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commander-yinello · 4 years

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Guardian (Jumin x Zen)

Happy Birthday @maniart1o9!!! For you, I wrote some JuminZen with one of your favorite themes (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ I hope you will enjoy it! Read more under the cut ♥♥ ~_^

Word Count: 1945 Warnings: Mild swearing, smoking, references to a car accident

Jumin knows he’s seen him.

Even upside down, with the airbag so closely pressed to his chest that he couldn’t move, his vision spinning, and the overwhelming scent of gasoline making him dizzy, he sees Zen outside the front window. And he’s glowing, so bright his eyes water. Then, as someone pulls him out of the car, he’s gone.

That’s not possible, assistant Kang insists next to the hospital bed he’s sitting in, both waiting for the doctor to come back. Zen was nowhere near C&R International, and she only just warned the RFA 5 seconds ago of the crash. He could not have possibly arrived here that fast.

Ah. The crash. The car crash. The one Jumin was in because Driver Kim had his day off, and Jumin saw no issue driving to the client himself. The one where Jumin had to swerve to dodge another car cutting off his lane, and caused his own car to topple over and crash against a tree.

She’s right, Jumin thinks, there’s no way Zen could have been at the crash. Most likely stress from the crash, a concussion, his panicked imagination going in overdrive.

Yet, not a minute later, the doctor tells him he doesn’t even have a bruise. As if he never was in a car accident. That should not be possible, the doctor says, and assistant Kang is equally confused. Jumin however, is not.

He is certain now, he’s seen Zen.

And he has a suspicion why.

~~~~

Jumin Han:

Do you sometimes find yourself in places you weren’t before when you travel?

ZEN: Dude it’s 1 AM why are you messaging me

Also wtf are you going on about

Are you high???

Jumin Han: You still replied.

ZEN: Go to sleep and leave me alone, asshole

~~~~

He’s always wondered what was up about Zen. He knows about albinos, they often took great care of themselves when going outside, and sometimes had other health issues. Not Zen, who is so handsome, not that Jumin would admit it out loud. Who is so fit, he jogged daily. Who has no problem taking selfies in broad daylight with no sunscreen or sunglasses in sight. It had been only after Jumin made the last comment, a year ago, that Zen suddenly mentioned jogging at night, or an extensive skincare routine.

Back then, he stopped caring very quickly. It wasn’t any of his business, of course, what the narcissistic man did.

Now he cares again. He remembers how Zen had gotten into an accident, and V told him in full detail how Zen had healed insanely fast.

A handsome albino with super fast healing skills. How very strange, he tells Elizabeth, and she meows in agreement. He pets her while leaning an elbow on his mahogany desk, laptop showing a website of occult creatures.

Maybe he is a vampire. The ones in that one teenage movie sparkle. Which is not a glow, his brain reminds him. Plus the whole sun thing would still be an issue.

He entertains the sexy albino vampire idea a bit too long, before he realizes and cuts his thoughts off on purpose.

Maybe he is too paranoid. Maybe Zen is human. Zen’s allergy for cats seems real, at least. Even though Zen is an actor, Jumin thinks, he hides his emotions poorly.

And then Zen mentions that, sometimes, he has prophetic dreams.

Strange. Very, very strange.

Too many things don't add up for Zen to be human. And Jumin wants to know who he truly is - very much so.

~~~~

Jumin Han: Do you often glow?

ZEN: Of course I do, my beauty is radiant Blessed by the Gods themselves

Jumin Han: Gods. Interesting. Tell me all about them.

ZEN: What? What do you mean? You’re creeping me out Also why are you messaging me again what the hell

Jumin Han: You always reply to me.

ZEN: No I don’t, stupid jerk

Jumin Han: And yet you did it again.

ZEN: Argh! I can’t with you! Screw you!

~~~~

Zen is calling him a weirdo in the chat again. Jerk. Freak. The words have never mattered to him, but now Jumin wonders if it’s a smokescreen. He’s paid very close attention to all of the chatrooms with Zen in it, to the point it felt like stalking. It’s interesting how often Zen brings him up as a topic, even when it’s completely unnecessary.

He starts to understand why Luciel thinks Zen is obsessed with him. Perhaps because there is more than Zen shows.

But Zen denies everything he asks. He denies whatever screenshots Jumin sends him. He insults and denies and rants, and Jumin doesn't get any closer to the truth. At some point, Zen mentions that his behavior is akin to his older brother, but it comes over as an excuse to make Jumin shut up.

To the outside world, it seems that Zen truly despises him. Jumin is just not convinced.

There’s only a few things Jumin knows for sure. Zen was there when he crashed. And it had to be connected to the fact that Jumin came out of the crash completely unharmed. That’s it.

It drives him mad that he is denied more knowledge.

So he makes a decision. He tells assistant Kang to watch over Elizabeth. Heads down to the garage. Opens the car door. Takes a deep breath and wonders if he’s gone insane.

He gets behind the wheel again.

~~~~ Yoosung☆: Hi Zen!!

Jaehee Kang: Hello Zen, good to see you!

ZEN: Hey guys Where’s Jerkmin?

707: Lololol why do you ask~ Could it be.... You miss him??! (~˘▾˘)~

ZEN: What?! Of course not Why would you say that I’m glad he’s not around to spoil the mood! I just find it suspicious he’s not here

Jaehee Kang: Mr. Han said he had something important to do Now I have c-fur on my suit again T_T

Yoosung☆: Poor Jaehee, hopefully you’ll be free soon - Zen has left the chatroom -

Yoosung☆: Ehhhh????

707: Zen suddenly leaving? Now that’s suspicious ರ_ರ

Jaehee Kang: I hope nothing happened to him. ~~~~

Jumin never crashes. The moment he turns on the engine, Zen is there, in front of the car lights, scaring the hell out of him. In a split second, the lamps in the garage flicker, and Jumin swears he sees a faint glowing outline of feathers behind Zen.

Zen is wearing his trademark turtleneck and holds a cigarette in his hand. He takes a drag and blows out the smoke, looking bored, as if he had been waiting.

“You're such a jerk, you know that?” Zen’s voice echoes in the large garage. They are alone. He hears nothing in the background, as if time stands still.

Jumin is too stunned to reply. Zen sighs, and walks to the side of the car, opens the door and takes his place in the passenger seat. He grabs the key from Jumin’s fingers and turns the engine off. The smell of tobacco and cologne fill Jumin’s nose, yet he doesn’t find the will to tell Zen not to smoke in his car.

“If me sitting here will stop you from killing yourself, then so be it,” Zen says, and takes another drag after closing the door.

Jumin realizes his hands still grip the wheel, and he slowly lowers them to his lap.

“What… what are you?” he asks.

“I can’t answer that. You already know way too much because I fucked up. Don't worry, nothing will happen to you,” Zen replies, and the smoke surrounding him makes him look more human.

“And to you?”

Zen looks out the open window instead. “It’s fine,” he finally replies.

That isn’t what he wants to hear. But if nothing would happen to him, then possibly Zen’s punishment wouldn’t be too severe.

Zen’s words do confirm other things - there is some higher power at work keeping Zen in check. And Zen did protect him, he’s sure of it now, from dying. So much so that Zen is in trouble for it.

“You protected me… too much. I should have had some damage,” Jumin says, inadvertently licking his lips. He’s nervous, because the bratty vain actor had been the one standing between life and death for him.

Zen runs a hand through his hair. Maybe Jumin is projecting, but he feels Zen is nervous too.

"I know that, trust fund. I just… couldn’t deal with… that." Zen waves his cigarette-free hand at the air in front of them, trying to stay as cryptic as possible.

He cares too much, Jumin instantly realizes. He watches Zen cross his legs - a defensive stance, Jumin notes - and wonders how much Zen has said in the chatroom is real.

“For someone like you, you aren’t exactly good at keeping it a secret.”

Zen chuckles. “You’d be surprised how much people accept. In fact, the stranger you seem, the less likely they suspect.”

Jumin hates to admit that it made sense. “Are you always fighting me because you have to distance yourself from me on purpose?”

“I can't answer that.”

Can't or shouldn't? Either way, Jumin is content with the answer. Yet, he can’t stop asking questions.

“Does everyone have… someone like you?”

“Not me specifically.”

Jumin makes a mental note to check all sun-loving albinos in the country. “Do you know who else is like you?”

Zen shook his head. “I know there are others. No idea who.”

“Sounds… lonely.”

“...It is.”

Jumin knows all about loneliness. He imagines Elizabeth on his lap, and sees the photo of V, Rika and him on his desk, and hears his father’s voicemail on his phone. So many days he’s convinced only Elizabeth would be there to catch him, when he comes home tired from work and falls down the abyss in his mind. Awful, lonely thoughts.

He wants to ask more. Menial questions like is Zen truly allergic, or deeper ones asking about the forces unknown. Jumin decides that he doesn’t want to push it.

“So… what now?”

“You,” Zen points at Jumin’s chest, “Will stop trying to drive, you menace. I actually like it here, so don’t make it worse.”

Jumin grins. “You like it here? Even with me?”

“Yeah, I know, must suck being guarded by someone you hate.” Zen rolls his eyes.

“I never hated you.”

Zen whips his head towards Jumin, eyes wide.

“Never. Not even when you tried your worst. And now, knowing it is you watching over me… It is a blessing. Thank you, Zen.”

He means it. There is a happy light feeling in his chest, knowing there’s a very logical reason for Zen to act so irrationally towards him. And he knows that he’ll have to act irrational back in order to keep up the facade, so Zen can stay.

He wants Zen to stay.

Zen blushes, and tries to hide it poorly by looking out of the window again. Jumin can’t help but find it endearing. “When you say things like that, people will think you’ve gone crazy.”

Jumin smirks. He doesn’t care what people think of him. Wasn’t there still that rumor of him floating around?

Zen flicks his cigarette stub away and sighs. “Well, I need to go. Take care.”

“Should I, when I have you?” Jumin sasses. It’s too close to flirting to be misconstrued otherwise.

“Wh- N- Whatever, just don’t drive!” he yells. His cheeks are redder, and Jumin notices before the car is filled with a bright light.

Once again, Zen is gone. A very typically Zen to do. Jumin smiles, and sits in the car for a while.

He still has no good excuse when Assistant Kang finally finds him there.

#juzen #juminzen #zumin #jumin x zen #mystic messenger #mysme #fanfiction #my fanfic #omg it's been too long since I wrote fanfic #pls forgive anything OOC #also I wanted this to be longer but no time T_T #why is real life so cruel #still it was v fun to write!#I love supernatural themes *_*#ty mani for ur talent and ideas <3

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daily-jaspvid · 3 years

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Your Ex-Lover Is Dead - Jaspvid fluff

This is the first chapter of my prequel series. This takes place the winter before the show takes place, in which Jasper happens upon David at a party.

This was supposed to be a one-shot, but it is quickly turning into at least 3 chapters. I can’t post the second chapter here, but chapters 1 and 3 will be here! No plot happens in chapter 2, just NSFT content heh.

also the title song! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5Or6-HOveg

Here's part 1! Merry Christmas!

Gem insisted this party would be good; that she had seen this band perform before and how great they were live. With nothing better to do, I decided to tag along. After all, finals were over and we were due to celebrate before we headed home for winter break.

When we arrived Gem was immediately distracted by the punch bowl conversation. From how many people stopped to greet her, I was reminded of how gregarious my friend was compared to me. Not wanting to harsh her style too much, I took my cup of punch towards the dance floor. From the looks of it, the band was starting to set up, so the waiting stereo pumped out indie tunes.

I idly bopped along to a familiar song when a firm force bumps me from behind. I stagger, holding out my drink to steady it. In the next beat, I feel hands brace my waist to steady me. The hands are warm, firm, but didn’t feel of ill intent.

“Oh, sorry about that!” Chirped an equally as warm voice. I turn and the hands pop off me like old stickers peeling away. I see an auburn-haired man who offered a genuinely sorry smile. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied abruptly as anxiety swelled in me. Sure, I was expecting to meet a few new people today, but a cute ginger boy right off the bat? I guess Christmas was coming early.

He wore a red button down and a pair of blue jeans. He appeared to be wearing a band tee, but I can’t figure out who in particular. His face shown with simply the brightest smile I have seen in years. It felt familiar.

“So, uh… you ever see this band before?” I ask after a few awkward seconds of standing together.

“I haven’t. Honestly, this is the first party I’ve been to this semester. I’ve been pretty busy between classes and student teaching. You?”

“Pretty much the same. I’m studying to be a writer. Not as exciting, I’m sure, but it’s an excuse to spend all my free time reading at home.” I admit with a quick and strained smile. Before he could respond, Gem came upon us with one of her friends.

“Hey, you two! See, Cathy? I told you they would get along! We didn’t even have to enact the master plan!” Gem exclaimed, causing Cathy to stifle a laugh.

“David, you’ve met Gem from my psych class,” she motioned to the mutual friend. “So you must be her friend from therapy, was it?”

I shoot Gem a look, which she just shrugged to. Damn psych majors and their gossip. “Yes, Jasper,” I confirm, offering my hand to her. She gives it a firm and professional shake.

“Isn’t he just the cutest, Cathy? Hes such a little crab! It took me weeks to convince him to come!” Gem lamented. She moved in front of me to adjust my clothing, tugging at my popped collar to lay it down. I grimace, hand twitching with a desire to hide my exposed neck. I see David’s eyes flicker down to my neck before looking away, tension filling into his eyes. That was most people’s reaction when they see the scars there. The polite ones, anyway.

The conversation was cut short by the music lowering and a mic switching on. The band introduced themselves as Florist and began playing their easy, folky tunes to the milling crowd. Gem scurried off through the crowd to get closer while Gem hung back to tap away at her phone. Just as quickly as they came, I was once again left alone with the lithe ginger. I spent most of the set watching him from my peripherals. He swayed gently to the music, expression fixated intently on the band. He seemed to pour all of his focus into them and I could feel the aura force field around him, seeming to block everything else out.

Before I could fully process his energy the set was already over. The band thanked us for listening and the previous playlist switched back on. By this point, people were beginning to collect their friends and head out. David seemed to be remembering his place among the crowd and looked around. Our eyes catch each other’s and I find my voice springing out before really even considering my words.

“Hey. You wanna get some coffee?” The words tumble out, and by the time I get to the end of the statement, I can feel myself quivering with unease. If David picked up on this he didn’t show it.

“Yeah, sure! I’d love to!” He chimed. David caught Cathy’s attention to let her know the plan. I felt a little bad about ditching Gem, but it wasn’t like she seemed very keen on hanging around me. It’s what she would want.

When we stepped outside it was, unfortunately, pouring rain. Freezing rain. I unrolled my sleeves to save myself from the cold a little bit.

“Damn, so much for getting anywhere in this. I’ll call us a Lyft.” We hung out on the porch while I set up the ride.

Despite the weather, it arrived within minutes. We ducked in, only made mildly damn. Though the café was only a few blocks away, it felt longer in the silence. Once again I found myself watching him from the corner of my eye. As we turned the block the side of the road through his window showed the dark abyss of dense forest. His reflection in the window became water-warped, and the familiarity finally clicked. I let out a quick huff of my breath, catching his attention.

“Davey?” I asked tentatively. His head snapped up from his phone, eyes wide. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Nobody calls me that. Not since I was a kid - except for Mr. Campbell, but-” He paused, his confused expression shifting to concern as I recoil at the name “Campbell”. Memories of my 11th summer come crashing back to me and I suddenly feel ill. As if on cue, our driver stops to drop us off. I have never been more thankful to stand in the pouring rain.

“Come on, you’ll get soaked to the bone!” David exclaimed, grabbing my hand to pull me into the café.

Thankfully this place had good heating. The cozy café had few patrons. Most people were either at parties or already homeward bound to family. We stepped up to order and it wasn’t until the barista gave us a knowing smile that we realized we were still holding hands. Flustered, we take turns ordering our drinks.

“So… You’re the Jasper I knew all those years ago? From summer camp? It’s been, what, 13 years? Man, it must really be a small world, huh?” He sighed nostalgically.

“Honestly, I’m surprised I recognized you,” I admit with a shrug. “I guess I remember more about that last summer than I thought. For a long time it was such a blur, to be honest.”

We collected our drinks and headed to a space heater in the back of the café. It had a couple of chairs surrounding it that we settled in to. David flopped into his with a heavy, content sigh. I sat more forwardly in mine, resting my elbows on my knees and leaning towards the warmth. I felt numb, like neither the aching cold nor the radiating heat could break through to me.

“You seem sad.” David’s voice broke through the silence once again. It was low and tender as he leaned over to me.

“I’m fine, really, just… a lot is coming back to me, is all,” I chew on my lip and spoke through grit. “A lot of not great thing happened that last summer we knew each other. Not great things that lead to worse things. It isn’t your fault, of course, It's just… forget it.”

David reached out a hand and placed it on my leg, giving it a squeeze. his eyes scanned as if searching for the right words to say but ultimately decided to remain quiet. We sat like this for a few minutes before I pulled out my phone.

“Hey, can I have your number? I’d like to keep in touch again if that's ok?”

“Of course! I would love to catch up!” Davey perked up as he received my phone and punched in his number. “So, what do you like to write?”

Hours soon had drifted by as we conversed. I soaked in every smile and laugh. Craved every new emotion I could draw out of his expressive being. Anything he had to give, really. Davey radiated with life. It poured out of his being, passion radiating like a star.

Oh, God.

I can’t be falling in love.

I feel my breath hitch as I suck in air. Davey notices and pauses his story to ask if I was alright, only for the clock to ding for 4 am. Shit.

“You can crash at my place if you’d like.” he offers as we stand. I feel like I am going to faint back into the chair. Clearing my voice and adjusting my flannel, I nod.

“I’d like that more than anything right now.” I reply, taking up his offer and hoping I don’t sound too desperate. Just like that, we set back off into the rain and caught a ride across town to his apartment.

#jaspvid #cc jaspvid #cc jasper #cc david #mod jasper #writings

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offical-dystopiantale · 5 years

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*Chapter 2: Talk to me..*

Ink: Age 16

Error: Age 17

Part 1

Ink sighed, leaning back against the large oak tree behind him. Error, who sat beside him, looked up from his own math textbook, adjusting his red framed glasses. “You good?”

“My brain hurts.”

Error hummed, closing his book and tossing it aside. “We don’t have brains.”

Ink groaned and rolled his eyes, earning a snort from his friend. “Since when have you cared if something was accurate or not?”

“Since just now.” The taller skeleton took off his glasses, placing them into their special case. “The sun’s gonna go down soon. We should probably head back.”

The two boys were about half an hour out of town, at a small hill with a tree at the top; they found out about the place when they were younger, when Winter had taken them out for a picnic. Once they had gotten their driver's license, it became one of their regular hangout spots; along with Ink’s room.

… Speaking of which, it suddenly occurred to Ink that he’d never actually been in Error’s room. Or his house in general.

“Hey, earth-to-shorty.” Error gave him a gentle push, Ink blew a raspberry.

“Don’t call me that, you jerk.”

Error snorted again, leaning over to rest his arms on his knees. He gave Ink a wink, making the smaller skeleton’s ‘stomach’ do a flip, and his cheeks to flush. “It’s not my fault you’re only 4 feet tall”

Ink sank into his turtleneck sweater, efficiently hiding his ever growing blush. “I’m 4’11, not 4 feet.”

Error scooted closer to him, poking his cheek. “Aw, come on. Don’t be mad, I was only teasing you.”

That’s the problem, you idiot…

Ink had known for a while now that he had feelings for his taller friend. When they first started grade nine he started noticing he enjoyed being with Error more than just a friend would, and he’d get moments where he just wanted to hug him, or cuddle him and fall asleep curled up to his chest, or hold hands as they walked together.

Or kiss him.

He really, really wanted to kiss him.

Shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts, he pushed Error’s hand away and stuck his tongue out. “Not all of us were blessed with incredible height”

.”Awe, you think I’m incredible?” Error wiggled his eyebrows as Ink’s blush darkened.

“Screw you!”

The ebony skeleton erupted into laughter, rocking backward. “You’re like an angry kitten, oh my god!”

Ink huffed, throwing a pencil at his friend, and gathered up the rest of his stuff into his bag. “Oh, whatever. Let’s head back, you big Glitch.”

Error gave a weak chuckle at his nickname, standing up to follow Ink to their car - since the two of them were almost always together, they decided they would buy the car together, and take turns driving.

“Do you want to hang out at my place for a bit? I think my mom was planning on baking cookies today.”

“Oh hell yeah, her baking is the fucking best.”

Ink slid into the car’s passenger seat, laughing and rolling his eyes. “Didn’t you say you were going to work on not swearing so much?

Error started the engine, and it made a whirring noise as it came to life. “I lied. I’m here for a fun time, not a long time, so I’ll say whatever shit I want to.” Ink giggled quietly, but there was a part of that sentence that made a lump form in his throat.

The ebony skeleton switched on the radio, an upbeat song suddenly filling the silence. Ink felt his worries wash away; things were good, they only had one more year of high school after this, and nothing bad was really happening in the world.

And he had Error.

The small monster felt himself relax, singing loudly and happily to the songs on the radio.n Eventually he got his friend to sing as well which only made his cheeks bloom with colour once again.

*****

Error grabbed another one of the still warm cookies off the plate in the middle on Ink’s bed, listening to the smaller monster ramble from the other end of the bed.. He always enjoyed being with Ink in his room; obviously not only because he was with his friend, but because the room was so colourful, cozy, and so very ‘Ink”.

The walls were painted baby blue with a soft gray carpet covering the floor. Above his plush bed - that was easily big enough for the both of them to sit (or lay) on at the same time - was Ink’s rainbow flag. In grade ten, during their school’s pride day, all the students were encouraged to wear rainbow items, or anything that supported the LGBTQ+ community. Ink managed to get Error to wear two buttons- one with the pan flag, and the other one with a rainbow - since he didn’t own any pride items himself, and the smaller skeleton has decided to tie his flag around his neck and wear it like a cape all day.

The poor monster had been bullied ruthlessly by a lot of their classmates because of it, and it came to the point that Error debated beating the shit out of them. He didn’t though, per Ink’s requests.

Now the flag stayed in his home, behind closed doors.

It pissed Error off to no end. He could still remember the way Ink’s eyes had drained of their sparkle when the flag idea backfired.

At least Winter was accepting of her son.

Unlike some people Error knew...

He shook his head, slipping back to the moment at hand.

Next to Ink’s bed was a side table with a glass of water and a lamp sitting on it. Next to the lamp was a framed photo of Error and Ink taken when the where 10 and 11, during their first summer as friends. Error remembered once asking his shorter friend why he decided to frame that photo, and not one that was more recent. The white skeleton had smiled and explained that that photo was extra special because it was taken so soon after they met; and that it meant a lot to Ink that they became friends.

Error didn’t know why someone like Ink cared about him, but he was thankful nonetheless.

“Error?”

The ebony skeleton snapped his eyes away from the picture and focused back on his friend, his cheeks turning blue. He’d completely zoned out, and had no idea what Ink had been saying.

The monster giggled, cheeks coming to life with a dusting of colour. “You got kinda distracted there, you ok?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Uh, sorry, can you repeat what you were saying?”

Ink giggled again, making Error blush harder: it was such a soft sound… it made him want to hold the smaller monster close to him, to find other ways to make him make that sound.

… wait.

What the hell has gotten into me?!

It wasn’t necessarily the first time he had thought something like that, and it always made him do a double take on himself.

He wondered what it meant.

“ I was talking about how I get my braces off in a few months!” He smiled widely, showing off the brackets and wires that covered the surface of his teeth.

Error hummed, then said, “I still don’t understand why you wanted to get those in the first place. The teeth gap was cute.”

Ink’s eyes widened, his blush darkening immensely. He covered his face, grumbling. “No it wasn’t… it gave me a lisp when I started getting older, especially if i was talking fast. Besides, Bylk and his friends said-”

“You shouldn’t listen to what those assholes say.”

“COme on, Error, they’re not that bad anymore…”

Oh, sure. They weren’t ‘that bad’ because Bylk was absolutely terrified of Error, all because he beat his ass back in fifth grade. Truth be told, Bylk was also only 5’6, while Error was a towering 6’0. Not that he was complaining about it, he liked that Ink wasn’t getting harassed as much anymore, but the griffin’s little gang still took jabs at the small skeleton when he was alone (since Error and him only had two classes together this year).

At least they knew better than to actually lay a finger on the skeleton now.

“Whatever, they’re assholes.”

Ink huffed, leaning back against his pillows. “It’s getting late.” He said after a few minutes.

Error groaned, turning to his phone. Sure enough, it was almost 10:30.

Fuck

“Guess I should head home then.”

“Mm… yeah, I guess so. Oh! That reminds me. I’m not going to be at school tomorrow morning!”

“What? Why not?”

“Another doctor appointment.” Ink rolled his eyes, sighing heavily. For as long as Error knew him, Ink had always have to miss at least a day of school every two months for a ‘doctor’s’ appointment. From what the small skeleton had explained, all they did was take a look at his soul, make sure his magic levels were good and somehow they checked to make sure he was feeling things normally.

… Error didn’t really understand it.

“Do they bother you?”

“Eh, not really. They used to make me kinda uncomfortable but, you know. I’ve had so many, they’re normal now.” He let out a small laugh. “That being said, they are pretty annoying.”

The ebony skeleton couldn’t help but wonder what that must be like for Ink; what goes through his head when he really thinks about it.

“I...should be going” Error stood up, grabbing his school bag off the floor.

Ink waved. “See ya, Error!” He called after him as he waved and left the room.

He gave a short goodbye to Ink’s mother - who was sitting at the kitchen table, reading through some papers - and thanked her for the cookies before exiting out into the chilly night air. A wave a dread hit him as he stood at his front door.

Sucking in a breath, he unlocked the door, and pushed it open; praying his father was passed out.

Light from the TV in the living room eerily illuminated the dining room and front entrance. The stairs in front of Error looked like a tunnel, leading into a dark abyss. The seventeen-year-old pulled off his shoes and silently leaned into the living room. His father, Cyber Sona, sat spralled out on the reclining chair, empty beer cans and bottles littering the tables and some floor space around him: some were old, and others were new.

Error’s nose scrunched up in disgust and he quickly left the room; trying to be as quiet as possible as he went upstairs to his room, careful not to wake up his dad. Closing the door, Error sighed, sinking down onto his bed and dropping his bag carelessly onto the floor.

His room wasn’t anything like Ink’s; while his friend’s room was colourful and full of life, his was dark and gray. His bed was pressed against the wall next to the window and pointed towards Ink’s room - there had been many nights where they’d both sit by their windows, talking to each other through their phones. On the wall adjacent to his bed, he had a wooden desk covered in grade school assignments and writing utensils with his laptop sitting on top of it all. He also had a closet for clothes and such, but that was about it.

The house was deathly quiet, aside from the mindless chatter of the TV and occasional snore from the sleeping monster downstairs. Rolling over on his bed, the skeleton plucked his earphones off the cluttered side table next to his bed and plugged them into his phone.

He pressed play on a playlist, setting his phone down beside him, and stared up at the ceiling.

A recognizable numbness washed over him as the music made the house disappear around him, leaving only him...all alone. The feeling usually came when he got home from Ink’s, though sometimes it wasn’t so bad. Some days it was worse. Sometimes it lasted for days at a time, and he could barely bring himself to drag his ass out of bed.

Most days the numbness evolved into a deep and desperate sadness.

He rolled onto his side, pulling his comforter up and over top of him and burrowing his face into the pillow and blankets. He knew that sleep wouldn’t come to him, not yet at least, but the warmth gave him at least a little comfort; like a leash, keeping him tied to the real world and protecting him from falling into his thoughts completely.

Things always got worse when that happens.

#undertale #undertale au #dystopiantale #undertale sans #error sans #ink sans #ink x error #error x ink #errink #errorink

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notwhoiwanttobeyet · 3 years

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tumblr journal [1]

NOTE: hi pLeasE don’t read this. this is just a way of coping with my mental illnesses. this is completely unedited, highly personal and i stRonGLy advise you look away. i hope you’re having a good day! happy holidays :)

also don’t mind the spotify links along the way; just some songs i almost or did cry to while writing this

tw: suicidal thoughts, anxiety attacks, (breast) cancer

hey tumblr,

it’s been a while since i’ve really vented. a lot of us use tumblr as a copying mechanism (me included) and i think it’s important i evaluate my current situation and break things down.

https://open.spotify.com/track/1WVunZLZM2zLTm5rAvKZkF?si=a94u_JAsRX2VCWOD6z4l-Q

exam season is over; i’m on summer break. and that’s great. no more school. no more exams and assignments and testing and all that FUCKING BULLSHIT THAT THE SYSTEM PUTS US THROUGH. i’m sorry, i’m trying to stay calm but it’s so fuckiNg hard. i’m literally going to cry i- so yeah, as we know, towards the end of the year school fucked me over and i really, reaLLY, REALLY wanted to die. so when school finished i was like “oh i must be all good now, right?” but i wasn’t. i was left feeling so numb, to be completely honest (and cliche).

then i got sick which was soooo fucked. apparently a lot of people who went to our small friend kris kringle gathering got sick which sucks but because i spent so much of this year in isolation, i forgot what it felt like to be sick and oh bOY it fucking sucked. i over exaggerated because i’m sensitive and wanted to die. i was sick for like a week and my parents quarantined me because my mum is recovering from a breast cancer surgery and couldn’t afford to get sick so i was like locked in my room- on my own- which yeah, i do anyway but this felt sooo different. this felt like, completely fuckEd because my parents were wearing masks around the house and would leave food in my doorway, etc. i felt like a complete MONSTER to the people i love. i also obviously couldn’t hug them or anything, leaving me touch starved and ugh- it just wasn’t a great experience.

also my mum is recovering fine and stuff but it’s an emotional fucking time for everyone and i’m so stupid i haven’t told anyone about my mum being sick and all. like people don’t ask why i’m acting up because i’m ALWAYS acting up. i’m always sensitive and angry and having mood swings. that’s just me, being mentally ill. so no one asks why i’m worried. my mum has/had BREAST CANCER- brooo. she’s had one surgery which went well and will most likely have to have chemo and/or radiation in the coming year. we get the results back after christmas. so that’s a thing.

i have a secure group of friends which i’ve always wanted, but it doesn’t feel right. it never feels right. like today the three of us went shopping and THEY WENT CRAZY- i was so stressed and had literally like 6 different mental breakdowns in the 2 hours we were out. they were bumping into people, running around, trying on every item of clothing ironically in every store. that shit stresses me out. and there’s nothing wrong with that- they’re good people and they’re not doing anything wrong really - it’s just normal teenage stuff. but i’m note normal, i’m super anxious and everyone was looking at us and it made me sooo uncomfortable. like- i could elaborate more but thinking about it hurts. i felt like i was their mum or something, shepherding them around and making sure they didn’t break anything else. they- UGH// they broke a perfume bottle and rudely ran away from a teacher i have a good reputation with. like i said, they’re just normal teenagers but it fucks me up. it’s not them, it’s me. on the bright side i saw this same lesbian couple i saw the other day again :) i never see wlw or mlm couples in public really so it makes me soo happy when i see them :) i also saw this girl in an unnus annus hoodie and i was gonna say something but i’m too *anxious* so i just stared at her until she looked at me weirdly and i ran out of the store. oH and there was a girl in an mcr shirt ahh-- she was really pretty but i was too busy running it was a whole thing like my mum was coming to pick me up and i had 10 minutes so i ran up from one end of the mall to the other and then upstairs to this store to but this fucking wonderwomen shirt and then i had to run all the way back and i’m not the most athletic to say the least and i wanted to CRY but yeah. what did i learn today? people aren’t for me. friends aren’t for me. and again i know i’m built to be alone.

https://open.spotify.com/track/7wTqEW5nrMhvyEhEyTnOMd?si=ata2BwOPQji3twov9wTZWg

i’m really thirsty. ew not like tha- i fucking hate society

cinnamon rolls not gender rolls. wait my friend got that on a poster let me see if i can find it,,,

yeah here it is ^^^^

also: my hair. i’m so happy having it the length it is but mAn i just- i just- i hate myself lol. like i don’t know what else to say. i think i’m ugly and every time i look in the mirror i want to cry, and it’s going to be like that forever so i need to just except that. i am ugly, i hate myself. like- bro come on. it’s been like this forever and it’s going to continue to be like this forever so i need to stop fucking crying over it.

https://open.spotify.com/track/05JtBVWRtSzqLoj7jj30kn?si=30W4pt7dT8G3cbzaUMqldw

oh my god this song i’m about to cry. this is what i want. why can’t i just be- not me!!!

these past few days i’ve literally been playing minecraft bed wars all day. like all day. and it was okay but now my eyes hurt and my head hurts and my hands hurt and i hate myself and everything hurts.

also- music doesn’t feel right. it’s been like this for a while now, it’s getting better though. before i couldn’t listen to any music at all - now i’ve been listening to kid krow on repeat : )

god bless you, conan. my number one song currently is *cough* E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY LIFE (which they are btw) which is- fucking terrifying and funny at the same time. i genuinely like CORPSE though- i’ve watched every among us stream and i love his songs- in the past i would have considered myself a simp (?) maybe (?) but i had a nightmare about it and i can’t awifjisenf simp no more. i still appreciate him, i just- had an awakening.

sexuality crises also suck a whole bunch. there was a 1-2 day phase a few weeks ago where i was low key PRAYING to be a lesbian lmfao. like it sounds stupid but i was crying over that shit. background info: no i’m not one of those straight girls, i’m a bisexual female who’s almost a full on raging homosexual except i am attracted to men. and i wish i wasn’t, believe me when i say that. but i have realised i am bi so it’s okay. i thought i was a lesbian and awilfjnawr labels but no, i am slightly attracted to men sometimes. but to answer your question if i am lucky enough my future wife and i will be married and living in a cottage.

ugh. life. bru h i’m actually a train wreck- i had an anxiety attack crying trying to find my childhood tinkerbelle and friends dolls the other night. and then to make matters worse, i found them in a box with a whole bunch of other dolls in the same box including StRawBerrY ShoRtCaKe doLLs and i smelt my stawberry shortcake doll hesitantly while crying and she still smelled like her strawberry scent and i was DEAD.

https://open.spotify.com/track/1F6IbA7di42uPc3cff8PXV?si=COKcG_UbQh-GhKYJ5vtIgg

ugh. so this has been my update so far. oh wait-

christmas. holy shit how is it christmas. i want dEatH like. reasons why i’m sad for christmas: it doesn’t feel like christmas so i feel like i’m not going to enjoy it, i’ve had no motivation to clean my room so the contents of my wardrobe is all over my floor because i was mid resorting the drawers when i got sick, i’ve wanted to ask for doc martens and my chemicals romance + other artists’ merch all year but i have SEVERE ANXIETY so of course i didn’t and now my parents have gone and bought me a new phone or something which of course i’m grateful for but my iphone 6s works just fine. it’s a waste of money which we need at the moment but because i’m too anxious i didn’t ask for anything this year so my parents have just chosen to spoil me and- aW SHIT! i can’t=

anyway so that’s my bullcrap life. i mean my bullshit rant. am i glad i did this? yes. do i feel any better? kinDa? i don’t know okay. what am i going to do now? i don’t know. probably lie on the floor and drown in self pity in hopes of melting into the abyss. i might read my book which i’ve yet to finish. maybe reading can be my knew things, seeing as i have zero hobbies. i read like once in a blue moon.

this is it for now, good luck, future me.

sincerely,

jordan ♡

https://open.spotify.com/track/7B3z0ySL9Rr0XvZEAjWZzM?si=HyWPKutjRTuPumafim7_Vw

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monstersdownthepath · 5 years

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Spiritual Spotlight: Yhidothrus, the Ravager Worm

Chaotic Evil Hybrid Fiend* of Age, Time, and Worms

Domains: Chaos, Death, Evil, Repose Subdomains: Ancestors, Demon, Entropy, Murder

The Complete Book of the Damned, pg. 104~105

Obedience: Meditate in a closed coffin partially filled with leech-infested mud or worm-infested soil. During the obedience, you must swallow or inhale at least a dozen living leeches or worms. Benefit: Gain a +4 profane bonus on saving throws against effects that cause magical aging, slowness, or anything that damages, drains, or penalizes ability scores.

Oh man that’s a painful Obedience. Not only have you got to lug around a coffin big enough to fully enclose you, but you have to lug around a coffin packed with a dozen pounds of soil that’s filled with squirming things. I won’t even get into how to hide this ritual from prying eyes or explain yourself if you get caught because it’s basically impossible to do if you’re in a Good-aligned party. If you’re among Evil, you can at least have your allies stand guard while you go eat your breakfast in the seclusion of your coffin so that no innocent civilians see you. Also, hefting that thing around basically necessitates some sort of extradimensional space, or a luggage-strewn cart and a very good cover story if gate guards check the contents out and spot it.

Yeesh, the logistics of this are giving me a headache. A normal funeral-grade coffin is usually as weighty as the corpse it’s meant to contain, but you can likely get by with a shoddy and lightweight one you’ve made yourself. In fact, the Worm may find that charming! Especially when you fill it with dirt and start eating worms in its name. Keeping the coffin filled with life is likely going to be a hell of a project in and of itself, basically necessitating turning the thing into a terrarium; make sure to weatherproof your coffin or it’s going to rot from the inside-out before you even make it a few months into your new faith! The Worm may offer a more generous interpretation of ‘closed’ if your coffin has worm-eaten holes in it, but the more they chew through it, the more likely it is the thing will break open like cheap plywood the next time you lay down.

All that trouble however is worth it, even before getting into the Boons. The benefit from the ritual is huge, basically giving you a +4 on saves versus just about every status ailment in the game, because it says “ANYTHING” that damages, drains, or even penalizes ability scores. Not only are poisons, diseases, and most curses affected, but frightened, blinded, exhausted/fatigued, negative levels, grappled, and many more conditions inflicted as secondary effects from enemy attacks can be more easily resisted thanks to the protection the Worm offers, and this is ON TOP OF the extra resistance versus Slow effects and magical aging. So, yes, this is an A+ benefit!

So lets see what kind of Boons the great devourer of time has to offer...

Boons are acquired slowly: the first once you reach 12 hit dice, the second at 16, and the third at 20. However, the Evangelist, Exalted, and Sentinel Prestige Classes can be entered as early as level 7; doing so grants you the Boons at levels 10, 13, and 16 instead. Servants of demons may also take the Demoniac Prestige Class; you don’t get the Boons any faster than E/E/S, but you may select which Boon set you get, and you get cool demon-related powers!

*Yhidothrus is technically both a Demon Lord and a Qlippoth Lord. This has no effect on whether or not you can enter the Demoniac Prestige Class, but it’s worth noting that its true loyalties will likely lay with the True Rulers of the Abyss. I’m mentioning this because it’s another cute little detail a DM can play with and a character can consider.

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EVANGELIST

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Boon 1: Consumption of the Worm. Gain Corrosive Touch 3/day, Acid Arrow 2/day, or Vampiric Touch 1/day.

Nice! Except for Corrosive Touch, I mean. It’s a melee touch spell that deals only 5d4 damage and, while that may be helpful when you need to break an object, but unless you’re an Evangelist-Fighter/Barbarian, there’s probably someone in your party better at breaking things. Both Acid Arrow and Vampiric Touch are better, with VT granting you some much-needed vitality when trapped in an enemy’s melee radius, and Acid Arrow’s low damage somewhat mitigated by the fact that it’s ongoing and stacks with itself.

Three damage spells with very obvious uses. Makes them easy to cover and move on, at least! I’d personally stick with Acid Arrow unless you Evangelized yourself from a more melee-oriented class.

Boon 2: Nightmare Below. You gain a burrow speed of 30ft that can be used to tunnel through sand, mud, soil, or other soft substances. You have +10 to Stealth checks while burrowing. Once per hour as a standard action, you can burst from the ground with a terrifying roar; all creatures within 30ft of your emergence that were unaware of your presence must make a Will save (DC 10 + 1/2 your HD + your Cha mod) or be stunned for 1 round and shaken for 2d4 rounds after. The burrow speed is an Extraordinary, but the emergence ability is a Supernatural mind-affecting fear effect.

I appreciate that there’s no indication as to how your character burrows, so I assume you move just like a worm does, slinking through the ground like an accordion. However, note that the burrowing IS an Extraordinary ability, not a Supernatural one, so there’s some sort of physical action going on that you presumably need at least one limb for. Perhaps you’re just eating the dirt?

Anyway, a semi-permanent burrow speed--and a decently speedy 30ft one, at that--rates pretty high on ‘things that are spooky for players to have’ because of the nonsense players can think up. Grappling someone and dragging them underground and leaving them there is just one of the many shenanigans you can pull. Being more than 5ft underground makes you immune to a great many attacks and spells, making it a solid defensive option too! However, as strong as this ability could be, it’s held back by something that’s extremely important:

You can’t see anything while underground.

Creatures that can burrow normally navigate by Tremorsense or the power to see through earth, but unless you’re a really weird race or have specific and rare magic items/effects on you, you’re as blind to your enemies as they are to you. That puts a huge damper on an otherwise incredibly powerful ability, because it forces you to rely on an above-ground ‘spotter’ to help you find your way around... Unless, of course, you pop your head out like a meerkat every so often to check on your surroundings, but that also runs the risk of ruining your terrifying arrival.

The terrifying arrival is a pretty good initiator, if we’re being honest. Sneaking around and seeing where your foes are clustered before burrowing over to that spot is a decent way to have a bunch of them trip over their own feet trying to get away from you... Or, rather, not getting away at all due to the supernatural stun. Stunning even one or two enemies out of a group of 6~10 during the surprise round means two less enemies get to roll initiative before being cut down. You have to give up your standard action to do it, but it’s a decent Save-or-Suck if your allies are waiting in the wings, ready to pounce when you explode from the ground like the world’s filthiest jack-in-the-box.

Boon 3: The Very Worm That Gnaws. When you perform your Obedience upon attaining this Boon, you are devoured utterly by the worms, your consciousness transferring into the swarm. You gain the Worm That Walks Template. Creatures that become shaken by your Nightmare Below emergence are also sickened for 1 minute.

Alright, alright alright alright ALRIGHT ALRIGHT ALRIGHT

This represents one of the very, very few ways for a player character to obtain a Template this powerful without jumping through some pretty hefty hoops. I mean, yes, you have to serve the Ravager Worm for years and years without being put down permanently, and you also have to meditate in a wormy coffin for more or less the entire time... But by god does it ever pay off.

Worm That Walks is one of the stronger Templates one could ever hope to obtain. Not quite on the level of the Vampire or the Lich, but certainly in the upper tiers, and with fewer obnoxious weaknesses! You become immune to physical single-target spells and effects, as well as spells/effects which target a specific number of creatures, such as Disintegrate and Magic Missile due to your wormy constitution, though you remain vulnerable to mind-affecting effects or effects which attack your senses. However, a great number of powerful effects such as Slow, Finger of Death, Harm, and most forms of Smite simply do not work against your innumerable tiny bodies, which can die off in droves without harming your overall consciousness. In fact, the worms comprising your form breed with such alarming swiftness that you gain Fast Healing equal to your CR (which is typically roughly equal to your level, but you gain an automatic +2 from the Template) and they reflexively dodge out of the way of incoming attacks so fluidly that they grant you DR 15/--.

Yes, you read that right. Fast Healing 18 (at least) and an insurmountable DR 15. If you were the party caster before becoming an Evangelist, you are no longer squishy in the gamer sense of the word. And if you were the party tank? You’re basically indestructible now, aside from your unfortunate weakness to area-of-effect attacks (from which you take half-again as much damage). The DM should be wary of people wanting to worship the Ravager Worm, if only because of how hair-pullingly resilient a WTW can be if played right. You even overcome the WTW’s biggest weakness, in that once they drop below 0 HP they become permanently staggered and lose access to all of their defensive abilities (including Fast Healing and DR), because Nightmare Below allows you to dig down to safety until you can recover.

I really don’t want to stretch this little article any more than I should, despite the fact that a character becoming a Worm That Walks is a huge can of worms that deserves a lot of explanation, but here: Take a look at the Template’s page again for yourself. Just take a look at all the stuff you get! I will close with a note for DMs though: if you find yourself needing to keep an unruly PC in check, note that their life becomes inextricably linked to the Ravager Worm’s will now. As written, you do not lose the template if you fail your Obedience (which, by the by, is much easier to perform now that you are the worms)... But failing too often for too long could cause Yhidothrus to simply cease providing you with divine energy, unbinding your mind from the worms and killing you instantly before pulling you into its Abyssal palace.

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EXALTED

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Boon 1: Blessing of the Worm. Gain Ray of Enfeeblement 3/day, Gentle Repose 2/day, or Slow 1/day.

In case you forgot that Yhidothrus was related to time, here’s a good reminder! Gentle Repose is a bit of an odd duck since the Worm holds dominion over the negative aspects of time’s passage, such as the wearing down of one’s body and mind as the ages move on. Stopping time from devouring the dead, then, is strange for the Worm to grant.

And I wouldn’t take Gentle Repose or Ray of Enfeeblement, either, since Slow is available and can completely turn an encounter on its head with a single casting. That’s all you get, but that’s all you really need. This one was easy to do, too, letting us move on to the meatier Boons here...

Boon 2: Curse of Brittle Bones. 1/day, you can cast Heightened Bestow Curse at 7th level as a spell-like ability. This curse is unique, advancing the victim to venerable age and imposing a -6 penalty to Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution without granting them bonuses to their mental ability scores. These penalties do not stack with age-related penalties already present.

The save DC against this ability is 17+Cha mod, a high enough save that whoever you swat with it will likely struggle to surmount it. However, this is a touch attack negated by a successful save with an effect that does not instantly end combat on its own, which you all know by now is something I do not like seeing. Age penalties can’t reduce a victim’s stats below 1, and while this is a curse effect and not listed as an aging effect, it’s commonly accepted that Constructs, Undead, Outsiders, and Dragons simply do not age as mortals might and thus this curse would have no effect on them.

However, NONE of those creature types are inherently immune to aging effects unless it is specifically mentioned in their individual sheets. They can still experience the ravages of time, they just have to be magically forced to do so. especially in the case of Dragons (which normally get more powerful as they age) and Outsiders (which remain in physical stasis until something forces them out).

In case that’s not a convincing enough argument, the language of the ability is also important; the curse advances the target to venerable age, but it’s a separate sentence entirely that says “this curse imposes a–6 penalty to the target’s Strength, Dexterity, and Constitution scores,” which requires emphasis as it clarifies that it is the curse itself which brittles the victim’s bones, rather than their new head of gray hairs.

... anyway, all that being said, I still don’t really like it. Probably the most important part is the fact that -6 Dex means -3 AC and -3 to Reflex saves, while the penalty to Con means the victim loses 3 HP per HD they have. It combos well with stat-damaging poisons or spells, but on its own it’s pretty underwhelming.

Boon 3: Call of the Worm. 1/day, you may place your hand to the ground and whisper a prayer to the Ravager Worm. This acts as Summon Monster IX as a spell-like ability, except it always calls an avatar of Yhidothrus (an Advanced Fiendish Purple Worm) to your aid.

THIS, however, is anything but underwhelming. Aside from SM9s painful casting time of one full round (which can be mitigated by using it just before combat, or to initiate), being able to call a CR 14 encounter to your side even once a day is pretty big for a Boon. Sadly not as meaty as some final summons, as a Purple Worm is little more than an enormous tube into which enemies are shoveled (as you can read here), but the Advanced and Fiendish Templates at least give it a few new toys to play with in the form of a +2 to all the numbers it hits enemies with and a +2 to its AC. Fiendish also grants it 10 Resistance to both Cold and Fire, DR 10/Good, Spell Resistance 16, and a further +1 to attack and damage rolls versus Good targets.

If you need enemy mooks to back off, an enormous Purple Worm will either send them scattering or swallow them all down one by one. There’s also the potential to use it as an enormous battering ram, slamming its cow-sized head through walls and doorways because, lets be honest, a 35 in Strength means that only mithral and adamantine really stand a chance of keeping a Purple Worm out of whatever location you’ve decided it very much deserves to be in.

Given the casting range of SM9, ‘location’ can also mean ‘directly next to the enemy’s backline.’ Just note a few important things: While this is a spell-like, it has built-in somatic and verbal components in that you must put one hand on the ground and you must be able to speak a prayer to Yhidothrus. No having the monstrous aspect of your lord come to your rescue while you’re bound and gagged! Secondly, since it’s specifically a summoning, it can be dispelled or banished with relative ease. It also only lingers for 1 round/level, unlike a Called creature would, so you likely only get to summon the beast for one big battle.

Still, though, how many priests can summon a reasonably powerful facsimile of their own god to their aid? I think the fact it looks like Yhidothrus is a nice touch, though it’s a bit of a flavor snarl since no one has ever seen the back end of the Ravager Worm, while a Purple Worm very obviously has a backside (that’s where the stinger is).

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SENTINEL

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Boon 1: Hasten the End. Gain Expeditious Retreat 3/day, Silence 2/day, or Sands of Time 1/day.

I’ve spoken of Sands of Time before, so I won’t reiterate much here other than I wouldn’t take it when Silence is an option. Expeditious Retreat also pales in comparison to the tactical applications of Silence, since you can slap the dampening field on yourself or an ally to assist with sneaky sneak missions... Or, you know, slapping it on your hulking martial self and then charging at the enemy caster to tie them up for the rest of combat. The number of spells that can solve that situation which can also be used in Silence can be counted on one hand with fingers left over, and it quickly spells death for the poor fool you slither towards.

Silence ends encounters, is what I’m saying, and can sometimes do so without even offering a saving throw. Faced with that kind of utility, why take something as paltry as +30 to your walking speed, or waste your valuable action making a touch attack that may end up doing nothing?

Boon 2: Specter of Time. As a swift action after confirming a critical hit with a weapon against a living foe, you may instead deal normal damage and force the target to make a Fortitude saving throw (DC 10 + 1/2 your HD + Cha mod). Failing the save causes the victim to painfully advance into the next age category, taking all the penalties to their physical ability scores but gaining no benefits from their advancing age. This is a curse effect which lasts for 24 hours, and the creature returns to their normal age if they die. A venerable creature (this does not include creatures who have become venerable through a means beyond natural age, or this ability, such as through Sands of Time) that fails a saving throw against this ability is immediately slain and can only be raised with Reincarnate, Wish, Miracle, or True Resurrection.

And here’s even more reason to not take Sands of Time, it doesn’t even work with this ability!

Not to say that this ability is particularly good, mind. You need to confirm two or even three critical hits to kill most creatures, and confirming two or three critical hits will typically kill the creature through damage anyway. I do appreciate that there’s no per-day limit on this ability, letting you just use it whenever you have the swift action to do so and potentially swatting some stats off an enemy at the cost of damage... provided you can make it past their Fortitude. Yeah, complete negation by a save really makes Big Damage more attractive in most cases, except for the times when you can’t kill a creature through damage alone (such as if you have nothing to overcome a creatures Regeneration). This ability does get better if you have a crit build, obviously, but again--once you have a crit build in place, why would you want to do less damage?

That being said, critting an enemy that’s already venerable and forcing them to save or die is satisfying. The ancient warlord facing you in single combat, the elderly wizard who stepped a little too far forward, the old Rogue ready to teach you a new trick (play dead)... Just swatting the life out of them with a confirmed crit is tasty, especially since them being venerable means a -6 to Constitution, and thus a -3 to Fortitude saves in the first place.

Boon 3: End Time. "You can call upon the Ravager Worm to temporarily consume time itself in an area surrounding you. You can cast Time Stop once per day as a spell-like ability. When you use this ability, those in the area of effect are subjected to a powerful vision—that the world they are in becomes wrapped in the endless coils of the Ravager Worm. The affected creatures never glimpse Yhidothrus’s head, and know only for the brief instant of eternity they spend in your Time Stop area that the world around them is fully wrapped in the coils of something more foul than they even imagined.“

I quoted this directly from the book/website rather than simplifying it for a few reasons, mainly because it’s difficult to simplify this down. Why? Because Time Stop is not an area of effect spell. It affects you and ONLY you, speeding you up to the point that everything else appears to have stopped moving. Other creatures are not affected and do not even realize what you’ve done because, for them, basically no time passed at all.

This ability is worded as though it reverses how Time Stop works, instead trapping everyone around you in stopped time for a subjective few seconds while you slither off to do your evil deeds, subjecting them to the knowledge that the Ravager Worm exists and has circled the whole of Golarion a thousand times over. In fact, looking into it, NO version of Time Stop works like this ability’s wording suggests it does; D&D 3.5 and 5th Edition and Pathfinder 1st Edition all note that Time Stop affects only you.

The ability says “consume time itself in the area surrounding you,” which would seem to indicate that time only stops for a small section of the land containing you, but gives absolutely no details about how big this area is. For the sake of saving myself further headaches and further article space uselessly hammering against this concept, we’ll say that time only stops for an area that is 300ft around you. That way, everyone in that area (including your allies!) knows something is truly, deeply, and terrifyingly wrong. If people in the area weren’t alerted to your presence before, they will be now, provided they don’t immediately flee because--honestly--suddenly having your field of vision dominated by endless greasy coils of a pitch black worm and being forced to Know that their world is caged by this horror? Terrifying enough to make the weaker-willed quit on the spot. There’s no mechanics attached to this vision, but I like to think of it as the mother of all intimidation tactics.

Let me put it this way:

You can force your enemies to come to terms with the fact that Pathfinder is a cosmic horror story.

And that’s beautiful! Did you think your petty squabbles actually mattered in the face of the machinations at play beyond this pathetic world? No. And I’m here to tell you that, personally. I’ve appeared in your throne room to do so!

And that’s all you, the martial Sentinel, can really do with Time Stop, because without any easily-deployed traps, scrolls, or magic items or whatnot, you can’t actually make use of the rounds of freedom like a caster could. If you were a martial caster before entering Sentinel, good on you! You’ve got some extra rounds to get your buffs going! But for Barbarians, Fighters, and other Hit Things Hard classes, you don’t really get as much out of this as you may believe. Except, again, scaring the absolute everything out of everyone in the area not expecting their vision to suddenly be overwhelmed by nightmares.

Just... warn your allies ahead of time. Or don’t! It’s funnier that way!

You can read more about it here.

#Spiritual Spotlight #Sinister Spotlight #worms #maggots #ask to tag #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons

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persephonescat · 5 years

Text

Birds and Other Supernatural Phenomenons

New chapter??? Already??? Yeah, don't get used to it, I have so many exams this week (and the next one too), that I think I'm gonna just straight up die. So naturally, I'm procrastinating. Yey.

(This wasn't edited nearly as much as any of the other chapters, even though I wrote at least ten different opening scenes for it. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.) And apparently, my aesthetic is writing Gotham's weather. I have no idea how that happened.

Warning for violence!

Ch. 1 Previous Next Masterpost AO3

________________

Ch. 7: Light and Darkness

Life sucks.

Sometimes, she stared into the darkest abyss and even the mere existence of it terrified her. Other times, she looked back at her life and thought, "the abyss would be pretty comfortable, after all".

She didn't know when her life turned into a cheap video-tape. The sounds were distorted, and the protagonist was horrible, but she kept watching it anyway.

***

The rain was flooding the gray streets of Gotham. The streetlights were dimmed by the thick curtain of dust and fog. Neon billboards flickered over shops, the cars sprinkled dirty water on the few pedestrians who didn't run from the weather as if it was the plague.

The rain disturbed Marinette's senses. Dick's quiet swearing was oppressed by the deafening sound of dropping water and shrieking vehicles. There were too many smells. Her vision was blurry, her red raincoat didn't protect her from getting soaking wet. She put her insensate hands in her pockets to keep them from shaking violently, but it still took all her self-control to keep herself together.

"'You okay?" Dick shouted on her right side, giving up the fight with the umbrella she gave him and settling for a small coverage over his face.

"Yes," shouted back Marinette, but her voice was lost in the downpour.

"We're almost there!" He tucked the girl a little closer and tried to get the umbrella to protect her.

"I know," she muttered even though there was no way he could've heard her.

The buildings were closing over their heads, merging with the dark clouds. A car passed beside them, and Marinette screwed her eyes shut. It was too loud.

"Marinette?" she heard a familiar voice say. Suddenly, it was easier to breathe.

"Adrien?"

"God, are you okay? I've been looking for you." She could finally see him in his large, black raincoat, rushing towards her with an umbrella.

"Sure," she muttered, hoping her voice didn't tremble from the cold. She was grateful that he spoke in English instead of French, it would've been considerably harder for her to keep her cover otherwise.

Adrien stood next to her, holding the umbrella over her head. He only then seemed to notice the man on her side, and she wondered if he was just pretending to be normal or if he really didn't pay attention.

"Hi! Who are you?" he asked Dick kindly, but Marinette could hear the wariness in it.

"Umm..." Dick seemed to be lost in thought for a second before he answered. "Hi. My name is Dick. You are Marinette's classmate, right?"

"Yes, I am." He paused and smiled politely. "I think we should go, it's very cold out here." He was waiting for Marinette to agree, but she didn't say anything.

"Of course. I've to go too, I'm really late for work," Dick said, glancing at the Wayne Tower. "Thanks for the umbrella," he smirked one last time before shoving the dripping object into Adrien's hand and making a run for the tower. They both stared at him as he cut his way through the rain.

"Come on, let's get you to somewhere warm," said Adrien, finally turning to her. "Can I touch you?"

A few years ago, Marinette told him how uncomfortable she felt sometimes when people touched her. Since then, he always asked for her permission, especially when she was in a bad mood. She had a strong urge to roll her eyes dramatically every time he did it. It was so... Adrien of him. He always respected people's boundaries. Maybe that's why he didn't fight his father.

The guilt was climbing up inside Marinette's throat as she remembered her investigation on Hawkmoth. Half a year ago, she started suspecting it was Gabriel Agreste, but she said nothing. Now she was almost sure and still didn't tell anyone. Not even Master Fu. She knew that if something happened to her, Tikki would tell him what he needed to know. If for some reason - Marinette didn't even want to think about that, - she couldn't, she had at least four different ways to make the guardian know.

She looked at Adrien. He seemed to be happy. His years as Chat Noir made him more confident. He was a lot like Chat now, just like how she was more and more like Ladybug. Psychologically, it was fascinating. In practice, it terrified her sometimes.

Instead of answering, she hugged Adrien's waist with one arm as they walked to the nearest diner.

***

After some getting some hot cocoa and warm food, - they both knew Marinette was not the best at eating healthily and regularly, he sat down beside her and put her freezing hands between his, warming them up. She gave him a grateful half-smile.

"Next time you decide to disappear, you could really send me a text or something. I tend to check the weather forecast, unlike some people," he said. "Why did you have a raincoat and an umbrella on you anyway?"

Marinette was starting to feel her hands again, and her mind was no longer screaming from confusion.

"I tend to come prepared, unlike some people, who constantly forget to bring a toothbrush to trips," she said mockingly.

"I mean, I don't do that constantly," he protested.

"Every. Single. Time," she told him. "I think I actually brought two spares, just in case."

"Nah, I'm good, Nino brought one for me too," he muttered, avoiding her gaze. Marinette snorted.

***

The teachers gave them the afternoon off again. The rain stopped around noon and Gotham was swimming in sunlight. The wet streets were glimmering as the light touched the asphalt, people slowly poked their heads out of their homes, a few annoyed cats were roaming around, showing off their wonderfully dry pelage.

Marinette walked slowly, admiring the sky-high buildings and silently memorizing all the shops and alleys she went by. There was a chance she was going to forget most of it by tomorrow, and once again, she cursed her brain for needing so much sleep.

St. Anthony Street was not a pretty view. Thanks to the rain, Joanne's blood was painting small, brownish-red veins on the concrete. The original red puddle was still visible, and even though it faded a lot, it was big.

Near the large, rust-colored spot, there was a smaller one. 'Must be where her hand fell next to her side,' Marinette realized. That would mean the girl entered the street from where Marinette stood, the attacker jumped at her almost immediately, and she fell backwards. The paper said the wounds were on her chest and torso, so she must've landed on her back, then the attacker stabbed her twelve times and took the murder weapon with them. Marinette could replay the scene in her mind.

Joanne must've been in a hurry because she doesn't notice someone already waiting for her. The attacker grabs her hands to keep her from escaping and knocks her back. Then they get their knife out and Joanne screams, but nobody bothers to check what's wrong. The attacker stabs her again and again. At some point, the girl is conscious enough to touch her bloody T-shirt and try applying pressure on a wound. It doesn't matter. Then her hands fall to her sides, her bloody palm leaving a mark on the asphalt, and the murderer finally stands up, looking at the body in front of their eyes. They're panting heavily. They leave with the knife, their clothes sprayed with blood.

Twelve stab-wounds would clearly state it was personal, but when it comes to hate crimes like this, it's usually pretty obvious who did it. Not many people have enemies capable of something like this.

There were multiple faults in her version of the events.

She walked around the dark spot slowly, hundreds of ideas crossing her mind, most of them faulty and unusable.

She rubbed her face frustratedly. If she wanted to make something out of this, she needed to sleep first.

She took off her red backpack with the black-and-white apple blossoms she made a few years prior - when she realized that the lock pick set, the handbooks, the Swiss Army Knife, the skein, scissors and needles, her not-so-secret green tea stash, the matches, her phone and the small army of power banks she always carried with her didn't fit her old purse anymore, not to mention Tikki and her cookies.

She took out the thermostat of coffee she got on the way back with Dick and drank half of it in one gulp. Now that she was thinking about it, she might've liked coffee after all. Tikki and Kaalki both frowned at her in perfect sync inside the bag but given they were in the middle of the street, they didn't say anything.

Marinette checked the time and decided to stick around for a little more. She was wandering the block slowly, noting all the broken doors and windows on the way.

She was examining St. Anthony Street for the fourth time when she noticed something in the few threads of grass sticking out where the road and the pavement met. She went closer.

For a moment, she thought it was a wrapper or a piece of plastic, but as she took it between her gloved fingers, she realized it was a small, round wooden-bead painted ultramarine blue.

Three days passed since the incident. Anyone could've lost a single bead since then. Actually, it might've been there for weeks, but she still slipped it into her pocket before going back to the Wayne Tower.

________________

Comments are like macarons: fun. They're fun. That's it. I'm tired. Please share your thoughts!

Ch. 1 Previous Next Masterpost AO3

Tag list: (You want to get on the tag list? Send a comment! You should be on the tag list but you aren’t? Send a comment! You would like to discuss world peace and/or brownies? Send a comment!)

@northernbluetongue @vgirl-10123 @theatreandcomicfreak @interobanginyourmom @crazylittlemunchkin @zerotosiki @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @my-name-is-michell @shreky-boi @coltaire @panda3506

#Birds and Other Supernatural Phenomenons #damari #maribat #Light and Darkness #damiette #daminette #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #marinette dupain-cheng #damian wayne #dcu #mlb #fanfiction #batman #writerblr

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cl-babydew · 6 years

Text

CARTOONLOVER REACTS

Ducktales:

Season 1 episode 2 “The Depths Of Cousin Fethry!”

(Let’s begin!)

1.) 3 Leap years?!?! Did I hear that right?!

2.) Hi Dewey! Ya look like Lou Lou! XD

3.) HUEY! Ew!!!!! Don’t lick it!!

4.) Every things more exciting then that sweetie....

5.) The can is Ben! XD

6.) I didn’t notice this was your office at first! XD

7.) HIS CUTE SLOPPY HAIR! 😱😍🤩😆

8.) FETHRY!!!!! 🤩

9.) Sooo he’s like another Gladstone huh? XD

10.) Well dang!

11.) Omgosh that is so Huey! XD

12.) “Best time waste ever!” OMGOSH XD ALSO THEY SUNG THAT AHHHHHXHXYXTXUGXYX THAT WAS ADORABLE! XD Can we just keep harmonizing like this in every episode?!

13.) “Wait...did we just still the sub?!” PFFFFF! XD Yes Huey...y’all did!

14.) Dewey! XD Poor Hue...

15.) “-he’ll name after me!” Oh my precious Dewdrop! XD

16.) “The great blue dewfin?” It’s not bad to me LaunchPad...its ok.

17.) THERE’S A FISH NAMED AFTER YA DEW! XD

18.) Uhhh ok?! You could show more respect for that fish tho! XD

19.) “-name it something cooler.” Dewey.....weren’t YOU the one who thought of that name before you knew it was already taken by that fish?!?!?! 🙈

20.) *rips out connection* DEWEY!!! 🤣

21.) Just running into it is good too! XD

22.) “Good start to an adventure, I’m liking this.” I’m not! XD

23.) “Alright! Let’s go meet a genius!” Huey your a genius! XD Gyro’s one, Fenton’s one!!!!! Scrooge is one! What are all of you?! Chopped liver?!

24.) *something calling LaunchPad’s name* Ohhh noooooo!!!🙈

25.) HOW MANY PEOPLE DO YOU POSSIBLY KNOW LAUNCHPAD?!?!? XD🙈

26.) IT’S A TRICK, DON’T GO!!🙈

27.) Guys he sounds really close to Fenton!!!! XD (Ik it’s not Lin! Ik who it is)

28.) Little Donald’s! Awwww! X3

29.) “-what’s that thing that does the thinking-BRAIN!” Are we sure this is a genius Huey....?! XD

30.) “Uncle Donald’s favorite cousin!” Sureeeeee....

31.) “Yea...he sends his love.” 🤣🤣🤣🤣

32.) “Uhhhh yes?” UHHHH NO!

33.) You literally just went in circles! XD

34.) “And watch your children please.” Ummmmmmmm well.....

35.) “Well-ignore everything I just said.” I will not! I’m worried about my kids now, thank you!

36.) “Embracing the unending darkness, becoming one with the abyss.” Ummmmmm can we go home now where the Louie’s roam.....

37.) I love how he calls them little Donalds and not little Dellas! X3

38.) “Wow this guy kinda sounds like you.” Yeaaaaaaaa

39.) Crazy!

40.) THAT’S EVEN GROSE! XI

41.) “Weird...your both really into weird stuff.” Exactly...

42.) “You found one of your own.” EXCUSE ME BUT I WAS FINE WHEN WE HAD FENTON!

43.) Is that a Dewfish!? XD

44.) “-lose yourself to science.” Huey....he’s lost his self years ago!

45.) “It must be the hyper thermal vents!” (Something like that.) Me and You Dew...me and you! XD

46.) His “team” Huey, is most likely not what you think!

47.) Ummmmm....he just fell in the floor...

48.) MY CHILD!!!

49.) NOT THAT THING!😫

50.) MY CHILDREN!

51.) It’s our worst nightmare that’s what!

52.) So it’s NOT a plant!!! THEY ARE WORMS!!!?? THAT JUST MAKES EVERYTHING WAYYYY WORSE!! HUEY YOU NEED TO GO TO A HOSPITAL AFTER THIS EPISODE!

53.) *says to be gentle and show care* HUEY YOU TAKE THIS TOO FAR! I BLAME FETHRY THO!

54.) “If you kill me I will NOT name you after me!” Dewey I don’t think you want too! 🙈

55.) “I love you?” *laugh, then cries*

56.) “Your not the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen?” Dewey you suck at this!🙈

57.) OHHH NOOO!! IT’S COMING!!!!🙈

58.) I was right! He did it cause he had to save Dewey!🙈

59.) OH THAT’S SO DISGUSTING!!! 😣 HUEY IM TAKING YOU TO THE HOSPITAL AFTER THIS!

60.) Dewey shut up and breathe! XD He saved your life!

61.) I KNEW IT! WHAT DID I SAY?! Huey...I’m sorry....

62.) How is that easier to remember?!

63.) *takes out their books* OH GOSH!!!!!! I’m sorry Hue, but your alone on this one!

64.) “I’m not that into the Junior Wood Chucks-“ RIGHTTTTTTTTTTTT! XD

65.) “Hobby...” MORE LIKE YOUR LIFE! XD

66.) Stop being creepy!

67.) I just realized something...WHERE’S LAUNCHPAD?! WHY CAN’T WE EVER SEE WHAT HE’S UP TO?!?!?!😫

68.) “Oooo..........CEAN!” XD Beautiful!👏

69.) Huey...are...are you sure about that?! XD

70.) Them taking off the thing on their heads was so cute! XD DEWEY’S HAIR JUST POOFS BACK UP!!!

71.) 4 IN A HALF YEARS!!!!!!???

72.) Dewey...calm...Ik how you feel...but calm...

73.) “YOUR NOT A SCIENTISTS!” THAT’S WHAT I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YA HUE!🙈

74.) Omgosh! XD I love this side of Huey!!!!

75.) “Now that is a Dewey!” DEWEY NOT NOW!!! XD

76.) MY CHILD!

77.) “It probably will!” Yea! XD

78.) Huey do the right thing, which I have no idea what that is, but just do it! 🙈

79.) YAYYYYY A HUEY SONG AHHHHHH YASSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!😫😫🤩🤩🤩🤩😍😍😆😆😭😭😭😭😱😱😱

80.) That’s was beautiful Hue! XD👏

81.) DEWEY!

82.) GO HUEY!

83.) Trust your brother Dew!

84.) Good boy... :)

85.) That’s a nice one Dew!!!!

86.) Yea so when your a scientist you’ll be better...

87.) Bye I guess?!

88.) “He’s is so incredibly weird.” Tell me bout it...don’t...

89.) “Little Fethry.” AWWWWWWWWWW MY HEART!!!😍😍😭 BROTHERLY LOVEEE!

90.) *Launchpad shows up* WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?!

91.) LAUNCHPAD BRING ME NEXT TIME THIS HAPPENS FOR HEAVENS SAKE!!!

92.) Fycyctxt I’D LIKE TO KNOW!!!!

93.) You guys notice that this is like another Gladstone ep, cuz LaunchPad went on his own last time, AND they met Gladstone!

94.) THIS WAS LOUIE’S IDEA?! EXCUSE ME BUT LOUIE WASN’T WITH YOU!!!

(Soooo Louie wasn’t in here like we thought he would be...that’s sad....I thought they would of done what they did to Dew... :( ANYWAYYY! This episode was ok! Not my fav tho...it was just ok. See y’all next time!)

#ducktales 2017 #ducktales #cartoonlover reacts #season 2 #episode 2

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theolddarkmachine · 5 years

Text

Four Years- Victory Lap

It’s his first year of college, and Takashi Shirogane understands many, many things.

He understands the extreme value theorem they’re currently covering in his 8am calculus class, and Rolle’s theorem that it helps to prove.

He understands the basic theories of astrophysics, and how they’ll apply to, hopefully, his future in astronautics.

He even understands fluid mechanics theory, even if just barely.

But what he doesn’t understand, is the boy with the night pitch hair, and eyes colored like dark amethyst. More specifically, he doesn’t quite understand his burning look that only seems to linger on him, even an hour removed from their game.

Which, he’d lost.

That’s another thing he doesn’t quite understand.

Though, maybe that’s just the alcohol talking.

Part 5 of 5

AO3

Tags: Shiro POV, All Four Years Wrapped Into One Neat Chapter, NSFW no really, this chapter only exists to write the sex scene i didnt get to fit in senior year lol

A/N: SURPRISE! Bet y’all thought I was gone, huh? help me its been.... a rough month to say the least lol Anyway, hope this last bit of the Frat AU is worth the hellish wait I put y’all through!

Also, please excuse any scientific/mathematical inaccuracies. I have but one brain cell, Google, and a science friend who tried her best.

***************************

It’s his first year of college, and Takashi Shirogane understands many, many things.

He understands the extreme value theorem they’re currently covering in his 8am calculus class, and Rolle’s theorem that it helps to prove.

He understands the basic theories of astrophysics, and how they’ll apply to, hopefully, his future in astronautics.

He even understands fluid mechanics theory, even if just barely.

Which, he’d lost.

That’s another thing he doesn’t quite understand.

Though, maybe that’s just the alcohol talking.

“He hates me,” the alcohol also talks, as Shiro stares into the abyss that is the Beta house’s backyard.

“Who hates you?” Lance asks from beside him, voice bored as he lets his gaze roam over the party. Something at the edge of the alcohol blur in his mind tells him Lance doesn’t quite care, but he humors him anyway.

He’s a good friend, Shiro thinks, dropping his back against the slightly greened fence behind him and groans.

“Him,” he says, emphasizing the word as if it clears anything up at all. It doesn’t seem to, if the thick sound of Lance’s silence is anything to go by.

Growling lowly, his grip tightens around his half emptied cup of mystery punch.

Which, with the way the backyard is fuzzed at its edges and the way his skin is running hot, he probably shouldn’t be drinking.

That, he could dispute with himself in the morning though.

“Him,” Shiro repeats, nodding his head toward the deck. There are several people there, all faded and fuzzed together in a conglomeration of Betas that he doesn’t know, save for one.

One with that dark, wavy hair, and that cutting gaze that Shiro can’t seem to shake.

Keith.

His name is Keith.

Keith Kogane.

From his 8am calculus class, and very possibly, his dreams.

“Dude, too much,” Lance groans in response, slight disgust filling his tone as Shiro realizes he didn’t just think those words. Scrubbing a hand at his nape, he smiles in sheepish apology just as Lance turns his attention toward the deck.

“Are you sure he hates just you?” He continues, arching a brow as he tilts his chin toward the scene before them.

“What does that mean?” Shiro asks, confusion lemon bright on his tongue as he turns back to the deck in time to watch Keith nod at something the bleary stranger beside him said. Whatever it is, it irons out his scowl into something more of a drawn line that makes Shiro’s chest hollow with something just shy of jealousy.

Which is just ridiculous since he’s only ever spoken to Keith the one time, and it was while he decimated him at flip cup.

It must just be the alcohol talking, Shiro thinks to himself as he turns back to Lance.

“You know,” he says, gesturing to his face, “the bitch face. It doesn’t look like he really likes anyone.”

“It’s not a bitch face,” Shiro says, ignoring the defensiveness of his tone as he turns his attention back to his classmate. Dipping behind the rim of his red plastic cup, he sucks mystery punch between his teeth as his gaze catches Keith’s hardened exterior crack and buckle beneath the weight of a smile aimed directly at his companion.

He almost chokes as the curve of it sinks deep into the meat of his chest.

“Or not,” Lance mutters, flicking his look back and forth between Shiro and the deck with what looks almost like pity.

It’s then, that Keith chooses to turn away from his friend, sweeping his eyes across the yard and meeting his with a bright spark. Breath seizing, Shiro watches in what feels like slow motion as his smile drops, followed quickly by his gaze before he turns away completely.

Beside him, there’s a sharp inhale and a low ‘oh’ as Lance reaches up and drops a warm palm on his shoulder.

“Sorry buddy,” he says, squeezing his fingers slightly in what Shiro can only assume is meant to be reassurance, but feels much more like pity as he feels his stomach drop low.

“There’s a slim chance he maybe hates.”

They both watched as Keith dipped close to his friend, saying something before pushing into the crowd of bodies on the deck without waiting for his answer. His retreat burns almost as much as the last bit of punch that Shiro sucks down after he can no longer see his dark waves moving in the thrush.

His head spins a big with the alcohol as it roils in his stomach, combining with a noxious mix of yearning.

“But don’t worry,” Lance says brightly, words slightly smushed at their edges as he slides his hand from his shoulder just to smack Shiro on the back. It makes his teeth click against the cheap plastic of his cup and spills punch down his chin as he pulls the cup away. Wiping up the liquid with the back of his hand, he turns to face the other pledge.

Lance’s smile is dangerous as he continues to speak.

“You’ve got Lover Boy Lance here! I’ll help you get the guy!”

It’s an offer, wrapped inside a very terrible idea, which is another thing that Shiro understands. Lover Boy Lance was nothing more than a moniker that Lance had given himself, and nothing good ever came from self proclamations such as that.

But there’s something about the confidence that he exudes that makes him consider.

Looking Lance over, Shiro hears himself say “I’m listening,” before he can think it over further, which only makes Lance’s grin grow wider.

It’s truly, a terrible idea to trust him.

Yet, in that moment, it doesn’t sound all that terrible at all.

Of course, maybe that’s just the alcohol talking.

It’s his second year of college, and Takashi Shirogane has begun to understand many, many more things.

He understands the second law of thermodynamics, and how the change of entropy is equal to heat transfer divided by temperature.

He also understands that the entropy and environment of a system remain constant as long as the process can be reversed.

He even understands how the entropy and environment must, and will, increase if it’s irreversible.

What Shiro understands, is thermodynamics.

But what he doesn’t understand, is how he ever thought listening to any of Lance’s advice was a good idea, because now, he was certain he was closer to accidentally leading Keith to an early alcohol induced grave than actually getting to know him.

Of course, he hadn’t quite expected Keith to actually take him up on the offer to join him for a drink, or to actually go along with the game.

Of course, now that he thought about it, he should have known Keith wouldn’t be able to say no to kicking his ass at a game.

“Come on, Keith, we’re almost there,” Shiro says low, more to himself than to Keith as he tightens his hold around his waist.

It’s only half of a truth.

They aren’t quite almost there, but they have made it halfway down Greek row, which was much more progress than they’d had about twenty minutes ago when he’d found himself holding Keith’s hair back as he dry heaved in front of the Alpha Chi house.

Take that, Alphas, Keith had huffed, voice scratchy and raw from his efforts as he’d stared at the fraternity house with an odd mix of fascination and fire in his gaze. It’d turned his glare brilliant, and scorched, before he’d turned that very same look to him.

Something about it had made it intoxicating in a way that had gone straight to Shiro’s head, more so than the shots had.

Why do you hate us so much? He had asked, unable to look away from the incendiary stare.

Why do you hate me so much, he had meant.

I don’t hate you, Keith had replied, throwing emphasis on ‘you’ as he’d stabbed a finger to the center of Shiro’s chest before turning his attentions back to the house. The yellow of the street light standing guard over them had almost made his cheeks look flushed as he’d contemplated the simple brick of its walls.

His mouth had turned down in a half-hearted scowl before he said with entirely different inflection, I hate you.

It didn’t make sense in the slightest, yet Shiro had laughed then, loud and unrestrained, as Keith had looked back to him for just long enough for the scowl to flick upwards in a barely there facsimile of a smile.

And then, he had ducked forward to throw up on Shiro’s shoes.

He tried not to think too hard about the cooling warmth that’s seeped into his socks now, as Keith continues to ramble, sending his blurred words up toward the night sky.

“You know about stars?” He asked as he let his head lull to the side lazily to find Shiro’s shoulder. Never faltering in his steps, Keith continues his obedient shuffle while keeping his eyes turned upward.

“I’d like to think so,” Shiro chuckles, training his focus on keeping them both moving in some semblance of a straight line, and not the sharp profile of Keith’s face.

“They make up everything,” Keith continues, not paying him any mind. “I’m a star. You’re a star.”

Pausing, he pulls away to look at Shiro, filling the space between them with expectation.

His gaze cuts as he waits, silent in his inquiry as Shiro furrows his brow.

Biting deep into the meat of his lip, he pulls them both over the curb in front of the Beta house.

“We’re all stars?” Shiro guesses.

Satisfied with his answer, Keith nods before dropping his head back to his shoulder as Shiro continues to pull both their weights up the front steps of the porch.

“Keith, do you have your keys?” He asks, giving him another squeeze to make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep standing against him. It earns his nothing more than a disbelieving scoff as Keith shoves a hand into the depths of his front pocket.

Shiro can practically hear his eyes rolling, accompanied with the metallic click of keys.

“Of course I do,” he says, pulling them free and holding them straight out, never once pulling away from where he leans against him.

“If you leave your keys, you get party pickup duty. Never leave your keys,” Keith continues to mumble as Shiro grabs for them, swallowing down the buzz that rocks though him as their fingertips brush.

It stings through him in an entirely different way than the burning line that Keith presses against his side, and Shiro feels his mouth go dry before he squeezes his fist around the metal. The sharp stab of the keys forces him back down to Earth, and the Beta porch as he shifts through the sparse offering to find the key marked with a β.

The lock clicks quietly as he makes quick work of it. Inside, it’s silent, and dark, the house nothing more than an abandoned husk as it awaited its occupants to return.

“Which way to your room?” Shiro whispers, gently closing the door behind them.

Something about the peace of the house begs for his own quiet. It’s almost as if there’s a spell cast over the brick and mortar, and he finds himself scared of breaking it.

Humming lowly, Keith waves a hand vaguely toward the stairs in answer.

“Up and left,” is all he supplies before turning his face into Shiro’s collar.

His breath is hot, collecting in the fabric of his shirt in a way that sears down to his core as he continues their awkward shuffle up the stairs, dutifully following his simple instructions.

Passing a couple of doors, it isn’t until they’re in front of the second to last that Keith makes a small sound and pulls toward it, effectively stopping them both as he pushes it open clumsily.

Behind the plain door, stands Keith’s room.

It’s spartan in its furnishings, with a bed adorned by a thick black comforter, and a desk that sits in front of a single window. Closing the door behind them, Shiro catches sight of the dresser that sits behind it.

Atop it, sits Keith’s Beta Theta pledge paddle, a couple of crumpled dollars, and a sheathed knife.

They’re the only personal touches in the room, and Shiro finds himself reaching out to them, as if they might reveal something of Keith.

A sharp sound sticks itself in Shiro’s throat as Keith pulls away quickly. The motion of it drags him along, making him trip over his feet as he makes his way towards his bed.

Humming happily, Keith lands with a soft squeak of mattress springs as he starts to kick his shoes off, eyes lidded as he reached back at his comforter to push it down. Sitting there, he looks impossibly soft, swathed in the moonlight that’s pressing through his blinds.

Electricity turns Shiro’s veins to live wires as he steps back.

“Do you have any Tylenol?” He asks, turning away in hopes of quelling the heartbeat drumming in his ears. Waving his hand once more in the direction of the desk, Keith makes a noncommittal sound as he starts to pull at his jacket.

Quickly closing the distance between himself and the desk, Shiro traces his gaze over the papers that are scattered over its surface. His writing is a scratch across the white sheets, and on the topmost page, there’s a doodle of an odd creature that decorates the margins.

It’s looks like it would be a caterpillar, if caterpillars had beaks and didn’t look much like caterpillars at all.

Biting down on his laugh, Shiro shakes his head as he opens the top drawer of the desk, eyeing a small white bottle in its corner. With a quick shake, he frees two pills before dropping it back into the drawer with rattling sound before grabbing for a cup that sits on the window sill behind the desk.

It looks relatively clean, and given the circumstance, he figures Keith won’t particularly mind even if it was.

There’s a soft grunt behind him, pulling his attention back toward him long enough to catch him still struggling with his jacket. Moonlight stripes the leather, and falls in his hair, tangling in the waves and turning them to midnight water.

He’s a vision, painted in darkness and sharp lines of light, and it takes everything in Shiro to turn away to make his way to the door tucked in the corner of the room. Throwing it open, he finds himself at the threshold of a small half bathroom.

Turning on the light, he finds himself before a porcelain sink and the oval mirror that hangs above it.

Shiro’s reflection stares back at him, eyes shining bright and pink spilling across his cheeks in an embarrassing way. With a small sound of indignation, he pulls his stare away before he can think too hard about the reason behind the flush that is decidedly not the alcohol before filling the cup.

Then, quickly turning on his heel, he returned to Keith.

Still sitting where he’s left him, only with the addition of his shoes and jacket on the ground, he watches Shiro closely. Keith’s eyes are cutting and clear, like a predator, and he wonders silently if he’s somehow sobered in the matter of seconds that he was gone.

Frozen beneath his stare, Shiro tightens his grip on the cup as Keith slowly tilts his head as he carefully scrutinizes him. It turns the night air thick, and hot, and it catches in his throat.

He thinks he even might choke on it before Keith’s eyes start to shudder shut, effectively pulling the breath from his lungs with a relieved sigh.

Stepping closer, he drops the pills and cup onto his nightstand.

“Why?” Keith asks breathily, not bothering to open his eyes.

Shiro wonders if he’s even talking to him, or just some phantom he sees in his dreams.

“I told you,” Shiro answers anyway, gently pressing a palm over his heart as he grabs for the comforter with the other, holding it back for him as Keith lets himself be pushed down into his pillows.

“You’re my type.”

A sleepy sound of acknowledgement brushes through Keith’s chest before he rolls to his side as Shiro pulls the blanket over him. Pressing himself closer into the pillows, he clutches at the comforter and smiles the smallest brush of a smile.

“Thanks,” he mutters around a yawn.

It takes all of three breaths before they’ve evened into the cadence of sleep that rises and falls softly beneath the sea of his blanket. Shaking his head slowly, Shiro grabs a sheet of paper and a pen from his desk before returning to the nightstand to jot out a quick note.

Take this, and learn how to hold your liquor :)

The blue ink stands stark on the white of the page, the marks each weighted with the same emotion that sits heavy on his tongue with the rest of what he wishes to add.

Instead, he drops the pen beside the note.

Turning away from Keith’s sleeping form, he almost makes it to the door when he sees a small plastic trash can beside it.

There’s another small sound, almost like a sigh, as Shiro grabs for it before turning back to see Keith’s face twitch with a near smile. Dropping it on the ground before him, the plastic is much louder against the hardwood, and it makes him shift slightly in his sleep.

“Shiro,” Keith says lowly, pulling the comforter up further over his chin. The sound of his name on his tongue, shortened with familiarity, crackles in his nerves as he reaches a shaking hand forward to brush a lock of hair from Keith’s cheek.

The lingering buzz of alcohol in his veins is what pushes him forward as he brushes his lips over the crest of it.

“Goodnight, Keith,” he whispers, his breath ghosting across Keith’s cheek before he fully stands.

The quiet sound of a returned goodnight follows him as he turns to leave, heating his skin until he’s certain he’ll burn.

In their class, they were given an example of irreversible thermodynamics. When a hot object meets a cold object, they may both reach a maintained equilibrium temperature, but once pulled apart, they would never naturally return to their original temperatures.

Their combining leaves them changed.

As he shut the door behind him, careful to ensure it only makes the barest sound of a click as it fully closes, he can’t help but think of that example.

Swiping a hand over his tired eyes, he pushes himself down the hall and toward the staircase that would lead him directly to the front door of the Beta house. It isn’t until he’s outside that he tries to swallow a bitter laugh as he drops his head back to look up at the sky.

As it turned out, he may understand the irreversibility of the second law of thermodynamics a little too well.

It’s his third year of college, and Takashi Shirogane understands much, and yet nothing at all.

This much he learns half naked and stretched across a sticky bar table, with the hot line Keith has licked across his stomach cooling on his skin, and the sight of his retreating back before him.

He’d thought he’d finally understood the way Keith felt.

Thought he’d understood where they both stood on a precipice of shared flirtation and nothing more. Shiro was ready to die on that hill. If that was all Keith wanted to give him, he was more than happy to accept it.

There were worse ways to go.

But it was then, trapped between the heat of Keith’s chest and the strength of his grasp at his nape, that he realized maybe he hadn’t understood anything at all.

“Dude,” Lance says, drawing the word out until it’s painfully long before turning to Shiro. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t—” Shiro starts, staring out into the crowd that slowly folds back around the space that Keith had disappeared through.

I didn’t do anything, he means to say, but it sticks in his throat as he flips quickly through the mental photo album of the day. Nothing sticks out as extraordinary. From the start of the day, to just moments before, the only difference, was Keith.

Keith coming forward.

Keith, with that look in his eyes and that confident smirk.

Keith, and the sinful way his tongue had played across his skin.

Keith, Keith, Keith.

The answer comes to him, whole hearted and with all the force of a tank, and it crushes him beneath the weight of understanding.

“I didn’t do anything.” Shiro breathes out the realization, panic bright in his eyes as he looks to Lance. Gaze going wide, Lance shifts his attention between his friend and the crowd around them, almost in search.

Back and forth.

Back and—

Exhaling loudly, Lance keeps his look on Shiro as he speaks.

“I’m not going to lie, buddy. I don’t get it,” he says, anticlimactic and with a measured shrug. Alcohol spills over Lance’s fingers as he raises the hand holding his shot, cutting off Shiro before he can push words through the open gape of his mouth.

The liquid drips from Lance’s hand and onto his leg, seeping into the denim in wet drops.

“It being you,” Lance continues, bringing the shot glass to his lips and dipping his head back with it before resurfacing with a shit eating grin. “Looks like he doesn’t hate you half as much as you thought he did.”

“You also thought he hated me,” Shiro points out, gaze sticking to the crowd like wallpaper in an attempt to avoid his friend’s stare.

It’s my all seeing stare, Lance had once said before demonstrating. At the time, Shiro had laughed so hard, he’d snorted beer from his nose because it looked a lot less all seeing, and much more like he’d just smelled the gnarliest shit.

Now though, Shiro isn’t too sure Lance couldn’t see down to his very core.

Swallowing thickly, he tries to settle the quick pace of his heart as it beats a harrowed rhythm into his ribs and sends fissures through the bone as he aches.

“We’re not talking about me, we’re talking about you,” Lance snarks, shoving an accusatory finger into the fault line at the center of his chest.

“He did,” Shiro breathes, closing his fist at his side as if he’s clutching on a lifeline, “he does.”

Clicking his tongue, Lance shakes his head with disapproval as he quickly pours another shot. Its smell is noxious, and it burns Shiro’s nose as Lance waves the glass beneath it in offering.

“You sure about that?” He questions, cocking a challenging eyebrow in Shiro’s direction.

Yes, he wants to answer. It’s what he would answer if Lance had asked it of him the year prior.

Or even the week prior.

Hell, it’s what he would have answered that morning when Keith had shot him that sharpened look from across the field.

Shiro had been so fucking sure that Keith never thought anything of him as more than just a friend. Friend in the loosest sense of the word, but a friend nonetheless.

But now—

The shot glass is cool to the touch as Shiro grabs it. It contrasts sharply with the acidic burn it sends crashing down his throat as he swallows the tequila.

Heated courage twists in his veins when he resurfaces from the crystalline edge, and it goes straight to his head as he drops the now emptied shot on the table behind him.

The Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle suddenly comes to Shiro’s mind as he pushes himself off the table, leaving the sound of confusion behind him as he works his way through the crowd and in the direction that Keith disappeared.

According to Heisenberg, it was impossible to know both the speed and position of a particle. Only one could be known at any given time, as to know one, the other must be stopped.

All this time, Shiro had thought he’d known the speed at which he’d been chasing after Keith. Not quite ever catching up, but keeping him in sight.

Shiro had never considered stopping to see where Keith stood, in fear that he’d lose him.

Knowing both would be greedy, and an impossibility, and yet standing outside the bar’s bathroom, it doesn’t quite feel like an impossibility at all.

Taking a breath, Shiro rests his palm on the wooden door, admiring the chipped black paint as his mind runs over the uncertainty principle as if it’s a life line.

He can’t possibly know both.

But he wants to.

Exhaling, Shiro pushes open the door.

It’s his fourth and final year of college, and Takashi Shirogane thinks he understands all that he really needs to.

He understands nuclear fusion, and how the stars themselves explode in order to manifest everything in existence.

He understands that all the elements around him, and of him, were all born from the death of far gone stars, and he even understands how poetic that sounds, even if it’s just science.

But what Shiro still doesn’t quite understand, is what makes up Keith. Even starlight didn’t seem grand enough to compose the atoms and matter that trekked through him. Keith was something more like the universe, made up of entire solar systems instead of just mere stars.

At least, that’s what Shiro thinks now as Keith’s smile breaks wide and blissful across his face as he lowers himself onto him, a moan parting his teeth before he drops his head back.

“Keith,” Shiro breaths, pushing his palms over his naked thighs before sinking his fingers into the meat of his hips. The touch stalls him with a shudder that brushes through him, his sharp intake a shattering sound in the otherwise quiet room before Keith lifts his head once more to look down at Shiro.

“Yes?” He asks, eyes half lidded and hands hot where he drops his palms to cover the backs of his own.

Like this, Shiro isn’t even sure that the universe could make up the breadth of wonder that Keith carries in his veins.

Nails prick his skin as Keith sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, waiting for some sign or answer.

The sensation of it races to his heart.

“I love you,” Shiro manages, rubbing twin circles at his hipbones before rolling his hips up to steal a gasp from deep within Keith’s chest. His nails cut deeper into Shiro’s skin before he traces his palms down his forearms.

Following the line of his arms toward his shoulders, Keith hovers over him, a thousand lifetimes bright in his eyes as he grinds himself down onto Shiro as if to prove a point.

“I love you,” he echoes.

It makes Shiro whine as Keith continues to move slowly, rolling sinuously against him, his heated skin burning against his own like a solar flare.

Shiro feels his fingers dig further into the meat of Keith’s hips, surely bruising, as he takes his wickedness in. Above him, lit by the soft glow of the street lights through the half open blinds, Keith is nothing but lean muscle and burning ozone; and the smoke of it leaves him on the back of his voice with the small sounds he makes with each steady movement.

He’s so beautiful, Shiro thinks as he arches up into him, chasing the friction of Keith’s rolling hips. The movement presses his head further back into Keith’s pillows, surrounding him with his scent and baring his throat up to the other fraternity president.

A burst of happiness, bright and charring, hooks the edges of his lips upward as he feels the soft slide of Keith’s palm across his collarbone before coming to a rest at the base of his throat.

“I love you,” Keith says again, words hitching as Shiro rolls his hips up into him. Time seems to seize around them then, ground to a halt with the quick suction of air from the room as he finds himself pinned beneath Keith’s half lidded stare.

Something sparks there, deep in his night sky irises as he drags his teeth along the full of his bottom lip, and then gently presses his fingers against either side of his throat.

Everything crashes around them with the near instantaneous rush of Keith’s fingers around his throat, and Keith’s body working down against him, and Keith, Keith—

“Keith,” Shiro rasps, pushing up into his palm as his own run a path back and forth across Keith’s thighs. They travel further and further upward with each pass, but never quite get as high as either of them would like.

“Please.”

He isn’t sure which one of them says it. Honestly, he isn’t sure it matters as his head starts to feel light, and bright stars start to pop in his vision.

With their hips moving together in frantic, staccato motions, Shiro loses himself to the way their bodies move and how the stars tangle in Keith’s hair.

Pushing a palm up from Keith’s hip, Shiro brushes along the line of his flank. It draws a shuddering moan out of him as he continues to move, the fingers around his throat twitching slightly as Shiro’s palm passes over his steadily beating heart.

Continuing his path, he slides his hand up further still until his palm is cupping the side of Keith’s neck, and his fingers curl gently in his hair.

“You’re beautiful,” Shiro breathes before pulling Keith down into a burning kiss that traps the sounds of their shared moans between them.

Each and every one of Keith’s, he notes, tastes like whiskey and starlight.

“Shiro,” Keith gasps into his mouth, hand slipping down to grip at the pillow beneath Shiro’s head in a vain attempt to ground himself as he continues to roll down against him.

It’s too late though.

For both of them.

Shiro wonders if maybe, it always had been, but that was a contemplation to have later as pleasure burns through them both with one final roll of their hips. The proof of it paints between them, coating their skin with ribbons of heat as they ride out the shared orgasm.

The smallest of eternities circles around the room, dipping it in silence only punctuated by their breaths as Shiro holds Keith against him.

It feels right, the way they breathe against each other in the quiet darkness. Almost as if they were both made up of pieces of the same star finally finding the peace of being reunited.

But maybe, that’s just the afterglow talking.

“So what’s next?” Keith asks, low and slow against Shiro’s pulse before pushing himself up. Moving just slightly, he pulls off of him with a small sigh of loss.

Chuckling to himself, Shiro nods down toward where Keith is still perched on his marked stomach.

“I think next we clean up,” he offers with a sharp grin.

His jackass grin, as Keith had deemed it.

“Shut up,” Keith growls playfully as he punches lightly as Shiro’s chest before leaving his closed fist pressed against his heartbeat.

“You know what I mean,” he continues, voice smaller in a way. Almost shy. “Next. After graduation. After—”

He gestures toward the closed door of his room with his other hand—

“—this.”

The future, Keith means.

Shiro wishes he knew. Wishes that, amongst all the things the past four year had helped him to understand, what they were to do next had been one of the them.

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully, gently grabbing Keith’s hand and pulling it up toward his mouth. Keith’s sigh is soft as he brushes his lips over his knuckles.

“Care to find out with me?”

The streetlight turns Keith’s smile golden as he pulls his hand away and leans down close once more.

“Yeah,” he says, tucking the crescent against the skin of Shiro’s cheek. His answer is a hot puff of breath that rocks down his spine like a lightning strike.

Curling his arms around Keith’s waist, Shiro holds him close as he feels the smile grow.

“Yeah,” he says again, chasing the word with a chaste kiss.

“I think I’d like that.”

*************

#sheith #takashi shirogane #keith kogane #voltron #i wish i had a funny tag to add #i dont #this took a whole lot longer than it needed to #pour one out for the frat au #it will be missed TToTT

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andrewuttaro · 5 years

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New Look Sabres: GM 51 - CHI - Cruel Comedy

What the fuck! I hope you saw the explicit tag before you clicked on this one because this is not going to be safe for all readers. My Sabres fandom starts somewhere around 2011 so I am intimately acquainted with shitty hockey. There is a time and place for shitty hockey. When you’re tanking for example: that is the time for shitty hockey. If you’re in subtle protest of Dan Blysma: that’s the time for shitty hockey. If you’re on a mad winning streak and tearing up the league I guess you’re kind of entitled to lay an egg of shitty hockey in one game. None of those scenarios I just described are currently occurring with this team unless there is a locker room plot I missed against Phil Housley. Hell, there is an open rebellion amongst fans against Phil and at this point is that not justified? The point is this shit is completely uncalled for! Did Drake Caggiula insult everyone’s wives and girlfriends? The only answers the Sabres had at the end of the 1st period and for most of the 2nd period was fight. Not the symbolic sense of the word where their play improves as they try to fight back into the game; no the old time hockey garbage where they make a statement with their fists! Andrew Peters would be proud you fucking disappointment wagon! You know what: every stat, advanced and otherwise, would point you to the Sabres being ready to fuck this Hawks team sideways. Hawks goals allowed, Hawks goal for, second and third period goals, defensive play, shots, and scoring chances: every fucking category! I don’t even know where to start with this shit!

For real this time: Fire Phil Housley. Several games back against Tampa Bay I said this club has probably given us the outline, the criteria if you will, to Fire Housley. I waited so long to jump on this ugly self-hating bandwagon but here I am on this bad fucking bandwagon. If he gets fired that will be five Sabres coaches in six years. I’m sure that doesn’t matter to Jason Botterill but holy hell it should matter to us at some point. Fuck it: he’s insane. I don’t need to even talk about Lawrence Pilut: he got into this game even if it’s with City punching bag Marco Scandella. It’s all the shit Housley doesn’t do: like make big changes when the Sabres need consistency or making no changes when the Sabres need them. Its ten minutes into the second and the Sabres are down 3-0 on the back of three fucking snipes from the two old dudes and Caggiula’s first. What does Housley do? Not a damn thing. Starting Hutton in the first place probably wasn’t wise but fuck, dude: when you’re getting your shit pushed in by the Chicago Blackhawks, not the 2013 Chicago Blackhawks, the 2019 CHICAGO BLACKHAWKS, then you’re doing something wrong. Not only am I not sure Housley put his best roster forward for this game, I’m not sure he had any motivational or tactical moves in mind to fire up the comeback machine once the sky started falling. It’s the beginning of a seven game home stand, your club needs points in the standings and Patrick Kane is back in town and you’re allowing this shit!? This game made me stare into the fucking abyss with this team!

You want a play by play? Huh, shit. The first period sounded like the Sabres we’re playing their game against what is objectively a weak Blackhawks team. They got more shots all period and even got two opportunities on the powerplay. Then Drake Caggiula scored. I’ve already mentioned this poor kid’s name three times this blog but his first career goal is a turning point. It was so massive it put fucking laxatives in all the Sabres water bottles because they came out in the second to SHIT ALL OVER THE ICE! Here’s the thing: the Sabres somehow outshoot the Hawks this second period as well but they could not be worse at advancing the puck. All their passes were intercepted and all their turnovers turned into D-zone time. They must have been turned on from when the Stars pushed them around in Dallas because they got pushed around by the fourth worst team in the league last night! Kane, Keith and later Saad to make sure we’re sad! Remember when Brendan Saad’s name was a stupid meme in 2014? That meme rose from the dead to end the second. All the Blackhawks jerseys in the crowd only made it worse. Who are Buffalo Blackhawks fans? The answer is Patrick Kane’s family and his teenage drinking buddies. I have a feeling all those Hawks jerseys couldn’t have been one of those two groups all though Buffalonians do tell me he was always a prolific drinker. Jack Eichel did score a Rasmus Ristolainen shot deflection to provide a little ray of hope but that was promptly expunged. Oh, I don’t even want to put up with you punks wanting a trade for Kane. The whole second period was just a list of grievances about this team!

The Sabres won in Columbus and they were in it for 85% of the game in Dallas. They have been bad for weeks and months now but they were looking better out of the bye-week. That false flag just shit in all our mouths! I was celebrating an anniversary with my wife so the two of us watched a comedy during this third period. I’ll tell you if I wasn’t so emotionally involved I would say this third period is quite funny! Jason Pominville maneuvers right in front of that demon goalie Cam Ward 3:30 into the third and puts one over him. This goal demonstrated how fucking soft the Hawks defense was this game letting Pommer in there to score one-on-one with Ward. Oh boy is the comeback machine firing up again!? Next it’s Kyle Okposo who gets credit for a puck passing Ward in a net crashing play where everyone was just pounding their sticks like they were begging the God of Irony to not let this game end in a stinker. Kyle Okposo who was punished with the fourth line but what’s that Coach Housley: You’re going to put a veteran first and try and change the game by putting Okposo on the second line? Well look at that, you got the Sabres within one. You put Linus Ullmark in net? Wow maybe you don’t need the Veterans but I’m not giving you credit for that one because you started Hutton to begin with. You ready: it’s time to stare into the abyss with me. Connor Murphy wrist shot equals goal. Patrick Kane with an empty netter to surpass 900 NHL points and become one of the fucking top seven Americans in points! And then Brendan Saad with an empty netter because irony lives in a mansion down on Delaware avenue and he loves going to Buffalo Sports events! Game over: YOU STINK!

To Housley’s credit apparently he tore into them afterward. Remi Elie going on waivers today could be Jason Botterill beginning to make some moves to fix this mess. In the meantime I’ve mentioned this abyss we stared into with this game a couple times. Let’s shine a light into this abyss to see what it holds: for one the Sabres being one of the worst teams in the league in terms of points gathered and record since the win streak steers us into this abyss. It holds the misery of at one point being first in the NHL and then missing the playoffs in March. It’s another offseason starting in April where we get engrossed in the Draft and wonder what offseason moves happen and how they affect the team next season. It’s another fucking season with no playoffs. I was in High School last time they made it and I wasn’t even really into sports then! Oh my God, it’s talking about an 84 point finish as an improvement when we finished LAST a season ago! THIS SHIT IS CYCLICAL! IT’S LIKE WE’RE NOT ALLOWED ANY FUN! Is it because the Bills went to the Superbowl four straight times and lost? I’d sell that fucking team to Nazem Kadri himself if it gets the SABRES ONE FUCKING PLAYOFF BERTH! Here we are losing to the Blackhawks! We all knew 1st place in November was a fluke but this: THIS IS JUST CRUEL! Holy shit I need to relax! I have to prepare to host a Superbowl party and watch the most hated man in Football win another Superbowl this weekend. There is just no rest! I cannot believe this whole fucking mess!

Drop a like. Each like goes toward maintaining my sanity like all those thumbs up on Facebook go toward bringing clean water to sub-Saharan Africa. Comment if you’re wondering what my solution to this mess is. I was going to include some replacements for Housley and some tactical ideas but I didn’t have the patience with this team if they can’t even win games that are laid out on a silver platter for them to win. Share this blog: I was party inspired to do this based on Steve Dangle’s Leafs Fan reaction. The early years of that were enjoyable for me as a Sabres fan because the Leafs sucked ass. It was pretty masochist in retrospect but if you’re the Leafs fan in the opposite position reading my shit in a masochistic way I really want to learn your story. Hell, just share this blog if you think we can commiserate together. Enjoy your Superbowl weekend and get ready for either further depression on Tuesday or more hope that the worst may not be happening. At this point either outcome would be an uproarious comedy.

Thanks for reading.

P.S. The Florida Panthers are totally going for Artemi Panarin and Sergei Bobrovsky. Perhaps next season we’ll have the matchups we expected to have with them this season.

#buffalo sabres #hockey #nhl #blog #chicago blackhawks

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wristic · 6 years

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Yellow Light (Part 3)

Pairing: Loki X Reader, Thor X Reader, Tony and Thor being bros Word Count: 2100 Warnings: Tony Stark has no time for your flat Earth theories. (None)

-Part 1- -Part 2- -Part 3-

The Bifrost came to its final flash of light. In one last blink there stood Thor and Iron Man at it’s gates. Ripping his helmet off, Tony had both eyes blown wide open. Thor and Heimdall let him spin himself dizzy taking the golden dome in with nothing but space beyond it. The second his mouth finally opened, it didn’t stop. “How does this all work? This can’t be the whole structure to teleport across the universe. What kind of energy does it use? Who built it? You guys live for some thousand odd years right, they still alive? Can I talk to them-they still got schematics-c-can I see those schematics?”

At first Thor looked around confused, exchanging that look with Heimdall. Completely straight faced, he chimed, “It’s magic.”

Tony gave a mock laugh. “Okay, but, all those questions.”

Thor shrugged. “It’s magic. What else could it be?” They stared each other down as Thor walked by him, breaking into a cheeky smile.

As he reached the door Heimdall spoke. “You should know. While Loki has his ways of hiding from my vision… there is an awfully beautiful city reborn on Jotunheim.”

Thor and Tony shared a look of concern but Heimdall only smiled. Stepping to him Thor asked in wonder, “Overnight?”

Heimdall nodded. “Been a long time since Jotunheim bore a single light in it’s darkness.”

While the news should have been uplifting, Thor sped off. Or tried to.

Tony went to chase him down, but his coming interrogation stopped short as he came face to face with a magnificent golden city, glowing like a beacon against the night surrounding. The wind knocked out of him. Eyes finding the walkway, Tony tapped his toe onto the crystal bridge. It was ever-shifting in a rainbow of colors, rushing to the Bifrost like it was siphoning power from the city. With no rails, he tiptoed near the edge, finding an ocean below. Yet at the edge of the ocean it rolled and waved over and edge into the abyss. Cooling his panic when he realized he was missing an extra set of steps, Thor turned back to see Tony’s wonder.

Snapping back when Thor drew close enough, “Flat. Flat? Your world is flat?” Tony asked sounding more offended than in need of clarification.

Thor couldn’t resist. “Earth isn’t?”

“We have both flown around it many times!!”

Pointing and leading his finger around the perimeter of Asgard he agreed, “Yes, in a biiiig circle.”

“No! No! In a Sphere! In-in-in a-how are we even standing here!? We should be getting crushed by gravity standing so close to the edge… unless… is… is this man made? Is this a man-made city in space?”

Chuckling at his friends hysterics, Thor grabbed Tony's shoulders and lead him back to the center of the bridge. “We’ve a friend to find, and there is a library that can answer your questions better than I can. With certain restrictions of course.”

“Oh of course, wouldn’t want humans traveling the galaxy and making their own space cities.”

About halfway down the long walk Tony broke his wonder to ask. “I know your brother is crazier than a bag of cats but, you wouldn’t have the faintest idea of why he took Coldsnap would you? Building a city on Jotunheim? I thought he hated the place. Didn’t he kill the king there or something?”

Thor gave a half smile to the nickname. But remembering your name, remembering you were in estranged danger with his brother wiped it away. “No one can ever claim to know what Loki thinks. I’m sure it’s a complicated plan. Building a whole city… she wasn’t powerful enough to do that on Earth was she?”

“No. I would think the excursion would kill her before getting anywhere near a city. But it's possible the change in environment takes a lot of the resistance off her.”

Thor shook his head, thoughts of the worst already tormenting him. “It’s a wonder what Loki could convince or gamble with the Frost Giants in exchange for someone who can reshape their world.”

“Okay, hang on.” Tony held out a hand to stop the rush to the capital. Pointing back he asked, “Didn’t Prince of the Forest back there just say where she is? Why are we not going there now?”

Shifting with embarrassment, Thor rambled. “Well you see, there was this whole thing with, me trying to start a war and then, as you said, my brother betraying and killing their King. So we must get there as soon but as undetected as possible. Lest, you know, war.” Sighing a little frustration he added his own hope. “Y/n is stronger than she looks. I have no doubt she can stand her own against Loki or the Frost Giants.”

Getting a suspicious star down from Tony threw him off. “What?”

He was hesitant, sucking in a sharp breath before forcing out his concern. “So… what is between you and Y/n exactly?”

Thor was shocked into a small mumble. “What? Nothing-”

“Please. With me it was, ‘Hello Tony nice to see you again’. With her it was ‘how about I stay seven hours for a drink.”

Desperate to avoid the conversation he teased. “You jealous?”

“Hurt,” Tony guilt tripped in return. “A little hurt is what I was. I wouldn’t have minded being invited to a hangout, being in the same exact building and all.” Thor chuckled, but his stomach was still dropping. “You can’t tell me you didn’t get in some trouble for that. Stumbling in at two in the morning smelling of booze and another woman? If I did that to Pepper I would be greeted home with that really pleasant, ‘There better be a good reason or I’m going to murder you’ smile.”

The tone was making his hair stand on end, the thinly veiled accusation an insult, “I am faithful to Jane.”

“I don’t doubt it. I’m just saying what it looks like, and what it looks like, is probably what it looks like to Jane also.”

Thor stepped forward bristling with offence. “And what does it look like, exactly? Say it plain.”

Instead of backing down, a scoff escaped Tony. “Do I have to say anything?”

Thor wanted to stay angry, keep defending himself and his honor. But what was there to defend when actions always spoke louder than words? Instead his mind strayed, worried what Jane really thought when he came home last night only to leave after years of being gone. Sighing, he shot Tony a terse look before turning and walking on.

Loki couldn’t stop staring into his hand. He sat in the shadows of your icy and glittering tower, filled with few and sparse things he imported from an old hideout. Even in the darkness he could see it’s pale almost ghostly complexion. It was hard for him not to think if it were blue, he would blend right in, disappear in the ice and stone like his true lineage evolved to do. But he couldn’t will it to come, too set in old fears and denials. Frost Giants, terrorists of Asgard, barbarians born of a hell climate. No one of his adoptive world, and as it seemed of his birth world would have seen the shifting as a cherished thing. Yet in your ignorance you sought a sort of kinship with it.

Glancing to you, sleeping in a bed ironically big enough to fit a giant, he scoffed. What would your reaction be when coming face to face with a real Frost Giant? Would you think the colors so beautiful anymore?

You began to stir, pushing the blankets down like you were too hot. Lifting your hand you began rubbing your eyes. Loki took that as a queue to come to you, sit beside you. Brushing a gentle hand down your neck, Loki helped you wake. A soft grin came to him watching you tense and relax into the touch. “How are you feeling?”

“Dizzy.” Your eyes lazily fluttered open. He liked the way you looked at him when he could do things no one else ever had, the way you worshiped him for it. It was enough to make him want to lavish you in a stream of unending gifts, take you to far off places, give you everything your heart desired if only you looked at him with that same reverence every second of everyday.

Reaching out, you were hesitant at first before running your fingers through his raven hair. Marvel glittering in your eyes, delicately you let every strand sift through your fingers. The action was so intimate it was hard not to play on, to cave under your needs. Leaning toward you, he waited a moment as your face dropped in apprehension. But as he continued to your lips, taking a slow kiss, you didn’t stop him. Your fingers pet through his hair one last time before timidly holding him to you.

It was like you’d forgotten how close you could get, stepping back to a reserve you were dangerous to him. With a smile he scooted his body closer to yours, running his hand up your side to cup your cheek. Yet that didn’t seem to ease you, feeling stiff and finding it hard to look at him. With a bitter smile, he watched his dark thumb caress your cheek. “Are you just now remembering I’m the bad guy?”

Taking a strangled sigh you admitted, glancing around at the dome tower you created. “I am feeling a touch more sober...”

Refusing to remove himself, to let up his contact or comfort you with a more familiar appearance, Loki tilted his head and asked, red eyes seeming to glow against the blue light. “And how does sober you feel about all this?”

Sliding out from under him, you sat up and looked around. Your features hardened with conviction. “I don’t regret coming here and making this.”

Spinning a finger in the silken sheet bunched on your thigh, he asked “You regret being with me?” Watching you, he couldn’t tell if it was anger or pain that filled you. In need of a real answer, he pushed even if it would hurt. “Regret that it was me to take you here? To touch you so… carnally?”

Your look to him was chiding, like he was only teasing you. Loki shrugged. “Do you regret me touching you?”

The look fell, unable to look at him. “No.”

“No?”

With a slow touch, you took his hand into yours, letting the connection rest in your lap. Your thumb trained alone his as you shook your head. In one word you echoed all your pent up loneliness inside, “No.”

Loki savored this quiet moment from you. So exposed, so willing and malleable to him. Such a creature of limitless power, turned weak under his slightest touch. Sitting up he pulled your face to him. You ran a hand down his chest and playing with the armor inlaid with leather. He whispered your name, getting your attention enough to look him in the eyes. There was shame in you, frustration for your own hunger that had you caving to his company without a fight. But he smiled to the song of your desperation.

That song suddenly turned into a very real long guttural roar of a beast that near shattered the walls. While you tensed like a brick, Loki pondered aloud, “Well that seems a bit excessive.”

“What seems a bit excessive!? What was that!?” You shrieked before it came again.

“The locals. I figured they’d come around sooner or later, I just didn’t think with a pet.”

You jumped up out of the bed, rushing to the window and pushing the large glass doors open. The wind whipped in, taking you a moment to adjust your eyes and gasp. Loki came up behind you to see a familiar large lumbering beast with horns, bouncing and scuffling the edge of your city in anticipation. Beside it was a dozen or so Frost Giants, all still and bathed in the darkness, only the glow of the city to reveal their shape. Putting his hands on your shoulders, he asked with a smirk, “Ready to make some friends?”

#loki imagine #loki x reader #loki avengers #thor imagine #thor x reader #thor avengers #tony stark imagine #avengers imagine #my stuff #Yellow Light #It's about time Tony saw something in space that wasn't death and destruction

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cadpadawan · 4 years

Text

A Black Winter Day 4 Years Ago...pt.1

Ok, now that I have the most pressing issues off my chest, maybe it's time to shed some light on the surreal chain of events, that changed my life quite drastically back in 2016. Those weird times pretty much account for why I needed to get re-educated in the ripe old age of +45.

Oh yes, I'm old as shit – there's no two ways about it.

Maybe this jovial stroll down the memory lane will also hint, why I ended up picking up the blogging pen, after years and years of absence from the blogosphere. I'm not really sure if anyone reads blogs anymore. I'd guess not. Everybody's just too busy posting duckface selfies in Instagram, or vlogging some utter bullshit about their day in YouTube. I think maybe a handful of sad boomers, like me, still occassionally follow the rare eloquently written blog, or even administer a blog of their own. I must confess: I might be a bit pre-occupied with the idea, that the human condition may be better contemplated in written form. Although, the extremes of that condition can be expressed quite evocatively via YouTube, too. Undoubtedly. Digital platforms offer modern solutions to recording, in full detail, how fucked up we really are.

Well, anyways...let's pretend for a moment, that blogging was cool, like it was 2005 again!

Was it really cool even then, I wonder?

In hindsight, it seems that the vast majority of blogs were pushing some corporate agenda, disguised as trendy lifestyle blogs, whose main initiative was to suggest, that in order to reach the ultimate boss-level of cool, you needed to eat certain full-vegan superfoods and support certain street-smart clothes brands, while exclusively listening to a bunch of generic indie disco-rock bands, that some washed-out, has-been, good-for-nothing celebrity had cherry-picked on behalf of some unheard-of indie label CEO.

Well, a monkey dressed in casual designer clothes is still a monkey.

The year 2005 was actually one of the turning points in my life. It was almost as if some cosmic nudge pushed my life into a downward spiral in 2005. It was one of the most emotionally ambiguous times in my life. I became a dad – which scared me shitless, and at the same time, made me the happiest person in the whole wide world, for a moment. Only six months later, I experienced a severe burnout due to sleep deprivation and excessive overtime at work – and at that time, I also experienced my first epileptic seizure. Though, at the time, I didn't have a clue what it was about. First, I thought it had something to do with the burnout. It probably did. I think the burnout triggered the first seizure. It happens. I later found out, that you can have an epileptic seizure due to a number of reasons, even if you are not diagnosed with epilepsy. The kind of seizures I started having on an irregular basis, for years to come, were not convulsive – so it was pretty easy to mistake them for something else completely: stress reaction and whatnot. You see, I worked as an express courier, which qualifies as a high-stress job – hands down. I worked long hours, played in at least two active rock outfits at the same time for years on the side, tried to spend quality time with my new family...

In retrospect, I wonder now: when the hell did I have the time to get any sleep during the years 2005-2016?!?

No wonder, my memory is full of holes, concerning that time. It's all just one big hazy blur. I kind of lost the most part of those 11 years. Yeah, I unlocked all kinds of life achievements – mortgage, a son and a daughter, various music-related things – but I guess I was so busy burning my candle at both ends, that I never stopped for a second to appreciate all the little things in my life – and now I can't remember shit.

Of course, it also had something to do with my epilepsy. Any type of epileptic seizure may potentially affect the memory, either during or after the seizure. If you experience frequent seizures, memory problems are more likely to occur. Eventually, when I finally consulted a doctor and started keeping a seizure journal in the early 2016, I used to have 10-15 seizures a week, sometimes 3-4 times a day. My seizures were of the focal type that affected only part of my brain – the temporal lobe, to be exact. Abnormalities in that region are the most common reason for memory problems in people with epilepsy. One common trigger for a seizure is lack of sleep.

Focal epilepsy is a neurological condition, in which the predominant symptom is recurring seizures that affect one hemisphere of the brain. Temporal lobe epilepsy (TLE) means that the seizure starts in one of the other of the temporal lobes. My symptoms included: feelings of strong deja vu, and a rising sensation in my stomach – the so-called epigastric aura that resulted in an impromptu vomiting first few times. Most seizures were brief, lasting only few seconds – until in 2015, almost 10 years after the first episodes, I had a seizure that lasted for minutes – my first jamais vu-experience.

In psychology, jamais vu refers to the phenomenon of experiencing a situation that you recognize in some fashion, but nevertheless seems very unfamiliar – the opposite of deja vu, so to speak. It involves a sense of eeriness and the impression of seeing something for the first time, despite rationally knowing it cannot be true. In my case, it meant getting lost on my way home from the local supermarket, as if having been sucked into a sudden dementia simulation. I was driving home from the grocery store, the usual route that I had been driving for the previous eight years so far. At some point, I felt the usual signs of the epigastric aura – that slightly nauseating sensation rising in my stomach. It predicted a seizure. I was pretty accustomed to having those every now and then. Nothing to it. It usually didn't affect my ability to drive a car in the slightest. Heck, I had been driving a van for a living for years with this little nuisance. It didn't worry me one bit. It usually lasted for a few seconds, and then it was gone. An epileptic seizure is basically a disruption of the electrical communication between neurons in the brain – an uncontrolled burst of electricity. That pretty much sums up how it usually felt: a burst of something inside my head, fluctuating like a liquid for a few seconds. It felt pretty fucking weird. So, there I was, coming home from the grocery store, blasting metal in my car stereos. Then, the stomach thingy, something sparkling in my head for a moment...I guess I didn't really pay much attention to the seizure. Maybe there was some kick-ass song playing on the radio. I probably didn't realize, that the seizure had already lasted way longer then ever before. I came to a T-junction. Suddenly, I didn't have the slightest clue where the fuck I was! I was less than one kilometer from home. I turned right. Then my wife burst out wondering, what the actual fuck I was fooling around for. I should've turned left. I grinned back, as if this manouver was some spur-of-the-moment prank. I made a U-turn, and soon I was back at the same T-junction. This time I was supposed to drive straight. Guess what?

I didn't. I turned left this time.

My wife suggested, that i should maybe go and see a doctor...

Nah, I decided to wait six more months. Why not wait until I fucked up my life to a point of no return, before going to see a doctor? It became increasingly obvious, that I was in for a major life changing event. Was I subconsciously sabotaging my life, in order not to feel tempted to go back to the old ways, when the shit finally hit the fan? In April 2016, I was diagnosed with a benign tumour in the brain, which was the reason for my epileptic seizures. In the meantime, between my epic jamais vu-experience and the MRI scan that revealed that alien implant attached to the hippocampus in the right temporal lobe of my brain, I managed to fuck everything up in the most beautiful and thorough way you could imagine: my job, my marriage, everything...as if I was laying down the foundation for the oncoming midlife crisis the best I could. Well, being some sort of an artistic personality type, I can handle chaos much better than the average person. Although, I never deliberately looked for chaos, and never actually wanted to stare into the abyss, it seems that the chaos looked for me, to stare me into the eye.

I can tell you a story...

It all started on a black winter day, January or February 2016.

(To be continued...)

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buckybarnesappreciationsociety · 7 years

Text

“Broken Souls Made Whole” Part 1

Summary: This is for @amarvelouswritings 2.1K Challenge. Thank you for allowing me to participate. Hope you’re pleased!

Prompt #5: “You’re one of the most important things in my life”

Pairings: Bucky x Original Character of Color

Word Count: 2,018

Warnings: Brief mention of suicide, racial indifference, and a little sexual innuendo

A/N: Sorry I’m late!

The mind sometimes plays cruel tricks on you. James Buchanan Barnes knew this better than anyone.

Sure, he had lucid days when past demons ceased to exist and he actually formed a thought not laced with darkness.

Other days weren’t so pretty. Today, Bucky was off kilter.

After a night of fitful sleep, Bucky left the tower with his black baseball cap pulled down low, hands tucked in his stonewashed jean pockets.

He stumbled upon a pond with ducks and ducklings. The ripples in the water reminded him of days gone by. Bucky made a mental note to bring bread to feed his quacking friends.

Sitting over to his left, a woman with empty cognac colored eyes, bronze complexion with braids woven into an intricate pattern, stared into the abyss of nothingness.

Her mind riddled with so many unsavory thoughts. She’d been dealt a shitty hand and wanted to throw in the towel.

Lately, the wheelchair had become her jailor. All she wanted was freedom to walk or run like the old days, before a drunk driver ran a red light, stripping away her independence.

Bucky didn’t know her story because it wasn’t his place to be rude and ask. All he knew she appeared to be broken. That’s one thing they had in common.

A week passed. The beleaguered super soldier stayed away from the park. Not only did the ducks miss their feeding, Aniyah missed him as well.

She knew who he was and about his past. It didn’t matter; they were two bookends on a rickety shelf, holding onto whatever normalcy they could.

Bucky resurfaced . While feeding the ducks, Aniyah took a chance and wheeled over to him.

“James Barnes right?. How are you?”

Clearly taken aback, Bucky responded. “H-hiya. How do ya’know who I am?”

Chuckling, Aniyah mused, “That’s easy. Everyone knows the infamous James Barnes”

“SInce you know who I am, what’s your name dollface?”

“Please forgive my manners. I’m Aniyah. Pleased to meet you.”

Extending his flesh hand, Aniyah shook it and smiled.

“The ducks are happy you’re back. Did you go on vacation?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, “Naw, uh been locked away in m’room. Ain’t felt right,” Bucky tapped his head.

Aniyah nodded, understanding what Bucky felt because she was there now.

They sat in silence for awhile until Aniyah decided to break the monotony.

“I know you won’t ask so let me unburden you. I was hit by a drunk driver over a year ago. Guess walking in the crosswalk doesn’t matter anymore. There’s been days when I wanted to end it all.”

Bucky didn’t say a word. He knew Aniyah needed to vent and he was more than glad to listen.

“Life sucks man. I used to dance with a modern dance troupe in Manhattan. Now, here I am. Stuck in this damn rolling contraption.” Tears trickled down her face.

Bucky pulled her wheelchair close to the bench he was sitting on and hugged Aniyah as she shed pinned up frustration in the form of tears.

“Hey hey doll. It’s alright. I got’cha. Shh.” Bucky understood better than anyone.

“Guess I’ve been holding that for awhile. Thanks for allowing me to mess up your shirt.”

Bucky shook his head, “S’okay. I didn’t mind. Listen, would’ya like to have dinner sometimes?”

“I’d like that Bucky. Hand me your phone.” Aniyah typed in her address and phone number.

At first, they’d meet at the park twice a week. Soon, they graduated her favorite coffee shop. Eventually, dinner evolved into a full blown relationship.

8 months passed, Aniyah and Bucky couldn’t stand to be apart from each other. Her sister, Trinity, had trepidations about her baby sister’s new beau, but she kept any snarky comments to herself.

One night while out to dinner Bucky suggested Aniyah come to the compound and meet the team.

“Do you think that would be wise, Bucky? I mean, look at me.” He disliked the self-loathing that would befall Aniyah sometimes.

Placing his hand on her cheek, Bucky smiled, “They would love to meet you. I talk about ya so much, Nat doesn’t believe you’re real.”

Laughing, Aniyah shook her head. “Well, we can’t have everyone thinking you have an imaginary friend, can we?”

“Great. Tomorrow is movie night at the compound. I’ll come pick’ya up at 6 p.m. You can hang out and meet everyone. One more thing. Ignore Tony and Sam; they’re real pains in the ass.”

“Alright Bucky. It’s a date. Goodnight.” Aniyah kissed Bucky lovingly on the lips.

“You’re gonna be the death of me woman. Goodnight”

MEETING THE “FAMILY”

Aniyah wore a button down white shirt, black tattered skinny jeans and simple black flats.

Bucky loved Aniyah’s braids. He found the criss cross pattern creative and beautiful the way they fell onto her delicate shoulders.

Looking at her reflection in the elevator glass, Aniyah adjusted her shirt and checked her modest make-up.

Noticing her nervous demeanor, Bucky pointed out, “You’re gorgeous babe. No need to fix anything.”

“You’re biased Sergeant.” Bucky gazed deep into Aniyah’s eyes and kissed her.

Unaware of their surroundings, Bucky and Aniyah were pulled out of their searing kiss by Steve clearing his throat.

“Uh, ‘cuse me lovebirds,” rubbing the back of his neck.

Obviously startled, Aniyah blushed. “H-hi. You must be Steve.” She extended her dainty hand.

Bucky wiped lipstick from his swollen lips. “This is Aniyah, Stevie.”

“Pleased to meet ya. Everyone’s waiting in the common room.”

Aniyah rolled her wheelchair into the room, as Nat and Wanda greeted her.

“Wow, you’re not Barnes’ imaginary friend,” Natasha quipped.

“Oh goodie. I’m so happy to finally meet you,” Wanda was absolutely giddy.

“Hello Nat and Wanda. Nice to finally meet you guys also.” Aniyah was pulled into a hug.

Sam just couldn’t resist. “Frosty said you were beautiful but to finally see you, he lied. You’re radiant.”

Bucky growled and slapped Sam’s hand away from Aniyah’s. “Back off Birdbrain. She’s spoken for.”

Tony made his way over. “So, you must be Manchurian Candidate’s love interest. I’m so sorry.”

Aniyah threw an insult of her own. “Why are you sorry Tony? I should give Ms. Potts my condolences. Dating you must be pure hell.”

Nat, Wanda, and Bucky couldn’t hold their snickering. “Barnes, she’s a keeper.” Nat mused, sipping a vodka and tonic.

The movie choice, “21 Jump Street”, didn’t appeal to Bucky. So, he suggested showing Aniyah around the compound.

Bucky thought it would be a good idea to show his best girl the view from the rooftop deck.

“It’s so peaceful up here, Bucky. I could sit and star gaze all night.” Aniyah’s voice was laced with a touch of sadness.

“Shuga, what’s wrong? The smile has left your face and those bright eyes gone dim.” Bucky scooted next to her.

“Your friends treat me like a normal person baby. It’s so refreshing.Trinity means well, but she acts like I’m an invalid.” Aniyah’s voice trembled.

Taking a leap of faith, Bucky proposed Aniyah move in with him at the compound.

“Dollface, you have no idea how hard it is saying goodnight and leaving ya. I know ya love Trinity, but it’s time to enjoy life again. I’d love to wake up to your smiling face and go to sleep with ya wrapped in my arms. You’re one of the most important things in my life. Would ya do me the honor of moving in with me?

“James Buchanan Barnes you’re important to me as well. Thank you for taking a chance on us. And to answer your question, yes I’d love to move in with you!”

Bucky sealed the deal with a kiss. He loved Aniyah and wanted her with him all the time.

Aniyah broke the news to her sister. Trinity balked at the idea of her moving into the compound. “Are you crazy Niyah? You’ve known this man how long? 8 months! Use your head girl!”

Determined to take control of her life, Aniyah stated her case. “Look let’s lay our cards on the table. It’s not about how long I’ve known Bucky, is it? This goes deeper than that.”

Trinity whipped around, peering deep into Aniyah’s eyes. “Okay, I’ll spell it out for you. He’s an assassin and he ain’t a brother!”

Aniyah became enraged. “You’re prejudice! James is a former assassin and his skin color doesn’t matter! Sorry to burst your color blind bubble, but I’m moving in with him whether you like it or not.”

Snatching her phone from the bed, Aniyah called Nat. “Hey Nat. Are you busy?” Aniyah’s voice quivered.

“Aniyah? No I’m not. What’s up?”

“Would you mind helping me move my things? I don’t want to wait until James comes back.”

Wanda’s brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

“I dunno but we’re going to get Aniyah. She’s really upset.” Nat grabbed her car keys, pulling Wanda along to the garage.

Meanwhile, Trinity, against her better judgement, helped Aniyah pack. “I’m just looking out for you Niyah. It’s too soon.”

“Trinity, like it or not, I’m going. I hope you find it in your heart to accept my choices. If not, oh well. I’ll always love and miss you.”

The doorbell rang. Aniyah greeted Nat and Wanda. The female Avengers introduced themselves to Trinity. She feigned interest while helping her baby sister load luggage into the tinted window SUV.

Wanda put the last bag in the back. Aniyah reached out for her sister; Trinity simply waved good-bye walking back into the house.

It was a bittersweet moment as Nat and Wanda held Aniyah. Trinity’s blessing meant the world to her.

Nat carefully lifted her into the seat, folded the wheelchair and closed the door. As they drove away, Trinity peeped through the curtains, watching her baby sister leave.

MOVING IN

Tony was the official welcome person. “So, you decided to stay with Tin Man in our friendly asylum?”

“Yes Tony, I did. Figured one more crazy person wouldn’t hurt!” Aniyah laughed.

“Glad you’re here. Now Barnes can shut up about how much he missed you.” Tony sipped on scotch. “Wanda and Nat will be your tour guides. See ya!”

Aniyah waved, as Tony went back to his lab.

Helping her get settled, Wanda couldn’t help but feel Aniyah’s aura. “Are you alright?”

“Trinity and I had a fight. She still thinks of Bucky as his past. He’s a different man from the Winter Soldier. Hell, he can deactivate his metal arm and we’re talking about him getting a service dog.

Breathing deep, Aniyah poured her heart out.

“When I met James, life as I knew it was bleak. Truthfully, I’d considered ending it. Then one day, I built up the nerve to speak to him. The more we talked, we knew our meeting was kismet. Here you have two broken humans, coming together to make a whole person. I can honestly say I love him.” A tear escaped her eye.

Bucky stood in the doorway, listening to this fragile dove pour her heart out.

“Guess you couldn’t wait huh? Glad you’re here doll.”

Making grabby hands, Aniyah couldn’t wait to wrap her arms around the man she loved.

“Buck, I’m happy you’re home. I’ve missed you.”

“I know something happened ‘cause you’re here early. We won’t talk ‘bout it now. Tomorrow. Right now, m’gonna light some candles, drop one of them fancy bath bombs in the water and spend time with the woman I love. First, I gotta rinse all this shit off m’body from the mission.”

“Now that sounds like a good idea. Are you trying to get frisky with me?”

“Hell yeah woman. I’ll be back in a flash.”

Reaching for his flesh hand, Aniyah kissed his knuckles. “I love you too James Buchanan Barnes.”

They’d found each other under the weirdest of circumstances. Two halves coming together to make one whole person; one heart; one love.

TAGS: @omalleysgirl22 @erisjade @barnesvogue @love2rhyme@pegasusdragontiger @irene-rogue-adler @vampirephile @supersoldierslover@rebelslicious @caplanbuckybarnes@this-kitty-has-claws @goodnightwife@buckybabybaby @writing-is-my-elixir-of-life @magellan-88@theimpossibleg1rl @sebstanfanma@magellan-88 @blackcaptainrogers @sgtjamesbuchananbarnes107th @captnbarnesrogers @sgtbxckybxrnes

#bee’s 2.1k challenge #bee's 2.1k challenge #bees 2. 1k challenge #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x original character of color #aniyah #bucky x his queen #bees 2.1k challenge

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pepperpaprika · 7 years

Text

S3 Squeeing

Under the cut, mostly nonsense. :’D I’ll do a proper review once I digest it maybe!

First watch, no subtitles, GO.

(I’m sorry about name spellings)

EPISODE 1:

huh they still have the same opening.

KEITH IS SO SAD

ah yes the zarkon shiro moaning

NO KEITH DONT DO THE WOBBLY EYES

ahhh i forgot the robovoiceover thing the bom have need to add.

skirts seem to be a status symbol with galra.

NINJA RUN OMFG.

oooh nice torpedo, hunk!

omfg an actual parade.

WAIT WAS IT KOLIVAN SAYING "IM SORRY KEITH" earlier??

pooegian? aw cute name. im seriously getting avatar flashbacks tho.

planet keffron, feathery ears

freedom fighters.

intergalactic fashion pirate coran- YES

lance is all about the glory lmao

OMG ALLURA NO- LOOK AT THAT SHOCK.

you can tell they ALL know they stepped on keiths landmine.

Commander Thrak --OH NO THEY ARE HIDING ZARKONS ILLNESS.

this guy is hunched.... OMG SHES A CHAMELEON.

LOL KOLIVAN IS AT THE HEAD

galra empire is most massive... it seems like it could rule another ten thousand years.

LOL KEITH. SO ANGERY.

poor boy.

oh hey pizza roll and pig in a blanket.

LOTOR a;lskdas;klj -Exiled prince -halfbreed at best, no honor -generals can fight for the throne -fighting beside your forces is considered lowly.

omfg. OMFG. LOTOR IS PRETTIER THAN I THOUGHT.

OMFG WHERE DID THEY COME FROM

YEAH GROWL BB

alskdjaskdjaskldj;asjkd;lasjkd;laslk;jdlasjk;dklajsd HES SHORT

LOL NICE PUNCH

Your own agression is your undoing.

oh he was expecting to be killed wasnt he.

arena is to the death confirmed.... so how did that robeast survive.

as;ldkjasdkjasd HEY THEY HAVE GEMS ON THEIR GLOVES/HANDS.

DONT TURN YOUR BACK ON A BLOODTHIRSTY GENERAL LOTOR PLS.

I mean sure theres an audience but still.

oh wow that guy has wolverine hands.

pet the kitty

let him rot with the ice worms~

LOL theyre all looking at lance... i guess they agreed beforehand.

EPISODE 2

nice seaside mediterranean city

is that an elephant?

whoah chameleon girls antenna is super long.

HOW DID THEY LAND GENTLY. oh i see... hmn ita racial.

whoah. she strong.

oh my god. HES THERE.

well i like how chameleon girl is like ty lee

LOL how allura chose the colors.

LOL SAME KEEF.

BLACK LION LOOKS SO SAD ON ITS SIDE. /CRAI

aw ladies first.

LOL PIDGE. lajkasdjasl;kdj

NOT IT. YES HUNK.YOU DIDNT EVEN TRY.

I LOVE IT HUNK.

PIDGGGGE

30 mins of lance sitting in the lion.

but im not you. i cant beat them like you.

PLEASE NO. OMG

LOL LANCES FACE. SO DISAPPOINTED.

I DONT ACCEPT THIS.

OMG SHES PLAYING WITH THE CAT

"no black lion"

oh. shes part snake not lizard? DID SHE HYPNOTIZE HIM

THIS ONES FOR YOU SHIRO.

oh. they have warp technology.

Lancey Lance. JUST A PHASE. lmaooooo. HIS BEST LINE.

controls dont respond like the red lions.... hmm..

KEITH PROLLY TRAINED IT TO BITE MY HEAD OFF.

Allurance shoulder touch. well I didnt see that coming.

YEAH ALLURA.

There's something different about that lion... its pilot isnt in control.

lol keith thanks coran but not lance. I mean its not his fault this time, technically.

BE CAREFUL WITH RED.

weve seen enough, retreat.

LOL zarkon has a son allura: deeply disturbing.

LANCE STOP TALKING LIKE YOURE GONNA LEAVE HER FOR GOOD.

FALLEN WARRIORS.. AND SHIRO.

"I'm glad it was you."

OMG KEITH.

Episode 3

lol keith no. NOT EVERYONE CAN FLY A THING IN TWO MINS OK.

LOTOR WANTS TO KNOW MORE INFO

fkljas;kdfsaklj YES GO ONE ON ONE

LANCE WHY

omg. OF COURSE HES GOOD AT FLYING. OF COURSE.

DOES THIS THING HAVE BREAKS.

lol yes this was gonna suck from the start.

LOL GARRISON TRIO

GREAT LEADERSHIP KEITH FFFFFT

man this is a trainwreck.

oh man theyre not gonna be able to form are they.

LOL

LOTOR CAN SEE YOU

How disappointing... indeed, Lotor.

oh no keith playing straight into his hands.

nice planet tho.

omg. NOOOO KEEF NO.

huh Hunk has been really careful of allura huh :o its kinda interesting that hes the one who woories about her most... ope theres lance

'its not about the team its about the mission" - very telling.

lol he looks like orochimaru in that helmet, lotor.

generals call him lotor. interesting

LOL THAT SPLAT

alkdjasdkjsa NOOOO

oh no hes gonna capture allura first.

WHY ARENT THE LIONS GUIDING THEM?

ohhh no she dropped into the abyss.

aw shes super scared.

lol yes keith you followed him into his trap.

"oh em gee"

WHAT WOULD LANCE DO

laskdjasldjkaskjdjskjsadfjkljksdla

ALLURA WHY OMG. PARTICLE BARRIER.

abbb ok she must want to be guided. makes sense.

d;alsjdasl IM GLAD WERE ALL MAKING FUN OF LANCE looool.

ahhh there we go 3 eps in before voltron can be formed.

HUNK IM A LEG pretty cool right. IMMORTAL WORDS.

EPISODE 4

lol allura you were never gonna be the last alteans alive unless youre a lot worse at shapeshifting than you thought.

I love this science talk.

DONT GO INTO THE LIGHT.

oh its a wormhole.

ahah a time capsule ship of alteans. Nice.

Orrr not.

whoah lots of arms on that one. IS IT SLAV.

wheres slav anyway.

bom?

ALdaslk;djAS:LKdjasdljOMFG

OMFG.

YES IT IS SLAV AND SHIRO. SVEN.

aldfjlkqwlk;jehs ITS THE ACCENT.

"I MAY BE CRAZY"Nice slav.

ldjasd;lkj LOL LANCE HAS RED GUN.

"OH THATS HIM"

;ldkaslkak I LOVE ITTTTT

ALTEANS ARE EVIL. YES.

EMPRESS

WHAT IS THAT BEHIND THEM A YUPPER.

NO DONT HELP THE EVIL ALTEANS PIDGE.

its nice that all the new chars are girls.

alkjd;askdjasjkl;d I CANT EVERY TIME SVEN TALKS.

Moxus hmn. OMG BRAINWASHING. ALTEAN BRAINWASHING.

preservation of life. is the highest prioirty.. interesting...

YOOHOO UP HERE.

I love how sven has a mullet.

GUNS OF GAMORA.

Voltron can travel between realities. I love this plot device.

ohhhh no. oh nooo. shes doing it WHY ARE YOU SO BLIND.

awww the mice are so SAD.

i cant stop laughing whenever i see Sven.

ASLkdjaskld;jasjdkl THIS IS THE REALITY WHERE EVERYTTHING WORKS OUT FINE.

DOGPILE

I LOVE ITTTT.

;lkvsdf;aldkas;lkd LOL SVEN SVEEEN. lol shance with sven?

DOES HE DO THIS IN EVERY REALITY.

I LOVE THIS REALITY TOO SLAV.

NOOO DONT TAKE IT TO LOTOR. though thats probably needed to make a comparable weapon to voltron.

DESTROY IT

welp.

EPISODE 5

alk;sdjaskj SHIRO

SHOW ME THAT LONG HAIR BABY.

oh wait this is a dream isn't it.

whoah. such hair.

HOBO SHIRO

wtfffff is happeniiing. STAGE 3??

wow the animation quality went up tho.

YOU BE THAT AMERICAN NINJA SHIRO

hmm thigh wound.

anime snow...

aw haggar, its ok.

Yep thigh wound. Niiiiice legs. oh nooo.shiro.

interesting. an oasis of warmth. ohhhh NO NOO NO. GET AWAY.

TENTACLES.

WHAT IS THIS OTHER ALIEN.

lol shiros face. he's so done.

but somethings not adding up.

why was he allowed free?

eiii the return of the term "years"

IDK WHAT IT IS BUT HOBO SHIRO LOOKS SO MUCH BETTER RENDERED SOMEHOW? LIKE AN OVA?

lol yes why dint they GO WITH HIM.

but how did his hair get so long??

ALTERNATE REALITY?

VOLTRON.YES SHIRO. AH HES TOO FAST FOR ME.

oh. THAT ARM.

Lotor is on bad terms Haggar. I AM THE LEADER BUT I AM NOT MY FATHER.

holy shit that arm looks like shiros arm.

OH NO SHIROOO.

alksdjasjd OMG MEMORIES.

BLACK SAVE HIM. SAVE HIIIM.

NOODLES.

EPISODE 6

LANCE LIKE WHIPS. OF COURSE HE DOES.

WHERES SHIRO.

oh new white undershirt.

KEITH JUST TALKING TO SHIRO IN THE DARK IN HIS ROOM.

"they need you you know." Keith talking about himself.

AS MANY TIMES AS IT TAKES TO SAVE YOU SHIRO.

oh. SHORT SLEEVES.

oomg. omg.

I LOVE THE GEEK TALK.

...OH NO

HEY MAN.

SOLID MATH LOL.

Leave the math to pidge. LOL. solid advice.

HUNK BUTT WIGGLE.

LOL keith defers ofc.

THE HAIR IS ALL WROOONG. ITS GOING THE WRONG WAY.

oh no.

THIS MAY BE THE WORST POST IN THE GALRA EMPIRE BUT ITS MY POST. VICTORY OR DEATH. I LOVE YOU FOR THAT THROK.

oh its lotors guards.

???

OMG. OH NO. TELEDUV.

ohh no. SHEITH FIGHT.

lol they believe shiro ofc.

oh so it IS her.

OH YEAH AMBIDEXTROUS KEITH.

aw yes allura grab lances scruff.

ohhh no. this is a rift.

lotors brains vs shiros brains. hmn.

NICE KEITH.

ooooh no.

I wonder if Throk is still alive and can snitch.

Shoulder touch.

SOFT LOOK. The black lion has chosen you.

landing codes? what? whoa lotor. SO THAT PLAN WAS TO SET UP THROK? HES THAT PETTY??

episode 7

IS THAT HAGGAR?THE BLUE PALADIN??

ORIGINAL VOLTRON PALADINS

OH DEAR.

LOL ZARKON HAS A MACE. OR A HAMMER.

MORE KNOWLEDGEABLE AS AN ALCHEMIST THAN A SOLDIER

BEAR ALIEN

ERODES DISCIPLINE.

QUEENS AND KINGS NICE.

alluras already old there huh

and lions are super recent.

omg. ZARKON IS AFRAID OF CATS.

Minerva? Onerva?

OH ALLURA IS A BABY. THATWAS HER MOM SHES A PERFECT COPY.

HES MARRIED TO AN ALTEAN.

oh ships vs clean energy.

OH NO ITS SENTIENT.

why does she sound so dead???

WHY ARE THE LIONS ALL BANGED UP THEYRE SUPPOSED TO BE NEW??

also zarkon used to be so small

GALRA HAVE PUPILS

so blue lions are flirts. hmn.

IS THAT A LIL KITTY NOSE ON THEIR HELMETS?

THE SQUAD. THEYRE SO CUTE.

LOL LEG.

waiiit. WHY DOES KEITH STILL PUSH HIS BAYARD IN FOR FORM SWORD??

isnt it with lance now??

live foreverrr.

Enerva is Haggar??

ohhh thats why his eyes are pink. SO THISIS THE BIRTH OF DRUID MAGIC, THE PARTICLES.

....THATS IT??

#my musings #s3 spoilers

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biased-maybe-lovely · 7 years

Text

Bittersweet Obliviousness

smutty af

First time writing a fanfic so it’s not the best or on point, but who cares?

Enjoy this concept of forbidden love ;)

Chapter 1

The smell of tantalizing eggs and bacon whiffed through the small clinic, sending a shiver of comfort down Orihime’s back as she shuffled to organize the table with the porcelain plates.

Her light caramel hair glinted against the morning light pouring in from the windows beside the living room, the apron she wore gliding over her school uniform. She paused momentarily when she finished, and stared at the kitchen where Yuzu was fixing breakfast.

“Yuzu-chan, did Kurosaki-kun wake up already?” Orihime asked as she took off the apron and folded it carefully to set it aside.

“Ah! Onii-chan must still be sleeping!” Yuzu turned with a spatula in hand and added, “I told him to wake up early yesterday so he could eat properly before leaving to school. Yesterday he woke up late and missed the breakfast I worked hard to make him!”

“Ichi-nii, was probably tired,” Karin sighed as she took a seat and placed her delicate hands on the table. Her eyes traveled over to Orihime and she held herself back from grinning, “Orihime why don’t you go and wake up Ichi-nii?”

“Huh?” The suggestion processed slowly through her mind and sank in. “Me? Wake up Kurosaki-kun?” Orihime felt her heart accelerate at the thought of witnessing Ichigo defenseless.

“Yeah, or you both will be late again,”Karin stated with a small devious smile. “And breakfast too!” Yuzu added with a smile.

“Oh, you are right,” Orihime nodded her head in comprehension. She turned and started to make her way upstairs to Ichigo’s room. Even though she has been living in this house for two years she would always get nervous entering Ichigo’s room.

Orihime knocked on the door, but she was met by silence. She knocked again and called out to Ichigo, yet the silence prolonged. Without hesitation she opened the door silently, and peered into his dark room.

His curtains were blocking the morning sun, and she could barely make out the figure shifting on the bed. Her feet carried her to the side of his bed, where he lay with his arms wide open and above his pillow.

Orihime marveled over his calm expression as he dreamed, a small giggle left her lips when she noticed his signature frown adorning his serene face. Her hand reached out to smooth over it, but without warning she was caught off guard by a strong hand taking hold of her wrist.

She gasped as his hand pulled her body into a warm embrace, her heart felt like it would explode when she realized that she lay on top of Ichigo’s body. The top three buttons of her white shirt popped open as her chest was pulled toward his own strong figure.

“K-kurosaki...” her voice faded when she felt his arms tightened over her.

He mumbled under his warm breath, fanning her flushed skin and making her squirm against his hold. She struggled to free herself, but her attempts seemed futile to his strength.

“Inoue...” her heart skipped a beat when he muttered her name.

Orihime glanced at his sleeping face and wondered what he was dreaming of, as she thought of this his eyebrow twitched and his lips opened. “We can’t run away...stay here with...me...”

“Kurosaki-kun...?” a sweet voice whispered gently into the abyss of his room.

His eyes peered open to find two light chocolate eyes staring at him in curiosity, was he still dreaming?

“Inoue...?” Ichigo pondered aloud as he noticed his arms were around her, pressing her curvaceous body against his own. At the realization his eyes widened and he swallowed nervously, in a flash he stood up and released her.

“I’m sorry Inoue, are you alright?” He tried not to let his eyes follow the sight of her distressed demeanor. Key word; he tried but failed.

“Y-yes, I’m fine,” Orihime managed to stutter as her trembling fingers fixed her uniform. “I just came here to wake you up for school,” she stood up and forced a smile. She silently thanked that the room was dark enough to conceal her blushing state.

“Sure, I’ll be downstairs in a bit,” he said with a lazy smile that melted her heart. “Thank you, Inoue,” Ichigo watched as she left the room.

Once she closed the door, he ran his fingers through the tousled orange hair and let out a big sigh. “I’m an idiot,” he felt ashamed of touching his little sister, he should know better than doing that to such an innocent girl like Inoue.

Ichigo shook his head and paused with honest curiosity, “Wait, what kind of dream did I have?”

---

The class erupted in a mass of commotion when lunch rolled in, the students standing to meet with their friends. From the corner of his eye he could see as she arose from her seat, her flowing long hair catching the glint of sunlight from outside.

He wasn’t the only one that noticed her auburn threadlike strands nor the way in which her slender body moved within the confinements of her school uniform. Ichigo’s eyebrows furrowed at the cotton white button up shirt tucked neatly into her skirt, and swallowed nervously at her demeanor.

Ichigo didn’t understand why the sight of her in the school uniform made him feel uncomfortable...at home she always wore long clothing that hid her soft skin. But since they started high school yesterday he has noticed a lot of things concerning his adopted sister.

Besides her delicate curves, a lot of guys were attracted to her looks. Of course, he understands that she is beautiful. Yet, he wasn’t pleased that scum like them were ogling his sister in that way. At all.

They looked at her with starvation, and he took it upon himself to protect her from their impure motives toward her. Considering how naive and innocent Inoue was.

“Orihime! What did you bring for lunch today?” Tatsuki asked as she came up from behind her.

“The usual!” Orihime smiled as she took out her loaf of bread and side sauces.

Tatsuki turned to face Ichigo and snickered, “What about you Ichigo? Did Orihime make your lunch today?”

He suddenly felt the angry stabs of envy from the guys in class at the mention of Orihime making him lunch. Ever since middle school she would try to make him the oddest lunch he could imagine, fortunately the taste was fine.

“That’s none of your business,” he muttered as he got his bag and stood up, without glancing back he left toward the roof.

“It must suck that you have to live under the same roof with that idiot, is he mean to you at all Orihime?” Tatsuki leaned in to whisper into her friend’s ear.

Orihime blushed and shook her head, “Not at all, Kurosaki-kun is really kind.”

“Ah, there you go again calling him by his last name. Seriously you’ve known each other for years, and you still address him by his last name,” she sighed as she leaned against one of the desks. “If I were you, I would have called him by his name the moment you were adopted into his household. Not only that, I would have taken advantage of your charm and made a move.”

“Tatsuki-chan!” Orihime felt her cheeks brighten at her friend’s suggestion. She glanced around them to make sure no one heard them, in fear that they would know her secret.

A secret that she as his adoptive sister shouldn’t have toward him.

“Orihime...” Tatsuki smiled at her friend’s caution. “It’s perfectly fine if you like him, you two are not related by blood,” she reassured.

“You don’t understand Tatsuki-chan,” Orihime mumbled lowly as her hands set down her lunch on her desk. “Kurosaki-kun, he only sees me as a little sister. He doesn’t see me as a girl,” her lips fell as she said the words aloud.

“My feelings are nothing but a bother...something that will never reach him...” Orihime sighed as she looked at her pale palms.

At home she enjoyed the warm atmosphere his family provided for her, there wasn’t a moment that she would feel sad in the comfort they showered her in. They made her feel like a part of the family, and she didn’t want to trample over that sincerity.

Or to impose her feelings on Ichigo...especially when she knew that he did not consider her as anything more than a sibling.

Tatsuki blinked in surprise as she watched Orihime’s face sink and without hesitation brought her hand on top of her friend’s soft head, “Orihime...I’m sure that Ichigo cares about you, and he’s a bit slow but I’m sure your feelings will reach him.”

Orihime raised her head and felt an earnest smile overcome her, “Thank you, Tatsuki-chan.”

#bear with my writing lol #pro-ichihime #ichihime #ichiori #bittersweet obliviousness #chapter 1

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ainchase · 7 years

Text

Rosé.

Has anyone ever called my name so lovingly before...? He calls it as if the very name is precious... like it’s the most lovely name in the world...

I don’t know if he does it knowingly... No. You wouldn’t know.

The only reason you can be this cruel is because you don’t know... You don’t know what your words do to me.

“This Doesn’t Have A Title and I Am Sorry In Advance (II)”

Previous: This Doesn’t Have a Title and I Am Sorry In Advance (I)

Note: This fanfic is meant to be read with Romance in C Major as its BGM. (Right click on the video and select ‘Loop’)

Usually thirty minutes is pretty short for a lunch break, but I found myself being pleasantly surprised at how much time we still have left. We have a good fifteen minutes before we have to stop staring at the clouds and go back to class. Suddenly, I had a burning desire to ask the question I never bothered to ask before. I broke the silence.

“You know, I’ve been wondering...” “Yeah?”

Ain answered without taking his eyes off the horizon.

“Why do you do that?” “Do what?” “Pretending to be nice to people you hate? If you hate them so much, just tell it to their faces. It’s good to be honest.”

Ain nervously laughed at the question.

“You wouldn’t understand...”

He raised his eyebrows as if amused at his sudden realization. But his eyes were still fixed on the clouds.

“... Then again, I guess you’re the only one who could understand.” “What do you mean?” “You know my family’s history.”

He let out a deep sigh. I stared at him. Something unfortunate happened to his family when we were kids, but only my parents knew the full details. They never told me exactly what occurred, and I never asked Ain in fear of overstepping my boundaries. He fiddled around with the empty can for a bit then opened his mouth.

“My family’s business collapsed because of my father — my brilliant father — who trusted people too easily. After he killed himself, my mother had to raise me.. She expects the perfect son so that she could have her old life back.”

I always assumed his father died of an accident. They stopped coming to church ever since his death, and I wondered if that had anything to do with it. I began to understand why his mother was so strict with him.

“Because he trusted the wrong man... we lost everything. I don’t trust anyone, Rosé. Human beings especially. Not a single one. Those pieces of shit who used my family for their own gain and discarded us... Those who ignored us when we needed their help... I hated them, until I realized the truth: this is how the world runs.

I can’t be like my father, giving endlessly. I’ll use who and whatever I can. The ones who approach me? They’re trying to use me too. I understand that. Yeah, it fucking sucks, and it’s shitty as hell, but that’s reality.”

I was appalled while my mind scrambled to find words. When I managed to do so, they bursted out of my mouth.

“What about me?”

Ain finally looked in my direction, shocked at the hostility in my voice.

”...What about you?” "What's my purpose? Am I...to be discarded later too?"

His eyes widened at the accusation. He calmed down and gave me a concerned expression mixed with guilt and pain.

“...You know I don’t think that way about you, Rosé.” “No, I don’t know that. Can you hear yourself? What am I to you?”

I knew my words sound like an interrogation. I wanted to avoid this god-awful, awkward silence so I took it as a chance to apologize.

“I’m sorry, I just... I got scared... that I might be tossed away.”

I looked up at his face to see if he was upset. Surprisingly, he smiled.

“Not possible. You’re precious to me.”

P-Precious. He just said... precious. I’m precious to him. I hid my face behind the curtain of hair and hoped they will cover my embarrassment. Luckily, Ain didn’t notice and continued.

“They can’t understand why I do this... why I live like this. They can never understand the suffocating pressure I live in... constantly.”

He peered down into the empty soda can as though he’s peeking inside to find words that can help explain his feelings.

“But you’re different. You’re the only one who can understand me. Because you’re my... only friend. The only one I can call my friend.”

He looked up once again and stared at the horizon.

"I can only be honest with you. I can feel the burden on my chest becoming lighter, you know? I...really cherish our moments together."

He sighed and closed his eyes to muster up the strength to say the next words.

“I’m... always trying to be careful around you, Rosé. I never want to do anything that could jeopardize our friendship. I don’t want to lose what we have right now... Ever.”

From that moment until the bell rang, we sat in silence. My mind spun from my confused emotions. On one hand, I was beyond ecstatic to hear from his own lips that I am precious to him. Yet, the agonizing truth dragged me to the depth of hell. I knew what he was trying to say:

“We would be friends... really good friends... and nothing more.”

Where the hell is he?

School festival approached, and the Student Council was at its busiest time of the year. There were mountains of papers to review with Ain, but I couldn’t find him anywhere.

I passed by an empty classroom and glanced into it through the window. A familiar figure lay on the floor.

...Ain?

I rushed into the classroom. He was sprawled on the floor with his back against the wall. He stared at the ground and refused to look up even when I entered.

“Ain, are you okay? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?”

I put my hand on his shoulder, but he waved it away. He breathed very slowly.

"I'll be fine...Just give me a moment. It'll go away...T-This happens s-sometimes." “You... You don’t look well. Are you sure?” “...Leave me alone.” “Can you stand? Let’s go to the nurse’s office.” “I said leave me alone.” “Ain, let me save you... please.”

Ain scoffed.

“Save... me?”

When he raised his head to look into my eyes, I froze at the sheer contempt. He shook his head.

“No one can save me, Rosé.”

A sharp pang of pain stabbed me. My vision blurred from these bottled up emotions.

“Something's obviously wrong, but you won't tell me...! All I've ever done was sit and listen to you talk.”

Looking annoyed from having to repeat the same point again and again, Ain took his gaze away from me and scrutinized the ground.

“Listening alone... is fine. That’s enough for me.” “Isn’t it normal for friends to help each other? You said I was your only friend.”

He narrowed his eyes at me at the mention of the word ‘friend.’

“Yeah, I did say that. I said you’re the only one who can understand me, but that doesn’t mean you have the right to interfere with how I live my own damn life.”

My jaw dropped; my tears couldn't stop falling. It's no use. I don't care anymore...

“Interfere...? Worrying about you is interfering?!” “Rosé!”

Ain shouted. I’ve never heard him shout at anyone before. Who knew I’d be the first person he would shout at? The shock stopped my tears. His cold eyes told me to back off.

“How many times do I have to tell you? Leave me alone.”

He closed his eyes and began massaging his arms. It looked like he was used to doing this. It must have happened many times before.

“I... I don’t want to get attached to you. No, I’ve gotten attached to you already, to the point of loathing myself for it.”

He looked up at me with guilt in his eyes.

“ I'm sorry...I don't want to get used to you. If I always receive your help...I'll start to rely on you...and...I...I-I'm afraid, when I get used to you, Rosé...I'm afraid...I won't be able to function without you.”

Remorse, guilt, shame—which of them left my heart shattered? No...It's fine...I don't mind at all... If only I could say those words...

"Can't we stay the way we are...? That's all...I won't ask for more."

What do I have to do?

... What can I do?

Must I only watch at a distance? I want to help. I...I want to reach out and embrace you. I want to save you...Why can't I be the one to save you? You're suffering, yet you would rather be all alone. Why...? Am I useless...after all?

Ain... Did you know?

You are afraid of being attached to me...but I...I...

I'm already used to you—your voice that calls out my name, your way of smiling at me, your way of telling me I'm special to you. Your words are like the sweetest poison I cannot live without, slowly destroying me from the inside...

I put my head down on the desk and waited for a reply.

I closed my laptop shut and collapsed into my bed.

I don’t know anymore. I don’t want to force my own opinion on him and have our friendship break because of that. I should... respect his opinion... but are things going to be okay?

Maybe Zero is right... maybe I was being selfish...

“I miss you.” “You're mine, Rosé." Such sweet words are but impossible dreams in the sky. But I know...these feelings...aren't purely because of my greed...

Why do these hands not hold anything? Why can't these hands hold anything? I'm...falling into an abyss...as I watch those feelings consume him. I'm chained to the ground and the only thing I can do is watch as he drowns.

Am I...really this worthless? Can't I do anything? Is there something I can do...but wouldn't? If so...should I act upon it? No matter what the costs?

Even if I lose everything in the process?

Next: Your Limit - 1

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