glyphtolde-blog

[glyphtolde-blog]

    the girl’s words calm her, at least, so that the ragged heaving of her breath turns into deep intakes. she feels the snow underneath her forearms where she crouches more as a sensation of numb than cold, && after another moment the ginger huntress turns to fall onto her back, staring upwards. 

     ❝ thanks, weiss. ❞ nora’s unusually subdued tone gives way to her normal manner of speaking after another pause. ❝ MAN, that really was a close one wasn’t it? I mean, not that we haven’t had plenty of close calls before, but this one really felt up in the air for a second. I mean, not that I ever doubted us. obviously. ❞

@glyphtolde ; nora.  ♡  /  the lightning strike part 2.  -  snow patrol.

           ❛     stop waving your arms … you’re safe &. dry. ———  breathe in &. drink up the winter sky.     ❜

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&&. @elleomet

     ❝ heyyy minnie —— you know, I don’t mind you personally, but I was sorta hoping not to see you around. you make my job kinda difficult —— people get pretty lazy when they’re fully fed. ❞

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joculariity‌:

“thank god.” francis did his best to keep his voice stable and his face calm, but the pain in his wide blue eyes was unmistakable, and the tightness in his grip on hawkeye’s shirt betrayed his fear. “well, that’s not to say I haven’t been this whole time,“ he joked, giving the doctor his best weak attempt at a comedic smile. “but I’m sure a few extra prayers wouldn’t hurt at a time like this. perhaps it could take my mind off of the obvious.“

he’d been helping the medical staff long enough to know that he wasn’t in serious danger - his leg hurt, definitely, and he was losing blood, and the bullet had to be removed, and he’d be on crutches for a while, but it wasn’t anything terrible enough that he was in danger of dying or being sent home. but, even knowing all of that, the seriousness in hawk’s eyes and the hole in his pants and the blood in his hand did nothing to relieve his fear.

“are you alright?“ he asked, in a rather weak attempt at keeping his mind off of his own injury. “you haven’t been hit, have you, hawkeye? you’re just the sort who would pretend he hadn’t been shot until everybody else was taken care of! I’ve got my eyes on you!“ by the end of his rambling speech, francis’s voice cracked into a pained whimper, but he continued hiding it as much as he could, desperate to do exactly what he’d been accusing hawkeye of. 

    maybe he finally did catch a break today, && were he more religious hawkeye would assume that the chaplain’s Boss, as it were, had something to do with it —— the wound was obviously painful but the bullet hadn’t hit any vitals. as far as the 4077th went it would be a simple procedure that any of the extremely talented doctors here could perform, though hawkeye was already preparing to insist on doing it himself. this felt like radar all over again, the gnawing guilt, the worry of a close friend hurt.

    it was with practiced ease that he goes about calling a nurse to give instructions, prescriptions for blood units && painkillers falling as easily from his tongue as water. as he’s waving over foremen to bring a gurney to lay the man on, it’s all man can do to try and not give mulcahy a verbal scolding. an incredulous, if slightly exasperated laugh falls from his lips.  

    ❝ excuse me mr. pot, I don’t think we’ve met —— I’m mr. kettle. it’s a good thing hypocrisy isn’t one of the seven deadly sins, huh, father? ❞ 

    his jaw tenses && his eyes go sympathetic ( && impossibly TIRED ) as he tries to keep the emotion out of his voice. he was a doctor, he shouldn’t be worrying his patient, even if said patient was the notorious worrier of the camp.  ❝ I’m fine, && you’ll be alright too  ——  the bullet didn’t hit anything particularly tricky && it doesn’t seem like it fragmented into too many pieces either. it’ll be a clean operation && you’ll be back on your knees praying in no time, I promise. ❞

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author. kicks out leggy does anyone want a starter from one of my good omens muses? ( god , pepper, sloth ) specify who && a verse if you care, otherwise i’ll just choose

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anguisfell‌:

crowley makes a face and shoves his hands into his shallow pockets,   carefully watching the girl’s irritation.   yeah,   this is about what he expected from someone her age trying to summon a demon,   but he’s got too much of a soft spot for kids to truly mess with her like he might an adult.   “   c’mon,   you’re young   !   you’ve got all this brilliant human creativity rattling around in that little brain of your’s   –   you should use it   !   why do you need someone to enact your revenge for you   ?

   “   besides,   you really don’t want to get mixed up with the lot downstairs,   ”   having not moved from the center of the circle,   he leans casually,   looking only a degree or two away from toppling over but somehow keeping his snakeskinned footing,   “   if they’re smart enough,   they’ll find some way to cheat you,   and if they’re not they’ll just be sure to get your soul down to the big man.   you should consider yourself lucky you got me,   instead.   ”

    she squeezes her arms a bit more tightly around her, pulling a face at his words. her gaze drops down to stare at her socks, trying to push down whatever shame was threatening to bubble up through her emotions  ——  instead, anise just lets herself revel in her own annoyance, though when she responded the hint of abashment in her tone showed that she was, in fact, listening to what he said. 

    ❛ everything I tried didn’t work ! reporting her cheating to a teacher, getting her little brother to replace her shampoo with mayonnaise, spreading a rumor that she takes part in illegal cockfighting gambling rings after school —— nothing ! && most of those are true anyway, but she’s still going with —— ! ❜ the girl cuts herself off suddenly, eyes flashing back up to the other as if remembering suddenly who she was talking to. she takes a breath && starts again, willing away the angry tears threatening to prick at her eyes. 

    ❛ well, anyway, if you can’t help me, && I can’t help me, && you’re saying I shouldn’t look for other demons, then what do I do? give up? ❜ she says those words as if the mere thought of them personally offends her. 

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glyphtolde‌:

AUTHOR. hey just a reminder this blog isn’t!! technically really up && ready for business yet “”publicly”” but if you see a muse that interests you you can totally come plot with me and I’ll probably write you a starter. or if you just. tag me in a starter or send me an ask and I will most definitely respond lol, but I won’t be posting a promo / starter call until things in my life calm down a bit && so I’m taking the time to put up all my bio pages.

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ncvaflows‌:

     “Ah well, that explains it.” The sound of her worn copy of Les Miserables flopped shut as she sat up straighter in her seat to look at the pair of bright forlorn blue eyes staring back at her. It was rare to find the youngest of the four girls in the library- she was forever running off with either Maria or Alexei when she wasn’t terrorizing the staff or putting on some sort of production. She never had the patience to sit still long enough or tolerate the peaceful quiet air of their library. A sigh followed as she shook her head, mentally repeating the page number she was last on before divulging her attention to the little imp of the family.

“ And what would you have me do about that, hm?” Was the teasing response with a shake of her head then lifting to look up to the rain splattered window. Heavy droplets continually slid down the pane and out of sight with the sound of light tap-tap-tapping. “I’m sure there’s some mending for you to work on, Nastasia. Unless you wanted me to read you a bit of something?”

    it was all the princess could do to keep herself from bouncing back against the balls of her heels; she had been scolded enough times to recognize this as an impolite habit, but she couldn’t help it  ——  ! the energy bubbled through her && she desperately felt the urge to run, or jump, or roll through the gardens. this library had always felt claustrophobic, a word she had been taught after explaining the feeling to her tutor. but outside the rain fell in such thick sheets that she could barely see through their window anything except miserable, dreary grey. 

    when her sister finally sets the book down anastasia was on the verge of just running out the door anyway, but she had been warned that if she ruined another dress in the rain she would never be given new clothes again && so it’s with a pout that she answers, ❝ mending isn’t fun, and I’m not very good at it anyway. I promised the family of snails in the willow tree that I would visit them today —— is there a way we could read to them too? perhaps with a big umbrella? ❞

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❝ I never let my friends do stupid things.                                                … alone. ❞   ( prompt: ♔ ur && clint )   don’t reblog without permission from @fidelii​ && @glyphtolde​

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you know you’re my best friend, right?

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HEADCANON / RANT : MC.U VS. 616 CLINT

clint u. absolute buffoon. u difficult boy. u total garbage man. listen i wont go in too long of a rant ( edit: oops nvm ) but one thing that just. really really upsets me about the mc.u’s treatment of clint is. how much they just completely nerfed his personality. in the movies he’s??? complacent and quiet and follow’s orders and brooding and is just. A Good Soldier, and so bLAND when that’s litERALLY THE Opposite of him. 

he’s witty and he doesn’t shut up and he’s so sardonic, and jaded, and exhausted!! he’s morally grey!! he’s terrible at following authority!! he respect’s steve but literally gets in fights with him aLL THE TIME. he naturally wants to lead, like look at west-coast avengers! and sure as he develops he’ll try more but he caaaan’t follow orders well. and the mc.u literally took anyway any of the?? wonderfully human, depth-granting flaws that he had. 

what’s his flaw in the movies?????? they shoe-horned moral ambiguity into like five minutes of the final movie and that was it? whenever someone asks me my favorite avenger / super hero i . always always say hawkeye and people 99% of the time give me a look and go ‘why?? he’s so boring??’ and im like i knOW MC.U HIM IS BUT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAnd asdfasdf and if the MC.U is all you know I don’t blame you at all this isn’t?? me attacking people for not knowing comics it’s me screaming at the movies for taking this wonderful, relatable, absolute mess of a character who tries to be good anyway despite all his flaws and just going. ‘uh we need a sixth avenger but we cant have it be spiderman yet so lets??? use this hawkguye person but not actually read anything about his character lmfao’

I remember when I first started reading hawkeye comics what. really made me fall inlove w/ m.att frac.tion is that in an interview he refered to clint as something like “the human embodiment of an on fire garbage can with a heart of gold” and that has always stuck with me!! because he’s not just. some quiet serious soldier like the MC.U portrays him as and that’s why he’s a hero, no! he actively chooses to try and be good now, and it’s a struggle he has to continue with all the time! yes he has a soft heart and it’s one of gold but he comes from a difficult, abusive, dangerous childhood and so he’s been punished and hurt so many times and he could just turn totally rogue and angry and destructive ( which he. has. a few times ) he’s made so many mistakes but he keeps on trying.

and that’s just !! the bad parts!! what about the good??  like he sees a hurt dog in the street and literally just throws money at a hospital until they promise to save him and is. so so distressed about it. how he literally can’t turn away someone in need of help, how he tries so hard to pull himself together just to be a good enough mentor to kate even tho he’s... such a mess. how he defeats mafia in his neighborhood literally just so that the people living in his building can have a moer peaceful life 

anyway this all started bc i was. looking through the tags of some of his ?? Romantic interests ( b.obbi, n.at, jes.sica ) and i was. screaming inside bc I want to ship them and I do but he’s such a mess lmao that he’s just. screwed some of these up so bad. like him and jess had a lot of potential but he’s . just so bad at commitment. him and b.obbi have had. sO MUCH HAPPEN TO THEM that at this point is it like?? can they even trust again?? 

and dont get me started him and n.at have gone through so much and done so much and it hasn’t all been good but for like just a minute some of it has been?? so so lovely and even through the bad they just?? some comics always manage to make me feel like they’re absolutely meant for each other ( others are like. they’re not gonna work romantically. and i respect that. comic multi-verse is so large it’s intimidating but also so ?? good for exploring so many topics and relationships ) but also it makes me soft bc I’m?? a super multi-ship person and i also just?? adore them together platonically because they make such incredible friends?? they really understand certain parts of each other in a way no one else can because they just know each other so well and?? I love that even if they don’t work out in a romantic relationship they’ll always be so close and !! clint will always love her platonically because they’re. just. such good friends. 

( go check out!! this panel!! yes they kiss a moment later and it’s a romantic thing sort of, it’s a mess but it’s so important that at the core of whatever they are they’re still frIENDS )

and don’t even get me sTARTED PART 2. on the friendship between kate and clint, they mean the absolute world to me and it’s really like he lost his way and is spiraling but she makes him want to be a better person bc in a way she’s looking up to him and depending on him ( though he. really depends on her so much more even though he’s the mentor ) and he tries, and makes mistakes, and tries again and they fight but they forgive each other and they work together and!! 

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Natasha’s mission: To spy on Fury and the KGB agent he’s captured and been interrogating.

Clint’s mission: To mime out the entirety of the viral “octopus&puppy r 2 cute 4 words” video he found during lunch.

I’ve wanted an excuse to draw Catherine Tate’s ridiculous faces for ages, and finally did it with Clint. I didn’t even BEGIN to do Tate justice, but it was a barrel of fun, so have a Doctor Who reference~

image description below the cut

Keep reading

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YOU FAILED THAT FAMILY.

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i only ever ASKED QUESTIONS   —                                            that’s all it took to be a DEMON in the old days.

(   dash-only   /   personals don’t reblog   !   )

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aclastra‌:

   SHE  STILL  SMELLS  LIKE  SPRING . like  the  world  up  above ,  it  clings  to  her  flushed  skin ,  her  cheeks  are  rosy  and  bright ,  she  looks  like  a  vision ,  like  the  girl  he  met  in the  garden  so  many  centuries  ago  ,  in  her  green  dress ,  flowers  tangled  in  her  hair .  persephone  loves  the  surface  world ,  loves  the  warmth  that  sweeps  across  the  globe  with  her  very  presence .  it’s  the  climate  she  grew  up  in ,  the  humid   greenhouse  in  which  her  mother  tended  to  her ,  and  it  will  always  be  home .  

but  this  is  home  too ,  and  she  loves  this .  her  heart  had  chugged  along  to  the  rhythm  of  the  train ,  six  months  gone  and  she  was  finally  on  her  way ,  back  to  the  kingdom  of  the  man  she  loved ,  and  she  was  bursting  at  the  seams  with  things  to  tell  him .  things  she  wished  they  had  shared ,  she  could  fill  their  nights  with  endless  chatter ,  whilst  he  listened  patiently  on ,  and  she –  she  could  bring  spring  to  him .  see  his  cheeks  grow  pink ,  hear  his  laugh  fill  her  ears . 

   rushes  forward ,  into  his  arms , suitcase  forgotten  on  the  platform .  presses  her  head  against  his  chest  and  hears  it ,  their  shared  melody ,  the  uplifts  of  las  she  had  longed  to  hear .   i  love  you ,  i  missed  you ,  i  waited  .  he  smells  of  ash ,  of  smoke  and  concrete ;  she  smells  like  blooming  roses ,  like  fresh  cut  grass ,  and  their  scents  mingle ,  they  intertwine .  she  kisses  him ,  and  tastes  reddened   pomegranate  ,  ripe  to  burst . 

               “      –    i   couldn’t    keep   away .   “   

  he was once so preoccupied with appearances —— hades wasn’t sure entirely if that was something he chose, or something that the world had forced onto him, the role of the KING, ruler of the dead, evoking images of graves, cold, hard stone, an immovable will  —— && he still kept them up, calling upon them like a shield, a wall with no scaffolds. but for just a moment as the sun of his kingdom runs towards him the man lays down all his defenses && there is no one but she to bear witness. 

  there was no point in keeping up appearances around her anyway  ——  not when she brought out the very BREATH from his lungs that lay dormant now six months a year, && eternally long before that, not when she had always been able to see right through him ( or perhaps he had let her see, unknowingly, ever since that first time he watched the earth’s sun kiss her shoulders in her mother’s garden && wished, deep inside a heart he hadn’t realized was still beating that it could be his lips instead ).  

   he must have done something right, though, in some part of his long, long existence, because now it was his own lips that kissed her, as he wrapped his arms around the small of her back, fabric bunching against his skin, && smiled, lightly, against the space of her lips.  

  ❛ I must admit I’m glad for that  —— it was cold without you. ❜ his hushed tone manages not to echo anywhere beyond the little cavern they’ve made as he stands just a breath from her, forehead resting at the top of her brow.  ❛ where would you like to start? ❜ it’s a simple question, but one full of promises; they had all the time in the world ( infinity for hades was SIX MONTHS && to him that time meant everything ).

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Is it strange that the night sky beckons me? It calls a name long forgotten yet it is mine. I can remember having created thousands of worlds and countless universes. In my mortal form though. I am hopelessly lost. I can only create what used to be reality, but is now called fiction. I despise it greatly. My children, the stars, call me. Yet I can't answer.

Your children call for you as well. They have not forgotten your form or face. The sound of your voice.

They see your tears. They wish they’d dry. Lay on the ground at night and share the stories of what mortality is like with them.

Theyre listening, always. Always.

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Get up… Fight… Get up… Fight… Get up… Fight… 

Who said you could stop? Who said you could rest? 

Get up…. And fight…. 

You were  m a d e   for this You’re worthless without it 

Don’t stop… Get up… Fight… Get up…. Or die…