. Never changed yo loyalties.”

He turned back to face Lamar again. His eyes were glassy, the glow of the midnight sky reflecting in them.

“So why didn’t you say somethin’ sooner?”

“Franklin.. I ain’t deduce that shit ‘til now.“

“You really didn’t know?”

Even in the dream he could feel that previous frustration occur in his mind. Was he hiding in a glass closet or something? He could only let out a wry laugh.

“Yeah man. I was a fuckin’ fool, jus’ like you always said.”

“Damn straight.” He chuckled, and Lamar came to the conclusion that he could listen to that laugh forever. Franklin’s face then fell solemn.

“Y’know I really thought that.. I really thought that you jus’ got with someone else. Not even jus’ my Aunt. I saw how you wanted to get away from me, and I thought…” He stopped himself, petting Chop’s head.

“I.. wanted to be happy if you was, but the thought of that at all bothered me.”

“Why?”

“Cuz you were all I had, dog. Mike n Trevor, they have their own lives, their own history n shit. I can’t always rely on them. Denise don’t give a fuck what happen to me. You my lifeline dog, I’ve known you for years. I didn’t want you to forget me over a chick or sum’. That day you acted all different n shit, it worried me.”

“Hey man, y’know I ain’t ever gon pull that shit on you. I’m with you for life.”

“Then don’t pull other kinda stupid shit on me.”

“Whatchu mean?”

“You can’t ever die on me bro. That ain’t how this shit works.”

“Ay man, I don’t plan on dying jus’ yet. Not unless yo ass by my side. Not ‘til I tell you I…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Franklin got closer to his face, cupping his cheek. His eyes shone as the stars around them fell from the sky, akin to raindrops, hitting them. Everything about him was flooding Lamar’s senses, and it felt surreal, between his aroma and all the other things he loved about Franklin. Golden flecks covered them both, and the stars continued to crash down. The sky was growing darker than before.

“Just say the words Lamar. Say them and this shit’ll be over.”

“How?”

“Well first you need to wake yo ass up.”

“Huh?”

“I said wake up, fool!”

Lamar’s blissful dream had been interrupted by an unknown figure shaking him, literal raindrops hitting his face. He was still bleary eyed, only seeing a vague silhouette in front of him. A wet slap to the face rattled his brain around, the hangover settling in. Shit, was he still drunk? What time was it?

“Lamar! Get up!”

“Oh.. Th’fuck? Who- who that is?” He grunted out.

“It’s me you fuckin’ clown!”

“Frank?”

“Who the fuck else?”

“Why are you-”

He was abruptly yanked out of bed, thudding to the floor with a small “oof”.

“Get up you punk bitch!”

“Franklin what the fuck-”

He was grabbed again, tossed back onto his bed. Franklin straddled him, shaking Lamar by the collar.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He said, Lamar getting another slap to the face.

“What in the fresh fuck is you talkin’-” Another slap.

“15 fuckin’ missed phone calls! 15! Are you fuckin’ nuts?!”

Lamar’s eyes practically popped out of his head. 15? What the fuck did he say to him?

“I did what-”

Franklin shook him even harder by his shirt, stretching the material out. He was straining his voice now.

“You had me worried like fuckin’ crazy! I thought you was in some sorta fuckin’ trouble again! You blew my phone up when I told yo ass not to, and then didn’t fuckin’ pick up after I heard the first couple special messages you left me!”

Oh God. This was it. He told Franklin everything, didn’t he? The color drained from his face.

“Oh fuck me..” He mumbled, putting a hand over his eyes.

“What?!” Franklin yelled, shaking him again. Lamar’s head was pounding.

“Franklin.. what.. what I say on there? I barely remember a thing, let alone callin’ yo ass.”

“You seriously don’t fuckin’ remember?!”

“Yeah. Seriously, man.”

Franklin slid off of him, putting a palm to his face. He breathed through his nose hard, trying to calm down. Lamar realized he was drenched from the small downpour outside. Pellets of rain thumped against the window as a reminder that the storm never went away.

“You.. fuck, man. You started sayin’ all this shit about how bad a fuckin’ friend you was. That you, you was hidin’ all this shit and couldn’t live another day without tellin’ me.”

Okay. Good. He didn’t tell him the truth.

“You told me you wanted to die dog. Didn’t realize yo dumbass was safe n sound asleep in yo fuckin’ bed.”

“Oh.”

“…’Oh’? Is that really all you have to say?!”

“F, I was jus’ drunk. It was dumb of me, I know, but I.. It’s nothing, okay?”

“Don’t do this shit to me man! I’ve already dealt with enough of yo fuckin’ schemes n shit-”

“Frank.”

“It’s 3 am! You had Chop barkin’ his Goddamn head off the whole night!”

“Franklin.”

“Then I race my ass over here to find yo drunkass self passed out in bed-”

“Franklin.”

“What! What?! You finally gonna put yo two cents in for once?”

“Stop yelling. My head hurts like a bitch right now.”

“Good! I’m fuckin’ glad because I know mine does as well you fuckin’ asshole!”

Lamar looked pathetically up at him. This was getting out of hand. He let it go on for too long.

“Why did you come here then?” He croaked.

“Because you were fuckin’ sobbin’ into the phone! All I heard was you cryin’ like mad fuckin’ crazy and it scared me. You don’t ever do that shit, not even when you fucked up.”

“How much I say?”

“I got the first message pretty fuckin’ clear, the rest was jus’ incoherent bullshit. I barely got through the second one before speedin’ on over. You sounded hurt n shit, I thought something happened. I thought you was a goner.”

“No weird shit though right? I ain’t say nothin’ bad?”

“What? Lamar, what the fuck are you on about? I just told you what yo ass cried out to me! I couldn’t even understand any of the other messages!”

“Okay, okay. That’s.. good I guess.”

“That’s good? Fuckin’ hell, why did I come here? You- ugh!”

“Franklin. Can you jus’ sit down before you pop a fuckin’ blood vessel? You stressin’ for nothin’.”

If anything, Lamar should be the one stressing right now. He had been so close to confessing without knowing. Franklin sat next to him, arms crossed.

“Franklin.”

“What.”

“I’m sorry that I scared you. I didn’t mean to.”

“Well good fuckin’ job, you accomplished that real well didn’t you.” He said, sarcastically applauding him.

“I thought you were cutting me off for good homie. You think I was gon’ let that happen?”

“Lamar, that still ain’t a good reason to freak me out like that in the middle of the night.”

“It’s only cuz you hadn’t been listenin’ to me bro. I’ve been wanting to tell you somethin’ so badly lately and I never.. got the chance.”

“Then do pray fuckin’ tell LD, what the fuck is so important that you had to do this shit to me at 3 AM!”

“Franklin man, c’mon-”

“No! Don’t start!”

Franklin stood, heading for the door as he spoke. He stopped in the threshold.

“Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on with you, or I’m leavin’ yo sad ass here to wallow. I mean it L.”

“Don’t be like that. Please man. I want to, but I-”

“Jus’ fuckin’ tell me! Why won’t you tell me?!”

“Frank-”

“I dragged my ass all the way over here for nothin’ didn’t I? You ain’t dead, you ain’t sayin’ shit, you jus’ bein’ so- ugh! Fuck!” He threw his hands up, exiting Lamar’s bedroom.

“I’m done man, fuck this.”

“Franklin wait- don’t go-” He pleaded.

Franklin did nothing but leave him stranded again, thunder rolling far in the distance. Lamar ran after him as he walked out the door, hearing the rain heavily hit the pavement. His mind was racing far ahead of him. Franklin was leaving, he was leaving for good, and he couldn’t. He can’t. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Franklin can’t do that, he can’t-

His mind had gone so far away, that he didn’t even realize that he had tackled Franklin to the ground. The two of them fell to the ground with a loud splat, followed by sounds of pain.

“Lamar what the fuck?!”

“Don’t go! Fuckin’ hell, I gotta chase yo ass and for what?!”

“Get off me dog!”

“No!” Franklin was pinned beneath him. The raindrops that rolled off of Lamar hit him in the face.

It reminded Lamar of when they were younger, playing football or whatever sport they could outside even as the deluge soaked them both to the bone. The roles had been reversed, with Franklin constantly knocking him down onto the grassy sludge. They got quite an earful from Lamar’s mom as they tracked mud in the house upon returning. It was a memory amongst many that stuck with him like glue. Those memories couldn’t go away. Franklin couldn’t go away.

Tears mixed in with the rain as he yelled out to him.

“You fuckin’ idiot! Why you makin’ this shit so hard for me?! You keep leavin’ before I can even finish!”

Franklin struggled to break free from Lamar’s grip on his wrists, huffing as he looked away.

“Look at me!” Lamar shouted, grabbing his face with a free hand.

“I didn’t wanna fuckin’ tell you like this, but Jesus Christ! For fucks sake you stubborn asshole-”

He was doing it. He bit the fucking bullet.

“You know how we got into that fuckin’ argument last week? When I told you that I was dealin’ with that whole love thing, I wasn’t talkin’ about yo Aunt, a hoe, nobody else! I was talkin’ about you!”

Lamar threw himself off of him, stumbling backwards. Franklin propped himself onto his elbows. He finally said it. He said it, and he was far from finished.

“But you didn’t wanna fuckin’ listen! And now I’ve fucked our friendship over for a second time! All because of you! This whole thing has been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane lately, and I couldn’t do shit about it! I tried so, so hard to avoid this, but nothin’ ever goes my way, huh?! Every time I think a plan of mine’ll work, it doesn’t! You know why?!”

Opening his arms wide, he spoke loud and clear, finishing his rant.

“Lemme remind you: I’m Lamar fuckin’ Davis! The biggest fuckin’ fool, fuckin’ clown, fuckin’ whatever you wanna call me! Lamar Davis, the most naïve bitch on the planet! Fuck me for thinking that this would ever go well!”

Now it was his turn to leave. But he didn’t go back into his house. His legs moved for him, walking in no particular direction. He just needed to get away from Franklin, not caring about how damp his clothes were now. He was shaking, and he didn’t know if it was from the rain or the range of emotions he was flying through.

He could hear a pair of sneakers squishing behind him. Franklin was running, and he was catching up fast.

“Ay Lamar! Get back here!”

Oh fuck. He was chasing after him now. That’s not good. Lamar started running himself, not caring about possibly slipping and falling on his ass. Only a few hours ago, he had told himself he couldn’t be without Franklin. Now all he wanted to do was run away.

“Lamar!”

Fuck fuck fuck.

He wasn’t fast enough. The second time they hit the ground, Lamar had the wind knocked right out of him, the duo splashing right into a puddle. Hands gripped his shoulders, flipping him around.

“Lamar!”

There were only a few instances in his life where Lamar felt small. He’d always been big in character, big in height, and according to him, big in other ways. But this was one of those moments where he couldn’t help but flinch, wanting to collapse in on himself. He was so tired.

“If you gon’ beat my ass or somethin’ jus’ get it over with.” He sighed, shutting his eyes tight.

When he felt nothing but raindrops touch his face, he opened his eyes slowly. His heart sank when he did. Franklin was visibly upset, guilt in his eyes.

“Lamar. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

A wave of déjà vu washed over him. Oh. So that’s what precognition meant. Motherfucking psychic lady.

“You should’ve jus’ told me man.”

“I tried dog. You wouldn’t hear me out.”

“Cuz I.. I thought you got with someone. I didn’t wanna hear it straight from yo mouth if you was.”

He shifted up, Frank sitting in his lap.

“Y’know I always thought that.. Part of me jus’ kinda thought that it’d always be the two of us. I’m never gonna get Tanisha back.. but you..”

Franklin looked away.

“You a crazy ass loyal motherfucker man. You stuck by my side no matter what, and some dumbass part of me was convinced that you… I mean fuck, so many times I thought you would jus’ flat out say something. Somethin’ so I could stop waiting for the one other person I had known forever to just say that they fuckin’ loved me like that.”

Lamar blinked, rainwater getting into his eyes. It wasn’t quite as serene as his dream had been, nor was it verbatim, but Lamar didn’t care. There was something about the way the water droplets sat along Franklin’s face, highlighted by a streetlight behind him that made him look angelic.

“When you started actin’ all weird it jus’.. made me so fuckin’ mad man. I thought you was gon’ pick someone else over me. Jus’ like Tanisha did.”

“Franklin..”

“So why didn’t you jus’ say somethin’ sooner? I waited. Hell, I don’t even know why I did at first.”

“Franklin.”

“But now I’m realizin’ you must not have even noticed yoself what you was feelin’, when I fuckin’ did. I noticed and you didn’t and-”

Lamar grabbed him by the face, grip surprisingly strong after being in the rain.

“How many times do I gotta say yo name for you to hear me?”

The rain kept falling, never slowing for either one of them. Yet, it felt like time stopped. Lamar chuckled lightly.

“Franklin Clinton and Lamar Davis. Two of the dumbest motherfuckers in LS. Homies for life.”

“Yeah. Homies for life.”

His hands never left Franklin’s face. He pressed their foreheads together, lowering his voice.

“I love you, bum ass bitch.”

“Yeah yeah. I love you too.”

He kissed the top of his head, moving his hands down to embrace him in a tight hug. When was the last time they did this? As he thought it over, he could hear Franklin’s voice muffled against his chest.

“Don’t scare me like that again. Next time save us both the trouble n jus’ spill yo heart out. Dramatic motherfucker.”

The words had no malice in them, Lamar feeling him smile as he said it. He kissed him once more, and they just sat in the rain, feeling it bathe them in fond memories.

//plz listen to remember the rain by 21st century it’s so good 💔😭 anyway ya i decided to end it on a sorta happy note !!!!! franklin is a stubborn guy smh,, sorry for any typos lol also i rlly had no idea where i wanted to go with this so sorry if it’s weird or whatever

#grand theft auto 5 #gta v #lamar davis #franklin clinton #franklin/lamar #framar #one sided pining #but with a twist #mutual pining #i told y’all frank was hiding sumn

[undeadorion-archive]

At long last I have a witness to the phenomenon that occurs when certain people see my jacket!

I have a denim jacket that I altered heavily. I dyed it, so it’s super dark indigo blue. Like one step shy of the purple range. It’s covered in colorful patches, and pyramid studs that I fired so they’re a mottled blue and purple. The back is the same as Crawford’s hoodie, but cut out of cricut iron on vinyl on black canvas attached with 3947 safety pins. It’s very much “gay, nerdy artist is sick of everyone’s shit” punk style.

I live just outside of Portland. If I was in Portland proper, I’d blend in just fine. Not even worth noting. But here, across the river I’m an anomaly. And when certain people see me it’s like they’re compelled to make a comment. It’s never negative, often times it’s just “I love your jacket.” But said in a tone like they were compelled to speak. 

One day, I walked into a place to pick up an online food order. There were no customers inside. One employee was sitting at the roped off tables eating his lunch. When I walked passed him, he was mid-bite. He didn’t even wait to swallow his food before blurting out those 4 words. The other day I was waist deep in the meat fridge at the grocery store trying to read half obscured price labels and a lady walking by my shouted those 4 words at me. 3 times I’ve encountered the same employee stocking shelves, and he reacts the same way every time. I’ve run into him not wearing the jacket and I don’t even register to him. 

There’s always this tone to their voice, too. Like they can’t quite comprehend what they’re seeing but they MUST speak. It’s never condescending but it’s not exactly a complimentary tone, either. And if they can manage to get passed that initial shock they manage to ask the same question. “Did you do those patches yourself?” You mean the poorly sewn and glued patches with the crooked stitches? Yup. 

I am in no way saying that my skills of garment augmentation are that compelling. I don’t even think it’s that great. I awkwardly slapped some patches on, some of them are even from Hot Topic. There’s several Sanders Sides emblems scattered about. The pins are mostly from podcasts about DnD. The back was made on a fucking Cricut. At most it’s an eyesore of clashing interests. It’s a hot mess cause my interests are a hot mess. It confuses me every single time people say something.

But today, finally, my dad was with me when it happened. We were at Costco and I was helping him load his cart with plastic totes. And it happened. A lady (I assume) that I never even saw blurted out “I love your jacket” and was gone before I could even figure out where it came from. It was enough that my dad stopped what he was doing and gave me a look of “what the fuck?” He hadn’t believed me when I tried to tell him about it. 

Basically the suburbs are fucking weird. 

[cometkov]

EDITH NOX, feb 2021; (940 words) dug out this old drabble from my drafts and decided to finish/edit it for posting. i still have no clue where im going with this wip, but it felt nice to revisit it after such a long time and do some world building!

I paced around the perimeter of the room, not quite sure why Violet had brought me here—or where here was. She had dragged me down countless corridors, ringed fingers clasped around my wrist, until my head spun.

When we finally emerged from the serpentine maze, the ceiling rose sharply so that I had to crane my neck to see the full height of the walls. Adorned by a gold border, stark against the creamy marble that constituted the rest of the room, a prismatic skylight ushered in sunbeams. Directly beneath laid a large mirror, belly-up, that shattered the rays into fractals of color.

Violet's cheek caught a fitting shade of purple, swarthy skin turning into a deep mahogany. She bent over the mirror for a short eternity, head bowed and eyes closed, until she sighed deeply. “Edith Nox,” she said my name as if it were a burden to her tongue, “Have you no reverence? No respect for the Fates?”

I thought about the various occasions in which the Fox had nearly killed me—both accidentally and intentionally—and how the Owl never seemed to speak to me, only at me. The Cat hadn't even shown up yet so I supposed it was unfair to judge so soon, but the Fates certainly seemed to have a distaste for me.

“Where are we?” I asked, avoiding Violet's question.

“This is the oldest sacellum in Iglanies. It was constructed by Lady Hyacinth of Eden.”

I approached the mirror, looking into it as if all the answers I was seeking would be broadcast in the sky. All I was met with was my reflection and a few stray wisps of cotton circling my head from beyond the skylight. “Lady Hyacinth.”

“Do you know of her?”

Lady Hyacinth predated kings and queens, but not by much. She lived during the time Momma liked to refer to as the In-Between.

“The In-Between,” she would sign to me over the kitchen table or as we sat below the rustling oak tree in the sunny afternoon, “Was a dark time. People were still recovering from the Great Disaster, trying to rebuild their broken societies to accommodate magic. Lady Hyacinth was one of the brave heroes who helped turn Earth from a post-apocalyptic wasteland to the thriving planet we have today.”

Violet exhaled gustily, unclasping her hands and pulling herself to her feet. “If you cannot give me a simple answer, the education system has truly failed you, Nox.”

“She was an architect and priestess famous for building a water shrine that people claimed could heal any sickness.” A gleam of indigo from the mirror fell over my eye. I wondered what color Violet saw as she met my gaze.

“The Elysian Fountain. Lady Hyacinth constructed the basin entirely of quartz to purify the crippling terror plaguing society. For her devotion, the Fates bestowed the basin with properties of vitality. Any water that flows through it absorbs this blessing.”

I looked back at the mirror, a thought occurring to me. "This is the fountain? I thought it was a mirror."

“It does appear that way when the water is still.” Violet knelt down beside me and blew gently into the water, her breath sending a series of ripples across the surface. When she spoke again, the usual prickle of her voice had mellowed out of the velvety touch of lamb's ear. "Lady Hyacinth was a very clever woman. She wanted to protect the fountain so she constructed a system to absorb any vibrations in the room. It involves many layers of padding and works at nearly all angles.”

“Except above.”

“Yes, except above.”

“Why didn't she just lock it up? Or at the very least put a lid on it?”

“She was clever, but perhaps she was also too kind. She wanted the fountain to be hidden, but not kept a secret. It was her way of keeping it out of the wrong hands without preventing those in need from getting to it.”

Though her methods were confusing, I could understand Lady Hyacinth's intentions. She wanted to heal others and the Fates had given her something she could never have dreamed of. She couldn't decide how to use her gift without unleashing disaster.

I forced myself away from the fountain, finding myself staring too deeply into it. “You said this was a sacellum?” “The oldest in Iglanies.”

“It’s rather...grand, isn’t it?” The little shrines dedicated to the Fates back in Abricot were much smaller and lacked the intricacies of the one we sat in.

“Some claim Lady Hyacinth was...perhaps a tad bit...obsessive in her endeavors. She was dedicated to serving people, and as an extension, the Fates. She thought she should show her full efforts.”

“I see.” As I took note of all the details, I felt a pang of pity within me. The Fates didn't seem like the type to appreciate her efforts. At the very least, I could marvel at Lady Hyacinth's work in place of them.

I got on my knees and clasped my hands together just as Violet had before, bowing my head and conjuring the image of the Fates in my mind. Clearing my throat, I said loudly, “Fates above: that who spin us, that who tie us, that who cuts us, Lady Hyacinth put her whole heart into creating this place, so you better appreciate it.”

“Nox!” Violet exclaimed, “You pray with your mind, not your mouth.”

“Please and um, thank you,” I crossed my collarbone as I added in an attempt to quell Violet's annoyance.

“It seems prayer etiquette will need to be added to your studies.”

I laughed.

Violet didn't laugh back.

#comet writes #wip edith nox #oc edith nox #oc violet choi

[secret-engima]

...Rufus Shinra and the Turks in KHR

-Pure, total, utter, CHAOS.

-This boy was raised to rule an EMPIRE that played pretend as a power company there is no one more suited to wreak havoc with the Mafia than this boi and his pack of trained killers.

-Let’s be really mean and make Rufus be reborn as Tsuna and OH BOY the chaos starts from a young age.

-Tsuna doesn’t remember his old like until Nono seals him, and several days later (after Nono and Iemitsu have left) in the continuous desperation to LIVE-SURVIVE-NO-NO-NO that comes from having part of his soul locked away, Tsuna cracks open a part of his mind that should have never been touched, and Rufus spills out across the young, vulnerable mind of his second life with a gasp and a shudder, and he feels something in his veins screaming to be let out, and it feels like drowning-freezing-dying so he FIGHTS with every ounce of Will he has.

-The seal was meant to restrain the young, untrained Flame of a toddler. This new and unsettled, it was not prepared to hold back the surge of Will that came from an adult mind honed to a razor edged and tempered in world-ending apocalypses. The seal shatters into a thousand shards, but not before it carves at Rufus’s soul on the way out, and Nana rushes her son to the hospital for what looks like a seizure.

-The doctors have to restart his heart three times before he finally stabilizes (before his Flames finally flush the last of the seal shards from his system and are allowed to flow free through his veins). During the tense, hours long struggle to keep him alive, Nana calls the number Iemitsu gave her over and over.

-No one answers.

-Rufus wakes up in a hospital, and the sensation is not unfamiliar. It still takes him a moment to recognize the woman dozing in the chair by his bed with dark marks under her eyes as his mother (new mother) and this life as Tsuna’s life, not Rufus’s.

-Well. This is.

-Not what he expected when he died.

-He gets the feeling Gaia is laughing at him.

-The doctors can’t figure out what caused his seizures, nothing unusual shows up on any of their tests or scans. The only thing is heightened stress hormones and blood pressure, but not nearly high enough to cause damage. Eventually they let Nana take him home, but the woman who was previously so distant and ... ditzy in Tsuna’s memories is now protective, alert. Rufus assumes it’s because having your child nearly die horribly for unknown causes would make anyone (barring say, his old father) terribly upset.

-(He doesn’t know that Nana carried him all the way to the hospital because she doesn’t have a car, that his Flames, screaming Sky and biting, feral Mist, soaked into her own soul in their desperation, and in their quest to tear off his seal, shattered the one Iemitsu had sneakily applied to Nana’s passive Sky flames as well).

-Rufus thinks on Tsuna’s memories and realizes that it was his absentee father and “grandfather” (hah if that’s not a crime lord euphemism he’ll eat his own shoes) that caused his awakening and near death. There is something morbidly amusing in having a terrible, probably criminal father in both lifetimes.

-It would be funnier if he had any of his old allies to help him along (to make him feel less lonely).

-He also has powers now, and for a while he wonders if that makes him some kind of Ancient or halfbreed of one, but either way he keeps them secret, and he’s pretty sure Ancients didn’t use quite this much fire in their powers.

-He keeps his head down, he gets top marks in school but makes no real effort to socialize with his peers (none of them are worth knowing except maybe Hibari, but Hibari is feral and Rufus isn’t sure he wants to deal with that), and in secret he practices control over his Flames. He has two of them, one is bright orange and bright and POWERFUL, it’s the easiest to call. The other is weaker, but it’s incredibly useful. It’s light indigo in color, and with it Rufus can weave illusions from simple “don’t notice me” things to full on imagined animals or people as distractions.

-One day though, he gets caught playing with his powers by one Yamamoto Takeshi. The boy looks at him with an implacably neutral expression and Rufus is wondering if his purple fire can erase minds, when suddenly he smiles and holds out a palmful of blue fire.

-Rufus’s orange Flame lurches out of his skin in a breathless, needy desperation that startles them both, the Intuition in Rufus’s head SINGING found-you-found-you-mine-mine-mine- and there’s a click in both their souls-.

-Takeshi relaxes and something in Rufus’s soul cries with joy and recognition. Then Takeshi folds his hands politely in front of him and smiles a smile Rufus would know anywhere in the world, “Hello sir,” Tseng murmurs, “it’s good to finally see you again.”

-After that, their adult reserve crumbles, and the two children (only ten years old) cry heart wrenchingly on each other’s shoulders, because they saw the world end, they saw death, and now they woke up and thought for years they were the only ones.

-The others trickle in slowly after that, in fits and starts. Kyoko wanders over one day and introduces herself as Elena, and Rufus realizes Ryohei, her very quiet brother, has been something of a Martial Arts fanatic since a few years ago (since Rufus broke his seal, he doesn’t know it, but the sheer power and desperation of his Flames echoed over the town and woke up the others, though they did not realize where their awakening had come from).

-Cissnei shows up on his doorstep without explanation, her hair dark purple now and her body skinny from malnutrition that Rufus’s new mother happily sets about fixing.

-One by one his Turks drift in, and when Hibari starts growling over the intrusion of a budding gang in his territory, Rufus finally deigns to give Hibari his full attention.

-It’s a fight that ends in two broken arms, three broken ribs, a black eye and a nasty concussion, but one of those arms, the black eye, one of the ribs, and the concussion aren’t his and Hibari looks at Rufus in something like awe before he names Rufus Fluffy Carnivore and suddenly Hibari has a new turk recruit who comes with his own small army of pompadour wearing minions.

-Excellent.

-Rufus is content to start small. He doesn’t want to attract the attention of his father’s organization yet, but he has established himself as a small Yakuza now (though no one knows he rules it, his illusions are so helpful in making him seem smaller and weaker and clumsier than he is, to the point the oblivious students and teachers call him Dame-Tsuna) and he is looking into uncovering which Mafia group his father works for (so he can someday tear it up by the roots and burn it down, just to see the look on Iemitsu’s face).

-Of course, when he turns 14, everything gets ... complicated.

-Namely a tiny hitman shaped vaguely like a toddler shows up on his doorstep, calls him Dame-Tsuna, and says he’s here to teach Tsuna how to be a proper Mafia boss.

-Rufus and his Turks are Not Impressed™.

-But Iemitsu sent this tiny hitman, and Rufus is never one to pass up a chance to play the enemy for a fool, so he plays along. He plays the startled, skeptical civilian, the klutzy middle schooler with a group of wacky friends who don’t fit in any better than him, and when the TRAINED KILLER who is the best in the world (or so he claims) buys it wholesale, Rufus has to struggle not to roll his eyes at the sky because HONESTLY.

-Then Reborn drags a boy from Italy here, one who is quiet and wears sunglasses and has perhaps too much love of explosions and Rufus grins to himself and clicks his fingers at Tseng. Tseng takes the boy aside, and when they come back, Rude calmly swears fealty to Rufus without batting an eye.

-Reborn’s strangled surprise in the corner is priceless.

-It’s less priceless when Reborn shrugs it off as coincidence and keeps buying the “Dame-Tsuna” persona.

-It takes until Mukuro (Reno, a nearly broken, fractured Reno who has kept his sanity only because of the memories his torture dragged up out of his soul) shows up with two more of his Turks and Rufus and Rude talk them down in minutes (and with a lot of tears afterward, because these bodies are only 14 and Reno and his comrades have been through too much already) that Reborn starts to get suspicious that Something Is Up.

-Even so. The Dame-Tsuna insults and condescension persist, and Nana is bristly from it now (from being lied to in the face and expected not to notice) and Reborn still doesn’t notice and it is honestly getting on Rufus’s nerves.

-The day the Varia show up and he is told that Tsuna is to fight for the throne of Vongola, a pack of seeming 14 year olds against TRAINED ADULT ASSASSINS. Rufus decides enough is enough.

-On the day of the first fight, Rufus calmly and openly tells his Turks to “Take the Field”. The leader of the Varia, a man who’s Flames all but scream pain and betrayal and anguish (a familiar set of emotions, albeit not hidden and turned into poison, and it seems like Rufus is destined to be reminded of his first childhood at every turn doesn’t it) laughs at the “arrogance of the small trash”. Rufus just smiles, thin and polite and sweet.

-Martial Arts tears through Lussuria with a flurry of punches and kicks that send little shockwaves through the arena and the laughter slows.

-Knives (now named Haru) doesn’t even bat an eye at the lightning umbrellas and instead goes straight for the man’s sensitive bits with a lightning enhanced foot, then holds a knife to his sensitive parts and sweetly asks him to yield.

-By the time the Storm battle occurs and Rude has neatly burned off a good chunk of the Varia Storm’s hair with his bombs, the laughter has stopped and the staring has begun. Reborn and Iemitsu are deathly silent as they watch “Tsuna’s civilian friends” shred the Varia like paper, but really what did they expect to happen when they pitted the only group of unenhanced alive who could go toe to toe with SOLDIERs and win against some over-confident assassins?

-The Varia leader gets steadily more furious with each uninterrupted victory from the Turks, snarling and raging at his subordinates in a way that is most unbecoming. By the time it’s the turn of the Skies (and Nono is there to watch and such a PITY he didn’t get killed in the exploding mecha suit, truly), Rufus is still smiling thinly and Xanxus is fit to burst with fury.

-”What are you?” Xanxus roars not long into their fight, when Rufus calmly dodges every blast and seems to all but fade from the senses if they take their eyes off him for a mere moment, “You’re supposed to be a Sky! Stop fighting like a trash Mist!”

-Rufus stops, and pointedly does not look at Reborn or Iemitsu or Nono. He just grins, wild and bloody, “Alright.”

-He lets his Sky Flames out.

-The two so-called referees, Iemitsu’s pet Rain, and the Varia’s Lightning all drop to their knees from the pressure.

-Xanxus gapes.

-”Turns out,” Rufus hums calmly as he creates a shotgun out of Mist Flames and fires a round of pure Sky Flame at Xanxus’s chest (the man barely dodges with a stream of curses), “that nearly dying of a prolonged seizure and three heart attacks when you are just a toddler because of the Flame Seal that your dearest father and father’s boss tried to carve into your soul means your Dying Will is very, very strong. Who knew.”

-Xanxus actually lowers his pistols to stare at Rufus, “They. What.”

-Rufus politely refrains from shooting this man while his guard is down, because an enemy of Nono is a potential ally that shouldn’t be wasted, “You heard me. Ask mother dearest if you want. She was the one who ran to the hospital with my seizing body in her arms and spent the next seven hours outside the emergency room calling my father’s number with no response, unsure if I would live or die. But please, don’t let mere facts stop you from telling me how I’m trash who can’t light a candle with my Will. It certainly doesn’t stop my so-called Tutor.”

-Somewhere in the background, Reborn makes a strangled noise, and Rufus thinks that the Varia Sun is the one making the angry kettle noises all medics make when their medical sensibilities have been gutted and set on fire in front of them.

#SE asks #oliverslewty asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Tear Down the Sky verse #Rufus as Tsuna verse #long post #oh look new au #giving this two names for now #we'll see which one I remember

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Witches Get Stitches Fanfic

Title: Witches Get Stitches

Summary: Patton’s ecstatic to take to the skies on his broom for the first time. His familiar Virgil on the other hand? Not so much.

Pairings: platonic moxiety 

Word-Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Panic, Crying, Blood Mention, Injury, Implied Child Abuse, Witches, Magic Discrimination, Hurt/Comfort

I started this fic back in July and I finally finished it!! This was inspired by this wonderful piece of art by @fandergecko

-

The moon views the colorful city below from behind the visage of clouds. The sky guardian is at the height of her rule; the full moon. Bright and bold enough to rival the streetlights and flashing neon signs of the city. The celestial court accompanies their ruler; pinpricks of starlight that scatter across the sky. 

A summer breeze lazily sweeps in. It is not in a hurry like autumn gale in the tune of students scurrying to classes. Or sharp and piercing as the stern winter draft. Nor is it graceful and airy as the spring wind. For it is summertime, a time when children frolick without homework hanging over their heads. A time for snow cones and ice-cream. A time for mischief and tomfoolery.

In the city that rests beneath the moon’s eye there is hardly a peep. One might argue it is almost as peaceful as a sleepy village. Where is the excitement? Where is the bustle and hustle? The midnight mischief? 

The moon looks on in disappointment. The stars whisper amongst themselves, bored and unamused by the humans’ offerings for nighttime antics. Dark clouds creep closer to the moon, covering her almost completely.

‘Come.’ They all seem to say, ‘Let us go and find another place more worthy of our light.’

Before the clouds sweep away their queen, a loud, excited hollar halts their advance.

“WOOOHOOOO!”

“P-p-pa-pa-pa-PATTON!”

On the heels of the summer breeze, comes their midnight mischief. From the perspectives of both the heavens far above and the streets far below, it is a fast blue flash zooming through the air. Look closer, and you might realize it is only a witch with his familiar flying on his broom.

His witch robes are a gentle blue like a peaceful sunny sky. Blue knee-high socks adorn his legs, with a cute cat face where the sock cuts off at the knee. He wears the traditional witch’s hat--big and floofy in all its’ witchy glory. It is dyed a lovely indigo with splashes of yellow that are crude representations of the stars above. This of course catches the nighttime hosts’ attention. For they like many are fond of flattery.

 Wavy amber hair seeps out of the witch’s hat, resting gently on his spectacles. Freckles like stars scatter across his tanned face. His blue eyes shine brightly with excitement, his mouth open agape with awe. Books and other personal belongings fly out from the witch, unnoticed in their fast descent towards the ground.

 It is clear to both the moon and her faithful court that this witch is having the time of his life. His familiar, on the other hand, is a completely different story

Like for many witches depicted in fiction, his familiar takes the form of a black cat. A very terrified, very small scrawny black cat. Hackles raised, ears pinned back, pupils dilated. The familiar’s claws are embedded in the wooden grain of the broom, as he tries to stay on for dear life.

If this was a movie, this might be the moment where the freeze frame happens, stopping on a zoomed-in shot of the screeching familiar. A voice-over recording occurs,  ‘Hi, that’s me, Virgil. You’re probably wondering how I got into this situation.’ 

Fortunately, the Moon is well aware of this pair and their history. How could she not be? It was under her watchful eye the two first met. 

A sniffling young boy with two missing front teeth and band-aid covered knees. A frightened malnourished black kitten barely five weeks old. Two young children lost and alone in the cold, unforgiving dark. All the Moon and her compatriots could do was watch and provide them their dazzling light.

“It’s okay,” The boy said, smiling through the tears dribbling down his cheeks, “I know you’re scared of me but it--it’s okay. I won’t hurt you, promise.”

The black kitten was just an ordinary black kitten. It could not understand the words the boy spoke anymore than it knew the little hand reaching towards it meant no harm. Despite this, the black kitten took a step forward. The boy stayed still. The kitten took another step and then another, until it sniffed the boy’s hand. Satisfied, the kitten headbutted the hand, a tiny purr rising from its throat. 

A shaky breath caught in the boy’s throat. Carefully, he petted the kitten’s matted fur. The kitten didn’t run away, didn’t try clawing or biting the hand. It kept purring, its’ eyes squinting in delight. It wasn’t scared of him anymore. Everyone was always scared of the boy, his parents included. They feared the magic running through his veins and what it could do. The boy tried his best to be friendly, to hide it away, but it was never enough for anyone. Except, apparently, a little malnourished black kitten with a mangy coat.

The black kitten let out a surprised mew as the boy hoisted him off the ground. He wrapped his pudgy arms around its frail frame and sobbed.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” The boy babbled, “I’ll--I’ll take care of you, I’ll make sure you’ll have plenty of food and we can be the best of friends--”

The black kitten once again could not comprehend these words. It did not understand why the giant, towering hairless kitten was so distressed. But it remembered how its mother purred to comfort the cries of it and its littermates. So the kitten continued purring, pressing its head into the boy’s chest. The boy was warm and most importantly just as alone and frightened as the kitten was. Clearly they should stick together for survival. 

Neither knew at that moment, but the two had created a magical pact. One that bonded the two as witch and familiar. It was informal, created without the use of intricate spells and rituals, but as strong and enduring as a bond should be. 

Slowly the kitten grew into not an ordinary black adult cat, but something more. A being endowed with magic and an intelligent mind of its own. As wonderful as this all is, Virgil found this at times very perplexing.

 Imagine being a cat whose sole priority in life had been napping and now suddenly there are a thousand different other things to worry about. Things like possibly falling off a broom hundreds of feet up in the air. Then you might understand why Virgil wishes at times to go back to a much simpler time of existing. 

This is a wish that shooting stars will never grant, for even they can see his love for his boy outweighs his frustrations of becoming more. Virgil loves his witch. He loves him enough to rake his claws across school bullies’ faces. He loves him enough to be the witch’s sole companion for years and years. He loves him enough that his sole priority in life is no longer naps but to protect and keep his witch safe.

Flying on a piece of wood? That is not safe. As much as Virgil trusts Patton, he cannot help but worry. He is no longer just a cat, no longer just Virgil, but a piece of Patton himself. He is the reflection of Patton’s magic. Something that the witch feared for so, so long. Growing up, it’d been best to hide it, to shove it away rather than embrace and understand it.

Virgil knows they’re now in a more magic-friendly town. They’re far away from judgmental parents and peers. Patton thinks it’s safer now. Virgil doesn’t. He remembers all the times Patton lost control of his magic and it hurt others, hurt himself. He remembers and fears the friendly faces of the city turning into hateful, jeering ones.

This is why he clings to the broom, heart thrashing loudly in his chest. It does not help he has a fear of heights in the slightest. Normal cats don’t worry much about heights, but again Virgil is not normal. 

“This is so much fun, Virgil! I can’t believe we haven’t tried this sooner!” Patton laughs, completely oblivious to his familiar’s plight. This is his first time successfully levitating a broom, let alone knowing the thrill of riding it fast through the night sky. Yet another reason Virgil fears how high up they are. He trusts Patton, but he also knows how easy it is for a spell to go south quick.

“I--I can!” Virgil yowls, curling his tail around the broom. He snatches a quick look at the ground below, regretting it immediately. He shuts his eyes as he tries keeping a hairball down. The broom lurches to a stop and he doesn’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse. They’re still levitating as high as the city skyscrapers after all.

“Aw Virgil,” Patton says, “It’s okay, we’re safe up here.”

He scratches the spot between Virgil’s furry ears and really, that is totally unfair. Virgil still retains his feline traits, and he can’t help the pleased purr that erupts from that desired spot getting scratchies. He has to fight through it and focus on what’s important; Patton.

“No it’s not, it’s not safe, not safe, Pa-pat--” Virgil says, the unnatural human words becoming garbled in his cat throat in his panic.

Patton’s wide grin vanishes completely as a small frown replaces it. He gently picks his familiar up, caressing Virgil close to his chest.

“Hey it’s okay, Virge. We’re gonna go back home now, alright? Promise I’ll let you eat all the treats you want, and we can watch Nightmare Before Christmas, okay?”

“O-okay.” Virgil agrees. It isn’t Patton agreeing never to fly again, but it does mean no more flying for tonight. They’ll be on the ground, safe once more inside Patton’s apartment. 

“Cool, cool, cool,” Patton murmurs, “Now, um, de-levitate!”

Nothing happens.

“De-leviatify? No, wait, it’s crescendo!” Patton says, “Ascendo? Something latin wordy, ummm stringendo?!”

“Patton,” Virgil begins, his voice eerily calm, “Please for the love of catnip tell me that you didn’t levitate a broom without knowing how to unlevitate it.”

“Would you kill me if I told you I may have gotten so excited about flying that um I maybe kindasoratforgotaboutthatpart?” Patton says, squeaking out that last bit.

“PaTtOn.” Virgil yells, his voice doing that awful echo. It only ever happens when something bad is gonna happen. Such as Patton losing complete confidence in the spell he’s currently casting. 

“AHHH DESCENDO!” Patton yells, right about the time the broom drops downwards. Patton grips onto the wooden broom with two hands, leaving Virgil to cling desperately to the witch’s robes. They’re flying fast down to the ground below, faster than they were moments ago in the sky.

“I--I can’t control it!” Patton yells, tugging at the broom, attempting to pull it upwards for a softer landing to no effect. 

Virgil doesn’t say anything back, his thoughts flying faster than the speed they’re currently falling. There’s absolutely no way they can survive this. Patton is too panicked to use magic and already limited by his inexperience. They’re going to hit the cement sidewalk hard, like bugs getting squashed beneath his clawed paws. He just knows it.

What he doesn’t know is that the Moon is watching. She is always watching from her throne in the night sky. Even on nights she hides her face from the mortals below. She is the protector of the night sky. As such, she has dominion over it.

“Grant them a safe landing.” The Moon urges the Summer Breeze. They acquiesce, but like a teenager they are sullen and testy about it. 

Patton’s broom evens out as the summer breeze takes hold of them. Neither Patton and Virgil realize this; they are both too busy screaming. The Summer Breeze takes pleasure in their terror. It flexes its metaphorical fingers. 

“Patton, what are you doing?” Virgil cries as the broom jerks abruptly upwards. Almost at a near-vertical slant. 

“It’s not me, I swear!” 

Patton still can’t control the broom. An unseen force jerks it around, up and around, from side to side and doing it’s best attempt at a cha-cha. The broom flies up high, high, higher than all the skyscrapers. It comes to a sudden stop. The Moon looms overhead, chastising the Summer Breeze for its’ fun.

Meanwhile Patton is still attempting to remember the correct spell. 

“Descent, wait no, DESCENTUS!” He cries out, and the broom glows bright with his magic.

His spell snatches the broom out of the Summer Breeze’s hold. Patton grips it, letting out a half-terrified half-elated yell as he regains control. The Moon and Summer Breeze watch, stunned, as the mortals they both yanked like a pair of dolls take control of their destinies.

They don’t have to watch for long. The ground quickly approaches the two mortals, ready for a harsh asphalt embrace.

“Patton!” Virgil screeches yet again, for it really is the only thing he’s capable of at this moment.

“It’s okay!” Patton reassures, a manic smile sparking his features again. A witch is only ever truly alive when performing magic. They feel purposeless without it. So even in this harrowing situation, Patton feels at ease. Although they once more fly fast towards the earth, it is from his spell. Not from a lack of confidence or meddling fates like before.

Still, it is his first time landing a broom and cement is hardly the perfect practice zone for such things. As they reach the ground, Patton pulls to a stop a moment too late. Both witch and familiar are sent tumbling down to the cruel cement. 

Virgil instinctively lands on his feet. Patton’s descent is less than graceful. He skids on the ground, rolling, until he comes to a halt a few feet away. The broom is the worst off of the three. Upon impact it has splintered into three pieces, its head flying clean off the handle.

For three heartbeats there is nothing. Then Patton groans, his form slowly rising upwards. That’s enough to shake Virgil out of his stupor. He marches right up to Patton, words spitting out of his throat, “We are never doing that again. That was the stupidest, most moronic thing you’ve ever pulled, you could’ve gotten us both killed--”

Virgil stops, pupils growing wide, “Is that blood?”

“No!” Patton loudly denies, but his screwed-shut eyelids and grimace of pain betrays him. Virgil also isn’t blind. He can see the blood pouring out of Patton’s knee, soiling his knee-high kitten sock with its crimson color. It’s bad, so much worse than a mere scratch or scrape even.

“Holy shit, you’re going to die,” Virgil whispers, settling on top of Patton’s chest.

“I’m not gonna die--”

“Hey, are you two okay?!” A concerned voice shouts from afar. The two of them look up to see someone approaching them. A man, older than Patton yet too young to be his father. Perhaps in his thirties? He seemed nonthreatening with his Steven Universe shirt and pinched look of worry but Virgil knows better.

“Stay back!” Virgil hisses, hackles flaring up. He keeps his claws sheathed, not wanting to deal more harm to Patton than already dealt.

The stranger takes a few steps back, hands raised in a placating gesture. Virgil doesn’t relax a single muscle. 

“Virgil,” Patton tries, silencing at the glare his familiar sends his way. Tears gather in the corner of his witch’s eyes now. So close to spilling over his freckled cheeks and down to his shirt. Patton’s knee is hurting him much more than he’s letting on. 

“Listen,” The stranger says, ignoring Virgil’s yowl of disapproval, “I just want to help, promise.”

He crouches down, lifting something out of his coat pocket. A brown wiggling furry something with a long pink tail. A rat. 

“Hiya babes,” The rat speaks, “The name’s Remington, Remy for short. This here tall glass of coffee is Thomas.”

“Y--you’re a witch?” Patton gasps, although if it’s from shock or pain Virgil can’t tell. 

“Yup,” Remy says, seemingly confident to speak on Thomas’ behalf. He struts over to the two, ears and whiskers perked forwards. Virgil is taken aback by the gall of this rat. 

“I could easily kill you, you know,” Virgil says, unable to keep this thought to himself.

The rat lets out a short squeak of laughter, “Oh honey, I’d like to see you try.”

Virgil’s tail flickers, “Don’t worry, I will--”

“Virgil.” Patton warns again, a hiss of pain escaping through clenched teeth. The rat treads closer to the affected knee. Virgil’s ears flatten, but he does not attack. He knows Patton would disapprove of that. Instead he waits, body tense and poised for action if needed.

“Oof, it looks like you’re gonna need stitches, Buttercup.”

“Stitches?” Virgil yowls.

“It’s alright, Virgil. I’m fine.” Patton says, smiling but it comes out all wrong. Like a rubber-band all stretched out and worn.

“No, you’re not. Y-you’re hurt.” Vigil rumbles, because he can feel it. Patton’s pain pulsates through their connection, like waves crashing against the shore. Magic caused this. Patton would be fine if they stayed in his apartment where it’s safe. Not out performing magic in the late hours. “Fuck, you’re hurt, and everyone’s going to hate us again--”

“Whoa,” Thomas interrupts, the first words he’s spoken since bringing out Remy, “no one is going to hate a Glistenstone student for not having proper control of their magic just yet.”

Patton shifts his gaze downward, hugging Virgil closely like a stuffed animal. Virgil, for his part, doesn’t protest. Instead he purrs into Patton’s chest in an attempt to soothe him. Glistenstone is a sore point for the both of them. For years it’d been their beacon of hope. An university solely for magic users--who sent their acceptance letters for those eligible at the age of eighteen.

Patton never received one.

“I’m afraid I’m not a Glistenstone student, sir,” Patton says with a shaky breath.

Thomas and Remy exchange a look.

“Well kid, would you like to become one?” Remy asks.

“What?!” Virgil and Patton burst out in unison, the latter with a yelp of pain.

“I, um, have connections--”

“Connections, alright, you have more than connections.” Remy inputs.

“But anyways,” Thomas continues, sending a quick look Remy’s way, “we can talk more on that later, if you’re interested. We should probably get that leg of yours checked out. Lemme help you up.”

He offers a hand towards Patton. Virgil coils himself around Patton’s shoulders, glaring distrustfully. Patton accepts the hand, leaning heavily on the older man for balance. 

“I’m going to use a teleportation spell, alright?”

And with a flash, they’re gone.

----------------

An apartment, late at night. It’s a tiny one-room apartment cluttered with books and clothing spewed all over. The Moon peers through its sole window, watching a familiar pace in front of his witch. Patton sits on the edge of his bed, his knee all cleaned and stitched up. Silence reigns in the apartment, an uncomfortable one at that. One neither occupant can stand much longer.

“I’m sorry, Vee,” Patton says, breaking first, “I should’ve really thought before I attempted flying like that. You were right, I almost killed us both.”

Virgil swishes his tail, looking up at his witch. He can never remain upset with Patton for long. Especially when he holds back a sob, curling into himself as if expecting a blow. Any residual anger in Virgil’s veins solidifies into guilt. 

“No, I’m sorry,” He says, “I--I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It’s okay,” Patton insists, “I know you were just worried.”

“Still doesn’t make it right.”

Patton sighs, “I forgive you, can we just cuddle now?”

“If you want to, I guess.” Virgil murmurs, but it’s an act. The way he immediately purrs after wedging himself in Patton’s arms betrays him. His witch laughs, petting his silky fur.

“What...do you think?”

“Of what?” 

“Glistenstone.”

Virgil’s ears twitch downwards. Thomas had given his contact info to Patton, telling him to call him in the morning if he was interested in pursuing Glistenstone. 

“I...don’t know. It seems fishy to me. Like, why now? Why didn’t you get an acceptance letter before? And what type of connections does that Thomas guy have? I don’t trust it. But I also know I’m just paranoid about everything.”

“You’re not paranoid, you’re just overly cautious. I know this and I love you.” Patton says, pressing a kiss on Virgil’s forehead.

“I love you too, Pat,” Virgil hesitates, “and that’s why I think you shouldn’t let me hold you back.”

“You could never hold me back,” Patton pouts, and really how does he expect Virgil to handle this level of positivity? It’s too much for his small feline body.

“What I mean is, if you want to go for it, go for it. And if it turns out to be some sort of con, then you can just, like, hex ‘em or something.”

“Like Bart Fischley in fifth grade?” Patton asks, stifling a giggle.

“Sure.”

Patton nods measuredly, scratching that magical spot between Virgil’s ears. Really, totally unfair. Virgil leans into it, purring louder.

“Hey, do you still want to watch Nightmare before Christmas?”

“That depends...do I still get as many treats as I want?” 

“Of course! But for tonight only!” Patton tells him. Virgil smirks as best he can--for it’s something he’s heard numerous times before.

The moon’s eye turns away the dingy apartment, clouds drawing a curtain over her. The summer night is slowly drawing to a close, as has the midnight mischief. The mortals she is so fond of are safe within their dwelling. For the moment, all is well.

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #patton sanders #virgil sanders #moxiety #thomas sanders (character) #remy sanders #kat writes

[browniefox]

The Spectral Turnabout 3/?

Miles gets the truth of his ‘hallucinations’ revealed to him.

oOo

“Please, Edgeworth, let me help you.” Phoenix asked once more, a little quieter this time, a little more sure of the answer he was going to get. He was already knee-deep into the case. The dl-6 incident was dusted off. Phoenix’s single-minded focus had already locked onto this case, onto this murder, onto Miles’ innocence. 

The spirit that followed Miles’ had set her head on the table before him, less than an inch from touching the man’s hand, eyes flicking between Miles and Phoenix. She was sitting completely still, and Phoenix imagined if she was a living creature she’d be holding her breath. 

“... yes.” Miles said, almost more of a whisper than anything. Phoenix felt the weight of the case settle on him, officially under his responsibility. The spirit tipped her head back and howled with joy, jumping and hopping around in her excitement. She slipped through the wall dividing Miles and Phoenix and ran right into Phoenix, bowling him over with her force.

“Yes yes yes! Thank you thank you! I promise you won’t regret this, I promise! He’s innocent, I was with him all night, he’s innocent and I know it so don’t you worry, you’re doing the right thing!” The spirit cheered, giving Phoenix’s face a lick that definitely felt like being licked by a dog, and he had to wonder if normal people would see the slobber on his face or not. 

“Hey, yes, I am, and that’s great, but I need to talk to Edgeworth a bit more!” Phoenix did his best to gently nudge the spirit off, but she was big and heavy. Maya was over in a moment, grabbing the spirit from the back and lifting her off. The spirit made a sad noise, the wings on her head fluttering around. 

“You have to get him acquitted, okay? He’s innocent!” The spirit continued to insist.

“We will!” Maya promised. This made the spirit’s wings - both the set on her head and the set on her back - flutter about even more in joy and excitement, pushing away from Maya and flying through the wall again to rest her head exactly where it had been before, nice and close to Miles.

Miles. 

Who was still on the other side of the glass. 

Who must’ve just seen Phoenix fall backwards for no reason, talk to nobody, and then Maya perform some impressive mime of trying to lift something heavy that didn’t exist. 

Who was speechless staring at Phoenix and Maya, not blinking, maybe not breathing. 

“Ah, uh, you, your response,” Phoenix desperately fished for a way to explain what had just happened. 

“We’re practicing! For a show!” Maya said quickly, coming in clutch. 

“Did you hear, Miles? They believe me! They’re going to save you, you’ll be okay!” The spirit said. 

And then, Miles eyes darted down to the spirit, and a purple spectral energy began to come off of him. 

“Edgeworth?” Phoenix said slowly, cautiously, getting back to his feet and close to the glass again. Miles’ chest was moving quicker and quicker, moving up and down in great big movement that almost looked painful. The spirit touched her nose to Miles’ hand, such a small but very deliberate gesture. 

“You’re a spectral?” Maya asked, clearly as surprised as Phoenix. 

Miles’ shoulders shook, a chuckle escaping from his mouth, and then he was full-on laughing. The spirit made a pained noise and began to wrap herself around the man, just like Phoenix had seen her do during court; a position that now had a different meaning knowing that Miles was aware of it, let the spirit do so. The spectral energy rolled off of him in disjointed and randomly spiking waves`

“Edgeworth…?” Maya shuffled awkwardly. Miles' laughter petered out quickly, and it sounded more like coughing, like sobbing, but he wasn’t shedding any tears. One hand was raised up and just barely not touching the spirit who was trying so hard to comfort him. 

“Say it again,” Miles asked, no, he begged, “Ask me again.”

“Miles,” Phoenix let out a slow breath, “Are you a spectral?” Another dry chuckle forced its way out of Miles’ chest in a way that looked like it was against his will. 

“Y… yes, yes, I think I am. At least, that’s what Pess told me.” Miles said. He rubbed his face, making an effort to get himself under control again, and with the action his spectral energy crept back inside of him, hidden once more like it had never been there. It was a subtle difference, considering with the spirit draped over him, her own spectral color a match for his, it was almost impossible to tell them apart. 

“Mr. Edgeworth… are you okay?” Maya asked, brow furrowed in concern. 

“There’s… I have so many questions, but now isn’t the time, is it? I finally have answers literally right in front of me, and I can’t even reach out and grab them.” Yet another humorless laugh shook him, “When this is over, however it ends… tell me about this then. For now, take this. It’s a request for you to be my attorney.” 

Phoenix took it, not knowing what to say. He looked down at it, turning it over in his hands. Miles had come into the room with it in his hands, despite his insistence that he wouldn’t let Phoenix take his case. The thought made something swell in Phoenix’s chest, but the emotion was dampened by the entire exchange that had just happened.

“Miles-” Phoenix started.

And then the world shook, and anything he might’ve said was lost. 

 oOo

 “Spectral.” Miles repeated the word to himself. He’d committed the word to memory years and years ago, from the night that Pess had told him, but he’d never said it out loud since. Now, he rolled it over his tongue, acknowledging the way it sounded when said out loud. It was a word, a real word, with a definition and everything. A noun, a term to describe somebody like him that could see spirits and ghosts.

“I did tell you.” Pess reminded him.

He was lying on the bed in his cell, Pess’s head set on his chest. The meeting with Phoenix had been… quite something. There was the feeling of failure at having been unable to keep the man away from the DL-6 incident, then being shaken completely to his core by the sharp upheaval of his reality with the fact that he wasn’t, in fact, insane or hallucinating all these years, and then the great and final note of an earthquake more literally shaking Miles. He wasn’t aware of what he’d done in the moment, but when he came back to himself Phoenix and Maya were gone and the guard - who until then had stood quietly by the door, for all the world unaware of Miles’ and Phoenix’s meeting - was kneeling over him with concern on his face and had then taken Miles back to his cell. 

“Yes, you did.” Miles relented. The words were still a whisper, so deliberately quiet, and he wanted nothing more than to pet Pess and bury his face into her fur, but he wasn’t home. He only let himself acknowledge Pess when they were truly alone. Except… except she was real, she wasn’t a figment of his imagination. 

That didn’t change the fact that hardly anybody could see her, and they would think he was crazy if they found him talking to air. 

“When you get out of here, maybe they can tell you more about being a spectral.” Pess said, nuzzling Miles as she spoke.

“When I get out.” Miles wasn’t sure how much he believed that would be a thing. The evidence was against him. Then again, if Phoenix had demonstrated anything in his first three cases, wasn’t it that he could and would work against impossible odds? 

It was a shame, he thought, that you couldn’t really put a spirit on the witness stand. Pess, as always, had been with him the whole time, and she would vouch for him before a judge given the chance.

He wasn’t crazy.

Something in him hadn’t snapped irreparably that day in the elevator. 

Miles stopped as a thought occurred to him. If he wasn’t crazy, if his memory was indeed reliable… he always dreamed of that day, of the man attacking him dad, of throwing the gun and the sound of it going off.

If he wasn’t crazy, then that had really happened. And if it had really happened, then what if that bullet had been the one to hit his dad?

Miles gave in to digging a hand into Pess’s fur and she snuggled closer.

“Everything is going to be okay, Miles.” She said.

Miles wished he could believe that.

 oOo

  When it’s over, when it’s all over, Miles was left with a business card. 

He must’ve gotten it at some point when Phoenix had practically dragged him out of the courtroom, a big goofy grin on his face, Maya cheering behind them. Pess was literally howling with joy, flying circles around the group, which grew in number with Gumshoe, who had been waiting just outside for them. Miles wasn’t entirely sure he could name the emotion he was feeling at the time, but he knew it felt good, it felt fan-fucking-tastic to see the man who’d shaped him into the demon prosecutor killed his father convicted for the act. 

That was a few days ago, however. 

Now, Miles was standing outside of an office, holding a business card in his hand, looking from the address printed on it to the number on the door, over and over again and making sure he had it right.

Not that there was much question whether he was in the right place or not. The words ‘Wright & Co Law Offices’ were printed in clear white letters on the door.

Miles took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Pess shifted on her feet next to him, and Miles’ head did a weird flinching thing as he was conflicted on whether to look at her or let the years and years of practice doing specifically not that guide him. In the end, he didn’t look, but he did brush his fingers against the top of her head. He raised his other hand and knocked on the door. 

The door was answered by Phoenix himself. Instead of finding the man in the blue suit and pink tie he seemed to wear to every court session (Miles wondered if Phoenix even owned a second suit), Phoenix was dressed in a plain black tee shirt and baggy white pants with an indigo sash tied around his waist. There was the thinnest sheen of sweat on his brow, and he wasn’t wearing any shoes. It definitely wasn’t the attire one expected to find from someone at a law office, and Miles wasn’t sure what to say to that at first. Luckily, he didn’t have to as Phoenix spoke first. 

“Oh, Edgeworth! I didn’t expect you to drop by. You should’ve called ahead.” He said, blinking away his own surprise and then smiling simply. “Well, come on in. What can I help you with?”

Miles had never been inside of Phoenix’s office, but he was fairly sure it didn’t usually look like this. The main desk, chairs, and coffee table had been shoved to the edges of the room. Maya was standing in the center of the open area, wearing an outfit nearly identical to Phoenix’s with the exception of a purple sash instead of the blue. She had her finger pointed in the shape of a gun, her spectral energy condensed at the tip of it, and she fired it at Phoenix. 

Phoenix put a hand in front of him, his own indigo energy shaping into a shield. The little bullet harmless hit the shield with a little ‘pop’ sound. Maya grinned.

“Your reflexes are getting better.” She said approvingly. In response, Phoenix fired off his own little ball of a spectral energy, which Maya dodged with ease. Phoenix shook his head, but he was smiling, and turned back to Miles.

“Sorry, you wanted to talk about something.” 

“Yes,” Miles let himself look down at Pess this time, who gave him an encouraging nod, “I wanted you to tell me about being a s-spectral.” He silently cursed himself. For all the times he’d whispered the word out loud to himself, saying it to another person felt strange.

“Oh!” Phoenix binked, and his spectral energy spiked. 

“Really? You came at the perfect time!” Maya ran over, hands clapped together in excitement. “Nick and I are practicing right now!”

“Practicing?” Miles thought back to what he’d seen, of how Maya and Phoenix had done something with their spectral energy. He’d had no idea it was so moldable. 

“Yeah! You don’t become a spectral master by just sitting around.” Maya curved her fingers like claws, and the spectral energy pooled around it into a form like two bear paws. Phoenix rolled his eyes. “You can join us if you want.”

“I-I don’t-”

“We should!” Pess looked up at him, tail wagging hopefully, “They’ll know a whole lot more about this than I do.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not hard.” Phoenix promised.

It’d be so much easier to turn around now. To just walk back out the door, and stay the way he’d been most of his life.

But the easy way didn’t necessarily mean it was the better way.

“Okay.”

#pnat #paranatural #ace attorney #miles edgeworth #phoenix wright #maya fey #au #the spectral turnabout

[captainsolare]

What I See in You - An Asta One-shot

You leaned against a tree outside the hideout, reading a book you had bought on your last trip into town. The breeze rustled the leaves, a pleasant sound to your ears, and you took a chance to bask in the sunlight that seeped into the shade you sat in. Suddenly the sun on your face was blocked by a shadow and you opened your eyes to find Asta standing before you; you smiled, taking in the sight of your boyfriend. “Hey you, how was training?” You asked, lifting your book out of the way and patting your lap, a gesture for him to place his head there. “It was good,” he replied as he got situated, “Sorry if I get your lap all sweaty from my hair.” You smiled again, “No worries, nothing that a change of clothes won’t fix.” You resumed reading your book; this was a long standing tradition between the two of you, Asta would often take naps after training and what better place to do it while in your lap as you read? 

As you lost yourself in the story once more, Asta couldn’t help but smile as he watched you. “Hey Y/N?” he asked. “Hmm?” You murmured. “You know what I love about you?” His question made you stop reading and look at him, this was unexpected from Asta, he was always affectionate but he had never told you he loved you. “What do you love about me?” You asked cautiously, setting your book down. “All the colors of the rainbow.” He replied, an uncharacteristically serious look upon your face. You looked down at him, your face contorted in confusion. “What do you mean by that?” Asta sat up and shifted positions so that he was sitting across from you. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees and stared at you. “I meant exactly what I said, all the colors of the rainbow.” You just stared at him, dumbfounded. What could he possibly mean? He loved all the colors about you? That made no sense. Asta sensed that you were still confused so he thought for a moment about how to explain this to you. 

“Red is the way you’re so passionate about things.” He piped up after a while, “Like the other day, when you were arguing with Luck about him stealing your ice cream.” You cocked your head to the side, you hadn’t even known that Asta was anywhere around when that argument had occurred. 

“Orange is the way you motivate others. The other day I saw you giving Grey that pep-talk, and it inspired me too.” 

“Yellow is your optimistic outlook on life. You always look for the good in any situation, and any person. So many people see the world in a cynical way, and are so down about themselves and others, but not you. You always know how to make even the most cynical person smile.” 

“Green is the way that you make others feel safe. You radiate this peacefulness that just draws others to you. I think that’s what I fell in love with first; meeting you was like taking a breath of fresh air for the first time.” 

“Blue is your sense of integrity and responsibility. You are both so spontaneous and cautious at the same time, and you stick to your morals. Which is inspiring, because some people can really rattle the cage on that stuff sometimes. Plus, it’s the color of that ribbon you always wear in your hair, so I sort of associate it with you.” 

“Indigo is your strength. You’re so strong, both physically and emotionally. I bet you could even give the captain a run for his money.” 

“And violet is your compassion. I’ve never seen someone with a heart like yours, just radiating love. Love for me, love for our squad, love for your friends. Your fierce love of chocolate ice cream, your quiet love of books, the way you care for us when we’re sick or injured, in everything you do.” 

His words made you feel all stirred up inside and you didn’t know whether to laugh with joy or bawl your eyes out; No one had loved you like this before. No one had taken the time like this, told you what you couldn’t see about yourself, and so you began to cry. “Hey, hey, look at me.” He said. You looked up through teary eyes and he grinned. “So yeah, those are the things I love about you, all the colors of the rainbow, just like I said. You don’t have to say it back right now, I know other people haven’t treated you right in the past, but” Asta paused for a moment too long and you gave him a questioning glance, “But I want to be your future.” He finished, and you choked back tears again, he was right, you couldn’t say the words yet, but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel it. You reached forward, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze, and that was good enough.

#asta oneshot #black clover x reader #asta x reader #black clover writing blog #fluff #aurora borealis