#i changed the color of their limbs bc i didn’t like it

[dewdroppdraws]

Hi I’m new to tumblr so I’m not sure how you normally post on here but I wanted to try posting some sketches of earth from tsams! I’m not the best with anatomy so I won’t lie I did trace over some photos (REAL PHOTOS NOT ART) I found on Pinterest and modified the proportions to fit my design, but I’m trying to improve lol. For now I just rlly wanted to flesh out my design for earth which I couldn’t do while my anatomy looked like crap 😭 all the full body ones I used references for but the one in the right corner was all me so I’ve got that to my name at least 💪 I’ll include my “reference” pictures as well :> and below the pics is an explanation of the design because I love to gush about this kind of thing. Fair warning, it’s pretty long LMAO

Hehe now it’s time for me to gush about my lil design 😈

So the first major difference you probably noticed (aside from body shape) is the very fluffy clothing I have her in. The leg warmers and… fingerless gloves? Leg warmers that she put on her arms? Idk what the arm ones are called but yk what I’m talking about lol. When I first noticed earths little rainbow headband my brain immediately said “80’s workout videos”. The big hair, the rainbow headband, it just immediately jumped ot at me and stuck. I decided to give her oversized leg warmers in that same rainbow pattern because it made me sad that her actual design doesn’t have the rainbow anywhere else. It’s funky and I like it what can I say.

Next I decided I really wanted her to wear thigh-highs. I personally love thigh-highs and also it gave me an excuse not to think about her leg mechanics. I tend to draw Sun and Moon like ball joint dolls, but it gets a lil funky to draw when they are bending their limbs so having a fluffy excuse to hide them was ideal lol. I decided to go with the bold choice of putting thigh highs and leg warmers on her, which I don’t regret even tho it probably seems like a lot. I might change a few things about her later down the line since these were just basic sketches so don’t worry if you hate it.

I gave her shorts because a skirt just didn’t feel right for her. I feel like a daycare attendant would be very active, even if earth tends to sit with the quieter kids, and a skirt would be very awkward to climb around in. I figured shorts would be good. I drew them like jean shorts since that was the original intention but they could be cloth rather than denim gimme time to think about it 💀

I had a lot of trouble decided whether the thingies on her shoulders were stand-alone or like pieces of hair she keeps up front (probably attached cuz she’s a robot) I decided on making them attached to the bigger floor of hair cuz I thought it looked cutest on the pic with her shoulders up and in front of her face lol.

Onto her chest plate thing, I was considering making it an actual shirt but decided against it. I wanted her to have a crop top bc I love crop tops so I just made it so her chest area was painted like a shirt, and then her middle area was back to her “skin” color, so it’s almost like a crop top but not really…?

Last but not least is her face, I also made that her “skin” color and just put the blue and green as her cheeks! I thought it looked cutest that way. She also has heterochromia cuz when a character has two main colors I really enjoy putting them on opposite sides as often as possible haha. So her green cheek has her blue eye and her blue cheek has her green eye. I know her original model has two blue eyes but this was what I went with.

Anyways that was super long and I’m super nervous about posting this so I’m just gonna hit post and if I find a typo or decide my lil explanation was 4 paragraphs too many I’ll fix it later. Have a nice day whoever is still reading this! :>

#digital art #artwork #procreate #tsams earth #sams earth #art #fanart #the sun and moon show #sun and moon show #sketches #sketch

[driftingvoid-155]

Hello there do you have any scoop to Michael head cannons?

Hi! Oh boy, where do I even begin lol. I really love scooped Mike and over time have a few different ideas for how remnant actually effected him.

One is that after being scooped and possessed by the funtimes, he actually is in no way alive, but is in fact a ghost haunting his own corpse. He possessed some of the metal left behind by Ennard in him so like the animatronics, his body is now more of a shell than actually him. However, he still has to take care of it bc he’s still stuck there. None of the injuries heal leading him to have to spend a lot of time sewing himself back together, especially since the threads don’t last forever and sometimes end up snapping if he doesn’t replace them in time (I also love thinking tho he changes the colors of them based on holidays so for example, around christmas he’ll do green and red. Kind of just learns to have a little fun with it after a while bc the rest is very much not fun). Granted on the bright side, if one of his limbs do end up falling off, he can just reattach it and is still able to move it after. Unfortunately his ghostly status does not keep his body from rotting and he tries using everything from perfumes, body spray, febreeze and car trees to keep himself smelling decent. He usually piles the layers of clothes on to help hide the fact he’s technically a decaying corpse. The remnant in him helps to slow the process a little and keep his body in sort of a stasis but least to say, by time fnaf 6 rolls around, there’s not much of him left leaving him content with staying with the others in the fire bc he doesn’t know how long he would last otherwise.

Another version is that after Ennard left, the leftover remnant in him actually did work to heal him. It had already started seeing as when Ennard goes to leave, they no longer could using the same entrance due to the hole in his stomach now being closed. However, it’s a really slow process and actually takes a few years to complete as it first has to fix internal damage like regrowing organs before moving onto external damage like his half rotted skin. Injecting more remnant would technically make it go faster but something he’s reluctant to actually do seeing where it comes from.

Just some miscellaneous hcs:

The scooper actually didn’t remove all his organs. It ripped a hole in him but the main removal happened but Ennard making its way in and punching everything else out.

He can’t eat anything but he can chew gum leading to him always having a pack on him.

When Ennard left, it actually only took the pieces worth that contained the actual consciousnesses of the AI leaving quite a bit of metal behind in Mike.

His voice has a more metallic tone to it after.

When Ennard first possessed him, it pushed out his eyes in order to replace them with their own, leaving him temporarily blinded.

Sometimes he can still hear the funtimes arguing in his mind and has to take a second to remind himself that it’s not real and that they’re gone.

I feel like I could go on about this forever but I’ll end it off here. I’ve written about a few of these before but there’s so much more I would love to write about and explore more in the future. I love thinking up new ideas around scooped Mike and thank you for giving me the chance to ramble a bit about it here :)

#answered asks #scooped michael

[justaz]

Saw your posy about your fic with the aliens that sound too similar to minions. I think you just gotta add details that pull it away from the first gut instinct to visualize a minion.

Like, are they humanoid or are they more reptile/bird like? Or a different mammal? Do they have sharp teeth? Do they have hair, fur, feathers, scales, something else or a combination? Are they a prey or predator species? This will affect things like the placement of the eyes at the front or sides of the head. These details add physical additions that minions don't have and help distance the race from those little guys.

We can also describe more of how their colouring is different as well to change our mental image. For example, are they varying shades of yellow? Are they yellow because it's a natural camouflage for the planet? Are they completely yellow or do they have a gradient from the limbs inward or a completely different coloured stomach? Are they yellow mainly due to mating reasons as yellow was the most attractive colour of this species causing most of the population to end up a shade of yellow over time. I mean so long as they aren't literally entirely one shade of yellow all over then it's less likely to be a minion.

Finally the additional clothes, technology, and societal norms will change our perception again. Like are they highly advanced or in the beginning stages of their technology. If its just figuring things out the clothes will likely be more hand made and simple if not simply woven together directly from the planet itself or taken off the back of an animal. If it's advanced go nuts, who knows what people wear in the future. And is it a highly modest society covering everything up or more accepting of their bodies with skimpy clothes or even none at all? Is it a cold planet, moderate, or a hot planet because that will also affect the styles of dress the aliens have. Literally so long as they aren't all wearing goggles and Jean overalls and sometimes lab coats (this is all I really remember the minions wearing) you'll once again make these aliens seem unique.

Anyways, point is you don't have to redesign your aliens for your fic, you just need to ask yourself a whole bunch of questions as to why they look the way they do and then describe them in your fic to the point that we get a better mental image of what your aliens look like to the point that we won't even think of anything else they could resemble. You don't need to go overboard and write 5 paragraphs in one go as soon as they show up in your story but you can add at least one of each of these categories to your initial description to start off and then as the story progresses you can weave in more details about the alien's world and specific characteristics of specific alien characters your main cast meet with to eventually add more depth tk your species overall.

In any case, sorry to dump literally all of this on you over a quick funny blurb about your situation, but I hope this helps. I just really love world building and character species creation and figured that you shouldn't have to give up the ones you have right now due to a tiny bit of common description. I hope to read your story soon, anyway, and wish you good luck with your writing!

omg HAHA thank you, i appreciate this and will definitely consult this on any world building i have to do in future writing but in the context of what i was writing, it was a short passage of the characters passing a few aliens that rlly didn’t play a role in the scene AND the character i was focusing on was kinda panicked and didn’t rlly give a shit about who was around so it was a super vague description

i am kinda proud of myself bc i DID think of a few of these questions on my own. they live in the desert part of the planet so their coloring was for camouflage (and i edited it to add that they vary in shade, from dark brown to pale yellow) and i did give them lightweight robes, not unlike what you see people wearing in like the middle east. i did add extra arms and modified their noses to a kind of flap that opens and closes on command over just a couple holes in their face so their “noses” don’t protrude and solid black eyes

hopefully that gets rid of the minion visual LMAO

#i do appreciate this and will definitely use this in the future #i also love world building and appreciate any insight/help w it #i find the freedom in literally building a world from nothing titty-lating #THANK YOU MWAH MWAH

[damn-stark]

I know

Sakuna x reader

A/N- Hope you guys like it it :)

Requested by anon “İ love your work btw!!! Anyways!!! I don't want to tire you... Maybe a scenario of Sukuna protecting his s/o?! Maybe she got badly injured and she took control over yuji's body bc yuji doesn't have the power to protect her 😅😅”

Warning-talks of blood, injury, fluff.

———-

“Damn, damn, damn,” you mutter in anguish under your breath.

Blood pours out of your wounds where your hands once were and pain circulates throughout all your limbs. You want to stand up and fight, help your friends fight the special grade curse, but the moment you try to stand up, the pain riddles you weak and has you dropping back to the floor.

“Damn,” you groan again.

“Miss, L/N! It’s okay I won’t let them get to you!” Yuji shouts to you over his shoulder. He continues by lifting his hands to get ready to fight, but you could tell the cursed spirit would beat him to the first move, and Yuji was too weak to hold his ground now.

He’d die if he got hit.

Knowing that makes you struggle to get yourself up to your knees, to try and use all the strength you could muster to get him out the way, but all you could was create a spark and muster words to try and stop him since your body was too weak to do anything else.

“Yuji don’t!” You try to throw your hand out, but nothing is past your wrist. “You’ll—”

Before you could utter more, you cut yourself off as you watched how Yuji suddenly stopped the strong curse that was hurled his way. You blink to try and see if maybe you were somehow hallucinating from the exhaustion and pain, but after realization hits you, you can’t deny the fact that the bright blue curse stopped in midair.

And you knew that the action would be impossible with his weakened state. So now you wondered how he suddenly did it.

“What?” You part your lips in surprise, “Yuji?”

“Try again,” he answered in a deeper and more huskier voice, slowly turning his head to show not him, but the person contained inside.

“Sakuna,” you gasp softly as you blink repeatedly again, before you roam your eyes all over his face to see each recognizable mark and see him also tug the corner of his lips into a mischievous smirk.

“It was beginning to hurt seeing you fail so miserably,” he teased, “love. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to save you, again.”

You swallow thickly but manage to scoff out, “more like help. But whatever.”

Without a second of hesitation, he turns back around and begins to fight the cursed spirit, creating bright colored explosions as the fight brewed on. A fight that didn’t last long as Sakuna used his powers to expel the spirit, ending with the room in silence as you knew he was gloating in his easy win.

“A thousand years alive and you still need my help,” Sakuna remarked with a snicker as he turned on his heels to face you. “It’s a good thing I’m here again. You still need me like the first day we met.”

You roll your eyes and sit back down on your ass, looking down at your wounds as he strode towards you. “The boy,” you changed the subject, “you’ll heal him.”

“If you ask nicely,” he rebutteled as he crouched down to meet your gaze. “But I’ll heal you first.” Sakuna reaches for you but you pull away, making him tilt his head while he exhales deeply. “You’re still as stubborn as ever. I thought a thousand years would help that.”

“I could say the same about you.” You huff out before you slide your eyes to look back at him and repeat what you first told him. “Help Yuji first.”

Sakuna’s eyes narrow on you as he debates actually listening to your demands, letting you keep your own eyes on him to admire their color, the way that no matter what body he was in you'd recognize his eyes and see the man that you had fallen in love with a thousand years ago. Just like you also knew he wouldn’t reject you.

“Fine, I’ll heal the brat,” Sakuna grumbles, tearing his eyes away from you to begin to heal the visible wounds contained on Yuji’s body. “Happy now?” He sarcastically queried.

You scoff softly but smile as you nod. “Yes.” You try to reach for his cheek but he moves his head away.

“No, it’s not my face.”

“The markings on your face say otherwise,” you say while he grabs your arms and uses a more unknown technique to slowly heal your wounds. “Your eyes also tell me that it’s you, Sakuna.”

Said man shakes his head, “my spirit is my own. But this is the body of a teenage boy. So don’t touch this face like if it were mine. Not until it is.”

At his sly comment you sigh and want to argue against him, but you don’t have the energy or the time, you knew that. Instead you let the comment pass and bask in what short time he has left to talk while he heals the injuries you had endured.

“Thank you,” you tell him, “for helping me.”

“I always will,” he assures you as he meets your gaze, “no matter how different we are, I’ll just help you.”

Your lips tug into a small smile and just as you want to add more, he cuts you off before you could. “I feel the brat wanting to get out, I healed your major injuries, I know you can do the rest.”

“Sakuna,” you whisper.

He stands up and meets your gaze for one last time to interject with two words you had learned meant much more. “I know.”

He looks away and slowly the markings on his face disappear to let Yuji return.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen sakuna #sakuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk sakuna #Sakuna fanfiction #ryomen Sakuna fanfiction #ryomen Sakuna imagines #ryomen Sakuna imagine #ryomen Sakuna x reader #Sakuna imagines #Sakuna imagine #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #requests #fanfic

[hugthepanda12]

Hi, so I saw an amv about Chase and at one point they briefly show the moment where he’s being “tortured” by having water drip on his head and his abs painted mustard yellow. I presume that the water dripping is a reference to Chinese water torture but I’m absolutely confused about what the stomach painting could mean. Thoughts? I like your blog ☺️

Ah, yes. TAT arc. Oh boy, there are many things to unpack in the ‘heylins’ prison cell’ scene. Let's dwell into this.

It is evident that Wuya, Bean and Chase are put in chains or other types of constraint. They used to be powerful beings, so no wonder tat!jack took into consideration the possibility that they might at least try to escape at some point. However, Chase seems to be trapped in a machine which stranded him completely.

Hannibal is put in the cage, while Wuya is hanged by the handcuffs on the wall. Yes, they indeed are in a bad situation, but Chase is the only one being actively tortured.

You are right, Chase is the victim of the Chinese Water Torture. But there is more! Bloodstains on the floor? His limbs being stretched??? (simply torture rack -modern version but this one is only my assumption) Ouch, everything about this image is worrisome. And look at his hair! Undoubtedly, it is shorter. Jack frickin Spicer has cut mighty Chase Young’s hair. And as we know, in China cutting hair is regarded as a punishment or humiliation.

What is more, I think, getting rid of his armor was a way to make Chase uncomfortable. Who knows? Maybe it is a personal vendetta for that one time a tiger interrupted boy’s bath session and dragged almost-naked Jack in front of Chase and (ghost!)Wuya (dangerous minds ep)?

And finally, the last element of the elaborate humiliating puzzle set up by the new Prince of Darkness Jack Spicer – the brush that helps spread a yellowish liquid on Chase’s torso.

My first guess – that’s Lao Mang Long Soup. Jack holds a grudge towards his ex-partners in crime so big, he wouldn’t care to visit them tbh. Jackbots handle feeding the prisoners, although the immortality soup is a separate case.

I reconsidered the following thing: is drinking the soup the only way for the body to take advantage of its miraculous effects? Can it be absorbed through the skin? What if Jack found out the answer to the latter question? And that answer is: yes, it can be absorbed through the skin but it would take a veeery long time for it to enter the digestive (and then the circulatory) system. As a consequence, the bearer of the soup curse would be weakened due to drinking less than it is needed but they would NOT die because the body receives small doses of Lao Mang Long.

Therefore, Chase has his stomach painted only to keep him alive for a while, that is, until The Prince of Darkness gets bored. But it is unlikely to happen mostly because the Heylins are like trophies to Jack.

So, this was my take on that mustard yellow substance. It could make sense because the show didn’t give us any specifics on how Lao Mang Long works except for the following factors: changes you into a monster, increases strength and thinking immortality deal.

However, I refuted this little theory of mine when I read the Tumblr post about the TAT timeline. Someone suggested that in the USA yellow stands for cowardice and in such a way Jack keeps reminding Chase that he is a coward. (in such moments I really want to know what the hell happened in those 80 something years bc WOW JACK that is a pretty thought-through scheme right there). Additionally, as I recall, the soup was more greenish rather than yellow, so it can’t be Lao Mang Long (unless Jack added a yellow pigment or sth)

Coming back to the symbolism of the yellow color, in the western culture the phrase “yellow-bellied”—a term for those who are cowardly—may have originated from chickens (“Don’t be a chicken”) and the rich yellow of their egg yolk, as this site reports. And well, it makes sense because it is so Jack to do the chicken dance to make his enemies angry.

On the other hand, some may argue that XS show has many references taken from the Chinese culture, that is why the Chinese meaning of the color yellow should be taken into consideration.

In China Yellow is a royal color. It symbolizes imperiality, the power of the throne, and prosperity. As a result, yellow is associated with Emperor or Buddhism (temples having yellow elements, etc)

What if Chase is an Emperor of the Heylin side? He used to be the big bad and even Jack’s evil hero. Maybe Jack by that belly painting meant something like:

‘Hey, you were on the top, now I am! You should’ve taken me as an apprentice but NO! You were always looking down on me and look where it got you! Your empire is mine. But, y’know that little part of me still respects you, so here, have some yellow paint! Oh, and sorry about the hair I was angry at you xoxo'

So, in short, Jack honored Chase’s past accomplishments as the former Heylin King but implemented it as a kind of torture as well. Because, I guess, due to its repetitive nature (this brush goes on and on without stopping) I bet it has similar effects as the water torture.

Still, how I see it, the ambiguity about the meaning of the color yellow is something Jack would love. As we know, the boy genius pays attention to details. For me, Jack at this point of his life as an old man considers Chase as both hero and a coward, so he simply mixed the meanings of Chinese and western culture to show how smart he is.

Mind you, that the other Heylins are being mocked by Jack too. Hannibal Roy Bean has been renamed the Musical Fruit and Wuya wears an outfit of one of Jack’s cheerleaderbot. I wonder if it’s because she made fun of those girl-robots or the fact Wuya kept cheering and motivating Jack to hunt more and more wus for her, treating him like trash afterward. Oh, and Jack has cut her hair, too. ;u;

All things considered, the appearance of the Heylins is the proof that Jack punished them in the most sadistic way possible and Chase got an extra set of humiliating tortures because Jack’s resentment towards the warlord was so big, the genius had to design something „special” to show who is in charge now. And he wanted it to be personal.

#ask #xiaolin showdown #chase young #time after time part 1 #jack spicer #roseangel19 #Jack Spicer being a competent manipulative bastard mastermind and giving people what they deserve? yes please but also NO #coz this is scary i don't want him to be a monster :(

[uwuwriting]

Soulmates w/ Dabi, Shirakumo and Keigo

Request: Hello! I just read a few of your writings &I'd just like to say they're amazing! Anyways, may I request some hc's for a soulmate AU w/ Dabi, Shirakumo, & Hawks?(all separate)- anonymous

Soulmate Aus have a shit ton of tropes so I went for a different trope on each boy bc I love them all. My man Dabi has dipped the last few chapters and I’m getting kinda deprived, although I appreciate him not burning my baby Shoto to a crisp so we good. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: angst with some fluff

 Dabi/Todoroki Touya II Interchangeable eye color

-Dabi’s outlook on love is really negative. 

-Growing up the way he did and in the environment he did, the possibilities in him believing or cherishing love and soulmates was low. 

-When he got his soulmate sign he was around 12. 

-It was the darkest moments of his life and he hated himself to no end. 

-When he woke up on that fateful Sunday morning he thought that he was hallucinating. 

-Then he imagined that this could be an after affect of his trauma, just like his hair. 

-His mind though drifted to his soulmate. 

 -He didn’t have a mark up until now and your eye color changing was one of the many soulmate signs out there. 

-As he stared at his left eye, the e/c orb staring back at him, he began to cry. 

-Sobs wracked his body as he clutched his eye. 

-This was unfair. 

-He shouldn’t have a soulmate, what good could he be to anyone?

-He is a failure and he is gonna bring down his soulmate as well. 

-So he hides it. 

-Puts a patch over his eye to conceal the new color blooming around his iris and when his family starts questioning it he buys contacts. 

-Natsuo helps him even though he doesn’t understand why his brother doesn’t want a soulmate. 

-Years pass until he finally meets the person that has changed his life. 

-Shigaraki was being a brat as usual, whining about needing new members for his little group. 

-Dabi couldn’t care less.

-This  whole charade with these losers would only aid him reach his ultimate goal. 

-He didn’t care about Shigaraki’s shitty ideologies and otherworldly desires, he just wanted his revenge. 

-His eyes scanned the so-called hide out in utter boredom, his gaze landing once again at the bar’s door left slightly ajar in case someone came looking. 

-He didn’t expect for the door to open though. 

-And as the grease old door creaked open a figure stepped into the room, clad in black from head to toe. 

-A mask was covering half of your face leaving only your eyes visible. 

-You scanned the place before your eyes landed swiftly on him, knocking the breath out of him as you locked gazes, e/c orbs baring into his own. 

-The vibrant blue on your left eye had him gasping for air. 

-It was stunning. 

-You moved to talk to Shigaraki, your voice albeit monotone and cold, sent tingles up his spine making his hairs stand at attention. 

-His eyes were glued on you, one of his hands subconsciously going to the left side of his face where his mark should be visible.

-It felt as if his contact burned his eye and he quickly took it off, not minding about possible infections since he didn’t wash his hands before touching his eYE DAMMIT YA NASTY AF. 

-His body was drawn to you, his mind screaming at him to talk to you to go close to you. 

-You knew he was your soulmate. 

-You had known the moment you stepped into the bar; no one had such a beautiful blue hue in their eyes other than your soulmate. 

-Despite your mutual desire to be close to each other you  held off for months. 

-Months of keeping distance, months of giving each other the cold shoulder. 

-It would all reach a tipping point soon and Dabi would finally understand what it’s like to truly love someone. 

-Until then though, suffer in your mutual pining. 

Shirakumo Oboro II Red string of Fate

-The string around his pinky finger always lay motionless for years. 

-It was slack and lifeless, no sign of his soulmate being remotely alive. 

-It really worried him, he thought that he might be one of the few unfortunate individuals who didn’t have a soulmate. 

-He talked to his friends about it and they all reassured him that his soulmate was just too far away from him so even if they tugged at the string he wouldn’t be able to feel it. 

-This reassured him all throughout middle school. 

-He started getting a little discouraged when he saw all his classmates getting their soulmate signs whether it be names tattooed on their wrists, one of their eyes changing color or a strand of their hair, other could hear faint music if they concentrated hard enough while others were unfortunate enough to feel their soulmate’s pain. 

-Shirakumo was left staring at the red string surrounding his finger. 

-He had thought about tugging at it, making the first step instead of waiting for the person on the receiving end.  

-But on this day, the day when both Aizawa and Hizashi got their respective signs he found himself tugging at the string. 

-At first he pulled lightly watching the string grow taught slowly and then go slack again. 

-He waited for what felt like a century before tugging again and again, more force being put in his pulls every time. 

-After an hour of waiting and tugging he was done. 

-Eyes downcast with a frown on his lips, he was ready to let this whole soulmate thing go. 

-At the end of the day he doesn’t need the universe to tell him who he should fall in love with; who he is destined to be with. 

-Then he felt it. 

-The lightest tug at his finger. 

-His eyes followed the red string as it straightened a few times before going limb again. 

-Aizawa walked in on him pulling the string like crazy, excited giggles leaving his lips when his soulmate responded with their own pulls. 

- “Shota I did it. T-they answered!”

-This whole string communication business lasted until the first day of high school. 

-As Oboro walked through the halls of UA he felt the string shift on his finger. 

-It was as if it was wrapping tighter around his finger, almost to the point that it hurt. 

-Maybe he was about to meet his soulmate that’s why the string was thinning. 

-Wait, meet them??

-He wasn’t ready to meet them!!!

-What if they didn’t like him? What if his hair was a bit too cloudy for their likes? Oh god his hair must be a mess because he flew here. Maybe he can dash into one of the bathrooms and fix it real quick. Will he be too loud for them? What-

-Lost in his own thoughts he completely missed the person standing in front of him and soon he was crashing into them, a small grunt leaving his lips as he maneuvered himself to cushion their fall. 

- “Oh God I’m so sorry, I was totally zoned out. Are you alright?” 

- “Why are you apologizing? I ran into you.” 

-He let out a chuckle as you scrambled off of him, dusting off your skirt before offering him a hand. 

-As he took it he felt his pinky being released from the pressure. 

-Right before your eyes you witnessed the red string that connected you both unwrap for your fingers, illuminating for a moment before completely disappearing leaving a sense of familiarity and warmth in its wake. 

-You both stared wide eyed at each other before awkwardly introducing yourselves. 

-It didn’t take long for you two to actually fall in love and if you’re being honest it’s was so easy to fall for him that you believed that even if you weren’t soulmates you would have loved him. 

-Even after years, even after that fateful summer, the sense of his presence and his warmth never left you; it was as if he wasn’t gone and he was still somewhere out there. 

-You were half wrong in that one….I think. 

Takami Keigo/Hawks II Name tattoos

-He got his tattoo when he was 13. 

-It had really awful timing if he was being honest. 

-The hero commission was isolating him completely, even from the few friends he had made around the facility he trained in.

-He couldn’t even begin to imagine what they might do if they find out he had a soulmate. 

-He truly wished he had a different soulmate sign or no soulmate at all. 

-He did everything in his willpower to hide the calligraphy of your name on his left wrist. 

-Bandaging it up, covering it with a watch even scribbling over it like he used to do when he was 9 and bored. 

-But at some point it became harder to hide it, harder to conceal the beautiful name that was printed on his wrist. 

-So he confided in someone. 

-One of the caretakers at the commission had taken him under their wing ever since he was a wittle toddler, he trusted them with his life. 

-When he approached them frantically grasping his wrist in attempts to hide the letters, they were both delighted and saddened. 

-It was nice knowing that this poor child had someone out there that was meant for him and would make him happy, replace every single one of these awful memories with new ones.

-Memories he would like looking back to. 

-But just like Hawks himself they knew that the commission wouldn’t allow this person to get involved with him, at any costs and they knew how far these people could go in order to guarantee Hawks’s undivided concentration. 

-So they helped him; they bought him some make up to cover it up and taught him how to apply it correctly. 

-By the time he was out of the hands of the commission *at least not in close reach* no one apart from them knew of his soulmate’s name. 

- “Now listen here Keigo, I want you to take good care of them when you finally meet them. And never forget that you deserve nice things, don’t let anyone take your happiness away.” 

-He did find his happiness. 

-It didn’t happen right away but it did come sooner than he expected. 

-He had learned about the new transfer student who began attending UA in the middle of the year. 

-He never heard their name but he knew they existed. 

-Turns out they were quirkless but were determined to become a hero despite their shortcomings. 

-After a few months he bumped into them and oh lord his wings have never been puffier. 

-He was  relaxing on the roof, away from prying eyes and loud people, just him and the birds *he found his people at last*.

-When he heard the door open he almost leaped off the building but paused at the sound of a soft voice. 

- “Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t know someone was up here.” 

-Turning around he came face to face with the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes upon. 

-For the first time in his life he stumbled over his words, a swift ‘It’s alright’ escaping his lips and before he knew what he was doing he was inviting you to sit with him. 

- “Wow you can see everything from here.” 

- “The view is better up in the sky if you ask me.”

-After a long pause he added. “I could show you if you want.” 

- “How can I trust you? Hmmm?” you teased. “I don’t even know your name.” 

-He let out a chuckle before continuing. “Could say the same for you but since I’m a gentleman I will grace you with my name. I’m Keigo Takami or Hawks if you wanna go with my hero persona.” 

-He saw your eyes widen as you stared at him, your eyes darting to his covered wrists. 

-Quickly you composed yourself straightening your shirt and extending your hand, the black letters of his name delicately engraved on your smooth skin. 

- “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N L/N.”  

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​ @dnarez​ @storage11037​ @ezoyscorner​ @letscheereachotheron​ @wolfkid22​ @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses​ @threeamwriting​ @ysatrap​ @yashinosakura @belladonna-coven @angel6786​

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #Dabi #dabi my hero academia #bnha dabi #todoroki touya x reader #touya x you #touya x y/n #touya x reader #shirakumo oboro #shirakumo x reader #shirakumo x you #shirakumo x y/n #oboro x reader #mha shirakumo #shirakumo oboro x reader #hawks x reader #hawks x you #hawks x y/n #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami x you #keigo takami x y/n #keigo takami #my hero academia keigo takami #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n

[marahuyos]

"My ideals have no stains.

I must correct you. People here bear no sins in the eyes of the gods... Only laws and the Tribunal can judge someone.

They can judge even me. So praise my magnificence and purity."

In which the s/o of the ToT cast is the Hydro archon. (Part 1)

*:･ﾟ✧ YEET im back with a big piece this time! my mind has been juggling whether to make the mc a demon lawyer (may not be influenced by lucifer) or some other supernatural being but i ultimately decided on being the hydro archon bc continuity win?

anyway, obviously my views and personification of the hydro archon is based off of my point of view. it’s alright if you disagree with them, these are my hcs!

gn!reader

tw: genshin impact lore (guesswork of the hydro archon), luke story spoilers, reader has specified eye color, ghosting (luke), gun violence

The Age of Gods is over as deemed by a collective agreement amongst the archons. The Statues of the Seven have laid to rest with erosion, husks of old visions gone and shattered, and the age of humanity soon began to prosper. With the advancement of human technology, it was only fair that humans should be allowed to forge their own path, without the influence of the gods.

Sure, while the memories of Khaenri'ah are still fresh, a certain blonde traveler soon emptied the plains of Celestia had put a stop on their eternity and let humans choose how history will go.

Still, that didn't mean that the archons are obsolete. Some still walk Teyv-the Earth, disguised to be a part of human civilization and mingled with mortals, forgoing their old ways to be in touch with the earth.

You, on the other hand, were a thousand years too late to change. Stagnancy in waters is dangerous for somebody like you and yet you stuck to your ideals that the one true ideals is yours. If Mora-Zhongli stated that erosion will be the downfall of archons, then yours will be still waters infested with pests. In spite of all of this, you attempt to flush out the stagnant waters in hopes that you were able to change...

✧ MC/Rosa

• She'd be the last to know that you were an archon, even if she's read the history of archons way back when. You'd think that she would spot the ways that set you apart from others such as:         - The way you carry yourself as if you are the truth.         - How your eyes, so deep and blue like the ocean back at Nosta, seemed to churn with the deep ends of the sea when something or someone tests your ideals.         - How you seem to stick to your ideals so much as if they are the only things that mattered.

• She definitely knew it wasn't a case of ego or something amiss with you. You were perfectly healthy yet none of those things registered in her mind. Not even when during a heavy rainstorm, when she was still stuck inside the office building because of the downpour, that you showed up. The umbrella you had didn't stop the rain but if Rosa inspected closer, the water seemed to bounce back against your clothes as if you were repelling the rain.

• Yes. She's truly that dense.

• To be honest. Something major has to happen that it slaps Rosa in the face that she has an archon as a significant other. Such as, lets say, a trip to Nosta as an ongoing investigation. Another one of those obnoxious treasure hunters had began to scam her. Rosa can hold her ground well but not when the man's "magical treasure rod" suddenly becomes a weapon when he lost the debate.

• While she did take self-defense classes, she couldn't prepare herself for the assault. Without thinking, she shut her eyes and raised her arms to protect her head. But no pain followed through. Slowly, she opened her eyes and what she saw honestly wished she hadn’t done so-

• Seeing, at least she thinks, water shooting out from behind her as it wrapped around the assailant’s limbs and neck as he attempts to gasp for air. He dropped the fishing rod, hands clawing at the water tendrils but ultimately being in vain as they merely parted against the pressured torrent.

• She couldn’t move, at least, not until you appeared behind the man, hand outstretched as if your fingers were choking an invisible neck. Her breath stifled in her throat when she sees your hypnotic blue eyes turn into a ruthless deluge. If she hadn’t known any better, it looked like you were dead-set on killing the poor man.

• Having found control of herself again, she hurried to your side, hands clinging on your outstretched arm as she pried it down as hard as she could. “Please, stop! You’re gonna kill him!”

• You didn’t relent, fingers flexing harder as the man lets out a weak wheeze. “He attempted to hurt you. That’s enough to warrant a punishment such as this.”

• And then everything made sense; your weird affinity to water, how you carry yourself, this pride and ego that you so meticulously protect. Everything that transpired throughout your relationship flashed into her mind like a film and she had to kick herself for not noticing sooner.

• She said your name sternly. “Stop this. Or should I refer to you as the Hydro archon?”

• Your eyes widened, the deluge calming down as the muscles on your hand slackened. The water that was holding the man immediately disappeared, rendering him wet and a heaving mess. You sighed sharply through your nose, turning to Rosa. Her green eyes reminded you of the times you shared with the old Dendro Archon and you had to remember that this was the inevitability of an archon’s journey. They were no more, and you are the one left standing to try and salvage what was left of your ideals. If not for Rosa being there for you, being so supportive and nurturing as if she was a tree providing you shade, surely, you would’ve succumbed to stagnation.

• “I shouldn’t have kept it from you.” You said softly, eyes softening. “I meant to tell it to you here but... when that man tried to hit you I--”

• She gently took your hand that once choked the man to death. Your flinch was near imperceptible if not for the way Rosa clutched it gently as if it were a prized pearl. “I understand. I’m still in shock though... And hurt how you couldn’t trust me with something as big as this. But I’m sure you have your reasons and I respect them wholly.”

• Your eyes widened at her before sighing and bringing her closer for a hug. When she was close, Rosa could smell the sun and dewy forest smell on you because of the time you two spent searching for clues in the island. But underneath that earthy scent is the undeniable scent of the ocean; salty, with a hint of perfume that she bought for you and she had to suppress a giggle. Even if you were an all-powerful archon, you were still wrapped around her finger.

• “C’mon.” She said, moving her head so that she can see your blue eyes. “I’m sure the others will have a field day when we share the news. It’s not everyday my lover is an archon, right?”

✧ Luke Pearce

• The fourth suspect of you before Rosa. He has an inkling you were more than meets the eye but he ultimately throws that suspicion away because he trusts you wholly.

• But he keeps tabs on you without your knowledge. He knows its bad but can you blame him when he sees that you keep disappearing from him in certain intervals? He counts the certain number of days you were gone and he realizes that you leave him in a certain pattern. Your excuses vary but he ultimately deduces that you were seeing something or someone.

• The last one made his spine tingle with fear. Surely you weren’t, were you? Well, yes and no.

• You were seeing someone, just not in the way that Luke had assumed. As the old Hydro archon, you had multitudes of followers believing that your ideals were to be kept on a pedestal. Nothing would dare try to ruin them and as such, this egoistic mindset is what drove people into believing you were a vain god. While you couldn’t refute the claims that your ideals are as pure as snow, you knew how people has taken their idea of justice as their own. What was once a grand following towards the pure and ideal Hydro archon was now reduced to a measly cult full of people trying to find lost treasures of the archon.

• In the coastlines of Nosta, you and other “followers” of the ideology of the Hydro archon scattered inside a cave to find treasures pertaining to them. You weren’t particularly fond of physical remembrances, save for your rapier that history paired you with, so they were just finding something that never existed.

• It was clear that they were getting antsy, one of them kicking down rocks and kicking up water due to frustration. There were a total of 4 strangers hoping to witness a sliver of the Hydro archon’s ideology and judging from their labored breaths, it was clear they had been tricked.

• You had anticipated this, them turning on you for giving them hope that a treasure should be here. You merely crossed your arms and stated: “I merely stated there were remnants of the Hydro archon’s possessions here. I made no mention of your so-called ‘treasures’.”

• Feeling the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end, you uncrossed your arms, feet spread apart as you regarded the hostiles. They cornered you, each brandishing their own weapon in which you were sure were illegal with this being a part of Pax. You were going to lecture Marius once you get out of here. Before brandishing your sword, a gunshot rang out, and one of the assailants dropped down on the cavern floor.

• Looking at the mouth of the cavern, your eyes widened at the sight of Luke holding the pistol that Marius provided. You didn’t even need to look at the others to see that they were ready to kill Luke. He was too far and the guns were already raised and you didn’t trust him to dodge three people holding bullets.

• You didn’t do this, not ever since the last time the Traveler had desecrated your ideals, but the reality and environment around you collapsed. The domain you created was yours and yours alone, the pink lotus flowers swayed gently on the streams as all of the streams seemed to connect to you. This was something you picked up when you fought Ei a while back-after all, if she could stay there for eternity, you made this domain for your ideals to thrive.

• The bullets never fired, the assailants gasping and screaming at the scenery change. Without hesitation, you trapped them with your waters, the cage trapping them down as the lotus flowers floated away from the force. You turned to Luke, who looked just as flabbergasted as the assailants as you sucked in a breath. This was inevitable.

• Walking on water as the lotus flowers parted for you, you stood in front of Luke as you regarded him. “I know this isn’t what you were expecting.”

• He gulped, the hand gripping his gun turning a pale white as his eyes darted from your glowing eyes and glowing hair. “N-No kidding...”

• “I should’ve explained it to you sooner.” You said, voice echoing across your domain. “But I haven’t found the means to. And when I heard there were followers of-of mine coming here, I had to act quickly.”

• “So that’s why you came here...” He said softly. He pocketed his gun, knowing that there wasn’t any threat, and looked at you. You being an archon was way way off of his guesses. He took pride in solving cases and you were his favorite one (even though that sounds so wrong, he thinks to himself). As he looks at you, he can finally see the otherworldly aspects of you besides the glowing hair. How you stood as if you were above everyone else but saw him eye-to-eye, how you carried yourself helping investigations, your cold stare towards people you dislike (but they always warmed up when you were with him). Looking at your oceanic eyes, he can practically see the nervousness in them.

• He sighed out softly. “Well, it’s not like you haven’t changed at all, right? Why don’t you let us out of here and I’ll call Marius for illegal firearms? Besides, I’m curious on what being an archon is all like!”

#tears of themis #tears of themis imagines #tot #tot rosa #rosa imagines #rosa x reader #luke pearce #luke pearce x reader #luke pearce imagines #mara.works #genshin impact #hooooo fuck yeah finally this is done ive been putting this off for weeks

[cultgambles]

Nearly a Blip in Time

I love historical sukuna so here i am. Also i am lowkey so confused at his story. Like i know he was a sorcerer at one point in history but like when did he get all his arms?? BC according to the wiki he was killed and then became a cursed spirit and then his fingers were waxy (lol weird choice of word) ?? anyway, in this, hes not a people hes a monster.

He’s also OOC. first time writing for JJK, but i wanted something soft hehe. Reader bites the dust

Wc: 3033

Masterlist | Requests? open

“[Y/N], you can’t be serious. No way a person of your . . . stature . . . could research in depth about something as big as Ryomen Sukuna. In fact, I’d wager that you wouldn’t even get within 5 feet of his temple,” the local teacher scoffs, disbelief plain as day on his face.

“You wager? What if I do get within 5 feet, then? Will you take me in as your student?” You cross your arms, staring him down. “Do you accept the challenge? I mean, you said it to begin with.”

The scholar throws up a hand, blowing you off. “Fine, whatever. You have half a year to write an in-depth dissection of the demon lord Ryomen Sukuna, and you will report your findings back to me at this very hour once your time is up. I expect perfection.”

“And if I win?” You ask, writing down every word he has said.

“You won’t die.”

“And?” You shoot him an unamused glare.

“And I will take you in as a student. God curse your father for teaching you to read and write.”

“He knew it would be beneficial for me. Now, sign here so you don’t try to cheat your way out of this,” you thrust the wood block and paper attached towards him. The scholar grumbles, almost breaking the ink brush in the process of writing his signature.

You carefully tuck the contract under your arm and scurry off, not before telling him you’d be back.

His laughter echoes around you.

At home, your father was amazed and horrified to learn of this deal, but he knew nothing could stop you. You gave him one last hug for the time being and gathered what little belongings you had in a knapsack.

“Don’t worry, father, I’ll be back before you know it.” His warmth lingers on your person, seeping into your bones. You’ll miss this.

Sukuna’s temple isn’t far from your village, in fact, he was revered as a protector of some sorts. Perhaps one quick to anger and that changed on the dime. It was a couple miles up the mountain where the snow thinned in winter and where the flowers bloomed in the spring. You’ve been to it only a handful of times before, once with your father, and several with the other village ladies. A yearly tradition, you suppose.

The temple is always well kept, the torii gates painted a pristine red, the surrounding area swept and neat, no dust to be seen near the wells or on the floor. Some, like the scholar you had made a wager with, merely believed he was a spirit, a demon of imagination. Others, like you and your mother, really believed in his existence. Before it becomes too late, you decide to scope out the area and set up camp a ways away from the temple so as to not disturb him. You briefly wonder if he was here or away at some other village. Would he be wreaking havoc? or be somewhat kind and spare the folks living there? You decide to set up your small camp under the camouflage and protection of the trees, maybe fifty feet from the river. You’d be much happier to stay at home, but the paths could become treacherous for a young thing like you at night. Maybe a little bit of the great outdoors is what you needed, anyway.

Almost a week passes before you ever have the hint of seeing the demon in the flesh. It’s on one of the days where you bring a small offering. Not much since you can’t exactly go home and cook a nice meal every time, but usually a flower crown or other type of decor.

When you do see him, however, time slows to a crawl. You swear your legs feel like jelly as he glances down at you. Sharp-featured and arrogant, beautiful, all man. He stands tall, towering above you. He has to stoop to reach the depths of the temple from the doorway.

“Well, well,” he croons, “what do we have here?” His four eyes are the color of what flows through each being and his canines sharp as knives. Truly, he’s beautiful, sculpted muscles rippling under inky black tattoos, blazing red eyes.

You bow deeply and straighten your shoulders, gaze still downcast to be respectful. “I just wanted to make this offering to you. I know it’s not much, but I hope you will find it useful.” You raise the small gift above your head, feeling his gaze roll over your body, sharp nails lightly scraping against your skin, grasping the wreath.

“Peculiar,” he says. His thumb and forefinger tilt your head up and you struggle to avert your eyes. “What’s your purpose here, little human?”

“I made a bet with the town scholar. I’ve to write about you and return with my findings so I can become a real student there.”

“A student, eh?”

“Please! I’m fascinated by you,” you plead, feeling his grip on your chin tighten.

“I’m intrigued, if only slightly,” he muses, releasing you harshly enough you’re forced to regain your balance.

You soon learn his ego is massive, that’s probably the only reason he spared you. He’d just love something written about him, wouldn’t he? Ever the gracious god, he lets you stay in one of the temple rooms. You had offered to take one the furthest from his own so he could have plenty of space, but he put you up right across from his instead.

Something about you being near to always capture his persona. Whatever.

Life at the temple is never truly boring. there’s always something going on; whether someone bringing gifts, like an unlucky human sacrifice, or some warriors barging in thinking they could actually harm the demon.

Sukuna likes you watching him tear apart these people limb from limb the best. The first couple times you couldn’t stand it, but it soon became a natural occurrence. Sure, you felt bad for those folks, but they never came truly prepared.

“What’re you writing now, pet?” he asks you one day. You glance up at him. He’s wringing the blood out of one of his sleeves, the blood drip drip dripping to the floor in red rain.

“I’ve noticed you like toying with your prey. If you’re in a good mood, you’ll let them think you have the upper hand,” you tell him.

“And if I’m in a bad mood?”

“Slice them in half!” He nods. His black nails gleam in the sunlight and you watch a pair of arms reach up behind his head as a cushion as the other balances to sit next to you.

“I really like how the trees change color in the autumn,” he says nonchalantly.

“Because they’re the color of blood?” you offer. You draw a small leaf on your paper’s corner.

“Maybe. Their lives are so short, unlike mine. Not that I’ve been a curse for too terribly long.”

You bite your tongue. Is it lonely? bounces around in your head.

“What will I do when my little scholar leaves too?” You flush and stammer that you still have a couple months. Sukuna pauses in thought, then, a sinister smirk gracing his lips.

The more you get to know him, the more you realize that he’s much more bored with life. Killing random people stated his boredom and gave him something to do, it wasn’t until later that he learned to revel in it. The more you got to know him, the more you didn’t want to leave.

He taught you, too. Weird things, usually, but still, useful things. He wasn’t all that good a teacher, but he was patient and expected you to figure shit out on your own. Sometimes he took you down to the market and showed you how to best barter.

And to steal.

Other times, he would sit and watch you cook silently. He always says your cooking wasn’t crap, so you just take it as a compliment.

Six months have passed since you first climbed the mountain. Sukuna finds you in your room packing what little belongings you have.

“That time already?” he muses, leaning against the door. You hum in acknowledgement. “What if they don’t even accept me?”

“Then you’ll return, of course.”

“That’s a nice thought.”

Of course, little did you know, but to Sukuna, that was a command.

He didn’t just watch your figure walk away, no, he followed silently behind, taking in the way you’d stop to study a particularly interesting tree or follow the clouds.

Your village is still the same. Same rickety well, same sunken houses, same sort of dreariness when you left.

You make your way towards the school house, it’s kind of near the back of the village, backed up to the lush forest. “I’ve done it!” you call, standing tall. “Not only have I been within 5 feet of his temple, I’ve been inside. I’ve had actual conversations with the demon Ryomen Sukuna.” You fish out your copious amount of notes and dissertation, shoving it in front of you.

“I’m surprised,” is all the teacher says, “give it here.” You hand him the documents, and he flips through the pages.

“So?”

“So what? For all I know, this could all be made up.”

“What? It’s not! How would I make up his favorite fruit or the way he likes his meat cooked? Papaya and rare, by the way,” you cross your arms.

“Then you should have brought him down with you.”

“You called?” his deep, rumbling voice cuts through the silence.

“S-Sukuna? What are you doing here?”

“I told you, pet, you’d return to me.”

“Sukuna-sama!” the scholar bows. “This is all a misunderstanding, their findings were great! Very convincing!”

“Give them to me.”

“Yes, sir!” he wails, pressing the papers to the other’s chest.

“You didn’t think he would actually keep that bet, did you?” Sukuna asks you.

“Well, I was hopeful!”

“Aw sweet,” he mocks you lightly. “You don’t need to be surrounded by such inferiors. Come now.” It seemed just a snap and somehow the scholar’s head was lobbed off.

You nod dumbly, barely processing what exactly just transpired. Did he kill him? For you? Surely there must be something in it for him.

But the way he holds out one of his four hands for you to grasp sets a fire in your heart. It’s small, no grassland bonfire, but a smolder that you know will become a steady heat.

His hand is rough and calloused while yours only has a few bumps from holding your ink brush so tightly and for so long. Sukuna leads you back to the temple, guiding you back into the room you stayed before.

“Why,” you ask him softly.

He shrugs. “You’re amusing to me. I like the silly words you use.”

“So you like my company?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he chuckles, running a hand over your head.

“Hey! You’re gonna mess up my hair!” you giggle.

“Don’t worry, next time it will be because your head will be atop my bed.” Shameless. Truly shameless. “Just keep writing about me.”

Somewhere in between you returning to the temple and now is when you find yourself tangled in his sheets. Two of his arms wrap securely around your waist and hip, another caressing your cheek. If you’re being completely honest, it seemed as if he adored you. He never coddles you per say, but anything you’d mention off hand, he would remember. An object you wanted, or even that you wanted to take a bath later that day. Sometimes he would even brush out your tangles for you.

You’re surprised by the normality of it all, how he’s gentle with you, unlike others who dare to cross his path.

Waking up together is a part of your daily routine. (Every morning, he gives you a quick kiss on the forehead.) (You trace the patterns of his tattoos lazily.) You’d ask him about you and him sometimes, and he always responds that he’ll always keep his little one happy, that you belong to him. Sometimes, in the back of your mind, you wonder if he’s actually being truthful or he’s just passing the time. Maybe the truth is a little bit of both, but you’re happy anyway.

He likes holding you, the two of you sitting by the river in the flowerbeds, watching nature for hours at a time.

Other times, he lets down his walls in the four corners of the temple. Every time he comes home smelling of blood and decay, you drag him to the bathroom and run a hot bath. Your nimble fingers glide through his hair, stopping to pull out leaves and scrub away dirt from his skin. More often than not, he would pull you in with him, your laugh ringing in his ears like bells.

But happiness must come to an end.

Apparently.

It’s a weekday when it happens.

Sorcerers.

They come in doves, feet stomping like drums.

“I guess they’re tired of me wreaking havoc, hmm?” he muses.

“There’s a lot more than usual, are you sure you’ll be alright?” you whisper softly, cupping his cheek.

He holds your hand there, leaning in and closing his eyes. “Who do you think I am? Of course I’ll be fine. You will be too.”

“Okay,” you watch him leave, a familiar aura of danger seeping in like a thick fog.

But it’s not okay.

Someone finds you and they drag you out of the temple by the hair. You’re thrown to the ground harshly.

“What, a little harlot? That demon won’t bother saving you, don’t even look at him. You’re nothing to him,” the sorcerer tells you, pressing a steel toed boot to your throat. You’re gasping for a breath, any.

“Obviously you think I’m worth something since you’re dealing with me,” you struggle to voice.

His nostrils flare, eyes wide. “See you in hell,” he snarls. You’re feeling everything and nothing at once. Surely the wound in your chest as you bleed, but you can’t seem to think of anything good or bad. You’re clutching your wound, sputtering. As if sensing you, miraculously, Sukuna turns in your direction as his fist rips through someone’s chest. Faintly, you hear a roar of anger, and then the screams around you are deafening.

The dozens of sorcerers that tried to defeat Ryomen Sukuna lay at bizzare angles, each in their own pool of blood.

It’s this horrible humorless laugh, his open mouth desperate and hungry like he wants to devour the world in punishment for taking the one true thing he held dear to him. The last piece holding his humanity together. He doesn’t know how you even got out of the temple, that’s definitely not where he left you. You’re staring blankly ahead, but he notices your hand gripping the pendant he gifted you.

Sukuna sighs, kneeling next to you, holding you close to his chest. He doesn’t know what you would have preferred: whether to be buried or cremated, and there’s no point now. Ultimately, Sukuna places you in a bed of flowers. He makes his way back to the temple, stepping around the bodies that litter the floor. Maybe he can threaten some laymen to come clean up the mess.

When he returns to the main room, the first thing he notices is the shelf with all the books you loved. Papers strewn everywhere, pages bent.

Your findings about him on the top shelf are gone.

That’s not something he realizes until much, much, much later when he’s ambushed after terrorizing another village. It’s been years without you, and yet he still feels anger of how you were taken from him. He promised he would protect you, at least, in the sanctum of his own mind, never voicing it to you. And yet, he’s failed.

Your coping mechanisms suck, you’d probably say if you saw him now. But I’ll write it down anyway, and we can cross it out later, if you want.

Like your death, he’s not even sure how the sorcerers managed to defeat him.

His twenty fingers cut up, separated through time and distance. Dormant, for now.

—PRESENT TIME—

“Oi, brat, ask that blindfold asshole what those are.”

“Ask what are what?” his host, Yuuji Itadori quips.

“Over there, on display. The books.”

Yuuji hates to admit it, but he’s curious too. How important are they to be kept here, and in a glass case, no less? Anyway, he hardly ever gets to see cursed objects in the flesh.

“Gojo-sensei! What are those!?” he shouts.

“They’re books, don’t you know what a book is?”

“Okay, yeah, but what’s their use? Like, why are they here?” Yuuji pulls at his hair.

“Hmm, they’re written by a [Y/N]. Long ago, not much information about the author, but the writing is phenomenal. And all about that little curse inside of you,” Gojo smirks, running a finger down Yuuji’s forehead and bopping him on the nose.

“About Sukuna?”

“Pretty mundane stuff, if you ask me. I’ve been told the sorcerers that defeated Sukuna used those texts. Not sure how ‘he hates when food offerings have tomatoes’ was useful, but apparently it was,” he shrugs, looking at his watch. “Ah, would you look at the time, I’ve gotta go! Pressing matters with a special-grade. And the candy shop I want to go to closes in 30!”

“Later, sensei,” Yuuji waves. “You don’t like tomatoes?”--silence-- “What, no response? You’re suddenly shy now?”

Sukuna hears him, and ignores him as per usual.

So, my little scholar’s books were stolen, huh? Here, all this time?

#sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gender neutral reader #sukuna x y/n #reader insert

[rotshop]

get prankt this isn't an angst fic lol ,,

ANYWAY ,, i realized earlier that i could've just been calling 'auditor reader' employer reader this whole time and then i had a funny silly goofy little idea and now we r here,,,lol,,, ill proof read this later but i did this in one go no breaks so . help.

I might continue this later so!! consider this a sort of 'introduction' if u will,,

note ; auditor uses he / she / they pronouns in this bc ive decided im just going to push my propaganda onto all of you <333 also Hank uses he / they / xe

tw ; dissociation, dereality, some light body horror

Bloody Management

"This is out of your jurisdiction. You've wasted enough time here," you seethed dryly, staring down at the shorter being. "You've made no progress and have only proved your operation to be a strain on our relations and resources."

"Out of MY jurisdiction? YOU'VE never even been there before! You think you can just storm in and suddenly kick me out of my own work?" Auditor shot back, hands slamming down on the mahogany desk in front of her.

"Yes, actually, I do," you snapped, eyes narrowing. "I think you're forgetting just who you're speaking to. You've let this drag on for far too long and your ego has grown in tandem with its pointlessness."

Sighing, you leaned back in your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose as you continued. "Look, I understand. You put effort and thought into this little pet project of yours, but the results have all proven zilch. You fucked up, that's fine, but you can't keep meddling with this reality in hopes something will suddenly work again! All you're doing is tearing and poking holes the rest of us will have to deal with later."

"If you just gave me a little more time I could-"

"We've been giving you time. We've given you more time than we've ever given any project like yours," you gave a desperate look, "It's over. You tried and we tried, there's nothing that can be done. If you just worked with us then we could help you."

There was a long silence as they faltered, hands falling into their lap as their gaze followed, landing on the floor.

"And what happens to my Nevada?"

"We'll try and clean it up again. Return it to..some sort of normalcy," you hummed, "Though, with some of those tears in the fabric it'll take a bit longer than anticipated. That..clown, is proving to be rather difficult."

You paused, grin finding it's way onto your face.

"It's been tricky, if you will."

"Not the time."

You gave a 'tsk' in response, shrugging lightly, "I don't regret it."

"You'll be going back to our depths, effective immediately. While this project was a failure, we're still curious to see if there's anything else that can be done in a different time and place."

"And what about you? Are you going to sit all pretty in this fake office for the rest of eternity?" She questioned sarcastically, eyes dragging up to meet yours.

"God, I wish. I mean, seriously, you have no idea how nice it is to have some peace and quiet after dealing with that fuckin' office."

With a dry snicker and -presumably- an eye roll, they finally stood accepting their defeat.

"I presume I'll be seeing you?"

"If your little posse doesn't cause me too much trouble, yes."

"Have fun with that, I do hope it's as grueling as possible," he hummed, turning and striding towards the door to nothing.

"Thanks, was nice seeing you too."

The door peering to the void shuts soundlessly.

.

.

.

"Was the pun really that bad?.."

---

"What do you mean they're just neutral suddenly? It's not like they all just suddenly unionized or sum' shit! There's gotta be something going on," Deimos groaned, irritation dragging onto him and clinging desperately.

"Well- What do you want me to say! I'm just as confused as you are," Sanford huffed back over comms, making a vague gesture with no audience.

Hank stood in the other room, staring down at the few agents that were on their knees with their hands held tight behind their heads. They'd made no attempt to attack Sanford and xem, simply staring in a bit of surprise when the two'd busted in. It'd completely thrown the raid off, leaving them both in a state of stunned confusion. The agent that they'd asked about the sudden change in demeanor just gave some shaky shrug, stammering out that they'd all received an order to not attack under any circumstances from some unknown contact. 'They really just listen to anyone then?..'

It was hard to believe, hard to find any reason or meaning in that lead to any conclusive endings. Which, had lead to a small dispute going nowhere and fast. Hank only picked up on little parts of it, the words being muffled and distorted through the wall. Xe didn't really have much interest in getting a clearer reading of it though, it didn't sound like it meant much.

"Look, I'm just going to try and look for any documents or actual recordings of this apparent 'ghost order,' alright?..." A pause. "Deimos? Are you there? Shit- Of course the line dies now of all times."

The line wasn't dead. It was somewhere else, some-when else.

---

The ground felt cold.

.

.

No, was it warm?

Wait- No no no, it wasn't warm..

.

.

.

Was it even the ground?

.

.

Did it even matter?

.

Deimos could fuzzily recall it. Arguing with Sanford over the line. The points he made exactly didn't seem to ring through the fog of confusion and numb in his mind. Something about the Auditor, the agents, blah bla..something.

He'd been making to say something else when he'd seen it, something off in the corner of his eye. It wasn't anything huge, if you asked him he wouldn't even be able to tell you what it was. There was something wrong, but there wasn't. The ground was cold, but it was warm.

Something was wrong.

Everything is fine.

He'd turned around, looking around for whatever in his vision wasn't right.

That's rude to say, you know.

He'd never found it, something reaching from the depths to grab him.

You're making me sound awfully cruel.

With a groan, he picked himself up off the ground to observe his surroundings. White and black stretched infinitely around him, the 'ground' underneath him was the deepest of not-color while the 'sky' was its blinding twin. A building stood in front of him, a mix of ivory and ink twisted to form its structure. The door faced him, standing tall and straight as a soldier in spite of how tilted and off the world felt.

Before he could even really register it, something was pulling him up off the floor. There were no hands or strings physically attached, nothing sticking from him to drag into the infinite beyond his comprehension, no no. It was something quiet, a ghost or a whisper in his mind that pulled him through the ocean and to shore. The door grew larger- closer. His mind grew blanker. His hand twisted the knob.

Color flooded into his vision finally, the room in front of him coated in it graciously. The floors were a velvet carpeting, a wine red that felt of lavish and glitzy. The walls were lined in bookshelves, each filled to the brim with titles somewhere between poetry and latin white noise where imagination fell. At the head of the room stood a desk, polished mahogany standing tall and still, frozen indefinitely in time. Behind it, you.

Me.

Once again, he was pulled forward. Each step fell in front of the other, unsure of weight behind them and noise that followed suite. He felt half there. Half of a man and half of a void. It was..something.

Not pleasant, not bad.

The ground wasn't cold, wasn't warm.

It just was.

He finds himself meeting your gaze as he plops down into one of the seats in front of you. He finds his neck straining and bowing under phantom limbs that aren't there. He finds his eyes training on yours which stare back pointedly, finds himself between hot and cold. He finds himself sitting down before you as he watches from the window.

There's no window in the room.

"You must be so confused."

Your voice is in front of him, right? That's where you are, so your voice should be coming from there. It isn't though. It's around him somewhere. Even as you tilt your head to the side the noise of your own voice doesn't seem to follow it.

"Don't think too much on this all, alright?"

You mutter something. 'These grunts really weren't made for this- to be here. I'm surprised he even woke up.'

Someone nods in agreement.

"Wh..who are you?"

Is that his voice? It is. It has to be, it fell from his own mouth. He barely even felt it move. Is it his mouth? It has to be.

You pause for a moment, seemingly caught off guard. He doesn't know if its because he spoke or because of what he asked. Nobody clarifies.

"Why don't you call me [name]? That'll be easiest for you. I do apologize for dragging you here rather than appearing there," you hum, leaning forward on your desk. "I just wanted to make sure we had the utmost privacy."

I wanted to make sure you wouldn't be able to forget.

"Now, Deimos," is that his name? "I need to tell you something, I have to work on restoring things for you, so I can't deliver this message to everyone myself in the most..effective of ways. You won't mind filling your friends in for me, right?"

He doesn't answer. He can't. His tongue is lead and his mouth is stuck shut, if he opens it will surely be left that way for the rest of infinity- for the rest of this place, this time. Someone says yes in his voice.

"Good. Now, try to listen carefully..."

---

He wakes up on sand. He's sitting up quickly, stilted as his mind finds his body. His tongue is lighter, teeth separated once more as his jaws are their own entities again. The cliff is still under him, wind passing by him peacefully. The horizon stretches infinite.

The ground is warm, there's no mistaking it.

"Deimos? Are you there?"

He pauses briefly.

"I need to tell you guys something."

#deimos x reader #SORTA??????? #I MEAN. U GASLIGHT GATEKEEP GIRLBOSS HIS ASS SO LIKE. TAKE THAT AS U WILL... #idk he's definitely in gay love w/ you but like in that 'aha hey bestie what if we kisses and you were a cosmic horror :flushed:' #madness combat imagines #madness combat x reader #madcom imagines #madcom x reader #auditor reader #employer reader #<- gonna be usin that tag too now ig??

[izloveshorses]

you know. i’ve been thinking. anastasia the musical could’ve easily been just... so bad. like. the easiest thing to do would’ve been to try to make a carbon copy of the movie-- which is fine for like, ticket sales and stuff bc nostalgia would’ve made ppl love it. 

rasputin would’ve been a character, somehow they would’ve made his limbs fall off in a fun comedic bit and special costuming, and the dark of the night number would’ve had an extended dance scene with dancing green bugs. the talking bat would either be a puppet or a man dressed up in a onesie. anya would’ve had a bunch of witty and snappy one-liners, but no depth or backstory. the whole timeline would’ve been five days. the final battle would’ve included some sort of flying contraption as one of the demons that lifted anya for an impressive stunt. the russian revolution would’ve never been acknowledged. 

and i’m not saying the movie is bad!!! i adore it so much, it’s The Blueprint of all romance and all cinema, it’s just... it would’ve been easy to make the stage production a clone of the film, and it would’ve been perfectly acceptable. cheesy, but nostalgic and endearing. dismissed as the children’s show. forgotten.

instead, lynn and stephen decided to not take the easy route. they took what was already haunting and magical and formative and made it grow, they let anya’s anxieties, flaws, and strengths deepen and feel real. they let dmitry sing about wanting to be a boy. they let the history of russia and the romanovs permeate the show, they let the ghosts haunt the characters, and, in turn, haunt the audience-- projections of light casting out off the stage, like memories, just out of reach of the viewer’s fingers. they let an angel sing for us in the spotlight. they gave us stars in every cast member and costume and dance step and set change and music note and light switch. they gave us music about the hardships of leaving your homeland, songs about finding yourself and falling in love, about marching through the cold towards your dreams when you can’t quite articulate why you need to trek on, about holding onto hope because it’s the only thing you have left, knowing that if you can get through the winter you’ll get to see the cherry blossoms bloom in the spring, that you’ll experience a rebirth of your own and reclaim your name. they explored the complexities and nuances of humanity and life and longing for change and companionship even when it’s scary. they showed us that while we are just pieces in history, we can still live a life full of vibrant colors and romanticism in the anonymity. they gave us a show that asked, “What if we changed history?” and gave us the answer. 

my point isn’t that one is better than the other, but like.. i just wanna acknowledge the fact that the show didn’t have to be as wonderful as it was. 

#anastasia broadway #anastasia musical #anastasia #literally no one: #me: i am going to write an essay on main that is so incoherent and emotional #i watched the show again last night and for some reason it... felt like i was watching it for the first time #so idk i'm feeling fresh and renewed and i'm ready to talk about this show on main bc like #idk it just. doesn't get appreciated enough #and i know i've been on my bs since 2017 but i'd like to announce i'm back on my bs #this show was a GIFT from the STARS and y'all SLEPT on it!!! #bc y'all were pissy that russia's greatest love machine wasn't there to sing a sort of mediocre song!! #i'm not here to complain ajsdlhfk i'm just here to say flowery things about my favorite show okay #personal

[therealyaspen]

Possessed Legend Go Brr

You know I was gonna just post a snippet bc I stopped writing this like five months ago bUT HERE HAVE A MESSY, UNEDITED BUT COMPLETE THING I GUESS?? Any grammatical errors will probably be looked over tomorrow dfnsav

So. The Lost Woods were still creepy as hell. Good to know. A dense fog still covered the area, and crows still screamed their call-and-respond at random seemingly just to startle anyone not expecting it. The same old eerie lantern-light darted between the trees, the same poes laughed at the group as they got up and dusted themselves off.

Some things would never change, Legend supposed, no matter how often you came back.

"Looks like the Lost Woods," Time observed. "Do we know whose era we're in?"

"Mine," Legend said with a glance at the pedestal in the middle of the clearing, "The Sword looks just like I left it."

Sky sighed sadly. "This place is so... different," he said, then turned to Legend and asked, "Are you going to take it?"

Legend shook his head. "Better to leave it here for now, I think." In truth, he didn't want to hold the blade ever again. Too many memories involved his hand clenched tight around the azure hilt of the Master Sword until his knuckles turned white. Without another word on the matter, he started walking. "We should probably get going before that scaly bastard can put anymore distance between himself and us. Follow me and stick close--Hyrule, no wandering off."

And so began the journey through the woos. As the group of heroes left the Sword behind them, however, it became increasingly apparent that something was wrong with the Lost Woods. The further they went from the clearing, the more obvious the signs were. The plants were wilting and turning a sickly purple grey color, the crows got to be fewer and fewer. Wild was caught trying to grab mushrooms that even Legend hadn't seen before three times. Even the poes seemed to notice that something was amiss and were avoiding the rest of the forest as much as they could.

Hyrule was the first to say anything. "Something's not right. There's magic here, but it's... wrong. Like Dark Link's," he announced, reaching up to touch a grayed leaf and recoiling with a yelp when it crumbled to dust in his hand. It almost looked like it had burned the Traveler.

"Then all we can do is stay on our toes and trust Legend to get us out of here," Twilight replied, and Legend noted the way that his pelt almost looked like the fur on the back of an animal's neck, bristling and on high alert. He nodded.

"New rule--don't touch anything. Wild, for Din's sake, put the mushrooms down!"

Wild gave him a kicked puppy look over his armload of slimy, red-capped fungi. "They look like they might be good for cooking!" he protested.

Legend pinched the bridge of his nose. "They also might be poisonous, you--" the Veteran stopped mid-sentence, and not of his own volition. He felt his arms drop to his sides, his face go slack. What the hell...? What in the actual goddess-damned fuck?! He wanted to shout, to rip whatever was doing this to him a new asshole, but he couldn't.

This was... something else. Something other.

"...Legend? You okay?" Wild asked. "It's fine dude, I'll put them down." Gingerly, he set the mushrooms on the ground, then put his hands up when Legend--or rather, the thing that was controlling Legend--didn't look away or change its expression or do anything. Get the fuck out of me! I swear to Hylia, I'll kick your ass! Legend swore at whatever it was, trying to force even just a little twitch of his finger.

Four looked at him warily. "Is he... do you guys think he can even hear us? Legend?" he asked, tentatively walking over to him. Yes! Yes, I can, and I have no goddess-damned clue what the hell's going on! Hyrule's arm shot out to stop Four. His eyes were wide, never leaving Legend.

"Don't," he said, voice cracking a little. "Something... something's really wrong."

Whatever had taken Legend's body finally decided to speak. Its voice was raspy and quiet and most certainly not his own. It sounded almost like fallen leaves scraping against the bare earth in the fall. "Trespassers... leave..."

Then Legend felt himself be thrown forward in a leap towards Hyrule, sword out and ready to attack. Move! He screamed, but again, his mouth didn't so much as twitch. Four grabbed the other hero and pulled him down just barely in time to avoid getting sliced in half, but the sound of steel cutting through flesh was as clear as Hyrule's scream as the blade struck him. The Traveler had a massive gash in his side. legend's arm moved up to deal a death blow, and he was begging now, Please, don't do this! Don't kill him, don't kill any of them, they're all I have--

Clang!

Legend would have cheered at the sound of his sword striking Wild's shield if he could. Wild pushed outwards with a shout, sending Legend stumbling back. Warriors and Time were on him before whatever had him could even think about getting up, though the thing was apparently much stronger than he was and was struggling violently in an attempt to throw both of them off. "What the hell are you doing?!" Warriors bellowed. The fury in his eyes almost physically burned, and Legend didn't really blame him. He'd probably react much the same.

"He's not himself," Time said. His voice was strained, and Legend could see that behind his neutral expression was a barrage of emotions. He couldn't imagine any of them were particularly pleasant. "Someone grab his sword!"

Twilight was just barely able to pry the weapon from his grip, which seemed to just further aggravate the thing inside him. Time and Warriors both ended up being thrown off. "Damn, that was... has he always been this strong?" Warriors muttered, getting up swiftly and moving to aid Sky in trying to grab Legend again.

It's probably whatever's causing him to act like this," Sky guessed. He blocked a punch aimed directly at his head and Legend silent-howled in pain as his fist connected with solid metal, but his body landed a blow to the Skyloftian's gut and a kick to Twilight's left knee.

He was sent downwards when Wind charged him and grabbed ahold of the back of his legs, then swore internally as his newly-retrieved sword tore through the Sailor's calf. "Fuck! I don't want to hurt him, but this asshole's sure not taking it easy on us!" the kid exclaimed.

Twilight was back on his feet quickly, though Legend noticed that he was favoring his injured knee just a little. He hoped to whoever would listen that this thing didn't see it too. Sky was a little slower to recover, but he got back up before Legend shook Wind off of him.

"Hey!"

Legend's head snapped in the direction of the shout to see Warriors. The Captain looked jarringly unsure and a little surprised, as if he hadn't meant to yell. He shook his head and the surprise disappeared, though he was clearly still uncertain. Legend was barreling into him before he could start speaking, and he hardly had time to get his shield up. "Snap our of it, Legend! This isn't--I know you're still in there!"

The thing controlling Legend kicked at Warriors' ankles, sending him toppling down. Warriors went at Legend's own ankles, hard. Fucking ow, asshole. Legend didn't even have time to think before he was on his stomach, Warriors holding his left wrist firmly against the ground and rendering the sword he held useless. The Captain's knee was in his back, and his full weight was holding Legend down. The whatever-it-was struggled, thrashing to get free, but the others were quick to secure his other limbs.

There was a beat of silence, save for ragged breathing and the sounds of a frantic attempt to get free, before Warriors spoke. His weight shifted a bit. "Sorry, Legend. We'll figure this out, I promise."

Then there was a pain in the back of Legend's neck, and he was released into unfeeling darkness.

~~~

When Legend awoke, the first thing he noticed was the rope tying his hands together. The second was the very familiar bed, and the third...

"Oh, Mister Hero! You're awake!"

Legend groaned and gave Ravio the evil eye when he helped him sit up, but was relieved to find that he could move his body on his own now. "What the hell am I doing here, and where are the others."

Ravio gasped, placing a hand on his chest. "Oh, you wound me! And here I was, worried you wouldn't wake up yourself!"

"Ravio..."

"Fine, fine--but you did give me quite the scare, you know! Being carried in, unconscious and apparently possessed and all--"

"Ravio!"

The merchant put his hands on his hips. "Hold your horses, Mister Hero, I'm gettin' to it! Your family--" Ah. Yeah. He had called them that, hadn't he? "--didn't have time to say much at first. Mister Cape pulled out his sword--somehow, he had the actual Master Sword, what's up with that?!--and did this thing with it Something about purifying a corrupted forest spirit and getting it out of you? I dunno, that kinda went over my head if I'm being honest,... Anyways, the sword burned up his hands pretty bad, so I pointed him and a bunch of the others towards Kakariko so they could find a healer or something. Mister Scarf, Mister Armor, and Freckles headed to the castle to try and get an audience with Zelda for help, in case the whole sword thing didn't work."

Legend frowned, taking a moment to digest all that. So Sky had tried to use the Master Sword to exorcise him? And apparently it had worked? But he'd hurt himself. Now Fable might get involved, and not only would he get the ass-chewing of the century, but she'd be wasting her time she could be spending not worrying about a brother that was okay, really. Legend sighed. "I guess we're gonna have to wait until they get back, then," he said. "Think you can untie me? I'm guessing these were put here in case I woke up and was... not myself." Come to think of it, how had he stayed out that long? Had Hyrule used sleeping potions? That had to be it, there was no ay he would have been out for the entire trek from the Lost Woods to his house otherwise.

A mischievous light glinted in Ravio's eyes. "Hm... I'm not sure, how do I know you're not just that evil, corrupted spirit impersonating Link? Think you can prove you're not?"

"Fucker-- you know damn well I'm not!"

"Mmm, I dunno~"

Legend seethed. "Fine, when you started your 'rental shop' or whatever, the thing that pissed me off the most was that you moved my goddess-damned bed. That good?"

Ravio clapped his hands together, and Sheerow chirped from somewhere across the room. "It really is you, Mister Hero!" he exclaimed cheerfully, going to work at the knot holding Legend's hands together.

He would still be working at it when Time, Warriors, and Hyrule returned with Fable to the sound of Legend screaming at him to just cut the damn thing.

#linked universe #lu #linked universe legend #linked universe time #linked universe sky #linked universe wild #linked universe hyrule #linked universe twilight #linked universe four #linked universe wind #linked universe warriors #possession #legend deserves a break but does he get one now? no #injury cw #violence cw #nothing graphic but it's still there so be warned :) #OH also #ravio #linked universe ravio #there's an lu ravio tag?? sick #angst #angst with a happy ending #because that's like all i write lmao #let wild eat weird mushrooms 2021

[maibi]

The Past Never Forgets

Pt. 1

Dabi x reader

Warnings: killing, cursing

Summary: as a cast out by society you find your way to the League of Villains. Your family that had given up on searching for you after you ran away , but after 5 years, in some mysterious way, they found your hide-out. 

A/n: I got the quirk idea from someone else bc my brain isn’t working with me. They have a lot of other fan made quirks I will put the link right here, you can check it out!! ( https://www.wattpad.com/672985786-my-fan-quirks-venom ) 

—————————————————————————

Life wasn’t really something that had been going great for you. In fact your life had been pretty shit. You were an outcast, hated by society, hated by your own family. All because of your unbearable quirk. You had no place to feel safe and no place to call home. Your family made sure you never used your quirk because it could cause deaths among your loved ones. Your childhood was ruined all because of the image they wanted to hold as a family. they put their desires of fame above your well-being and you saw only one option to change that. And that was by running away. The only thing you had been taught was to hate what you used to love, you were basically emotionless.

As a teenager of 16 years old you decided to run away from home. You never got treated right and you were seen as a death-threat. You yourself didn’t see any problems with your quirk, but your family had other opinions about that. There were rules for you, and only you. None of your siblings had any of these rules, because their quirks were hero-like and yours was villain-like. If you used your quirk without permission you would be left in a dark room with no food for a whole day. They would call this discipline, but in reality this was child abuse. The only person caring about you was your grandma, but after she passed away you had no reason to stay in that house.

Your family tried searching for you, but gave up quickly when they realized life would be much better without you around. You quickly realized that life would also be much better without them. You had blamed yourself for your quirk. For all those years in that place that was a so called home, you had believed that your quirk was a threat to society. That if you made the wrong moves they would take a hold of your life. But after running away, and finding people that adored you for your quirk, it made you realize what a real family was. And you realized that your quirk was more than just a threat to society, it was something that belonged to you and only you. 

You were the holder of the Venom quirk.

For 5 years you wandered around, going from city to city and doing about anything to provide yourself some food and a place to sleep. You never stayed put, that wasn’t your way of going. You went from place to place, exploring different streets from every city and making yourself known within the “villain community”. It wasn’t every day people got to see a venom quirk in action, so they were all curious enough to let you stay with them.

One day, before you had settled down, you were wandering around a new city, chewing on some stolen buns, you walked in a side street, hidden from the citizens. You saw blue flames and it struck to you. You had always liked the color blue, it was a pretty color compared to your dark purple venom, you didn’t like the color purple after all. You had watched the holder of the blue flames do his thing on a person who was trying his hardest to escape. He was unable to let out a sound as the blue flame man was keeping his hands strongly around his throat. 

You were interested in this person, not because he was probably a villain, but mainly because you thought his quirk was cool. Oh yeah, and of course because of the color blue. You wanted to know who’s quirk would be stronger. You were curious, so you budged in, not caring about what would happen. You threw your bun on the ground.

“I mean, that’s pretty kinky”, you said. 

his hand shot in your direction, but you were quick to react. Before his flames could hit you, you had made an X motion with your arms, letting out your venom in a shield form, protecting you from the burning flames. If there was one thing you had learned from wandering on your own, it were quick reflexes. you felt that his flames were powerful, but you knew for a fact that he didn’t use all of his strength.

“You got some good reflexes”, he said continuing to strangle the small dude. 

“You seem... interested in that kind of stuff”, you said, pointing at his hands around the man’s throat. 

“well what can I say, it’s tempting sometimes”, he said with a smirk. “I mean you can join in if you’d like that.”

He dropped the man and watched him crawl his way in the other direction. “That’s your prey, you sure you wanna just let him escape?”, you curiously asked, smirking back at him.

“He can’t go far, the next person will get him”, he said as he properly turned around and leaned against the stone cold wall. You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of him actually freezing against the cold wall right now. “Now tell me, what brings you to this side of the city?”

“I saw blue flames and I like the color blue”, you shrugged, placing your hands in your pockets. “Nothing more.”

He walked closer to you, examining you from head to toe with his eyes. You let him, because in the end what did you have to lose? If he wanted to kill you, he would have probably already tried to do that. But he was just looking at you, probably trying to figure out how your quirk was supposed to work. 

“You saw blue flames and you like the color blue”, he silently repeated your sentence. His eyes stopped trailing down your body when he connected eyes with you. “Do you have any clue as to who I am?”

“Not the slightest”, you answered, breaking the eye contact first by walking past him to the direction the person that was a victim of his blue flames. He was gone, with only a splash of blood and a limb on the ground. You smiled to yourself. He had not survived just like flame boy said.

This could get interesting. You had thought to yourself. 

“What exactly is it that you do around here”, he asked while walking behind you. “Never saw you around here. You new?”

“You could say that”, you answered. But left out the fact that you were only new to the city and not to the whole “villain” thing, because giving away your life wasn’t really your plan yet.

“What about you? I never heard of you”, you said.

“My name is quite known here”, he smirked, walking closer to you. “The name is Dabi.” 

“Nice to meet you infamous Dabi”, you said as you inched closer too, showing him you were by no means intimidated by him. “I look forward to hearing and seeing you more often.”

After that you had made yourself known in the new city you visited, the city were you had met Dabi, the so called famous villain. You did hear a lot about him, making him a lot more interesting. There were many encounters between the two of you and he had tried to convince you to join his little group of friends called the League of Villains. You liked to work independent, so you kindly rejected his offer. 

But it wasn’t after a very fierce battle that Dabi had been heavily injured. You wouldn’t consider yourselves friends at that time, but you were close enough to not let him die. You hadn’t received from him what you had wanted. So you brought him to his hide-out, where the other members of the League were. 

The time you had spent there as just “a visitor”, had turned into you wanting to have more fun so you decided to join, without a plan. You were still allowed to move on your own so you didn’t see that much of a problem. They weren’t people with rules, or whatever. You lived freely, and you were happy about that.

You had made that place your home. Things that started off as a joke, turned into things that were important to you. These people were the people that didn’t fear you, but were happy to battle with you. These people wanted to get stronger for their own sake and didn’t live up to the will of other’s. Even if they looked like emotionless people, they cared about each other. And that was a place you liked to call home.

that all lead to the present. You were sitting with Dabi at the edge of high building, thinking about some random plan Shigaraki had made you think about. It wasn’t even necessary, he just needed a back-up plan.

“We’re not really gonna write this down are we?”, you asked as you held a piece of paper and a pen in your hands. “Shigaraki has to be kidding if he really wants a back-up plan for this one. I’m 99% sure we’re winning this one.” You slowly watched your venom eat up the paper as you threw the pen off of the building. 

Shigaraki had planned to attack UA, you didn’t really care about UA, but because Shigaraki had let you do just about anything while being with them you didn’t mind helping him out. “We can never go wrong with a back-up plan, you know.”

“But I mean, he has been planning for over a month now. How wrong can stuff go? Worst case scenario is that we retreat. They can’t possibly be this cautious beforehand?”

“Oh, you don’t know UA. They do just about anything to keep school grounds safe. They have everything ready for literally the worst case scenario”, Dabi said.

“But everything has been planned out, we literally searched for every possible thing that could go wrong and we found a solution for that. I really don’t think we need this. Besides, since when does Shigaraki want back-up plans, he never did-”, your head shot up in realization and you slapped dabi across his chest as you lightly gasped. “You little shit. Shigaraki didn’t ask us to make a back-up plan! Why did you bring me here then?!”

“Ding ding ding, someone caught on”, he said as he slowly rose to his feet.

“But why!”, you asked as you also stood up.

“To protect you”, he said smugly.

“To protect me?”, you said questionably. “And why would you do that? I survived on my own for 5 years on the street, I think I can handle some high school children.”

He came closer to you and kissed your lips for only a second. He did this often, it’s not like it was the first time he did it, but it always left you a little flustered. It was not everyday you had received any form of affection, so it was all new to you. You two weren’t in a “relationship”, but it sure was something along those lines. Whenever he’d kiss you, your so called superiority went down a little only because you did not know how to act. But you never let yourself get trampled over. 

“Dabi I’m serious here, why did you take me here. If Shigaraki is fighting some people right now we should at least help him. Your own feelings shouldn’t come first place when it’s such a dangerous thing. I can care for my own, so let’s go help Shigaraki. He helped us out too many times to leave him alone there”, you said in a strict tone, showing him that you were by no means playing. “Besides I haven’t thrown a good punch in a while, I need this.”

“It was him that told me to bring you here, tho I would have even if he didn’t ask me to”, he said. “Your family found your occupation. Not the real hide-out, but you know the one where we-”

You slapped a hand on his lips, making sure he didn’t continue that sentence. Your face was flushed and his lips turned into a smirk. You didn’t like it when openly talked about your intimate relationship. He knew exactly how to fluster you, but right now wasn’t really the best moment to do so. 

You looked at the ground, eyebrows furrowed. Your family really had the audacity to come search for you now? It felt like bullshit to you. You looked at Dabi and straightened your posture. “All the more reasons for me to head over and take a look.”

#dabi imagine #dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi mha #dabi smut #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #bnha #mha #mha dabi #dabi angst #dabi fanfic

[fweasleyswhore]

F.W. Who We Are

Chapter Two: Your Least Favorite Color

Chapter One

a/n chapter two my lovlies!! i rlly wanted to pump this out p fast bc ive been having so much fun with it and i hope you are too!

summary: fred and george tell you their plan for their prank. fluff with a pinch of angst.

word count: 3k

warnings: some touching??? uncomfy situation??

tags: @you-make-children-cry @levylovegood @bohemianspacebabe

comment a request to be added to my taglist !

“Snape’s least favorite color?” I laughed out. “I think you mean, like, any color. I mean has he ever worn anything that isn’t black?”

I was now seated in a small semblance of a circle on the floor of the Gryffindor common room, Fred and George in front of me. It was most definitely past curfew but because tomorrow was Saturday I really didn’t care, the time was the last thing on my mind. The most present thought I had was how the hell Fred and George were going to change the color of all the cauldrons in Snape's room and get away with it. 

“Well, now that you bring it up, I do believe I saw him in robes that looked rather navy instead of black.” George pondered, looking up to the ceiling and tapping his chin as if he was deep in thought. 

“Oh bug off!” I laughed and smacked him on the arm. He looked at his arm with wide eyes, his smile gone. Before I could ask if I was too forceful he was pretending to cry, a little too loud than he should’ve considering it was well past 12 and I am technically trespassing. None of us cared though or even thought to care as we watched George grasp onto his brother’s arms like it was the last thing he would ever do. 

“I-I don’t want to die Freddie.” He whispered. His grip tightened onto his brother as he spoke again. “Freddie, I…” He then let out a loud, fake sob. “There’s so much I haven’t done.” He dropped his head and shook it. I rolled my eyes, how long was he going to keep this up? 

Fred brought his hands up to cradle his brother’s head. “It’s ok George, you can let go, it’s ok.” He looked into his brother’s eyes tearfully, “I’ll help you…”

Before George could react Fred lifted one of his hands and swiftly flicked him on the forehead. George let out a loud groan and spasmed a bit in Fred’s arms, I watched with narrowed eyes as he seized up and shook. 

“You look more like a fish out of water than a dying man,” I said smugly. George rose up and fixed his hair. He looked over to me with a glare and his tongue out. I laughed fully, the situation and everything, as well as some sleep deprivation, catching up on me. I threw my head back, clutched my stomach, and rolled around for what felt like hours. Once I had started I couldn’t stop. 

“I didn’t think it was that funny,” George whispered to Fred. “Maybe we have finally broken her?”

“Maybe…” Was all Fred was able to say back, too caught up with the beautiful girl in front of her to even fully process George's words. 

Finally calming down due to the sharp pain building up in my stomach from laughing so hard, I painfully pushed myself to sit up straight. Leaning on the couch behind me I tried to catch my breath while gripping my stomach. I could feel my face was flushed, my hair was a mess but I couldn’t care. Although the pain that coursed through my body, I was still smiling, looking at the two boys in front of me. Focusing on George I saw that he looked at me with a look of disbelief and amusement, rolling my eyes at him I focussed on Fred ready to be met with the same expression. 

What I was met with nearly made me roll over again. 

The way he looked at me made the rest of the world evaporate. I lost my breath. He smiled at me, but it wasn’t amused or disbelieving like George, he smiled at me with pure content, like watching me writhing around on the floor was the best use of his time. His eyes flickered with something, his usual gleam of mischief no longer evident but what was currently being held I couldn’t decipher. My whole face flushed even more if that was possible, I was praying in my head he didn’t notice it. I diverted my eyes from his gaze, trying to hide my red face as I adjusted into the position I held before I broke out in laughter. 

“Maybe red?” I tried to steer the conversation back to its previous topic, my voice quivered, making me cringe and I hope that the boys didn’t notice or just wrote it off. 

“If we make them red he will know a Gryffindor did it, that’s the equivalent of a murderer leaving a ransom note with his name on it.” George retorted. I sighed, relieved he didn’t say anything. Bringing my gaze up to meet theirs I looked between them, they were both staring at the floor, obviously lost in thought. I brought my gaze to the fire behind them. I pulled my lip in between my teeth trying to focus on a specific color that would make the blood drain from Snape’s face. 

Snape was the head of the Slytherin house, and though that relation, I absolutely despised him. He was terribly rude to Gryffindors for no bloody reason, being that my friends mostly consisted of Gryffindors, he was terribly rude to me as well. He never took points away from me specifically, knowing it would reflect badly on him, but he took the absolute piss out of any Gryffindor around, often even subjected me to long detentions for minor offenses. I have to watch my step around him, even my breathing could set him off, send a nasty glare, or even grade my way. Being a Slytherin though, there was not much I could do about it except accept it, and that made my blood boil under the surface. 

“Perhaps,” I started, my gaze was still trained on the dancing fire behind the boy. “Hot pink would suffice?” 

Lifting my gaze from the fire I glanced between the two. 

“Wicked.” They said in unison. They had these stupid grins on their faces that made me giggle. 

The rest of the night was spent actually completing the plan, or trying to and getting distracted. The day before we leave for Christmas break we would sneak into his room, Fred and George would hide in the back of the room while I waited for Snape to arrive. I would ask him to help me find a book in the library about potion making because “I had really been struggling this past year in his class”. Total lie, I knew what I was doing Snape just hated to give me the grade I deserved. 

Considering Mrs. Pince was on maternity leave he would have no option but to say yes. The boys would hex the cauldrons then run back to the Gryffindor common room where Harry and Ron were ready to provide an alibi. It flowed well, the potions section of the library was in the back and far up, Ron and Harry were more than happy to take the piss out of Snape, and Snape knew that because I was in his house I would never do anything directly against him for fear of being expelled. 

Although I knew there would be no evidence for Snape to use against me I was still quite nervous but the thought of the shit eating grins it would provide the twins gave me enough courage to agree. They always made me happy, it was only fair I do the same for them. 

Once it was mildly solidified in our brains we let the conversation drift, topics from quidditch to the worst animal to transfigure as filled up what should’ve been a quite common room at that hour, and never once did I feel bored.  

-

The feeling of someone shaking my shoulders brought me back to reality. I opened my eyes to a rather bright and blurry mess of red around me, quickly shutting them again I groaned, swatting at my attacker. My lazy attempts fell short never actually hitting anyone. 

“That was lame.” Hermione laughed. 

I opened one eye to glare at her. “Considering I was blind I think they were ferocious.” I shot back. 

She laughed again. “Well I don’t know how late you stayed up, but it’s quarter to 9. Breakfast ends at 10.”

“I have so much time, why must you hurt me ‘Mione?” I huffed running a hand down my face. 

“Because Saturday is blueberry pancake day!” She said half singing. “Also I figured you would want to shower and get ready before we go to Hogsmede.” I groaned again but I knew she was right. I threw my hands over my face and rubbed my eyes before opening them, this time the brightness nor the redness of the room affected me. 

“What would I do without you?” I asked sitting up. Now in a seated position I could see my surroundings. I was laying longways on the couch, a robe sprawled over me like a makeshift blanket. Hermione stood behind me, her hands rested on the armrest that my head was just against.

“Probably dead, due to these two.” I couldn’t see her but I knew she was talking about the twins. I turned my head around and smiled at her. 

Squinting around the common room I could see George curled up in a loveseat by the fireplace, he sat sideways, his head against the back of the chair while his arms hugged one of his legs tightly to his chest, his other leg was thrown over the armrest. I giggled at the sight of him in such an unnatural position, it could not be comfortable with his long limbs. I searched the room for Fred. He wasn't in the other seats by the fireplace or the other couch pushed against the wall. 

My heart plunged into my stomach at the thought that he went up to his dorm, I wasn’t completely sure why it hurt me so much. It made sense for him to have left, but part of me just felt pained at the fact that George stayed and not him. Of course I liked George but not in the way I liked Fred. George was like a brother to me, he was a best friend. Fred was something more than that, not that he knew, I would never admit it to him much less our friends, but that didn’t stop the longing I felt for him, hoping that he felt the same way too. 

Finally I found him and all the doubts I had before were void upon seeing him. He laid on his stomach on the floor next to the couch. One arm under the pillow supporting his head that was facing me and the other thrown across the floor. He didn’t have a blanket on him and his robe wasn’t in sight. His hair was slightly brushed in his face and I had to refrain from leaning down and brushing it out of his eyes. I let out a small laugh realizing he was using the pillow that I threw at George the night before. 

Turning around again to Hermione I spoke again. “You’re completely right.” She rolled her eyes with a smile before exiting the common room muttering something about the work she needed to do that day. 

I stretched and readjusted, pulling my legs to my chest while figuring the best way to get up without disturbing Fred. I balled up the robe that was laid across me, still trying to figure out how to navigate my way out of the common room. 

There was a small space near his arm on the floor, taking it as my best shot to then jump around him. I carefully placed my foot down, making sure not to step on him. Shifting my weight onto that foot I began to move my other leg to go around his back. 

Slowly crouching to get some momentum I jumped, but before my foot could even leave the ground a strong arm grabbed my ankle. Taken by surprise I let out a small shriek before falling onto the couch and then sliding onto the floor. 

I was met with Fred, smirking at me with half lidded eyes. 

“Trying to sneak off with my robe are you?” He said smugly. His voice was deeper and raspier than it usually was and had an immediate effect on my body, my legs weakened and my face burned. I was thanking Merlin I was already sitting and flushed from the fall.

“What are you on about Weasley.” I whisper-yell at him. 

He released my ankle, something I hadn’t even noticed he was still holding until I felt uncharacteristically cold where his touch had been only moments ago. He used his now free hand to point at the balled up robes in my arms. 

“You did not just make me fall on my arse only to accuse me of stealing my robes!” I whisper yelled again, although a tad louder than last time. 

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Your robes? I wasn’t aware we had joint custody over my clothing Y/L/N, but since you want them so bad I suppose you can keep them, red looks good on you by the way.” He shot me a wink at the end of his remark. His confidence and cockiness just upset me further. Although he was unnervingly annoying I couldn’t help the grin that split onto my face at his own stupidity. 

I rolled my eyes and unbunched the robes to show him the green that adorned them, but once they were unrolled I saw the red fabric. My eyes shot wide open, I could feel my eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. 

“But…” I couldn’t even form a whole sentence, this didn’t make sense. “You hexxed my robes!” I shot at him. It was the only logical conclusion I had come up to that he had planned this. 

The laugh he was holding back erupted from his mouth. His morning voice made it much deeper than his actual laugh. The rings of his laughter normally made my body hot but this was a whole new level. 

He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand up to my collar and tugged. Looking down I saw that I was still wearing my robes. Never took them off. 

I groaned and threw my face into my hands which only made him laugh harder. He peeled my hands away from my face and held them in his much larger ones. “I would never hex your clothes,” I could feel my face heat up at his words, the genuine tone and the lower octave of his voice sent shockwaves through my whole system. “At least not red, I’d make them purple!” He stuck his tongue out at me and I playfully swatted his shoulder. He knew that was my least favorite color. 

I stood up and threw his robes at his face. “See you in the Great Hall.” And with that I grabbed my shoes and walked out as quickly as possible. I could hear him still laughing as I got to the portrait hole but kept going trying to calm down and get the flush off my face, both from our proximity and embarrassment. 

-

I had thrown on my favorite muggle outfit. Going to Hogsmede was a tradition but the excitement was still there which qualified for a little dressing up. It wasn’t anything special, just plain light wash jeans, a white turtleneck and an oversized orange button up I managed to steal from the twins. All pulled together with a little accessorizing I thought I looked rather good. 

Walking out of my dorm and into the Slytherin common room there was an evident pep in my step. I was happy but a fool wouldn’t be. Stepping towards the exit of the common room someone just had to ruin my fun. 

“Not going out with the Weasels again are you Y/L/N?” Draco drawls. Turning I see him snickering with Crabbe and Goyle before standing and waltzing up to me, arrogant as ever. 

“What is it to you Malfoy?” I spit at him. I was not going to let him ruin today. 

“Well you got so pretty today, Weasleys do not know how to appreciate such expensive things, they can’t afford them, how would they know how to? You deserve someone who knows how and can express their appreciation in equally expensive ways.” He laughed out. He lifted his hand to caress my cheek. His touch made me cringe, his hands were cold and his demeanor was uninviting. Everything about him made me recoil. 

I grabbed his wrist and threw his hand down. “I hope you don’t mean someone like yourself Malfoy. I’m not sure how you even know how to use a hand like that, it looks as though it hasn’t done a day of work in its life. Is that something you are really proud of?” I threw my words at him like daggers. Steam rolling off of me. I could see him change under my glare, his confidence shrank and his anger grew, his relaxed expression was soon replaced by his snarl he adorned everywhere Harry was near, his back stiffened and his fists balled up. 

“Never, touch me again Malfoy.” I turned on my heel and stormed out. Before reaching the exit I thought of something though. 

“Future advice,” I turned again so I was facing him. He hadn’t moved and still looked at me venomously as before. He lifted an eyebrow at my comment, urging me to go on. “Money can’t buy consent.” 

His face darkened and I had to turn quickly to stop myself from all out laughing at him. I’m sure that if I stayed I could have watched him have his temper tantrum but frankly I wasn’t interested. My interest laid with the redhead waiting for me at the doors of the Great Hall. The same one who smiled at me as I walked up to him and poured my juice for me when we sat down. Fred Weasley had me totally, inconceivably, and utterly smitten, and I was completely ok with it. The harder I fell the sweeter it would feel when he caught me. 

Or I hoped. 

#fred and george #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #weasleys wizard wheezes #george weasley fluff #fred weasley fanfiction #the weasly twins #fred weasley fluff #fred wealsey fic #harry potter characters #harry potter fanfiction

[logicalbreak]

Height chart for Atlas and Limber! With family members (since the only real way to do heights here is by comparison).

Bunch of headcanon rambling and so under the cut! (Originally from twitter, which is why its like that)

Atlas takes after PK, Limber after WL (though less visibly so because of their fluid shape-shifty nature). You can see how PK and Atlas tail connects differently to their body than THK and Limber!

Atlas is also a much lighter color, and Limber a much darker color than THK. Atlas' carapace can actually be downright translucent when they start using soul properly.

I didn't do anything fancy with PK's wings here, but I imagine they're quite big and powerful, and that in general PK is VERY sturdy. Atlas wings are hollow nets of void, and change size when filled up instead.

WL is a solid body mass in the middle with a neck and head, and otherwise tangled together roots that make up her limbs and hands. PK has voidtainted hands, chest and back of neck (Where the kingsbrand was!)

I like the headcannon of the vessels cloak being part of their body, so they're PK's wings and WL's natural roots combined together, which is why they're leaf like! Neither Atlas or Limber got them bc they only take after one parent instead. Limber looks heckin weird as a baby because their body is very fluid and at the beginning they couldn’t control it super well, so defined shapes (like hands) were hard to do! Atlas on the other hand is a very close copy of daddy from the very beginning.

#hollow knight #hollowknight #hollowknight oc #hollow knight oc #fan vessel #hollow knight vessel #pale king #white lady #thk #the hollow knight #Atlas #Limber #logical art #the non family version is because of Artfight in case you're wondering #look at my gremlins

[thetomorrowshow]

i will make the sky collapse ch. 3

First - Previous - Read on AO3!

Ok this post is queued bc y’all will not believe how busy I am, so it’ll be on ao3 a little late

CW: referenced violence, food, brief allusion to suicide, spiraling thoughts (from mr. jack kelly himself)

~

Jack had been here all day. When he ran from the rooftop after the disastrous strike, he’d snuck in through the backdoor of the theater and curled up in a corner, shaking and gasping and barely holding back tears. He’d been so close to just throwing himself off the rooftop, close enough that he knew he couldn’t stay there.

Now he hid behind the various set pieces, trying to not disturb anyone who still might be working around here this late. Not that there should be anyone, now. He’d even completely avoided Miss Medda. The woman liked to believe that she knew everything that went on around the theater, and Jack was content enough to let her. He couldn’t be found right now, though. Not when his nose burned and eyes smarted and knees wouldn’t stop shaking.

He would talk to Medda in the morning. It was late now, and all the lights were out, so it wasn’t like he had much of an option otherwise. Talk to her, maybe paint a background or two . . . maybe she would pay him like she offered . . . then he would be out of here, as soon as he could get Crutchie.

Crutchie. His heart practically split in half, and a tear finally slipped down his nose. They got Crutchie. They took him to the one place Jack had tried to save him from his entire life.

He had plans to head there near dawn tomorrow--after he’d spent another day planning things out. It shouldn’t be too hard to get him--or it wouldn’t, had it been anyone other than Crutchie. Any other boy would figure out how to climb down the wall, but it would be impossible without all working limbs. Crutchie’s bad leg wouldn’t be able to support him at all, especially not after the beating he’d taken in the Square (and definitely not after whatever Snyder and his goons had done so far during his stay, but Jack didn’t like to think about that). Jack could go in the front, the only door . . . but there was no way someone wouldn’t see him. There was always a guard or three hanging around, if not the Spider himself. And how would he get Crutchie down the stairs all by his lonesome?

A tiny voice spoke up in the back of his head, one that he’d been pushing down all evening. You coulds just go, it said. Forget about him, forget about all of them. Just go.

I can’t do that, Jack wanted to cry. He’s my brother, I can’ts just abandon him to Snyder!

People don’t stay in our lives forever, Jack, it reminded him. He’d never make it to Santa Fe, anyhow.

Jack couldn’t deny that. Maybe on a better day, in a better month. Maybe when Crutchie was grown, and his leg had calmed down a bit. Not now though, certainly not tomorrow. If Jack was going to leave soon, he was going to do it on his own. He didn’t want none of the others to come with him, anyhow. Only Crutchie.

Jack drew a hand across his tear-stained face, wincing as he brushed one of his bruises. Maybe in the morning he’d have a clearer head, a better understanding of what on earth he was meant to do. It wasn’t like the strike could continue, after all. They’d all end up in the Refuge for sure, or even worse. He’d seen Romeo get socked by that cop, had no idea how he was doing. If they kept on striking, more police would come, better armed and with no qualms about a bunch of stupid street rats.

None of them, save maybe Les, had escaped with zero injuries. Everyone was bleeding and bruised and crying and Crutchie was in the Refuge, and it was all Jack’s fault for getting the riled up about this in the first place. They were just kids! None of them knew what a union was supposed to be, even if Davey knew a bit about them! They were just children playacting at being adults, thinking that the trolley workers were probably having a good old time with no work while they got arrangements for better conditions, not even caring that there were full grown men dying in that strike. People died in strikes, and Jack couldn’t let it happen to any one of his boys, not before they properly got to be a person yet.

So he would leave--no, sleep on it, but he was fairly certain of his choice. Leaving, having to trust that the others would quit the strike and just deal with the raise in prices. That Crutchie would be out in a few months and be good enough to get right back to business, and maybe smiling that face-splitting smile of his eventually. Jack had to believe that he’d--that they’d all--be okay.

He couldn’t stop the sinking feeling in his stomach as he balled his shirt up into a pillow, nor could he stop a few more tears from wetting his cheeks. This was going to be by far the hardest and worst thing he’d ever done. He just had to hold on to Santa Fe. Everything was going to be fine when he got there.

-

Medda had given him one of those disapproving looks of hers, which Jack tried to ignore as his face burned. It had turned to blatant concern when he didn’t refuse her offer of payment. She had let it go, thankfully, and now he was waiting for the base white layer of paint to dry so he could start with the reds and oranges of a sunset. He’d already been waiting for what felt like way too long, so he stuck his thumb to the corner of it. It left a print and came back white, so Jack sighed and wiped it on his shirt--his undershirt, he’d taken his blue button-up off as soon as he’d gotten the paint out.

He couldn’t just not do anything--he could feel his feet itching to go, his head clamoring for his conscious attention. He absently flapped a brush back and forth against his palm, wondering if he could start on another while he waited, get the base coat of that one done and drying while he started on the actual painting of the first one. First he ought to sign this one, though, before he forgot.

Jack always signed his work, usually just on the back of the piece. A quickly scrawled ‘Jack K--’ in black paint, something to set it aside from all the other set pieces. He also knew that the boards would get reused countless times, painted over and cut up and redesigned. It was nice to know that under all that change, his name was there.

He spun it around and cracked open the can of black paint, dipping his brush in lightly and placing it on the blank back of the slab of wood. He could do his name big, more noticeable but with a better chance of getting scraped off. Or tiny, in the corner, somewhere it’d probably stay forever. Then he realized that while he’d been considering, he’d begun painting.

A boy, small, but very clearly a newsie, by his bag. An anguished face. A crutch.

Jack nearly dropped the brush. Was his guilt getting that bad, that he was painting Crutchie out of nowhere? Well, he couldn’t leave him there all alone on the canvas, with such a terrible look on his face. So Jack dipped his brush back in the paint and began another boy, not himself--not now that he was leaving--but Davey, as he liked to think that as Crutchie and Davey would become good friends in time. But Davey needed Les, and Les needed other boys, but of course they couldn’t be painted into this. They were too busy being suffocated by Pulitzer--and with that thought, Jack knew what he was painting.

-

The landscape had started out as any random place, just like all of them did. Mountains, a valley maybe, warm colors and some purple thrown in to capture the magic of a stained-glass sunset, and suddenly it was Santa Fe, exactly as Jack pictured it in his head. This happened with every single backdrop, from meadows to beaches to forests. All of them were Santa Fe, even if they weren’t.

“You ever gonna paint somewhere else, Jack?” a voice asked behind him, as he surveyed his work so far. He chuckled, not turning around, holding his thumb out in front of him the way he’d seen real painters do. He wasn’t quite sure why, but he thought it looked professional-like.

“How could you tell, Miss Medda?”

“Boy, I can tell everything.”

Jack dropped his arm and set his brush down on the floor, wiping his hands on his shirt as he turned around. Medda frowned.

“You are wearing an apron, use it!”

Oh yeah, he was. He moved his hands to it belatedly, smiling a little when Medda laughed at him. She was dressed to leave, not in a costume like Jack had assumed she would be. Were the shows over already?

“I’m heading out for a quick supper,” Medda said, and Jack nodded. One of the shows was over then, the other would be starting soon. He hadn’t lost track of as much time as he thought. “Do you want me to get you somethin’?”

“Aw, don’t worry ya’self over me,” Jack waved off. Sure, he hadn’t had anything to eat all day, but he could grab himself something later. By the look on Medda’s face, she was going to worry herself over him.

“I’ll bring you a sandwich, free of charge,” she said, reaching forward to pat his shoulder. He winced; he hadn’t realized he had a bruise there. Medda gave him another look, then turned to leave. Over her shoulder, she called, “By the way, Jack, there’s someone here to see you. I told him to wait in box five.”

Jack froze. They’d found him. It had to be Davey, didn’t it? The other boys knew that he stopped by the theater every so often, but didn’t know about his paintings. They just thought he knew one of the actors, or was getting food from the back or something. Only Davey and Les knew he worked here on occasion.

Jack put off visiting the box until after Miss Medda returned and told him to get up there before she sent the kid off herself. It was time to confess, he supposed. Let them know he wanted the strike to stop, and was leaving anyhow. At least someone would be able to tell Crutchie where he’d gone. And Katherine, if she cared.

This time he remembered to wipe his hands on his apron, then bundled it up and threw it into a corner. The painting wasn’t done, but he wanted to let it all dry before adding his finishing details. Every time he’d painted before, he hadn’t waited at all and it always came out looking more smudged than he wanted, so he’d decided to experiment a bit. Maybe it would look okay.

He couldn’t put it off any longer, it was time to face the music--or, Davey, rather. Jack knew his way around the theater, so it wasn’t hard to avoid the milling patrons in the lobby completely and skip straight up to box five, ready to talk to--

Specs?

“Specs?”

Specs.

“Specs.”

Specs leaped up from where he’d been perching on the edge of one of the fancy theater chairs, looking guilty as anything. When he saw Jack, though, his face brightened. “You’re all right!”

“Yeah, better than ever,” Jack griped, his eyes caught on the nasty hand-shaped bruise wrapped around Specs’s forearm. “Whaddya need?”

“We’s thought you mighta gotten grabbed by Snyder,” Specs said, looking him up and down, no doubt taking in his relatively few injuries. “The Delanceys been sayin’ you ran. I think some o’ the fellas mighta believed it, but Race thought ya’d be here so I cames by as soon as I could!”

Jack hadn’t counted on telling anyone other than Davey where he was going, but maybe this was for the best. Davey was so new to this, there was no way he could be in charge. Race was the first to come to mind for his replacement, but Race was so stupidly impulsive that Jack wasn’t sure he would be able to keep the boys in line. Specs would do well, though, at least until a better choice came forward. Used to the life, but always a little separate from the others, focusing more on the job than the social aspect. Still, he could have fun, and he was quietly loyal. Yeah, Specs would make a pretty good replacement. Jack opened his mouth to say something along those lines when a dirty scrap of paper was shoved in his face.

“What’s this?” he said instead.

Specs looked nervous and abashed at the same time. “Letter from Crutchie,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I went ta visit last night and he askeds me to give it to ya.”

Jack stared at the paper, taking in none of its details, then shifted his gaze to Specs. His eyes looked honest, if a bit anxious, mouth curved hopefully at the corner. The scrape on his cheek was ugly, but didn’t look infected. Davey must’ve made them all clean up with soap. That was another thing he’d have to tell Specs to remember. If he was going to be in charge, he had to know that Elmer hated the texture of the soap so bad he wouldn’t use it and had to be threatened, that Race sometimes liked to impulsively smear dirt on his wounds to try and get sympathy when it got infected.

Crutchie had written to him.

Jack grabbed the letter so quickly it almost tore, sending Specs stumbling back. Now that he was focused on it, that was definitely Crutchie’s handwriting, starting out relatively neat and just devolving into larger loops and tinier scribbles as it carried on. The paper was dirty, the pencil smudged here and there, and a rusty stain in the middle of the paper that made Jack’s stomach turn as he imagined how it had gotten there.

“I’ll just be headin’ back,” he heard Specs say distantly, but Jack couldn’t look away from the letter. Crutchie had held this, just last night, and he had been alive. Well enough to write a whole letter. Well enough to still have his sense of humor (Jack snorted at his joke about the food, then remembered the sentence preceding it and immediately sobered). Maybe even well enough to escape?

His letter read that he was already coming up with escape plans of his own, which was a good sign for his morale. It also said, though, that he was exhausted and his leg was doing bad.

Well, there was no way Jack couldn’t visit him now. Early in the morning was best--probably when the moon was about halfway done setting--and from there he would see whether or not Crutchie would be coming with him. Then back to the theater to lay low for a bit and finish the backdrop (there was no way Jack would be able to even think about finishing it tonight), then catch a train to Santa Fe and be out of here forever. If Crutchie did come, though, he’d have to do at least two more sets, get enough money for the both of them to make the trip. And of course, he still had to speak to Specs about taking over. Davey would come for him eventually, so he had to come up with something to placate him.

Why did nobody tell him that running away would take so much effort and planning?

The show was starting soon, and that sandwich was still waiting for him in the back room, so Jack ducked out of the box, tucking the letter into his pocket. He had to get ready for a break-in tonight, there was no time to waste.

#newsies #livesies #newsies live #newsies fanfiction #newsies fanfic #jack kelly #crutchie morris #newsies specs #letter from the refuge #i promise that next time we'll actually get to see crutchie's pov #am i stretching out the timeline a bunch? #maybe so #do i care? #not at all #the timeline in the musical is really wonky anyhow #oh i do need to clarify that this is not jackcrutchie #like it can be if you want ig #but that isn't my intent in writing it #it's meant to be brotherly :) #but yeah idc how you interpret it #go right ahead #please reblog it helps a lot :) #love you guys

[theoriginalladya]

Kiss Prompts: By the campire/longing for Rhys/Kaidan

from this list

On AO3 here

Okay, here we go!  The first thing I’ve actually posted officially for Rhys Shepard and Kaidan.  Let’s do this!!!

This one is set in Wyoming (where Rhys lives with his grandparents) post-BAaT just as he’s starting to get himself back on track with school.  Rhys is 19, Kaidan is 20.

~~~

“So, this is the Wild West, huh?”

Rhys snorts softly and feeds a log to the campfire. When he retakes his seat a moment later, Kaidan hands him a bottle of beer.  They clink them together quietly in a wordless toast.  Only then does Rhys takes a long pull.  “As wild as Wyoming can get these days, I suppose.”  

The fire flickers as a stiff breeze blows through. Rhys tilts his head to the sky, inhaling deeply.  The chill in the air hints at a threat of a storm, but they have the small cabin to retreat to if it comes to that.  For now, conditions are safe enough they can sit outside and enjoy the mostly clear skies and breathtaking view of the stars above.  Using the log behind him as a back rest, he settles down and chuckles softly. “Surely you have views like this back home?”

Sitting to Rhys’ right and using the log as his perch, Kaidan rests his arms across his legs as he hunches forward and nods.  “We do.  Dad and I used to go camping sometimes when I was younger.  Cat Peak, Gold Peak.”  His voice is low, thoughtful, but there is a hint of a smile on his lips as he stares into the fire.  “Seems like a lifetime ago.”

A lifetime.  Rhys cannot hide the ripple of a shiver that chases down his spine.  Before BAaT.  A lifetime and a half ago.  A question tumbles around inside his head, but for now he keeps it to himself.  They are friends, good friends even; without Kaidan, Rhys might not have made it out of Jump Zero alive, and vice versa.  But that said, there are some lines he refuses to cross no matter how close they were, or are.  How long has it been?  Two years since we last talked or saw one another?  A lot has changed since then.  

So, instead he falls back upon a topic that arose during their initial meeting nearly five years ago.  “Canada, huh?  Ever find any dinosaurs up there?”

Silence returns briefly until it is broken by a bark of laughter.  “I swear, you have dinosaurs on the brain!  Do you ever study anything else?”

Affecting a look of disappointment and hurt, though he feels anything but, Rhys half-turns toward him to protest.  “Hey, now!  It’s a fair question.  I mean, I found one around here when I was a kid.  Why not you?  You live in an area that is well known for them!”

“Actually, I don’t,” Kaidan replies around a laugh. “Most have been found in Alberta, not BC.  East of us, next province over.”

Rhys scowls.  “You just didn’t look hard enough or in the right places!”

“I didn’t look for them at all,” Kaidan reiterates around another soft snort.  “That’s your thing, not mine.”

“What was your thing then?”

“Hockey.”

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Rhys collapses back against the log.  “Of course, it was.”  

Kaidan uses his knee to nudge into Rhys’ shoulder a moment later, still laughing.  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“A typical Canadian thing,” Rhys corrects.

“I’m sorry?”

“As is that!”  Rhys downs the rest of his bottle and sets it aside before jumping to his feet.  

Kaidan’s laughter is not so silent nor subtle as he drinks.  “And you aren’t stereotypical?” he challenges, then points at Rhys with the neck of his beer bottle.  “Your cowboy hat is at the top of the list.  So’s your coat.”

Brushing his hands over the lined denim jacket, Rhys’ scowl darkens.  “This coat is really warm, perfect for the conditions out here.  And this hat,” he lifts it into his hand and runs the fingers of his other hand around the edge of the brim, “was a gift.  I like this hat, thank you very much.”  He tries to take a step forward, but the world starts to spin around him and he throws both hands out to regain his balance, nearly losing the hat into the fire.  

Kaidan snickers.  “What about those boots?”

Lips pursing into a thin line, Rhys focuses on the tips of his well-worn cowboy boots.  “Comfortable.  Don’t you dare make fun of my boots!”  He reaches over and slams his hat down on top of Kaidan’s head as an afterthought.

“Hey!”

Kaidan’s protest triggers a giggle from Rhys who pulls up his omni-tool in a quick motion.  “Look at me!”  His friend obliges without hesitation, allowing Rhys to snap a picture of him in the hat.  

Apparently, it is the wrong action to take?  Kaidan lunges toward him and the omni-tool, but the hat falls down over his eyes and he stumbles before makes it.  For just a moment, time slows around them.  Rhys’ lungs seize up as the predicament becomes clear, and he reacts out of instinct, tossing out a protective field of energy that wraps around his companion to not only stops his momentum, but hold him in place until Rhys grasps him by the arm and tugs him away from the edge of the fire.

What he does not expect as they end up eye to eye, nose to nose, is the immediate rush of heat to his cheeks or the flutter of butterflies inside his chest.  Swallowing past a sudden tightness in his throat, he reaches up to flick the underside of the brim of his hat with his fingers just enough so Kaidan’s whiskey-colored gaze meets his.  His breath catches in his chest and he freezes like a deer caught in crosshairs of a rifle.

But where Rhys expects to find the situation become one of embarrassment or awkwardness, he instead is met by something completely unexpected.  He swears the look meeting his is the same one from BAaT in those last days before everything fell apart around them; the one that left Rhys’ tongue tied at the most inconvenient and embarrassing moments …  

From one moment to the next, the distance between them – or what little remains of it – closes.  Kaidan slides a hand around the back of Rhys’ head, fingers combing through his hair yet carefully avoiding his amp port.  At the same time, Rhys grasps Kaidan by his hips, slipping his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.  His gaze drops to Kaidan’s lips as he notices the scars at the corner twitch slightly. Warm breath fans across his face and somewhere around them, a soft moan echoes.  Who it comes from, he has no idea.

“Kaid –?”

The first touch of their lips is brief, hesitant, as if testing the water before diving into a pool.  But what starts as a gentle, slow, and searching shifts to something far more scorching and desperate in the beat of a heart.  Jolts of electricity sizzle through him, leaving no limbs, no nerves untouched.  The kiss lasts only for a moment, but when Kaidan pulls away and touches their foreheads together, Rhys is left gasping loudly for breath.  

“Rhys …”

Opening his eyes, Rhys shakes his head just enough to cut him off.  “Don’t,” he pleads.

Kaidan appears rattled.  “Look, I’m sor-.”

Hands still in Kaidan’s pockets, Rhys tugs his hips as close as he can, swallows tightly, then murmurs, “Do it again …”

#kiss prompts #Ladya writes #Rhys Shepard #mshenko #Kaidan Alenko #AU Shepard #Cowboy Shepard #OTP: People Like Us #mallaidhsomo