Tumgik
#how to write amnesia
willowser · 11 months
Text
okay i know everyone hates amnesia fics but can you imagine sitting in a hospital bed, being visited every day by bakugou sourpuss katsuki 🥺 and he has to go through the terrible painful process of making you fall in love with him AGAIN ??? like, he feels lucky enough that it happened the first time !!! now he has to do it all over ??
and can you imagine asking him to explain it to you, what you were to each other 🥺 and he has big sad eyes and lil pink cheeks and he tells you hesitant and gruff, "we—fuckin' love each other. you're it for me 'n i think...i hope i was it for you."
SAD. GOODBYE. SCREAMING.
416 notes · View notes
the-ace-with-spades · 8 months
Text
Another unhinged buddie fic idea - amnesia Eddie at his best and dumbest
So Eddie gets hurt, hits his head, is unconscious for like two weeks and when he finally wakes up, he thinks it's 2018, he's almost finishing fire academy and his parents are still saying he should let them take Chris away permanently.
To say he panics is an understatement — his muscles are weak after the lack of stimuli but he still puts a fight with the nurse that's trying to take his blood pressure.
He keeps on asking about where he is and where is Chris, only gets a you're in Cedars Sinai MC in Los Angeles and doesn't take for answer anything that tells him to stay still or to be careful with the IV, until the nurse says, "Your partner is right outside, I'm sure he's arranged something for your son."
He freezes. "My partner? I don't have a partner. Who is taking care of my kid?"
The nurse's face changes and there are suddenly more and more questions about what he remembers last, what year he thinks is, and does he remember his partner's name. He tells her - he fell asleep in his bed, 2018, he doesn't have a partner because he's been separated from his wife for a few years now.
Apparently, the year is 2023, he was on a call with his fire crew and got hurt, his partner is definitely his partner because he's his power of attorney, next of kin, and has been taking care of his kid.
So the nurse leaves to talk to the doctor and his partner who is still outside, with said doctor.
(Eddie doesn't know that but the nurse was either absolutely sure this is what Buck is because there are assumptions and there are legal medical documents or she is sure this is the mythical firefighters' bond and they're just very close work partners - your pick. Either way, Eddie thinks she means romantic life partner.)
Meanwhile, Eddie goes through all stages of grief because his apparent partner he acquired in the past five years is a he and apparently such a sure thing he's in all of Eddie's medical documents.
A guy. What kind of a guy he would have to be for Eddie to choose him as his partner?
Then the nurse comes back with a very tall, very handsome guy built like a brick wall but also making a face that makes him look like an eager but sad golden retriever and—
Oh. That explains some stuff. If just looking at him makes Eddie feel like it, then he can't even phantom what being with him feels like.
The guy stops mid-room, not going for a hug like Eddie expected him to. "Heard you don't remember me."
And he sounds so sad that Eddie reaches his hand out and the guy — his partner — is instantly at his side, gripping his hand, and Eddie doesn't let him go until he gets the point and pulls a chair closer and sits with him.
"I don't. So a name would be nice."
"Buck. Well, Evan Buckley, but everyone calls me Buck."
And like, Eddie's never been big for pet names but even in this short moment Buck seems so bright he wants to call him mi sol. "I call you Buck?"
Buck chuckles. "Yeah, you call me Buck. Unless you're really serious, then you call me, you call me Evan."
"Evan," he tests out. "Sounds like you're in trouble."
And Buck smiles at him so softly Eddie is melting in that bed, warmth hitting him where he's still holding Buck's hand hostage and traveling up. "Not to me."
Bobby, who is apparently their captain — even though Eddie has a feeling like he's talking to his in-laws again the whole time he is there — brings Chris to the hospital and he's so big, already eleven, and so sassy with Eddie.
He's also very, very familiar with Buck, which calms him down - he talks about the funny sandwich cutters Buck's been using the whole time Eddie was in the hospital to cheer him up and tentatively admits how they slept in the same bed the first week because Chris had nightmares.
And even though his dad landed in the hospital — again, apparently? — Chris seems very, well, very well-adjusted to the situation at hand, even if Eddie can see he's being a bit clingy with both Eddie and Buck. Like the adults in his life are doing a good job at shielding him.
Buck is the one who has all the hard conversations with him, about Shanon, about his parents, about his abuela moving to Texas because of a whole pandemic, about the accident he had at work, and what will happen once he leaves the hospital.
It's really reassuring, that it's Buck telling him all that.
If he had any doubts about Buck being a very, very good and very, very close partner, all of it disappears when they go back home from the hospital.
His whole house has signs of Buck living their best lives in there — there are photos, cookbooks, cooking utensils Eddie doesn't even know the names of, Buck's clothes mixed in his wardrobe, cards from Chris for the both of them. It's very clear Buck is not only a big part of their life but also lives with them full-time, too.
He knows where everything in the kitchen is — "I have a system, Eddie" — and he knows where all Eddie's insurance paperwork is, knows the PINs to his phone, his cards and accounts, he knows all about Chris' medical needs. He knows how Eddie likes his coffee, how Chirs likes his toasts, which shaving cream Eddie likes, which toothbrush is Eddie's, which pair of shoes Eddie's only bought because they were on discount and never worn, which of Christopher's notebooks is the one for math.
He doesn't remember the past five years but he can't imagine not having Buck as his partner. Knowing he is there doesn't make him anxious like he thought it would — it makes him calm, settled.
So he's offended when the first night comes and Buck tries to bring spare blankets onto their couch. He wants him in their bed.
He gets that Buck is trying to give him space since Eddie doesn't really remember all the years they've been together, but that's a bit much. They're partners, and pretty solid ones at that, not just a new couple figuring stuff out, they must have slept together a million times.
So Eddie tells him to go off the couch and sleep in bed with him. It takes some convincing but eventually, Buck agrees. They lie down, Buck is being unnecessarily awkward, turning his back on Eddie in the dark. Eddie is not having this — turns towards him and spoons him, holding him in his arms. He's pretty sure Eddie getting hurt and forgetting five years is stressful on Buck, too, even if he doesn't show it. He deserves the comfort of his partner, even if said partner doesn't remember all of their life together.
It happens again the night after, and the night after that, until Buck stops tensing up whenever Eddie wraps his arms around him.
Because Eddie was unconscious for so long, he still needs PT, and Buck somehow manages to arrange that Eddie's and Chris' PT is at the same time and Buck oscillates between staying with either of them for the duration. There's one time when the receptionist at the therapy center asks him why he comes in so often when he looks fine — she's flirting with him, Eddie knows, which makes him glare at her, and Buck just tells her, "I'm just the chauffer for my boys." And Eddie calms down.
They assessed him at the hospital and he's supposed to have someone's handheld assistance or use a stick or a frame when he walks, until the PT gets his legs to the state from before. Using either the stick or the frame makes him feel like an old man, and the feeling doubles when Buck, the hunk of a man that he is, is nearby, so he refuses to use it when Buck is around. Which ends with Buck helping him around by placing an arm around his back and holding his hand with the other whenever Eddie needs to move.
Which is an absolutely amazing feeling because Buck is both the gentlest of giants, always knowing when Eddie needs reassurance and so freaking fit and big, Eddie can just rest against his chest whenever he feels wobbly or needs comfort from the embarrassment. It's a very contrasting feeling because it makes Eddie want to be held and pecked all over his face and thrown into the wall to make out.
Eddie's physical fitness improves and he misses Buck's touch the second his therapist says he can start moving without assistance.
That's the only problem Eddie has — Buck refuses to touch him. Again, he knows it's a bit weird with Eddie not remembering. At first, he thought it was just Buck giving him the lead on how much he wants them to do but then Buck keeps on ducking out any time Eddie initiates something.
He goes in for a kiss when Buck is drinking coffee and he dodges, standing up before Eddie can try again. Eddie gives Chris a kiss goodbye and goes to give Buck one, where he's standing next to their kid, and Buck skips out the door, telling him he's going to start the AC in the car. He tries to curl up against his side on the couch and Buck gets up with an excuse of making popcorn or tea or anything else possible. When Eddie slips into the shower while Buck is brushing his teeth, he leaves the bathroom with the toothbrush still in hand. Buck pretends to be asleep when he kisses his neck and swats Eddie's hands off when he moves them under his t-shirt when they're spooning, always calls out Eddie in the dark, like he isn't sure Eddie is comprehending what he's doing.
(Buck is pretty sure Eddie is trying to kill him — just make him have a heart attack or something — even if not deliberately. He isn't suspecting a thing about Eddie's partners assumption.)
It's like Eddie has a partner that loves him but without the bits that are funny. Like, he thought life-affirming sex is a thing and he is cleared for physical activity now and still out of work and going stir-crazy.
He doesn't get it and he can't talk about this with Buck because it almost feels like Buck is rejecting him, every time he ducks away from Eddie's affection or doesn't reciprocate it.
"Buck is—He loves me, right? He hasn't stopped after the accident, he's—He finds me attractive, he wants me, right?"
(Hen, sweet Hen, thinks he figured out Buck is in love with him now that he has a bit of an outsider perspective, and mutters, "Oh boy," cursing in her head because it's too early for this conversation. She isn't even suspecting Eddie heard partners once and ran wild with it.)
"I don't see where you're going with this," Hen says diplomatically.
"It's just, he's not doing anything about it," he explains. "It feels like he's barely touching me."
Hen is freaking out because of all times, Eddie had to realize now—"Do you... want him to touch you?"
"Have you seen him?" Eddie asks and then frowns. "Oh, right, playing for a different team."
"You just had a brain injury," she points out, hoping Eddie will find his brain somewhere, actually, and think.
"It's been almost two months, the doctors say I'm fine, memories aside," he says stubbornly.
"Eddie, I don't think Buck is going to make any first moves when you don't remember the past five years you guys—" She needs to change the track because she's saying too much. "Why don't you just talk to him about it?"
"And say what? Please bend me over our kitchen table? Please shower with me? Please give me kisses goodbye? Please hold me at night?"
"You probably should start with something more...tame," Hen suggests.
He's tried tame — he's tried initiating kisses and hugs and Buck doesn't respond. It's like he is afraid to touch him and Eddie isn't made of glass.
He needs to do something drastic.
So at night, he waits for Buck to come to bed, lights dimmed, and when Buck pulls the covers away to slide into bed with him, Eddie is naked — he can't be more blunt, if this flies over Buck's head, he'll be worried.
"Oh my god," Buck keeps on repeating, not looking at Eddie, blindly trying to put the covers over Eddie.
"Oh, come on, I can't be more obvious," he complains. "Why can't you just touch me, Evan?"
He's taking deep breaths, not looking at Eddie at all and this is the opposite of what he aimed for. "You don't want me, Eddie, you don't even know me."
"I definitely want you," he protests, irritated. He knows what he wants, it's Buck who's been missing the signals right and left. "And I know you, you're my partner, my Buck—I know you want this, too."
It's the truth — when he thinks Eddie can't notice, he looks at him like Eddie is everything he could ask for. He wants him to look at him like that now, too. He knows Buck, even if memories aren't there.
"We're not doing anything until you get your memories back and you actually know who I am."
"What if I never get my memories back?"
Buck doesn't reply and for a second Eddie think he got him, but then Buck stands up from the bed and says, "I think I should move out."
"What?" Eddie protests because that's definitely not what he was aiming for. Buck's place is with them, even if things in their relationship are a bit dry or stilled. "And where exactly would you go?"
"I do actually have my own place, you know?"
And how Eddie was supposed to know? He lives with them. He should not have a back-up place to go.
"I think I'm sending you mixed signals and you obviously don't remember enough to interpret them with clarity in your head," he tells Eddie and leaves.
He actually leaves the house, too, no matter how much he's asking to just sit down and listen to him. He spends the night trashing from side to side, expecting Buck to be back any moment but never getting him back.
(Meanwhile, Buck doesn't go to the loft because everything is dusty in there since he's moved into Eddie's place when he had to take care of Chris when he was still unconscious. Instead, he goes to Maddie's and complains to her over a glass of wine, aiming to stay on her couch overnight. "You didn't see him, Maddie, he was just lying there like a starfish, completely naked, going all, now you can touch me all you want—" and Chim wakes up Jee with how hard he drops the pans he was pretending to clean while eavesdropping.)
Buck comes back in the morning to take Chris to school — he doesn't offer Eddie to take him together and they don't talk at all.
Eddie needs to talk to someone about this because he might have somehow ruined the relationship with the man he's pretty sure he'd like to marry one day. By wanting him to touch him, of all things. But everyone is at work.
Pepa is retired, though. The problem is, Eddie isn't about to tell her Buck had threatened to move out because Eddie wanted him to fuck him.
So he asks the more appropriate question, "Why are we not married yet, actually?"
Maybe if they were married, Buck wouldn't have some secret place to escape. Maybe he'd feel like he can touch Eddie because Eddie is his on paper, too.
Pepa gives him a look that says he's crazy. "Who?"
"Buck and I, obviously." Forget crazy, Pepa stares at him like he's insane. "What? Does Buck—not want to get married? Did I say anything about this to you?"
"Mijo," she says, sounding like it pains her to do so. "You and Buck are not—you're not together, Eddie."
Eddie laughs because that's—that's not possible, they're partners, Buck's been taking care of him and Chris since Eddie woke up, and long, long before that even if Eddie doesn't remember it. He's Eddie's power of attorney and next of kin and he's in Eddie's will, he's all but a step away from adopting Chris, knows all of Chris' and Eddie's medical history, their allergies, their likes and dislikes. He's Eddie's partner.
Pepa is not laughing, just looking at him with that pitying expression on her face,
"But—he loves me, he loves Chris, he loves us," he says dumbly.
"Believe me, I know, we all know," she says. "We've tried stirring you in the right way but you're very stubborn, mijo."
268 notes · View notes
daffi-990 · 6 months
Text
Fuck it Friday
I’m so close to the finish line on The Lightning Amnesia Fic, literally just have to write a few paragraphs that will link scene A (domestic family time) to scene B (sexy times for the boys), but words and ideas are not flowing.
Anyway … here is some Buckley-Diaz family domesticity (this is set the next day/night after Buck gets his memories back)
Even though Buck does most of the cooking when he’s over, preparing dinner is a family affair. Chris loves helping Buck in the kitchen, whether it’s chopping vegetables or stirring sauce. Eddie often finds himself stopping his task to just watch them exist together, tonight being no exception. He doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have someone in his life who not only loves him, but also loves his son. Buck literally battled against a tsunami for Chris, not stopping until he was safe in Eddie’s arms. It’s that kind of devotion that had him writing Buck into his will, and had him falling in love. Because Buck doesn’t just love Chris, he loves him like he’s his own, and Eddie hopes that someday soon they can make that official.
“Eddie? You okay?” Buck’s voice cuts through his musings and he looks over to see both Buck and Chris staring at him.
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, I’m okay. Just spaced out a little”
Buck turns back to the stove and stirs the filling for their sloppy joe’s before setting it to a simmer. “What’s got you spacing out?”
“Was just thinking about how lucky I am. I’ve got the best kid and the best boyfriend —”
Buck ducks his head, cheeks turning a soft pink, while Chris rolls his eyes dramatically. “Ugh dad, gross”
Eddie throws his hands up in defense, “What?! I didn’t even do anything!”
Chris levels his dad with his signature unamused preteen stare, “Tell that to your heart eyes”
“My heart eyes?” He scrunches his nose and turns to Buck for help, only to be met with soft blue eyes and a sympathetic smile.
“You do have heart eyes”
“What? What does that even mean?”
“And right in front of my salad too” Chris looks down at the half made salad in front of him, then slides his gaze over to Buck before they both dissolve into a fit of laughter.
Eddie throws his hands up in exasperation, “I’ll never understand the two of you”, which just makes them laugh harder. This, Eddie thinks, this right here is home. The three of them cooking dinner together as a family, their kid making jokes at their expense, laughter a melody on the air. He walks up behind Buck, ruffling Chris’s hair as he passes by, and wraps his arms around Buck’s middle, placing a kiss to the back of his neck before nuzzling in close. He feels Buck melt back into his embrace, one hand coming to rest on top of his own, the other reaching up to the side of Eddie’s head to run through hair. Eddie lets out a satisfied hum, lips finding purchase on the underside of Buck’s jaw.
“I’m still here you know”
No pressure tagging: @callaplums @callmenewbie @captain-hen @cowboy-buck @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddiediaztho @fortheloveofbuddie @forthewolves @glorious-spoon @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @messyhairdiaz @prettyboybuckley @rainbow-nerdss @rewritetheending @spotsandsocks @shitouttabuck @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @wikiangela @wildlife4life @hoodie-buck @homerforsure @fiona-fififi and anyone else who wants to share something from a fic they’re working on ☺️
76 notes · View notes
strawberrywindow · 2 months
Text
there's something so haunting about the ghouls of amnesia with how 'hunger' is so associated with them. mainly because of how they were left behind after the other world fell. because it's not like they're ACTUALLY hungry for flesh
(or at least that's how it seems given the bodies left behind in areas they inhabit like the fortress or bunker)
"Hyena maybe, but damn big one...didn't finish its meal..."
any bites taken out of people seem to be solely to cause further pain and torment in order to maximize vitae potential, with vitae being the essence the ghouls/harvesters are ACTUALLY 'hungry' for
"They were trying to help, but they saw my face, and I could taste their fear."
once that supply of vitae (being allowed to hunt) ended after the fall of zerzura it's unsettling to think of how long they've just been left with that insatiable hunger for something they're unlikely to ever receive again. ignoring the rare occasions people stumble across their nesting grounds and such.
idk, when it comes to monsters they make me very sad. former humans, with varying degrees of self left, endlessly starving, doomed to be these predatory creatures for...however long it takes ghouls to die without vitae? ouch. my heart. 😢😢😢
38 notes · View notes
Text
Sooo…here’s an idea that’s been driving me up the wall. and here I am purging it from the folds of my brain:  50 first dates Ghostsoap (& Reader) (sort of)???
(blame @ceilidho and the ghostsoap x reader asks on her blog)
Ghost never does things halfway, so when he injures himself? It's bad. He takes a few weeks to wake up...but he's not himself when he wakes up. He's not anyone. A complete blank slate.
And Soap is forced to just watch. There's no brute-forcing Simon's memory to return, no hard rebooting the brain. It is what is, the doctors say. We have to let his mind heal in its own time.
So Soap continues to watch. He does as the doctors tell him to; he takes off the ring on Simon's finger, wears it around his neck with his own. He pretends to be a friend, a comrade, a subordinate, and on some days they even flirt, and it's like Soap has his Simon back again. If only until sundown.
But there are other days when Simon is in pain so acute, so encompassing that he doesn't leave his bed. Even with no memory of his past life, Simon is tougher than he needs to be; unnaturally quiet despite the pain, and the door to his room on base stays firmly shut. It's on these days that Soap sits outside Simon's room with his head in his hands, digs crescent moons in his palms from how hard he clenches his fists, waits.
You get a unique perspective on the whole thing as it unfolds before your eyes - you were the field medic that saved Ghost's life, after all. You dragged him to safety. You stabilised him while Soap protected the two of you with his life.
But...you're also something different in the equation now. You comfort Soap when he needs it - providing both, a shoulder to cry on and a decent challenge when he wants to spar. He isolates himself from everyone who tries to help him...except you. He's bonded to you in a way neither of you can explain, and he allows you access to Simon and himself in a way everyone else is firmly denied.
And it changes you.
He talks to you about the relationship he used to have with Simon, and you imagine yourself as the third. He talks about dinners they used to cook together and you imagine yourself there, on the couch, smiling to yourself while they bicker. Soap tells you about Simon's hesitance to meet Soap's family, and you're there, your thumb running gently over Simon's knuckles while you wait for the Mactavish front door to swing open.
You fall in love with a version of them that doesn't exist anymore.
You worry that it never ever will.
121 notes · View notes
Note
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH
So, what's your prediction for how it ends? Because my expectations have been broken
Heeeey, I knew I wanted to put tiny drabble I had in my head to words for this one but couldn't decide on how many rebukable details I wanted it to have to the point of just debating waiting until the 11th, but than I got a sudden new year's burst of motivation so I drew and wrote something vague at last!!
[281 words]
☆-–-–-–-–-–-•-–-–-–-–-–-◇
Nine did expect a ripple of energy to surge through him and snatch his consciousness along as the Prism was fixed and finally seated in its rightful place. At this point he was fine with that really, maybe even grateful.
What he expected less was cold stone beneath his head that pulsed with a headache and weak control returning to his limbs.
Soft red ambient light sat upon stone walls that slowly registered to Nine's blurry vision and for a second he believed he was back in New Yoke. That he, or someone, perhaps hit his head and then left him lying on the concrete, that everything in his recent memory was just a very weird and long-winded dream.
That theory had a couple of holes in it however, as it would be highly improbable for the Eggforcers to just leave him lying there for Chaos knows how long disrupting their precious "order" and two, the source of the red glow doesn't seem to poisonous be neon lights of the city but...him instead?
With a pained grunt and some struggle Nine managed to sit up and collect himself just enough to stare at his own hand and legs, which appeared translucent and glowing red, for some reason, familiar shades of red.
Tumblr media
The second he let his bewilderment about his state fall he looked around and up, taking a note of a fallen scrap of an eggforcer and a long stone bridge connecting two rocky platforms high above.
So, still in the Prism cave then. Most likely got flung off the platform and into a ditch while hitting his head, but than, did putting the shards together not work out after all?
25 notes · View notes
borealnyx · 4 months
Text
And the day was saved by the power of
Transgenderism🌸💖
52 notes · View notes
Text
It's amazing sometimes how a character can haunt the narrative while still being completely alive
*cough* Blackbeard *cough*
28 notes · View notes
applesjuice · 9 days
Text
Chapter 3 of Where Falling Stars Live is now live!
Heads up for she/her pronouns used for Kieran going forwards (for now), they're AFAB in this and just fell from the sky. Gonna take a bit to get that head back on their shoulders to speak up about things. But nobody is malicious about any misgendering, if the doctor says it's a girl who are they to argue? Especially when said girl just rolls with it.
Nobody who matters is really going to care when they inevitably speak up about a preference; the clans in particular have some religious thoughts about gender. Their framework for "gender roles" are based off of the roles of their deities, aka the nobles. So Pearl Clan for example holds Lady Sneasler up as an ideal example of true womanhood lmao. They have traditions of converted gender so as long as you are performing your duties sufficiently expected of that role then it's whatever so long as you're useful.
Plus Akari (Kieran) is young and doing some sacred tasks like quelling their nobles. Kid's practically as shaman in their eyes, very folklore hero coded, they can be whatever they want and look cute while doing it too.
12 notes · View notes
randomwriteronline · 11 days
Text
"Pohatu - fancy seeing you here."
Nokama smiles a little more when the Toa turns to her. He sits slightly hunched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea, powerful legs swinging idly in the emptiness that divides the rocky wall from a plummet into the ocean, completely unafraid; the unusual shape of his Kakama Nuva greets her wordlessly.
"I hope I did not bother you," she continues gently: "You seem so caught up in your thoughts, these days..."
A comfortable silence follows the pause she allows to hang.
For a moment a sense of dread creeps along her spine, around her arms, ensnaring her neck: Pohatu, whose voice rattles the mountains, stares at her eerily quiet with a terrifyingly blank gaze and a lack of emotion in his expression.
But he blinks, and his eyes widen, and he says: "What?" as he leans his head forward. "I'm sorry Turaga, I was not listening."
She exhales, amused, as the broken tension allows her shoulders to sag a little: "I only mentioned that you seem very distracted as of late - even during Vakama's tales."
"Ah," he replies with a slightly embarrassed laugh: "I guess my head likes to be in Lewa's domain far more than my feet do in Onua's."
Nokama laughs with him: "May I?" she asks.
He gestures to his side amiably, inviting her to sit with him: "Of course, of course."
It's surprising how little he's worried. Even her head starts to spin from vertigo when she dares to look down at the swirling waters, and she is the furthest thing from the infamous Po-Matoran hydrophobia; yet he sits there without the barest hint of concern despite knowing very well he would sink to the depths of the ocean horribly easily.
Pohatu looks again to the horizon.
He's unusually unreadable.
"I've spoken with the Mahi of Po-Koro, on one of my visits," she tells him - her Rau's abilities have already been unmasked by now, so it's less strange than it could be - "They've told me you quite love to pamper them, more than the Hapaka."
His laugh vibrates out of him, but she notices he does not smile as wide as the sound would imply when he simply shrugs: "I like horns."
They've told her that, too.
"What troubles you, Toa of Stone?"
He glances back at her: "Nothing."
"Yet your mind is so often elsewhere, and you almost don't look like yourself. I've come to know you, Pohatu - I wish to help, if I can."
Nokama's gentle worry makes him sigh deeply: "You're as good a teacher as Toa Lhikan thought, Turaga," he replies with a heavy tone. "Very attentive."
She looks to her feet: "Vhisola was proof otherwise," she mutters.
Pohatu tilts his head: "Then it just means you've gotten better."
The Turaga smiles: "You're always too kind."
He does not reply to that.
His fingers sink into the stone of the precipice to rip a chunk out of the cliff like it's nothing; he tosses the rock from palm to palm absentmindedly, neck craned back to look at the sky.
"I'm just thinking of Po-Metru."
Curiosity, then. "It's only natural," she soothes him: "Your siblings wonder about Metru Nui too. Gali has asked me about Ga-Metru and the Great Temple quite a lot in the past few days. I'm certain Onewa will not be too shy to answer your questions."
She watches him pull one knee up to lean his chin on it: "I don't have many, to be honest - not about the city."
"Really?"
A shrug: "Turaga Vakama is very good at descriptions."
"Ah... Yes, he is, isn't he."
The Toa does not smile back at her; he keeps looking further away into the endless sky, as if to pull on the rest of the ocean with his mind until the other side of the island appears on the horizon.
"What is it, then?" Nokama nudges him. "What doubts take hold of your focus?"
He does not answer immediately.
The rock falls back in his hand perfectly each time he juggles it.
He does so halfheartedly, distractedly - in the same way he sits at the Amaja circle and looks at her brother speak as though he could see right past him, through him.
"The Matoran come from there," he finally says.
She nods.
At last, his strange nearly impersonal gaze returns upon her mask.
"Do you know where we come from?"
It takes her a moment to understand who he speaks of: "You come from the canisters," she answers, because that is nothing if the truth. "You come from the sea."
"The sea bears life - the sea bore us," he says under his breath at that, as though he is repeating a memory. It sounds a lot like Gali.
She nods: "That is as much as we Turaga know."
"And nothing else?" he insists. His words don't hold any desperation, but there is something in them she can't explain with any other term. "Did we have anything before that?"
"No, nothing. Nothing that we know of."
"You were Matoran. You became Toa. Do you not remember us?"
"No - you were never in Metru Nui. We never could have met you there, not even as Matoran."
"It remains we must have been Matoran. Isn't that right?"
His tone is... It strikes her enough to make her stagger before she can offer a response.
He sounds like...
He sounds like them, in a way.
He sounds like he is testing her - to see if he can trigger a specific reaction from her.
His tone is somewhat methodical, scientific, like a researcher interrogating a subject to observe the effects of whatever he's administered them; it is that of calculated questions that one already knows the answer to. His mask is unreadable, incomprehensible - not for a blank anonimity but instead an overwhelming amount of minuscule tells and signs that muddle the waters of his emotions, obscuring them within their own cacophonic confusion.
If only she too knew the answer.
If only (she assumes) he had not forgotten it.
"I imagine as much," Nokama finally replies. "But you six are special, Pohatu."
"You were chosen by Mata Nui himself," he interrupts her. The kindness in his voice is nearly an afterthought, but he masks that fact well. "I would say you too are not necessarily as ordinary a bunch as any Gukko flock might be in Le-Wahi."
She chuckles despite the strange atmosphere: "Oh," and then she laughs, and she laughs some more, bent over herself to try and stifle the giggles that bubble in her chest, "Oh, be careful not to say that in front of Tamaru or Kongu, lest you want a very angry lecture on how the Gukko force is so very different from their wild siblings."
Pohatu's smile is lukewarm.
The Turaga recomposes herself quickly when she takes in his lack of amusement: "But you are different," she insists. "You are something more than what we were or could have hoped to be."
"That sort of thing doesn't spring out of the ocean from nowhere."
"That sort of thing is what legends and prophecies are made of. Your arrival was foretold in stars that cannot be rewritten; you came to aid us, delivered upon our shores by the elements themselves; you battled against the Great Spirit's most insidious, terrible enemies, and defeated them. You are special. And perhaps you had no need of a Toa Stone to become who you are."
The reply she gets is a silent stare.
The rock creaks from within the Toa's grip.
If she were looking at it she'd notice the liquid manner it behaves.
"It's a sad idea," he finally says, "To be born only to fight."
The Toa protect, for that is their duty; the Matoran create, for that is their destiny.
Her hand lays on his arm with a kind, humid pressure.
"I may very well be wrong," Nokama reassures him now. "I've told you, not even we Turaga know much."
"You know prophecies."
"Those can only get us so far. And they can't see the past."
"I wish they could," Pohatu says with a focused gaze.
His eyes are locked onto her own.
"I will pray the Great Spirit to bring you answers soon, Toa of Stone," she promises - because what else can she do? How else can she reply to the perfectly still stare that seems to pass through her, carving holes within her head with the precision of a sculptor? "So that you and your siblings will never have to feel as you do now again."
He does not move.
Then, at last, his head tilts with a tired, relieved smile.
"Thank you, Turaga," he tells her earnestly. "I hope so too."
Nokama grins back at him, so gentle, so sweet - so glad that the disquieting spell is over and the Toa is once again fully himself.
She raises herself from her seat with a bit of a struggle, helped upright by his powerful arm. Another burst of vertigo makes her sway for a moment as she catches sight of the long fall into the waters, head feeling light before she imperiously shakes the sensation out of it: there is nothing to fear, the cliff won't fall. Even Pohatu has gone back to swinging his legs in the nothingness with the carefree movements of a Matoran dangling from a jungle vine, and if he is not afraid then she has no reason to be either.
He does not move to follow her.
"I shall return to Ga-Koro now," she tells him: "Soon enough we'll have to carry the boats to Kini Nui, and I ought to make sure they're nearing completion."
"Call Taipu when you need to move them, if my brother is too busy listening to stories - I'm sure he'll be happy to help," he suggests.
Her smile confirms that his poison is mistaken for a lighthearted jab: "A good idea. I will ask Whenua to send him to us, if he is not busy enough already and wishes to lend us a hand. You should be off too, listening to stories like your siblings, should you not?"
Head thrown back and legs stiffened, the Toa whines like an annoyed child: "But Turaga," he exaggerates his whimpering drawl to kick a laugh out of her shoulders, "I don't wanna!"
"Neither do I want to go fetch Nixie out of her observatory for the eleventh time today, but duty call us all the same."
He huffs and pouts dejectedly as his body slumps on himself in a comical manner; his furrowed brow clears into a simple smile as Nokama hiccups chuckle after chuckle at his stellar performance.
"There's still a little while," he bargains with her.
"And will you be at Kini Nui on time?"
"Am I ever late?"
No, she can't argue with that. Her eyes shine with affection as she lays them on him again.
"Alright," she pretends to concede with a sigh, as though she were doing him a big favor. His grin amuses her to no end. "But make sure to be there."
He places a hand on his heartlight: "I will be."
"And try to focus, as best as you can."
"I will try my hardest. I just need to clear my head a little more, and then I'll be the most captive audience Turaga Vakama has ever had."
"I'm certain you will. I hope the sea brings you solace, Pohatu."
"Thank you, Turaga. Goodbye."
She does not see his cheerfulness drop in an instant as soon as her back tells him she will not turn to look at him again, smile flattening, eyelids drooping, eyes hardening. He watches her until she disappears from view with a face devoid of love and a sizzling in his heartlight that almost makes him feel sick; the stone in his hand squeezes through his fingers like putty, slithers between them, takes a slug-like shape as it coils around his digits squirming like a worm emerging from a fresh tomb into a summer downpour, before he lets it collects itself in his palm once more.
He crushes it gently and looks down only when he opens his palm again. It looks like a Kane-Ra bull. He tries again: this one is a Makika. A Fikou. A Dikapi. A Tunnel Stalker. A Husi. A Fusa.
A Turaga with their mask shattered.
Without a word he presses the rock with both hands to somewhat shape it back into a proper sphere, carefully, taking his time.
He kicks it as far into the ocean as he can. His eyes follow its trajectory until the distance turns it far too small for him to distinguish it against the flickering gleams of the waves in which it no doubt sinks. He continues to look at the calm waters, legs swinging idly much like branches in a light breeze.
The sea bears life, Gali said; the sea bore us.
Pohatu looks into the cradle of his siblings' rebirth thoughtlessly, quietly, hating it as much as he hates them for not swallowing them whole.
15 notes · View notes
noscomnias · 7 months
Text
and if i said mikoto t2 innocent. then what
39 notes · View notes
daffi-990 · 6 months
Text
Fuck it Friday
Tagged by @wikiangela. Thank you lovely 🥰
The words are not flowing today, it’s like pulling teeth. Which is getting me all down because I want, no need to finish the angsty part of this fic. But ahhhhh I’m finding it so hard to write certain parts 😩.
Anyway, here’s some Eddie alone with Buck in the hospital room after Chris snuck in to visit (Hen is a good friend and knew Eddie needed a moment so is taking Chris to the gift shop).
Obviously from The Lightning Amnesia Fic because it is constantly consuming my thoughts.
The room falls quiet as Hen closes the door behind her, the only noise the machines keeping Buck alive.
Hesitantly, Eddie steps closer to Buck.
He looks so small right now, so young. There’s a five o’clock shadow painting his jaw and Eddie’s hand twitches, wanting to reach out and run his fingers over it, to feel the coarse hair on his fingertips. Not even two days ago he’d used his tongue to trace that jawline, marveling at all the noises it drew from Buck’s lips.
He moves to the bed and takes a seat on the edge by Buck’s hip. Reaching out, he carefully curls a hand around Buck’s wrist, fingers on his pulse, feeling his heartbeat. The touch, the subtle thump thump thump of Buck’s heart is comforting. A reminder that he is alive.
“Hey sweetheart,” he delicately strokes his thumb along the skin above Buck’s wrist, “you gave us all quite a scare there for a minute. Well, 3 minutes and 17 seconds, but who’s counting?” He huffs at his lame attempt to use humour to lighten the mood, knows that it would’ve received a fond eye roll from Buck. “God I miss you. I miss you so much.”
Eddie abandons Buck’s pulse to take his cold hand in between his own, bringing it up to his lips and placing a kiss to Buck's knuckles. “Don’t leave me, Buck,” he whispers into their hands, “Don’t leave and go where I can’t follow.” His breaths begin to come in short, ragged gasps, tears stinging his eyes like shards of glass. He bows his head to rest upon their clasped hands as the reality of the situation overwhelms him. “I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to do this without you. Please don’t make me”.
He feels like he’s drowning in an ocean of anguish, lost among the waves and current, trying desperately to reach the surface but not knowing which way is up. He wants to break free of the water, to be able to breathe without feeling the hollow ache of not having Buck by his side.
No pressure tagging: @callmenewbie @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @exhuastedpigeon @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddiediaztho @fortheloveofbuddie @forthewolves @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @hippolotamus @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @monsterrae1 @messyhairdiaz @princessfbi @rainbow-nerdss @rewritetheending @spotsandsocks @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to join in 🙂
77 notes · View notes
radioactivepeasant · 7 months
Text
Fic Prompts: Snippet Wednesday
This is technically part of the overarching Sons of Spargus universe, set between Jak 3 and Jak X. It's just an outline right now of a short horror fic with the working title Lightless Deep, featuring Jak being placed in command of a fairly doomed expedition into a sunken Precursor city similar to the one in TPL.
The inscription on the wall was deep, but crude. Not engraved, like most Precursor artifacts, but scratched or hammered into the metal of the torn bulkhead. Done quickly, and by the look of it, desperately. One of the monks traced his fingers over it and nodded solemnly.
"It is a warning against those who dwell in darkness," he said.
Jak curled his lip. "It's grafitti," he scoffed, "And that's not what it says."
The monk started to retort before remembering who he was speaking to. "With...respect, young prince," Resh said through gritted teeth, with anything but respect, "The Precursor language has been my area of expertise for decades."
Jak was nonplussed. "Yeah, and you people write your subjects before your predicates." He shrugged. "Old school Precurian text is the other way around."
He decided not to mention that this was why he could barely do more than write his name in the modern parlance. Instead he lifted his light a little higher and decided to show off. Just a little.
"It says "Come not near me, o you Pale One, from your depths where you lie dreaming."
Something nudged at the back of his mind like a half forgotten warning. Jak shook the creeping sensation off.
"Go down and be buried in the lightless deep, and be confounded by shadows for eternity.""
Daxter shuddered and drew his vest a little closer around him. "You know you two probably activated some ancient curse, right?"
27 notes · View notes
looking at my loose outline for Inklings and how bad the theology is going to be and just going well time to get jiggy with it!
28 notes · View notes
poisonousquinzel · 3 months
Text
Thinking about how likely it is that BTAS Ivy grew old n spent all of that time fully believing that Harley died. That despite all her efforts and desperation to save her and get her away from Joker she didn't, she couldn't, and she lost her. That Harley died the same day that wretched man did and it became just yet another thing linking her to him for eternity.
thinking about how BTAS Ivy loved her So much and never got the chance to grow old with her, to see her heal and recover, to heal and recover with her
thinking about how much they deserved their happy ending but never got one. how we're seeing & getting their Less Platonic moments in the newer BTAS comics with the impending knowledge that the narrative has already decided it's a fate they'll never truly get to indulge in and savor, that it will always be destined to end in tragedy.
how for some universes a happy ending is given, growing old together is just the future we know is already there awaiting them... but not for them, not for btas harlivy... not the originals, for their story will always be a tragedy.
Tumblr media
16 notes · View notes
altruistic-meme · 9 months
Text
me: *existing*
my brain: hey heres another fic idea!!! and another!!!! oh wouldn't it be so cool if you wrote this??? wouldn't you LOVE to plan this fic out??? you should definitely plan this one, i promise you don't even have to write it ;) [<- is lying, knows that i'll want to write it even more if i plan it]
33 notes · View notes