#those wings are gonna fuckin hurt
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Ok so I did a very rough mockup of a Deathscythe flower tattoo (based on this amazing Wing Zero art whose artist I unfortunately can't find to properly credit).
I literally traced a photo of a Deathscythe Gunpla because mecha is hard. The flowers I had commissioned for a previous tattoo idea (lol) by lovelittlenikki on Instagram. Mashed the two together to see how it would look in greyscale, since the tattoo artist only does black and white.
#gundam wing#mobile suit gundam wing#deathscythe#duo maxwell#the beam scythe is just kinda hanging out#those wings are gonna fuckin hurt#it would feel wrong to tag this my art so i'm not going to#tattoo ideas
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Oki I’ve never wrote on here before but this is just a thought I’ve had. Might have many typos but we’re just gonna ignore that 🤭 also nsfw and Bakugo is in his 30s so don’t come for me
Oki so imagineeeeee…
Airport Pilot Katsuki
Ik it sounds boring at first but just hear me out….
Okay so like imagine him being an airport pilot, cute uniform and all-
He looks so handsome in it too, CANT FORGET ABOUTT THE CAP OR THE WING PIN TOO
The uniform hugs him so tight too, especially in all the right places
Most def the best lookin pilot out of them all
He’s def one of those pilots who stand at the door and does that nod up thing to greet the people- 😩
(I’m bad at explaining but hopefully you get what I mean 🧍🏽♀️)
Anyways, he always goes with the navy blue suit with gold accessories and a black tie for his pilot outfits
NOT TO MENTION THW MATCHING EARRINGS CUSTOM CUFFS TOO
Kirishima is 100% his co-pilot, you already know
They used to be in the same class during flight school and at first, Katsuki ain’t like him- not one bit
But after being paired up enough, they got along 🤭
And omg lookkkkk, they co-pilots now 💕💕
Anyways, mans take his job VERY seriously. Wants nothing more than a smooth flight too and back or wherever the fuck he’s going- unless it has something to do with turbulence or a storm
OH YEAH- man fuckin hates turbulence…but who doesn’t?
Ofc he knows it’s unavoidable but he finds it more annoying than scary unlike Kirishima who always quakes but at the same time can you blame him??
“Goddamnit red, why are you shaking?? It’s just turbulence! You’re a pilot for fucks sake!”
“OKAY AND?“
I’m with Kiri on this one but anyways…
Yeah he takes his job really serious, he really don’t play Fr
But then there’s you 😍
You in your nice lil flight attendant outfit, aww 🥰
Yeah did I mention that you and Katsuki are dating 🧐🤨 yeah he’s your man mhm
And then you have Mina, Froppy, and Denki who are your coworker flight attendants, dream team Fr dealing with all those people
Okay but back to you and Katsuki, OUU you remeber when Janet said “anytime, anyplace” ? - Yeah that’s him 💀
AS SOON AS THAT FLIGHT LANDS AND EVERYBODY LEAVES THAT PLANE - ITS ON ❤️💀
Kirishima already knows that when Katsuki starts to take off his cap and jacket to “relax” , it’s time for him to leave asap
He’s already learned that the hard way 💀
It’s basically routine atp
Once the Passengers and yalls coworkers leave the plane, he’s already there waiting for you in the cockpit 💀
Mans is in his 30s but he will make do with whatever position he’s in
Mans really made you ride him in his seat 💀 WHERE HE CONTROLS THE PLANE????
In the aisle too 💀 he really does not care
But no it doesn’t end there, so Y’know how pilots/ attendants get a hotel so that they can get on their next plane/shift yeah?
Yea he always makes sure y’all get a hotel together whenever is possible and Jesus 💀
Man is making his time worth while while he can 💀
There is no use in leaving that hotel room either cause you’re gonna be too hurt to
But at the same time, can you blame him? I mean both of y’all sometimes aren’t able to get the same hotel together, y’all have to catch diff planes, and y’all both can end up super busy so 🤷🏽♀️
AND y’all gotta get up early, ya he’s trying to get all his rounds in before y’all separate again-
In the shower, on the bed, IN the bed, on the floor, against the wall, or anywhere else possible 💀
And then he will have the audacity to get room service just to fill up on energy again just for another couple of rounds 🧍🏽♀️
Yeah so that’s my take on Airport Pilot Katsuki 🧍🏽♀️❤️
#katsuki x reader smut#bakugo x reader lemon#husband bakugo x reader#Bakugo#bakugo x reader angst#bakugo x reader#first post#Pilot#mha midoriya#mha bakugo x reader#mha headcanons#headcannons#teehee
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DARK FATE — Mystic 「Dark 02」
[ Dark 01 ]
「Monologue」
I was notorious for causing trouble across both realms.
Not that such thing has changed much presently. However, I didn't know a single concept of laying low at the time.
So, as it would eventually happen, I gathered some less than pleasant experiences.
That day, though...
—Flashback—
[ Location: Unknown — Human Realm ]
Mystic: Huff, huff, huff!
Lout A: Get 'im! Get the sonnoba bitch!
Lout B: Oi, ya damn brat! Quit runnin'!
Mystic: Oh, fuck off!
Mystic off the road. A couple of men trail after him.
Mystic: ( I can't believe these guys hung around the area just to find me. Just my damn luck!
They just so stubborn, too! How come they haven't ran out of energy yet?! )
Get off my ass, will ya?!
Lout B: Big talk for a slut!
Mystic: Ugh!
( I'm gonna rip off all of their goddamn di—— )
Mystic appears distracted. There's a distinct smell on the air. He swerves off through the foliage and rams through until he reaches a clearing.
[ Location: Garden — Unknown ]
Mystic: What...? A mansion? Where the hell did it come from?
Lout A: Where's the brat?
Loat B: Lost 'is stench... but he must be hidin' 'ere somewhere.
Loat A: Tsk... if I just get my hands on 'im
——I'm gonna tear 'im apart.
Loat B: Oh, you nasty motherfucker.
Mystic: ( Ugh... sick bastards. )
Mystic flicks his wrist. A small strix materializes with a flap of its wings.
—Rip!—
Mystic: Naazat. Here, take this. Lead those two away from me. Don't let 'em see you.
The owl grabs the patch. It flies off.
Loat B: ——Ah, right over there!
Loat A: Then go, dammit!
—Footsteps—
Mystic: Huff...
Ah, fuck...
( Look at this fuckin' mess. It's just a gash... but it's still bleeding this much? )
Sigh...
Mystic trudges through the garden.
Mystic: Is there no one here...?
( I can smell them all the way out here, though...
Just how many of them are there living in there? )
「Monologue」
I decided to get help.
Perhaps someone knocking at their garden door, rather than the main entrance, threw them off.
It still amazes me that they didn't immediately kick me out.
Well, Yuma nearly did. Both him and Kou were discussing the matter, while Azusa stared at me without saying much.
Honestly... I felt safer near him out of all the other brothers.
——It was then that Ruki emerged.
I was suspicious when he plainly offered to patch me up.
And I was right to be.
Everyone that offers help will always want something in return, after all...
[ Location: Ruki's Bedroom — Mukami Mansion ]
Mystic: Ugh... sigh——
Ruki: Nn...
Mystic: ( This guy...! )
That hurts, you fuckin' bat! Ah!
Ruki: Mm... is that so?
Ruki tugs at Mystic's hair. He gasps.
Ruki: It seems to me you are enjoying it.
Mystic: Tsk. Da—damn you...
Kuh... ahh...
「Monologue」
What happened afterwards is foggy.
Whatever the difference between Ruki and others was, I couldn't remember a better experience under the fangs of a Vampire.
Some time passed, and I had finally convinced my mother to allow me to attend school in the Human Realm.
It was boredom that drove this decision. Princely responsibilities were becoming too much, I suppose.
The first day I transferred...
Well... it was one of those times the universe decided to be funny.
[ Location: Hallway — Ryotei Academy ]
—Footsteps—
Mystic: ( Homeroom's next...
——It was this one...? )
[ Location: Classroom ]
Mystic walks in. The few students converse amongst themselves.
Mystic: ( Not many students, either. It is a night school, I gue—— )
... ... ...
Mystic finds a familiar figure at one of the desks.
Ruki: ... You...
Mystic: Oh... fuck—
—End Flashback—
「 Dark 02 — End 」
[ Dark 03 ]
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AHHHHHHRGE - me @ that stupid ass character in the first couple of chapters
just thought and feelings as I read the Fourth Wing
Chapter 1 to ♾️: Fuck you jack~
Chapter 16: I’m full of rage b/c of this stupid stupid stupid character. I’m gonna fist fight a fictional character. Right now.
- Dain Aetos has had me in a rage since start. He’s going to be the reason she gets hurt. Cannot change my mind on that.
- also my favorite character is Garrick
- DONT ACT LIKE YOU DIDNT JUST TRY AND TAK HER OUT OF CHOOSING BOTH OF THEM DAIN
- not even two seconds after I started listening to the book again, DAIN FUCKING KISSED HER! FUCK YOU DAIN! I had to pause the book and take a moment of silence. Dain made me contemplate running the car off the road. That how much I don’t like him.
- I’m so glad there Violet and Dains kiss SUCKED ASS
- GET IT RHIANNON!! YOU GO GIRL
- Again, I love Garrick. Love him to death.
- Dain, my boy, you are stupid af. You don’t kiss a girl then TURN AROUND AND TELL HER YOU CANNOT BREAK THE RULE AND BE WITH HER YOU IDIOT
- I love you Imogen
- it’s me realizing that the dislike Tairn has for Dain is the same as my dislike for Dain
- Dain needs to calm the fuck down before he loses a fuckin life. He also needs to realize that Violet is nowhere near his property or EVEN HIS GIRLFRIEND and calm the fuck down. I want Tairn to burn him. Rn.
- No. don’t give that bitch boi ANY FUCKING SYMPATHY. You want to ‘help’ Dain? THEN FUCK THE FUCK OFF BITCH
-OOH POP OFF VIOLENCE GET EM DONT LET THAT MAN CHILD TELL YOU WHAT TO DO
- 1. I feel bad for Jeremiah (?) 2. Him reading Dains thoughts out loud is so fuckin funny
- not those kid’s attacking her in her sleep, she better kick their asses
- I need this child to hurry up and realize she’s wants to fuck this man cause god damn girl, he’s wants to eat you head to toe, and not in the cannibalistic way bestie
- I NEW GOLDIE WAS A BABY <3
- who the fuck unlocked the door?
- girl, thank god you finally admitted to wanting to fuck him 👏🏼👏🏼
- I FUCKING NEW IT! AMBER YOU FUCKING BITCH
- it’s the way Dain keeps showing his true self. She wanted Violet dead. Your best friend, Dain. I hate Dain so so so so very much
- I’m glad Jack is dead but I feel for Violet. Fuck Jack for stabbing Liam.
- YEA XADEN PUT DAIN IN HIS MF PLAcE
- I’m so goddamn glad they finally fucking but pls wording is killing me 😭
- NOT THEM BREAKING THE FUCKING DOOR IM DEAD
- 🫣🫢😧 - my face during this scene
- DID HER MOM HURT OUR BOY?
- OH LOL not the ‘don’t fall for me’
- “Should I get the Wingleader?” Tairn you’re stoooop
- I I I don’t I don’t know. She’s did NOT just say “loved” I’m gonna kick this girls ass. Ahhhhh
- Bitch, don’t be mad at the Dragons.
- her dad still helping her <3
-chapter 35 - did the gov set up the babies? Did they willing let them travel in a group larger than 3 because they are setting them up to kill them all? I’m heart can not handle this
- oh no.. oh no no no.. fuuuck
- Dain better fucking die.
- I’m cry 😭 those poor babies
- chapter 36- well why don’t you just rip my heart out and shove it in a shredder.
- 1. Violet need to understand, had Xaden told her, he would be risking a lot of lives. 2. Dain violated Violet, it was not her fault.
#the fourth wing#dain aetos#violet should stop being your friend#Xaden riorson is better#violet and xaden#stfu dain#Garrick is my fav<3#Rip Liam
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UPSET THAT I CANNOT REPLY TO A POST WITH AN IMAGE. I AM SITTING HERE LIKE THIS THINKING ABOUT VASH/CPHIL PARALLELS:
IM GONNA REPLY TO THIS WITH MY CPHIL/VASH COMPARISON ANALYSIS. BECAUSE THE BRAINROT HAS SET IN AND IT'S KILLING ME.
OK OK ALRIGHT. OK. so first of all. cphil and vash the stampede. angel imagery. lost their best friend. lost their family. lost their home. extreme family issues. vash has a missing arm and phil has a wrecked wing. vash can't use his powers at the end of trimax and phil can't fly anymore. crying. ok so now we've got these fuckin parallels right. ok i'm gonna get into their classpects because they are so similar but so different. this is gonna b under a cut this got away from me i'm so sorry i could talk classpects for HOURSSSSSS
so cPhil to me is a Seer of Life, right? Seers are supposed to guide their fellow players on the right path. cPhil TRIES to do that. right. like he TRIES. but god he is so bad at it. he's so disconnected from mortals in general that he just doesn't know how they work. he thinks they're all doing things wrong and they just need some guidance to do it right!!! and Vash is a Muse of Life to me. lots of parallels here between him and Calliope (seen in this post where i delve into Vash and Knives' classpects).
They're both Life players with the same goals, but with vastly different ways they go about achieving those goals. they just want peace for everyone else, but god they are both so fucking bad at it. they are at opposite ends of a morality scale here. Vash's main focus is keeping people alive and it doesn't matter what he has to do to keep it that way, no matter what happens to himself or whether keeping one guy alive will indirectly result in the deaths of others. Phil's main focus is establishing peace, and he doesn't care what he has to destroy in the meantime to do that, as long as it doesn't harm himself or the people he's close to. To Vash, the ends justify the means. He can sacrifice his own wellbeing to keep others safe as long as no one else gets hurt while he's there. To Phil, the method of getting to his goal matters just as much, because instead of looking at it as just "the ends justify the means" he sees it as "everything i do pushes myself towards achieving what i want, my goal will never be reached without these actions so i might as well do what i want and maybe the destruction will teach everyone a lesson along the way" LIKE HE'S SO FUCKED UP <3
cPhil is so derse dreamer and Vash is so prospit dreamer. THAT'S the big difference!!! they see their actions very differently and that's partially why they act so differently when they have the same goals. Lunar sways are difficult to analyze because there's so much nuance to them, you could have a lot of Prospit traits but have one extremely different trait that could make you a Derse dreamer instead. like it's so weird??? but I once saw a post that summarized it like this: For Prospit dreamers, the end result is more important than the methods it takes to get there; for Derse dreamers, the journey is just as, if not more important, than the end result. Phil HAS to be a Derse dreamer, bc to him his journey is neverending. He's an immortal who has been alive long enough to know that not everyone will see his logic, and he will spend the rest of his life either convincing them to see his ways or he will get rid of those people entirely. To Vash, if he can just convince enough people, if he can just get to others before the destruction occurs, if he can TALK to enough people, maybe the violence will stop one day. It's an IMPOSSIBLE goal, but he keeps trying to look towards that one day where he'll be able to look out at a paradise without death and violence (much like Callie in a lot of ways BUT I'VE ALREADY GONE OVER THAT!!!).
Phil, as a combination Seer and Derse dreamer, knows that the journey is neverending, and he's either given up on pacifism or never tried it in the first place. He SEES that his ideals are not universal, and that knowledge gives him the ability to be apathetic towards other people and destroy what they love to "teach them a lesson." Vash, as a young spry century-and-a-half years old, and as a Muse and Prospit dreamer, still thinks that he can reach his goal of world peace, even though that hopes fades more and more from day to day, but like. his speech near the end of tristamp ep 12 to Knives?? About how he'll just keep going no matter what??? He's not giving up on his ideology because he doesn't SEE. He doesn't KNOWWW that his ideals cannot be universal. Ofc this changes later on in Trimax and he finally takes direct action by killing Legato and gives up on his staunch pacifism, but like. my guy. it took you a LONG ASS TIME to get to this point. my god.
Life players are described as "concerned with the betterment of themselves and those around them, as well as the onward march of positive progress... They also have the tendency to put other's needs before their own, which never ends well for anyone, because the Life-bound can grow bitter if they feel their own self-care has had to be shunted aside. At their best, they are great listeners, caretakers, and nurturers. At their worst, the Life-bound are passive aggressive, and pushy-they're certain they know best.” Both cPhil and Vash are the best and worst of their aspect. They both grow bitter, Vash in Trimax from having to take the high road all the time, and Phil from thinking that no one can see that he knows best. They do listen, and they do care for and nurture others, and they work towards the betterment of others, but sometimes it's people who don't want to be nurtured or bettered. Vash tries to help people who don't want help, and Phil babies cWilbur when he comes back and his "help" towards cTommy is um. not great!! They can both be passive aggressive, and they're both so incredibly sure that they know best. They're both so incredibly stuck in their ways.
Phil is the most stubborn Seer ever, because he only wants to see what will benefit his own life and ideals, not everyone. And Vash, the Muse, keeps on his one-track thought process and resigns himself to doing what he's always done (much like Callie) instead of taking direct action to TRULY change others' lives for the better. They both do finally change this in the very end of their arcs, with Phil reaching out to Niki and retreating to the End with her, Connor, and Kristin, giving up his old lifestyle to help a couple of people he's only known for a couple years and genuinely cared about for much less, basically a blink in his immortal lifespan, and Vash killing Legato to save Livio and Razlo and confronting Knives head on to save the planet.
but like. FUCK, you guys took so long to get just to this point. you are so stuck in your ways you have PROBLEMS
#trigun#dsmp#whiskeys word soup#mcyt classpects#<<this has 2 go in my classpect tag bc it summarizes my cphil seer of life thoughts completely#ALRIGHT. WELL. THAT GOT AWAY FROM ME. BUT UMMM. YEAH.#anyway im gonna rotate these two around in my brain for a few hours <3#i almost want to write a silly little crossover fic where these two just get to sit down and chat. yk?? like. let em talk#chat about their ideals and their immortal lives and how it's affected both of them yk??? sad immortal guys club#I FUCKING LOVE CPHIL I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE HAS PROBLEMS I WANNA PUT HIM IN A FOOD PROCESSOR <3
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Today we get to (maybe) finally learn a little something about Empress Underg! Yeah, about time, am I right? What exactly inspires so much fear from her minions and yet such unwavering loyalty from Skearhead? What could she have possibly wanted from Elle before? And why does she now seek the Pretty Cure's demise? ...only one of these questions will probably be answered, but hey~!
Spoilers, I guess...
-Shalala Real!
-Ahhhhh, Tsubasa's got the secret to perpetual motion in his lap.
-Ahhhhh, I see. It reverses destruction itself, does it?
-Purifcation~!
-Ohhhhhh
-Oh, that's not a good sign.
-Shalala's gonna be our twist villain, isn't she?
-If I had a nickle for everytime a PreCure series I watched had its real main villain be a high-ranking knight... Actually, I'd probably have several nickles. Y'know, with Butler, Fennel, Joker if you wanna be technical on what a knight is, Kawarino if you also wanna be technical on what qualifies as a main villain... Bah, whatever, point of this scene is!
-Research binges pay off, Tsubasa-kun!
-Ageha's taking you out shopping~!
-Oh... oh wow, you're... hella gorgeous. Goddamn, you've got hips for days.
-And yet Miss Sky Blue Sapphic herself seems to take little notice...
-"These 18-19 year old clothes sure are conveniently fitting on my 30 something frame."
-Absolutely wild that this actual goddamn robot's treated so casually, but uh
-Well, I don't mind too much, this isn't the cyberpunk/psychic powers 2020s I was promised.
-And here Sora sits... alone.
-Not even noticing our dear Mashiron...
-A chance to stretch with the Captain~!
-Into the bushes with you!
-"I suppose a lie's a little too much for a pure-hearted hero-type."
-A moment's hesitation... and all her questions rise to the surface.
-"I'll find my own answer."
-I love how gently the music comes in, only to stop just the same way.
-"I get that. This is my reason though..."
-Introspectiooooooooon~!
-She got you there, Tsubasa-kun.
-The resolve to find that answer's been found!
-Farewell, Shalala!
-...so uh... is nobody gonna accompany her, or...?
-No, okay, that's fine!
-You're finally getting some sunshine, boy!
-Oh fuck, Skearhead.
-Ah, yep~! There it is~!
-"Hmph. Suppose I'll try something simpler this time. Kyoborg! Style on those impudent children."
-If this were anybody but Skeebo, I'd say he did this on accident.
-OH
-OKAY HJKLH
-"Yeah, go talk about this with Skearhead!"
-Good job, Wing-kun!
-Ikki ni ikuze! ...w-wait, no...
-We're gonna fuckin' throw her!
-Fly, Sky~!
-Right outta the sky!
-He can't be all bad with love on his side, right?
-"And?"
-Did your trainer only teach you Shadow Ball, Skeebo?
-Oh, he's doing this Freeza style.
-"This isn't your problem anymore, Cure Sky. The dead have no worries left. Nice job, idiot."
-Naivety becomes her heroic strength.
-Hirogaruuuuu... Sky Punch~!
-"Ohhhhhhh, that's not good."
-Wow, he just noped right out of there.
-Didn't even stay for the finisher.
-...sound tactical move, actually. He avoids the lecture and reports back to the Empress in record time.
-He might have a reason... but is that reason really so good he'd hurt innocent people?
-And still we're not even an inch closer to knowing the truth of Empress Underg...
-The Shalala Twist angle I'm going for seems like an obvious pick, but there's honestly no real way to speculate on what the Empress's is deal is besides how power-hungry and scawy she allegedly is.
-Battamonda~!
-Again~!
-Oh fuck, he's roided out!
-He's finally having that big final villain battle he always wanted.
-Right, see you next time, I guess~!
#Hop! Step! Jump! Hero Gals Dream of the Everlasting Sky!#precure#pretty cure#hirogaru sky precure#hirogaru sky spoilers#hirogaru sky pretty cure
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Local Legend (Indruck)
A reader requested #18. I’m a celebrity who’s home in my small town for the holidays and you recognize me in public - sort of
Note: mentions of pot use
Fucking global warming. Or maybe it’s the polar vortex? Either way, Duck could do without the almost-blizzard currently reducing his trip to a crawl. It’s so bad the radio signal is toast, and he can’t risk taking a hand off the wheel even at this pace, so he’s been stuck with his thoughts for the last forty-five minutes.
They’re not bad thoughts; he’s excited for his nephews to see the presents he got them, to catch up with Jane, to slow down and enjoy all those Christmas light filled moments that are supposed to make life worth living.
He’s also chewing on a conversation from yesterday like a goat gnawing at a weed. He’d gone to a continuing ed course, where the chipper facilitator made them write out the goals they had in their past, how those aligned with their present, and what they wanted for their future. What this had to do with wildlife and forestry management, he has no idea. When it came time for a group discussion where the ice breaker was “your most extraordinary moment” he was starting to feel like “just keep doing what I’m doing, maybe get married, don’t die at age fifty” was not the future the presenter had in mind.
His extraordinary moment–beating out several other hopefuls for a full-time ranger position in the national forest–looked minuscule next to the world traveling, small business having, kid and grandkid filled lives of the other attendees.
There is one other moment he could have shared. But no one would have believed him (he wouldn’t either except he’d been there)
He’s eighteen, has snuck off into the forest to smoke with some friends. Friends who have all gone home while he decided to chill a while longer under the starry sky. Trouble is, now he’s a little turned around and the calm fog in his mind is giving way to some serious paranoia.
After what feels like ten hours of wandering in circles, he slumps down against a tree, resting his head on the trunk. Bark scratches his scalp as he looks up into the branches.
Something in the branches looks down. Something with glowing red eyes and dark wings.
“Uh. Hey there, Mr. Mothman. Are you gonna eat me? You’re not gonna eat me, right?”
The creature above him holds perfectly still.
“Man, I know you’re there. Trees don’t have fuckin eyes. Are you tryin to lay in wait like a, a trapdoor spider but in the trees? A treedoor spider? Oh, oh fuck, if moths can get this big who says spiders can’t? Fuck, I’m gonna be eaten by a man-sized trapdoor spider and my parents are gonna find a husk wearin’ my jeans.”
Silent wingbeats carry the cryptid to the ground. Duck tries to back away, forgetting he’s against a tree, and bangs his head into the wood.
“Owfuck”
“It is alright.” The mothman holds out two of his four hands, “I am not going to hurt you. And I assure you there are no Spidermen in these woods. My understanding is those only exist in comic books.”
“Fuck yeah, those are so fuckin cool.”
“Please focus. While you are in no immediate danger, it is unwise to be wandering the dark woods in your state and you seem to be a ways from your home.”
Duck groans, “Fuck, I really went the wrong way didn’t I?”
“Indeed. But that is not unfixable, Duck Newton. If you would like, I can escort you back to the edge of town.” He offers two hands and Duck takes them, standing and then faceplanting into a mass of downy chest feathers.
“Fuuuuuuuck you’re soft. Like a big fluffy cloud.”
A strange little chirr from above him, “You are very kind to say so. Come, your home is this way.”
As they walk, Duck glances up at the cryptid, his already considerable height made taller by his feathery antenna.
“How’d you know my name?”
“I can see the future, and therefore I saw the timeline where you introduced yourself.”
“Damn, so all that stuff about seeing disaster is true.”
“Sadly, yes.”
“Wait, does that mean Kepler is in danger?”
“No” The cryptid links their arms together to navigate him over a tangle of roots, “I am on my way to deal with another matter and stopped here for the night.”
“You just…sleep in the woods? In the cold and everything?”
“I cannot exactly walk into a hotel like this. I have a human form but the charm that allows me to use it was damaged on my way here. Thus my night in the trees.”
Duck leans against him, “You wanna crash on my floor? My folks are out for the night and Jane’s at a friends.”
The mothman stops, looking down at him with surprise, “There was no future where you offered that.”
“Just kinda came to me a second ago.”
“I…thank you, but no, I think it best if I stay out of sight.”
Duck shrugs, idly pets a chitinous arm and talks about things he doesn’t remember the next day until the lights of town peek through the trees.
“Here you are.”
“Thanks. You sure you don’t wanna sleep somewhere warm? No one’ll see you but me and the dog.”
The mothman cocks his head, wide smile spreading across his face, “You are a kind-hearted man, Duck. I foresee that serving you well. All the same, I must decline.” A clawed hand reaches out, plucking a stray leaf from Duck’s hair, “Take care, Duck Newton.”
Duck says he will, starts down the hillside into the light radiating from the back of the Kroger. When he turns back to wave, mothman is still there and raises one, spindly arm to awkwardly return the farewell.
He never told anyone. And he sure as fuck wasn’t about to start with some random group of people at a work training.
The storm only worsens as he hits Point Pleasant, and he does take his hand off the wheel to tip his hat to the Mothman statue. When he pulls up in front of Jane’s house, only the porchlight is on. Removing his phone from his pocket reveals four missed calls from his little sister. He keeps the car running as he calls her back.
“Hey, sorry I missed you, I was drivin’. Everythin’ okay?”
“Yes, in that we’re all happy and healthy. No, in that the weather is so bad every flight out of Denver is grounded.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah that about sums it up. I mean, Wade’s folks are happy to have us stay a few more days, but everything say it’ll be at least two before anyone can get out of here. If you wanna go back to Kepler and wait until we know when we’re gonna be back, I totally get it.”
“Nah, I’m happy to stay here and hold down the fort. Y’all take care, okay?”
His sister is cut off by one of his nephews yelling in the background, only having time to give him a quick “bye” before she’s gone.
He steps out of the car, going straight for the trick rock with the spare key. It’s not there. When he calls Jane to ask if she moved it, she hisses out several curses and says, “we changed the locks and I took it inside to put the new spare in. I must have left it.”
“S’okay, I’ll figure somethin out.”
His “somthing” ends up being driving to several hotels only to find them all booked up. Walking out of hotel number three, he decides to save himself a drive and just start calling them. As the nice young man on the other end explains that they’re all full because of the storm and the holidays, he spots a Holiday Inn across the road and starts for the crosswalk.
Ice paffs into the back of his head, too hard to be accidental.
“Fuck! No, sorry, not you, someone just hit me with a snowball.” He turns in search of the culprit and finds a tall man in a thick, black coat and red glasses staring at him. When he notices Duck glaring at him, he holds up one finger, as if telling him to wait.
Brakes screech behind him and he whirls as a giant pick-up skids through the red light, spinning through the crosswalk he would have been in had he not been stopped.
He hangs up the phone, waving and mouthing a thank you to the stranger. The stranger waves back, smiling as he does. He’s ninety percent sure It’s a wave and smile he’s seen before. He glances back at the Holiday Inn in time to see the “No” appear next to “vacancy.”
When he looks around, he spots the stranger heading away from the center of town and jogs after him, compelled by nothing more than gratitude and the growing certainty he recognizes him.
“Hey, uh, wait, I just wanted to say-” Duck only means to touch the man's arm, but a hidden patch of ice causes him to slip forward and grab it instead. When the other man spins, surprised, his glasses slip down to reveal red, glowing eyes.
“Mothman?” Duck whispers.
A slender finger pushes the glasses back into place, “I do not know what you’re talking about. My name is Indrid Cold.”
“So, what, you just randomly guessed that truck was gonna hit me?”
“Maybe. Please let go of my arm.”
“Look, I could be totally wrong and if I am you can ignore me but…did you ever meet a guy named Duck Newton in the woods? When he was eighteen and stoned outta his mind?”
Indrid looks down at where Duck’s hand is still on his arm, “Yes.”
“Then he wants to thank you for saving his ass a second time.”
For a moment, Indrid’s face goes blank, and Duck is wondering if he needs to call an ambulance when the energy returns to it and he says, “And I would like to return the offer of a place to stay.”
“Holy fuck, really?”
“Yes, though we will need to take your car. If, if that is truly alright?”
“Hell yeah.”
Indrid follows him back to his Jeep, gives him detailed instructions as he slowly winds them out of town and into the woods. When the Jeep finally crunches to a stop, he frowns.
“I don’t wanna be rude, but an abandoned TNT plant don’t seem all that cozy.”
“That all depends on how one approaches it.” Indrid grabs one of his bags while Duck hoists the other, following him to the side of one of the concrete slabs. The taller man sets his fingers on the stone. It glows orange for a moment, and then a door appears. Indrid opens it, gesturing for him to go on in.
The interior of his house is like a basement rec room met a doomsday bunker and had a very cozy baby. There are massive beanbag chairs and a T.V, stacks of DVDs and books all over, and a shelf of boardgames that doesn’t seem to get quite as much use as the other entertainment options. Indrid snaps and a half-dozen space heaters kick on, the cryptid shedding his coat and heading to a pink beanbag.
“Holy fuck, Indrid this place is incredible! Oh dang, I’ve got these at home too” He points to a string of chili-pepper lights above a bulletin board full of drawings, “Know they might be tacky but I can’t help it, I like ‘em.”
“I’d say that means you have excellent taste.”
Duck sits down on the beanbag across from him, “Do you really remember me?”
“Yes.” A new shade of pink crosses Indrid’s cheeks, “ah, relatedly, do you mind if I change forms.”
“It’s your house. Plus, now that I know you ain’t gonna eat me, don’t find you all that scary.”
Indrid removes his glasses. For a nanosecond, reality slows and the world warps. Then the mothman is once again sitting across from him, stretching his wings with a contented sigh.
“Uh….have you always been white?”
“No. My kind change color during winter in order to camouflage in the snow.” Feathery white antenna twitch, “I think it makes me look like an oddly proportioned snowman.”
“Think you look more like first prize at a county fair.”
Indrid cocks his head and blinks.
“Y’know, those big-ass plush animals that everyone is tryin’ to win?”
“Oh! Oh yes. I actually won one of those, a giant pineapple, in St. Louis. Foresight is very useful when playing games of chance.”
“I bet.” As he stretches out on the beanbag, his stomach gurgles, “damn, shoulda stopped for dinner on the way here.”
“I have ramen, macaroni and cheese, or some canned ravioli. Also lots of cereal, but I assumed you’d like something warm.”
Duck settles his hands on his stomach, “some ravioli would fuckin slap right now.”
Indrid grins and chirps, “I shall return.”
Four minutes and one microwave ding later, the cryptid returns with a bowl for Duck and a mug of eggnog for himself. They debate the finer points of different gas stations until Duck sets down his bowl and wipes his mouth.
“Indrid? Did you really invite me here just because I was nice to you years ago?”
A long tongue licks the last of the nog from the glass, “Yes and no. I do remember you, and it was rare for a human who met me to do anything other than panic, let alone invite me into their home. But I also foresaw that, while you would try your best, you would spend until your sister returned feeling lonely and blue. I knew I would also feel lonely, as I often do when cold weather forces me to stay inside as much. It seemed foolish to not at least offer an alternative where we kept each other company. And I, I thought” he taps the tips of his claws together, “I thought perhaps we could do Christmas things together? In the futures it seemed as if you had been looking forward to them.”
The simplicity of the idea, the fact Indrid, the fucking mothman, remembers their meeting as much as Duck does, and the soft hope in Indrid’s voice renders Duck speechless.
Indrid’s wings flutter, “Or if you prefer, you can go back into town tomorrow and call a locksmith.”
Duck rolls onto his side, trying for a charming, collected grin, “Stayin with you seems like a lot more fun.”
Indrid grins and purrs, “wonderful.”
—--------------------------------------
“Whoo-boy, think I’m too fuckin old to sleep on beanbags.” Duck stretches out his back before taking the mug of coffee from Indrid.
“Yes, it seems it would be wide to pick up an air mattress today. In the meantime, here.” Clawtips dig in delicious circles near his shoulder blades, “does that help.”
“Uh huh” Duck tips his head forward, groaning happily, “you oughta open Mothman Massage or somethin’; you’d make a killing and everyone would just think it was a tourist gimmick and not actually you.”
“It’s the noises that often give me away. Humans do not, generally speaking, trill when alarmed or chirp when happy.”
“True, but it just makes it cuter when you do it.”
Indrid’s feathers poof slightly, “That is sweet of you to say. Just let me get changed and then we can venture into the world.”
The storm isn’t any better, so they decide to only stop at Wal-Mart to avoid more chances to put the car into a snowbank. Duck grabs wrapping paper, the air mattress, and some cans of turkey soup with “holiday spices.”
“Anythin you wanna get?”
“Oh, nono, this trip is for you.”
Duck turns, stepping close enough to Indrid that he can whisper, “this is your winter cheer too, mothman of mine. There ain’t anything you like to do this time of year?”
“I…I enjoy the lights. And cookies. And eggnog, but that was perhaps obvious.”
Thirty minutes later, they leave the superstore with several bags of food, six boxes of lights, and a tiny Christmas tree. When they get back to the TNT plant, Duck unpacks as Indrid finds a CD of Christmas music in one of his stacks.
Duck takes point on the lights, stringing them across the lonelier corners of the room and running them up and over bookcases. Indrid pulls out a pad of origami paper and begins folding swans and moths and flowers, which he then pierces with a paperclip and hangs on the tree. He also demolishes two dozen cookies all on his own, while Duck contents himself with a box of big, chewing gingersnaps.
His decorating scheme hits a snag when he can’t quite reach a hook in the corner by Indrid’s bed to hang the last strand of lights on.
“Little help?”
Indrid removes his glasses, shaking out his wings as he stands. Instead of taking the lights, he lifts Duck like he’s no more than a stuffed animal, holding him up easily as he drapes the wire into place.
“Thanks for the helpAH hey, watch it with the feathers, fluffball.” Duck cackles as Indrid tickles his neck.
“Who are you calling fluffball, little human?”
“You, fluffball.” Duck turns, begins running his hands through the feathers on Indrid’s chest, “fuck, how are these even softer than I remember? I didn’t think you could get any more stunnin’, but here we are.”
Indrid’s feathers begin poofing again, but he quickly shakes them back down and taps his claws together, “I, I have a confession. I do not remember you solely for your kindness. I was in that tree because I had seen you and thought you handsome, thought that dragging my tongue across your neck and running my fingers over your belly would be wonderful. I wanted to see how you would react to me but you saw me before I was ready. And then it was clear you were under the influence and so I changed my plan. But I never forgot it.”
Duck blushes, scratches the back of his neck, “Guess I was pretty cute back then.”
“You were. But you are just as wonderful to behold now.”
He looks up into red eyes. Then he raises on his tiptoes and plants a kiss on a fuzzy cheek, murmuring, “You’re sweet, sugar.”
Indrid poofs up completely and stays that way, chirping as Duck continues rubbing slow circles through his feathers.
“I’d always kinda hoped I’d see you again. Turns out the universe did me one better. I’m getting you know you, not just see you.” He pauses, “is this okay? You’re kinda vibrating.”
“I, rrrrr, am, rrrrrrrr, purrrrrrrrrrrrring.”
“Awww, my big ol’ feathery sugar. Come on” he tugs so they’re both sitting on Indrid’s bed, “let’s see how else I can make you purr.”
—------------------------------------------------
“Thanks so much again for rollin’ with all this.” Jane flops on the couch as Duck folds a mountain of laundry.
“It’s what big brothers are for, goofus. I was wondering, if it ain’t too much trouble, I got a, uh, friend in town who’s on his own for the holidays. Would it be okay if I invited him to dinner?”
“Long as it ain’t tonight, that’s fine.”
Duck smiles to himself, “Great. I’ll let him know as soon as I’m done.”
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𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝟎𝟎𝟑 — 𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐙 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐙 .
High is the grand sky's blazing eye, bringing light unto everything that toils below. Beautiful and picturesque it may be — he fucking hated it. Not a single cloud dotted the stretch of blue, so he's left sweating from both nature and so called nurture. Those that eagerly occupy the surrounding stands are all a bunch of twits. People and shades of all sorts, from all regions, have come here ( of all places ) to watch some glorified combat shit? Count him the fuck out.
No, seriously, count him out.
Please, he's nearly begging to slink out of public view and back into the shadows. There's a reason why he lurks in the gloomy nook of the Wildwoods, and it wasn't solely to avoid UV damage.
"Well, well, well." A brusque voice drawls, efficiently snapping Jebidiah back to the unfortunate situation at hand. "Never thought I'd ever get the chance to give your royal arseness a piece of my mind."
Recognition immediately sets in once his eyes slide back into focus. "Norbert, you singlehandedly bust the fuck outta the suggestion box before your stay's even up. Every single fuckin' time. Honestly thought you'd run outta shit to say, but nah— you got a landfill of horseshit to spew, don't'cha? Gonna flood the sewage and waste folk outta space if you keep at it."
A vein bulges from the middle of that awful sevenhead before Jebidiah's even finished. "The hell you know about business?" The man accuses, none too softly as a meaty finger's jabbed across the field. "Place's falling apart and the service's always fucking diabolical—"
"Then why do I keep seein' your sorry ass there, huh? Fuckin' get gone, you craggy sack of shi—" The man's flying towards him in a fit of rage. To which he doesn't find blame for. Not his fault the dimwit's got such a fragile ego, but none of that matters. What matters is the quickest way for him to get out of this stupid shit.
Which would've been a whole lot easier if this pissant wasn't intent on bashing his fucking skull in.
He's not sure where all the bits of metal come from. Seriously, the guy was exclusively wearing a tunic and trousers. No cool jacket with a million pockets or bag of holding-too-damn-much-shit. Norbert simply transforms into a metal plated goliath in a blink of an eye. Which means the direct blow to his ribs really fucking hurts.
The wind's knocked from him clean as he's sent sailing backwards. Whatever war cry the shitheel bellows hardly trumps the ringing that consumes his ears. By the time his body skids, the whole damn ground's shaking. Giant metalclad feet thunder in a frenzy to close the distance. And as much as he'd like to just lay here and tap out at ten seconds.. Something's telling him pissbaby Norbert won't fucking let him. So he tries his damndest to suck in whatever air he can. Somehow amp up the will to survive just as a patchwork foot shadows over him and stomps.
A roar of applause takes air as the metallic transformer opponent tramples the same spot twice more. Each time more victorious than the last. The fourth attempt was soaring back down with the foot's suddenly halted mere inches from the indented floor. Shocked and confused, Norbert tries to push down with all his might until a gasp interjects. Whatever was halting the stomp pushes back — shoves with enough force to offset the metal colossus' balance completely. Backwards the giant falls, crashing to the ground hard enough that tremors rattle the nearest seats.
"Why's it.. when I wanna be left the fuck alone— it's dipshits like you that fuckin' interfere?" A voice, one much deafening and guttural, shouts from earthen cavity. Two claw tipped hands grip the edge. Then three. Then four. Out Jebidiah emerges, transformed due to sheer self-preservation. Two ghastly horns, four wiry arms, and a pair of molten orange wings unfurl as he stands half slouched. Chest heaving out of exertion and growing rage.
"Just leave me the bloody fuck alone—" His body torpedoes forward in an instant. Doesn't matter if Norbert's almost on two feet again. Jebidiah latches onto the head, hellbent on tearing the metal plates apart. And he does. Even as hands grab at him, he makes enough leeway to see that chucklefuck's terrified face. There's no last word. No villainous monologue before an inferno shoots forth from his maw.
The shriek that ensues melds with the crumble of metal. They drop among the debris. One still lit aflame and the other cocooned in wings. Both continue move upon landing. Norbert squirms to extinguish the fire, and Jebidiah merely stands to watch. "Put yourself out n' stay down if you know what's good for you."
And to that fucker's credit, he fucking listened.
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people will put the onus of disgusting behaviour online on others to "curate their space better", and sure, blocking and reporting instead of getting into horrible drawn out arguments with people who will never come to understand you IS better, but like.
as someone who goes out of their way not only to block popular chuds, but goes into reblog chains, the notes of personal posts to block those that like and reblog them, etc. to block As Many People As Possible so that i never have to interact with them... it never stops me from still finding triggering shit when i'm simply just searching for fun stuff to reblog.
like, i have blocked so many misogynists and racists and pedos and rape fetishists, and yet i'll go into tags looking for cute fanart, only to see a bunch of said chuds just talking about their stuff. in these random unrelated tags. and like, the reasons i go to so much trouble to block so many people is because that shit is deeply upsetting, sometimes triggering, to me! so i am trying so hard to avoid these people! but it feels like no matter what i enjoy, there's always some disgusting fucking cunt there to ruin it! and idk! i'm fucking tired of it and yeah i honestly DO kinda wish these stupid terminally online creeps WOULD get seriously hurt, i DO wish they'd get harassed and learn to be better fucking people actually! i'm not gonna pretend to be some little spineless uwu centrist of live and let live, i am sick and fuckin tired of seeing these types of people just getting to exist out in the open without any fuckin criticism (and worse, victims of said people being the ones being criticised instead because they get rightfully fucking angry about shit).
callout culture isnt fucking perfect but the amount of times i've seen people say "callout culture is toxic" only for them to be literal abusers and right-wing fascists and pedophiles whining about it and get so much support from people because they play victim instead, it is fucking infuriating actually! because some victims it is the ONLY method of warning people of staying away from them. i just! idk! im sick of how normalised racism, misogyny, sexual abuse is in online spaces actually! and i want people to face consequences for once
#ramblings#vent#the only thing that stops me from suibaiting chuds is i know it just fuels their victim complex more#not for any benevolent reason lol i hope they all die painfully tbh
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Gonna put these PkMn ideas here with the caveat that I 1000% intend to draw these myself best I can despite my difficulty with animal designs . But . Been thinking
Canary PkMn based off those miner birds that detected poison in mines, would start flying ground and then evolve to be either ghost ground or flying poison depending on if it evolves by leveling up or by being given an item to help it breathe and control the poison that previously was hurting it
Fairy PkMn that starts out dainty and cutesy like most modern fairy portrayals - with , this is important for me , Big fuckin fairy wings , bc its bs there’s not a fairy PkMn with them -- that evolves to a more sinister trickster type creature that becomes either fairy/dark or fairy/ghost - based off how fucked up some folklore fae can get
‘Changeling’ PkMn based off parasite birds???? (Hardest to get more ideas for)
#I've had the first two ideas for fucking ages I just now have motivation to try and put em to paper#The parasite changeling bird however was spurred on by a convo w some friends tonight so it's only like . .30% my idea#But I still wanna do it#AFTER I get some sleep
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Scene: Echoing through the lower strata of civilization, the influence of the guardsmen reverberates through every soul, carving them as totems to their effigies. Their manner too, flows in accordance with the influence from above, so that by the legion, men behave in miniature as those whom they have seen and taken in command. In caves, cafes, forums, symposia, automats, laundromats and psychomats, the seven who are one spiral out in uniform, manifold in overlapping constellations, the same handful of voices drowning out all in white noise.
-- their banter strikes me as eerily familiar, psychorrhax.
-- a cat and a mirror i said i'd pay, now i have, to see it all painted black.
you had only wanted to slip away. there was no need for a procession.
-- y'know, mates. it don't strike me as peculiar at all, y'know, ya got like -- me on the big antennie erryday always flappin my gummies and spreadin pollin like butterfly wings, makes perfect sense it's allergy season every month and no one can see or breathe with eyes all watery and nostrils all shut and it's loike -- why'd they even want to anyway, when they open em up and all they see's joey and the big man blowin smoke up each other's asses or in our faces, just like dad ... and anyway dad's still a fuckin joke, loike -- why don't i just switch him to hospice already, and loike -- why don't big yummy brother jacek just get his cute lil ass over here and rail my even cuter little ass like a japanese magnet line ;-- blow so much cum up in me i bust it out the nose like milk duds -- aw, yeah. brux got that unsexy. brux gets in his big ol' joey chair erry day and spreads his insecure neurotic ramblins to erry open ear like a sweet honey combed and spooted loogie ill-suited as the lozenge ya shoved up yer arsehole!
-- insecure!? who's sayin i'm insecure! i am so secure in myself, i never wear a seatbelt and i got the dents and the grit-paps to prove it!
cpt. haruspex jolted up in the hothouse. over the counter and across the floor. you saw it happening. backlit by the green velvet arabesque. cpts. schreibermachen and psychorrhax had been there listening.
-- do you suppose they can see us sitting here, psychorrhax?
the voice came so close, you could feel the heat on your ear.
-- i can say with certainty that it's always absolutely intentional.
peering through the windowless frame, no glass to bend light nor ripple, the conversation paid them no mind. the enlisted men and the goons were synonymous in description and form. their canvass, their khaki and pleather shone with the gloss of any black regalia we could skin by our own. through the air, rending the currents, a boot twirled as an axe-head to bash cpt. haruspex, gesticulating wildly, back into his seat.
so close, it tickled your neck.
-- they know not that it's us, cpt. schreibermachen.
-- we are anonymous amongst ourselves, for living in our way, so splendid and so open, we have invited others to do likewise.
-- do you suppose we ought have them executed, cpt. schreibermachen?
-- we'd hurt none but ourselves, laik.
while reviewing the footage captured by the sentry drone, cpt. schreibermachen drained himself of a liter of blood as he stood crumbling before the wall which was his brother clinging to him.
this set of men -- observing the other set of men.
their resemblance was indeed uncanny as stated.
-- those men who went down there... they look exactly as us!
-- their names too ... are schreibermachen, psychorrhax and haruspex.
-- they... must be our conscious duplicates!
brux cleared his throat. with the screech of a PA, he whirred.
-- naw, mate. sure it ain't helpin, our evident and irrefutable popularity, what with the lil monopoly we got goin (brux is the winner -- none of you are beatin brux. brux is gonna take all the property, all the money, all your dignity, free time, love, hate and capacity to think original thought) but i consulted the officer's records at the archive of officer viewin (never a finer collection of squeezable asses!) and they are officers -- of equal rank with us -- sharin our surnames by sheer coincidence since shared birth. makes ya wonder, though -- how long they've all known each other?
laika's eyes lingered within a bound document he let hang open.
-- this man you are looking at, sir. he is the cpt. joey schreibermachen who continuously supplies the "forgeries" you have violently expelled and defiled from the orthodox library of all published arts. he has amassed a considerable following as a renegade, outsider and sensual man of the people, despite his prodigious learning and pompous manner.
-- he is a him, psychorrhax? great gehenna, his prose style is ghastly!
(his strange and oscillating manner, to say nothing of the other chimerical assemblages made me suspect it was a collective or historical golem!)
-- he is a man writing in a manner after his own heart. you would appreciate him surely more as an original than as an imitation.
-- he takes my body, my name, my soul, but then he thinks he can have his own prose style? what sense does that make you, psychorrhax?
(bro, i think you should like... totally hang out with the other joey, bro.)
-- to whom is the shade most loyal, the eyes or to the light?
(two pack a broeys. clink and froth, bro. clink and froth.)
-- the eclipse we view only by its shadow.
(what could he give to you and through you, bro?
what could you give and be through him?)
joey needed to take some time. to process, in the lukewarm bitterness of his day old coffee -- that he wasn't the only joey in the world anymore.
-- if our influence is to remain this sharp and persistent, psychorrhax, we can have no hope if we are to run from it. to attempt to remain ignorant of what we now know is simple cowardice, and cowards are now and forever denied the gift which is the dignity of life.
-- to refuse to act is simply to die.
-- we must act, then. act with what certainties we allow ourselves, and remain affirmative within uncertainty, for eyes pressed forward to the sky which is our only horizon, we may reach peak speed, fortified in body and purified of spirit, so the only filth we shall accrue will be the debris and the droplets, the splattering of insects, upon the visors which too conceal our sight with the necessary data we cannot navigate without!
sprawled before the wall of electric eyes, cpt. jacek powdered as a donut hole in the pinstripes of his fine tailoring, began to get to work.
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A couple of months ago I found out that someone I cared for very much had killed herself. Now I have found a post worthy to share here in honour of her life — a song written and performed by Ren in honour of his friend, Joe, who jumped from a bridge. It seems both were freckled - here are the lyrics:
FOR JOE
Its hard to take off from the ground when your wings are cut
Your stomach burns when your drinking from an empty cup
You know the entire ocean came from my tear ducts
I see the world through Fibonacci sequences and double Dutch
I guess there’s some that’s born lucky and there’s some that’s not
I tried to cut away my bitterness hatchet job
I locked my troubles in a trunk inside a pick up truck
Then dumped the whole thing over the same bridge the one you jumped
I think about that sometimes , vividly
What it felt like to look down and see tranquility
One sudden movement in a world of possibility
Only one movement to expose our fragility
I fucking miss you and I miss myself
I miss thinking that were indestructible as hell
I miss chilling by the pier cave and kicking back
Wirth Callum Hugo saga Justin stevie and the fuckin lads
I miss missing that I numbed myself to close the gap
I never even call em up the distance is my plaster cast
The truth is that the day you jumped my childhood jumped too
But I still can’t find the anger all I find is missing you
Man I miss you
with all my rhymes
I picture running 5 minutes quicker im right on time
I Picure pulling you back over the edge and then were crying
And holding you my brother and telling you that its fine
that’s not the way that I worked
Coz I was late like a jerk
Theres not a day I didn’t find a way to break from the hurt
Your body missing so we never got to wave to the herse
I hope your listening , I love you man, I miss you absurd
Fuck
Burn Burn Burn on
Burn Burn Burn on
Another domino it falls
Across the way another’s born
How you supposed to raise a child?
And give it courage from a storm
In a world that is confusing
Contradictions pave our floors
Some will say ‘we’re only human’
Others judge us for a flaws
Some get born In sheets of satin
Some get by in tattered clothes
Some will die before they live
Thats just how the story goes
But for those of us still with us
Who reside inside our hearts
Tell them proudly how you feel
And for those of us who aren’t
Freckled angels stand strong
Freckled angels live on
Freckled angels climb higher
Freckled angels still inspire
Freckled angels wont forget you
Teach me to live my life better
Thirteen years and still I miss you
Now my wings are missing feather
Otherwise id come and join you
But for now im here on earth
Stuck inside this mortal body
But for everything its worth
Made me stronger, made me wiser, made me braver, made me true
Made me face the world with courage,
And thats all because of you
Freckled angels laugh the hardest
And their hearts they are the largest
With their wings they fly the farthest
So I know you’re gonna be okay
Freckled angels live the longest
And their minds they are the strongest
Oh their friends they are the fondest
So I know you’re going to be okay
#ren
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https://youtu.be/ebX5ZvrT6-o
REN- For Joe
Its hard to take off from the ground when your wings are cut
Your stomach burns when your drinking from an empty cup
You know the entire ocean came from my tear ducts
I see the world through Fibonacci sequences and double Dutch
I guess there's some that's born lucky and there's some that's not
I tried to cut away my bitterness hatchet job
I locked my troubles in a trunk inside a pick up truck
Then dumped the whole thing over the same bridge the one you jumped
I think about that sometimes, vividly
What it felt like to look down and see tranquility
One sudden movement in a world of possibility
Only one movement to expose our fragility
I fucking miss you and I miss myself
I miss thinking that were indestructible as hell
I miss chilling by the pier cave and kicking back
With Callum Hugo saga Justin Stevie and the fuckin lads
I miss missing that I numbed myself to close the gap
I never even call em up the distance is my plaster cast
The truth is that the day you jumped my childhood jumped too
But I still can't find the anger all I find is missing you
Man I miss you
With all my rhymes
I picture running 5 minutes quicker I'm right on time
I picture pulling you back over the edge and then were crying
And holding you my brother and telling you that its fine
That's not the way that I worked
Cause I was late like a jerk
There's not a day I didn't find a way to break from the hurt
Your body missing so we never got to wave to the hearse
I hope your listening, I love you man, I miss you absurd
Fuck
Burn Burn Burn on
Burn Burn Burn on
Another domino it falls
Across the way another's born
How you supposed to raise a child?
And give it courage from a storm
In a world that is confusing
Contradictions pave our flaws
Some will say 'we're only human'
Others judge us for a flaws
Some get born In sheets of satin
Some get by in tattered clothes
Some will die before they live
That's just how the story goes
But for those of us still with us
Who reside inside our hearts
Tell them proudly how you feel
And for those of us who aren't
Freckled angels stand strong
Freckled angels live on
Freckled angels climb higher
Freckled angels still inspire
Freckled angels won't forget you
Teach me to live my life better
Thirteen years and still I miss you
Now my wings are missing feather
Otherwise id come and join you
But for now I'm here on earth
Stuck inside this mortal body
But for everything its worth
Made me stronger, made me wiser, made me braver, made me true
Made me face the world with courage
And that's all because of you
Freckled angels laugh the hardest
And their hearts they are the largest
With their wings they fly the farthest
So I know you're gonna be okay
Freckled angels live the longest
And their minds they are the strongest
Oh their friends they are the fondest
So I know you're going to be okay
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long ranty post ahead abt my own experiences w learning instruments and playinf sports
dude yknow what i miss but also dont. playing sports n playing instruments. bc ive done quite a few different of each just in the past. like i was actually a Big football kid when i was around 5 but hated the club i went 2 bc i was the only girl and basically couldnt play bc even at fucking 5 i wasnt treated as an equal player. but also i didnt rlly mind that it was more so how aggressive it was and i didnt like being pushed around n kicked n shit. and i also played cricket which i liked i just timed it badly bc it was around a year where my immune system just fuckin gave up on me and i was sick like every other week and it out me off cricket bc i always felt so guilty for not being able 2 play it that often. n i also played tag rugby which i loved i just hated my coach she was an asshole she made these like 9 yr old kids do some baddd shit. like one time we played a match against another school and it was a cold wet rainy muddy day and i had played a couple times only and was already in so much pain and i went to her fucking in tears bc i had so many scrapes and i could barely feel my hands from the cold and every time i was passed the ball it literally hurt so fucking much and she ucking LAUGHED at me and told me 2 shut up and deal w it bc i agreed 2 play tag rugby so i was gonna do it under any conditions. like i wanted 2 kill her in that moment and i fucking shouldve i remember that moment so fucking clearly bc it was the absolute worst for me i could barely fucking do school work for ages after that bc my hands hurt so fucking much from not being allowed a goddam break when i was 9 years old. anyways yea sports is fun tho its just unfortunate situations. and i rlly wanna do cricket again or atleast like rounders or smt. man americans r actually right w this one tho baseball sounds so much better than rounders rounders sounds like a baby sports baseball sounds like. cool. anyways also w instruments it was a similar sorta thing. i played piano 4 likeee 3 or 4 years and basically picked up nothing lol other than basic music theory but thats expected bc i was like 7 or 8 on average . i also played the flute for another like 2 or 3 years which i was better at and actually played at concerts n shit but i quit that too bc i hated the stress i got from it bc i hated practicing and i hated the structure of my lessons and i hated my schools wind band i was forced 2 join and fucking guilt tripped not to leave bc i was the best player or w/e even tho i fucking hated that bc it put so much pressure on me at like 10 yrs old bc i did all the loud melody bits so if i made a mistake everyone would notice and i hated it. i also tried the cello and the guitar 4 like a month each which i also hated. now im explaining all this i kinda sound like a rich snob. well my initial point was gonna b how sports and music didnt feel 2 different. like ill use tag rugby and the flute 4 my example bc i did those things at around the same time and they were the ones i cared abt the most. but like. it felt like there was a sorta path drawn out for me in both cases. sometimes w the sheet music and sometimes w the playing field. altho i didnt know how 2 sight read and i am also not very observant so u might think oh ok i followed the path drawn out 4 me. but in both cases it felt like i was winging it int he same way. 4 the flute i always wrote the note names (and had many meltdowns over being forced 2 play w sight reading even tho i didnt wanna learn 2 sight read bc i could always just write the note names) but id write it out and instead of like. reading ahead. i just played what was in front of me. and it felt like each time i played it was like. a match or smth and i was just holding out and holding out and skipping over mistakes until i got to the end. and id never plan out the route id take first it was always just my reaction time i relied on which to be fair was not a good idea bc i have dogshit reaction time. but in tag rugby id do essentially the same. when i was on the offensive team, id usually be in front since i was good at avoiding being touched which i realise now is probably a result of my parents bc i was like constantly ready 2 avoid bein hit n shit. but i was always in front but i could never just see the whole playing field so i focused on like. exactly what was directly around me and just depended on my reaction time to avoid being tagged out. and idk i was just thinking. the exhaustion i felt after playing the flute for so long and never being taught how to breathe properly only that i should and the exhaustion i felt after playing sports for so long and never being told how to improve and only what i did wrong and the exhaustion i always felt after being in my house 4 so long and never being told what i was supposed to do and only how everything i was doing was wrong and. yea. connections between childhood trauma and playing music and playing sports.
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I finally wrote something based on this post but it's the comfort specifically while I think about how the other stuff would work
Content Warnings: Mentioned violence (not descriptive), mouth horror, description of blood, attempted brainwashing mention, torture mention (not descriptive), feel free to ask for more.
His eyes opened again, staring at their hands. A slight tremor, the weapon they stole dropped a few feet behind them. Clean from any bodily fluids physically but not mentally. His head was pounding, the accelerated heart beat not helping the noise.
Freedom was here yet it felt so far away. He had no fucking clue where he was or what was around. There could be traps or other threats about. Worrying over that made their head hurt more.
"Damnit. How do I get home?" D'zca muttered, starting to wander around. Nobody was out, likely all fixing the damage he caused. As if they had actually planned to do so much damage to aid their escape. There weren't any thoughts, just...violence.
Which was what those bastards wanted technically. Mindless actions. Just not the kind they wanted.
D'zca kept walking, legs shaking with every step. They stretched their wings out to try and balance themselves, though it just added weight. He ended up stumbling into a nearby wall, cursing under his breath.
"D'zca? Where are you, baby?" A familiar voice called out. They stood still, repeating how his name was said over and over. It eventually sounded like a fake name after the seventh mental repeat. The torture technology that these other Ricks had made was incredible, but nothing could mimic the way their Rick said his name.
He was here. Real and here, not a trap.
They approached, stumbling like a newborn deer. Thankfully the scientist spotted them. Rick caught up to him halfway, wrapping his arms around them tight. Was it to keep them upright or to confirm they were real?
Either way, it was appreciated.
"Sorry it took so long to get ya, sugarcake. I got a little caught up in 'how do I make sure these shitheads don't try shit again' and-" Rick stopped himself from talking, taking a breath. "I'll talk your ears off when we get home."
Home.
D'zca lifted their head from his boyfriend's shoulder, blinking his smaller eyes. "How long have I been gone?" It felt like a week, maybe three. It had to have been.
"A day and a half."
He blinked all their eyes at that.
"...a day and a half?"
Rick nodded, his face dropping at the question. "They really did a fuckin' number on you." He muttered. It wasn't a question, just a statement that had revenge plans brewing behind it.
"Already showed 'em." D'zca muttered, wings drooping down.
Rick was silent for a moment, the sound of fabric rustling implying he was searching for something. "Is it okay if I activate your human disguise? Everyone's already gonna freak the fuck out about you being kidnapped and tortured. Finding out you're an alien would probably give Jerry a heart attack." He paused after that, as if to add a correction to his last sentence but decided against it. "Not that I'm ashamed that you're an alien but like, you mentioned that you didn't want to reveal the truth so-"
"You can do it." D'zca mumbled with a weak attempt of a smile. Slender and strangely soft fingers brushed against the side of their neck before stopping.
"Did...did they fuckin' rip your threads out to re-do them?"
They froze at the question, lips parting to the painful they spent hours achieving. Blood crusted around and on their lips like a dry lipstick, the taste permanent on his tongue. Salty metal with an unnerving sweetness to it.
"I tore them."
"What? Why?"
"...to talk back."
Rick raised a brow, gently pressing to the spot on their neck that would activate the human disguise Rick had made months ago. "What did ya say, hun?"
"...that you made a fighter, not a bitch." D'zca muttered after opening and closing their mouth a couple of times. Their jaw was sore from grinding their teeth so much.
"Attaboy. Let's get you home, baby." The sound of the portal gun followed as well as the weightless feeling of being returned home. The garage; it's familiar smell and sights. The screwdriver that kept rolling back and forth on the desk, the assorted screws scattered on the floor, the blueprints crumpled up near the garbage can, the smell of rich metals and oil.
Home. It smelled like home.
Rick carefully laid them on the makeshift full bed that was made whenever D'zca was first brought here. The flannel sheets felt softer than a feather, cooing the oracle to sleep.
They reached out a sleepy hand towards his partner, tugging on his labcoat. The question was understood without words, Rick laying next to them. His face was the same as those bastards but it was...kinder. More smile lines, eyes that always carried softness to them until someone said or did something to make that go away.
"Just let me know if you need me to leave." He whispered. "I'll understand. You're safe either way. I've got you...and the garage's got you. So, two forces to be reckoned with."
D'zca managed a smile at that, eyes closing. Tired and sore, it was hard to resist sleep. The feeling of something warm being put around him- Rick's coat or blankets, he couldn't tell- and that was all. They frowned slightly, curling closer towards their partner.
A careful arm wrapped across the oracle's body, waiting for a moment. Then those thin fingers curled into D'zca's, squeezing his hand gently. Just that arm around them completed the feeling of being at home.
Rick always gave amazing hugs. Even if he was covered in something, those arms were always perfect. Warm, secure, and carrying the scent of chemicals and cheap cologne. It didn't take long for D'zca to fall asleep, breathing in the scent of home and Earth's oxygen.
#i think this is the most content and tws i've had to mention#oh boy-#tw violence mention#tw brainwashing mention#tw torture mention#tw mouth horror#tw blood mention#🧬; let's waste time...#self ship writing#jesus christ#self ship hurt/comfort#if you recognize this from my main.......no you don't <3#what else do i tag fuck#also excuse any errors or any awkward phrasing this was written at 6 a.m. out of impulse#also i had a sub optimal day so obviously i need to write my self insert being in misery so i can describe rick comforting.#<- that was really fucking sad to write out holy shit i'm pathetic SHFHSHGHSH-#as strange as this sounds this was also kinda self indulgent#i've been out of the writing flow lately and brainrot over horror and angst (not exclusive to each other but can be)#so writing this was both a challenge and like. powering up the writer urges#so i might continue re-writing canon with pierce and maybe do shit with other f/os#wasn't there something i wanted to write up with arthur hastings??? idr.#ANYWAY I'M RAMBLING BECAUSE I'M IN A RAMBLE MOOD-
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How do others view you?
What do others think you're like? Choose whichever pile you're drawn to the most to find out.
Disclaimer: the following is just for entertainment purposes and you should always put your own logic and intuition before any pick-a-card reading. if your reading does not resonate don't force it to!! sometimes certain readers just don't read certain people's energy as well as others and that's okay
Pile 1 🪄
PILE 1 YOU ARE FUCKIN GORGEOUS AND I THINK YOU ALREADY KNOW THAT BUT ITS TRUE!!
You give people butterflies, you make people nervous, you make people's knees weak (specifically men and for some of you this is one man in specific)
Y'all are very fidgety and people notice this all the time. when people like you they focus on this part of you ~a bit. you may feel drawn towards large bodies of water. you have a deep connection with water and it feels like a second home. there are witches, empaths, and intuitives in this pile.
As soon as i got into this reading i got a message that you guys are freethinkers. you're against the status quo, you rebel, a few of you are against capitalism and are anarchist, communist, socialist or generally left wing. you may even think the left is too right. getting big sag energy some gemini too. the unqiue outlook you have doesn't have to be about politics. in this pile are the people who stood their ground as a kid and rebelled against authority figures, the people who stay true to themselves no matter what society or those close to them have to say, people with the craziest identities and life experience like literally the most open-minded people. in this pile are the activists, the humanitarians.
within this group of freethinkers half of you are slow to reveal your true thoughts and the other half of you are ~known for your different opinions. if you're of the secretive half you might have family or friends who have more traditional opinions that you don't exactly agree with. you brush it off and just pretend to agree to avoid conflict as you think arguing about it is a waste of your time. or you don't explicitly state that you agree or disagree. you just let people do their thing even if it deeply bothers your soul. why do you think this is? to keep the peace or because you lack confidence? stay mindful. For the more open half, you definitely get into arguments often. you're stubborn and not willing to give up omg 😭 you're the type to source legitimate studies based off of your memory alone. you absolutely dig into the people that express disagreement with no mercy 😪
Others view you as someone whose committed to their community. you are very involved with the issues of your community and you are passionate about helping others. this could be through work. or you may be an activist of some sort. in this group are social workers, activists and volunteers. You come across as hard-working, devoted and committed. you overthink a lot and you're dependent on whatever you're passionate about. you seem very dutiful.
things that may resonate
blue, doll face, flowers, grey, the stars, India, writing poetry/songs at night, green
songs that may resonate
bezos I - bo burnham, angela - flower face, come & get it - selena gomez
placements that may resonate
aquarius, sagittarius, gemini
Pile 2 🔮
many of you are super young like super super young or you're super immature. childlike. you're a bit impulsive, you don't make the wisest decisions. those around you question your motives at times because your behavior can seem so irrational. they don't understand why you do the things you do or what goes through your head.
People view you as someone who loses their temper easily. you become enraged at the most minor inconveniences. im not gonna lie many of you are pretty toxic. especiallyyyy when you're angry, you lose all self control. you lose the ability to even care about controlling yourself.
you're more of the emotional type, very sensitive. you're easily hurt and when you're rejected it feels as if your heart is being torn into microscopic pieces. when you feel this way you don't know how to handle it because it's all too much to take. which i feel is the root of your strange behavior. This feeling started recently hasn't it? did you lose someone? something? a parent, friend, lover? your house? your job? if it didn't start recently it's been here ever since you lost this thing. your inability to handle deep emotions stems from this loss, this loss has made your already existing emotional problems 10x worse. get where i'm going with this? impulsivity as a coping mechanism, anger issues.
On a more positive note people think that you're very helpful. you're polite and almost submissive?? people ask you to do favors for them and you jump up immediately with no problem. others feels like you silence yourself, like you CHOOSE to stay humble. as if you do too much. they get people pleaser vibes from you but you don't feel that way. you genuinely don't mind doing so much and you might even like it. it's like a distraction for you, it's just something to do and you like to have things to do.
yeah you're very intelligent and you know more than the people around you expect you to. you're underestimated but this can actually be an advantage for you. people are less likely to catch onto clever schemes and you can get away with more because people don't think you're capable of doing any wrong.
things that may resonate
pop music, sandcastles, hands
songs that may resonate
home - cavetown
placements that may resonate
leo, gemini, aquarius, fire dominance, 5H moon
Pile 3 🦴
for pile 3 you have a cold exterior and you actually hurt people's feelings by how detached you come off. you're more the logical, unemotional type but it's like the reason you're so unemotional is because you are actually very emotional deep down. it's like you need the emotional blunting to function because you cannot handle your feelings controlling you. i feel that there was once a time you let your emotions control you and this is why you won't let yourself feel anymore. you're very stressed and you're too hard on yourself. you just keep thinking and thinking and all that does is intensify the stress.
others can read you quite well when it comes to what you're feeling. others know when you're feeling terrible but they also know when you feel warm and fuzzy. you seem really sad a lot of the time, like you're going through a deep struggle. this pile has a resting sad face 😪 you're surrounded with supportive people who are rooting for your happiness. like you have people who think you're going through deep shit, deep emotional pain and grief (to be fair you probably are 💀) and they feel very empathetic towards your struggles.
People go out of their way to do nice things for you and they also try to give you your space because they think it's what you need. you give off a depressed vibe.
Ok so you guys are REALLY self-reliant. so much to a point you have trouble asking others for help. others are desperate to help you, people can get mad because you won't accept their help. people don't want you to have so much on your shoulders.
things that may resonate
dancing, kay, dragon ball
placements that may resonate
pisces, virgo, libra, cancer, gemini, 7H saturn
#astrology#spirituality#tarot#pick a card#cartomancy#tarot reading#astro notes#astro observations#horoscope#pisces#astro community
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