#but that's what faith is innit? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

indiaalphawhiskey · 10 months

Note

Fake summary please for this made up title:

Flip me off and I’ll flip you over

🎸 Flip Me Off and I’ll Flip You Over

It had been an honest mistake, hand to God.

Louis had seen him last night, two rows away from the front, eyes closed and mouthing along perfectly to All This Time, his sweaty tendrils framing his forehead and the sleeves of his Faith in the Future tee artfully cut off.

They had made flirty - some would even say, obscenely heated - eye contact under the bright lights.

That’s how Louis knew about the dimples; that’s why Louis ran to the barricade three songs too early and a little too far to the left. He didn’t actually see if one of the hands that had so desperately clutched at him belonged to Dimples, but he’d thought it safe to think so. (No one stood that close to the stage, totally dolled up in their little outfit just to make eyes at the artist all night and not try to touch him. Please.)

But the thing was, Louis was also just a wee bit hungover this morning; cranky, headache-y, and severely under-caffeinated after a late night at the club and an inhumane five a.m. radio interview call time. Not to mention being unceremoniously manhandled into the car by Joni after some fans got a tad too excitable at the entrance.

So when he saw Dimples for the second concert in a row, now strategically stationed outside his dressing room wearing leather trousers in 36 degree weather, smiling at Louis like that…

Well, he’d just kind of… assumed.

“Bit too early to be this thirsty for a back room shag, darling, innit?” Louis snarked over the pounding in his head. Though he squeezed his eyes shut behind his dark sunglasses, he didn’t miss the startled look on Dimples’ face.

“W-wh—” he stammered, seemingly bewildered. “I—I beg your pardon?”

Louis would roll his eyes at the impeccable feigned innocence if he wasn’t so dizzy. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he peeked one eye open at the same time he lifted his coffee up to his mouth. Caffeine would save him.

He smirked a little at the deep blush on Dimples’ cheeks; at how caught out he clearly was. The movement only made Louis’ head hurt more.

“Posh little thing, aren’t ya?” He observed off-handedly, wincing at the reverberating sounds inside his head over the brim of his cup. Out of the corner of his eye, he clocked the pen in Dimples’ hand and he tipped his head as far as he could without giving himself vertigo to point at it. “Want me to sign your chest or something? Will that get you to leave me alone?”

Dimples narrowed his eyes at Louis in what seemed like the perfect cross between confusion and annoyance. “Ex-cuse me—”

“Come on then,” Louis interrupted impatiently. With a heavy sigh, he gestured with his palm to hand over the pen. “Just lift up your shirt and let’s get this over with—”

“Oh good, you’ve met!” Oli’s voice was so loud it made Louis flinch. Well, it was either his volume or the two forceful slaps he clapped on Louis’ back as he beamed as Dimples. “Louis Tomlinson,” he said, with a dramatic drumroll-type tone to his voice, “meet the legendary Harry Styles, youngest senior concert critic in Rolling Stone magazine history!”

To say those were the absolute worst words Louis could have possibly heard at that moment would have been incorrect. Mostly because the absolute worst words Louis could have possibly heard at that moment were the next six: “He’s here to review your tour!”

Louis lifted his horrified gaze to Harry’s face slowly. Their eyes locked, anger flashing across Harry’s features as he crossed his arms over his chest. Ironically, the lanyard of his press pass was now painfully obvious where it hung around his neck.

“Charmed,” he deadpanned.

Whoops.

— or, Louis Tomlinson’s World Tour was off to a great start until he royally fucked up by mistaking a world famous concert critic for a groupie. Then again, it’s not like anyone said Harry Styles couldn’t be both.

#iaw ask #fake fic titles #fake fic summary

411 notes · View notes

musicforastylesrestaurant · 1 year

Note

Hi hun, would you be in the mood to write something about dadrry dealing with his kids terrible twos pls

The Terrible Two’s.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - something about lhh being a dad does something to me i simply cannot describe so enjoy my loves…!

word count - 1.4k

in which, travelling with your husband around europe hasn’t been the most smooth sailing, especially when your daughters currently experiencing her terrible twos.

Faith Anne Styles.

After dating your boyfriend Harry for just over a year, you fell pregnant at the lovely age of nineteen and now both of you are at the age of twenty one and had a beautiful baby girl.

The perfect mix of both of you.

But life wasn’t all that swell.

As you stand backstage at the One Direction concert in Oslo, Denmark ,the pulsating excitement of the crowd seeping through the walls from the support act McBusted.

You watched as your boyfriend, the charismatic Harry Styles, attempts to navigate the treacherous waters of your two-year-old daughter Faith's terrible twos.

It seems that tonight, the tantrum monster has reared its head, threatening to disrupt the carefully choreographed chaos of the concert.

Great timing there, Faith Baby.

You glance around and notice Niall, Louis, and Liam, all observing the situation with wide eyes and amused expressions.

Harry, ever the doting father, crouches down to Faith's level, his brows furrowing in concern.

"Hey, baby love," Harry cooed gently, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of the chaos. "What's got you feeling so gloom and doom, eh?"

Faith's tiny face contorts, her little fists clenched tightly as she lets out a shrill cry. The sound reverberates through the backstage area, drawing amused glances from the rest of the band.

Louis, unable to resist a cheeky remark, leans over to Liam and whispers, "I think little Faith here is giving Harry a taste of his own teenage rebellion. Karma's a funny thing, innit?"

You never knew Harry in his pre teen years, however from the stories that you had been told by his family and fellow bandmates, he was a bit of a cheeky chappy.

And you couldn’t help but think that Faith, at just two years old, had developed some of his cheeky persona.

Before going down for naps, she would negotiate about how she wasn’t tired and then proceed to jump out of her crib, running through the house the same way that Harry would.

If you ever went to the shops or the park, then you would often catch her talking to random strangers as she held onto your hand or sat in her stroller, waving at them and being the kind girl she is and due to her father most likely doing the exact same thing.

You knew your two year old shouldn’t be interacting with strangers but she was just simply too adorable.

Liam chuckles and nods in agreement, but their attention is quickly pulled back to the unfolding drama.

Harry tries a different approach, his voice filled with patience and understanding. "Faith, darling, let's try to use our words, yeah? What's making you so upset?"

But Faith's wails persist, growing louder and more intense with each passing moment. She falls to the floor, kicking and flailing her arms, her cries echoing through the backstage area.

You watched as Harry ran a hand through his shoulder length hair, you could see slight stress lines appearing on his forehead.

He took it exceptionally hard when Faith would be upset, no parent liked to see their child sad but Harry absolutely hated it. He would always sit with her until she felt up for talking and although she was only a two year old and could hardly form a coherent sentence he would nod his head and listen to every word she said.

Faith idolised him.

Niall chuckles, watching the spectacle unfold. "Well, she's certainly giving us a show, isn't she? The drama of the terrible twos."

Tell you about it.

Harry shoots Niall a slight glare, finding absolutely nothing about the situation taking place funny in the slightest,before refocusing his attention on Faith.

He kneels down beside her, speaking softly amidst the cacophony. “Hey, my love, I know it's frustrating. Let's take some deep breaths together, okay? In and out."

But Faith's tantrum continues to escalate. She starts throwing toys and objects around, her frustration seemingly endless. The backstage area is filled with the commotion, drawing curious glances from the crew members and dancers nearby.

One thing you hated was gaining unnecessary attention.

Louis leans closer to Liam, a mixture of amusement and awe on his face. "I never thought I'd say this, but Faith might just give us a run for our money in the energy department."

Liam chuckles, nodding in agreement. "That she does. But Harry's got this. He's a patient one, that lad."

Harry tries different tactics, attempting to distract Faith with a toy or a silly face. But her cries persist, and the tantrum shows no signs of abating.

The band members exchange glances, a mixture of amusement, sympathy, and mild concern. This is uncharted territory for them, witnessing Harry deal with the full force of a toddler tantrum.

Harry's voice remains calm, though a hint of exhaustion seeps in. "Faith, sweetheart, I understand you're upset. Can you tell daddy what's wrong?"

But Faith's words are muffled amidst the tears and screams, her frustration rendering her temporarily speechless.

She continues to lash out, her tiny body wracked with sobs.

You step closer, offering your support. "Harry, maybe it's best if we take a break. Find a quiet spot for her to calm down."

Harry nods, his eyes filled with determination. "You're right, love. Let's find a quiet room where she can settle."

Together, a crew member leads you as well as Harry and Faith away from the backstage chaos, seeking Together, you lead Harry and Faith away from the backstage chaos, seeking refuge in a nearby dressing room.

The familiar scent of hairspray and the faint echoes of music provide a contrast to the storm of emotions still raging within Faith.

Gently closing the door behind you, you find a comfortable corner where Harry can sit with Faith in his arms. The room is dimly lit, allowing a sense of tranquillity to settle in.

Harry cradles Faith, his touch gentle and reassuring. "Shh, my love. We're here in our little haven. Take your time, sweetheart. We'll wait until you're ready to talk."

And if it was up to both you and Harry, you would both wait an eternity.

Faith's cries gradually subside into sniffles, her breath hitching as she tries to regain control, gripping a strand of her fathers long curls whilst the other grips onto the hem of his shirt.

Harry's soothing presence provides an anchor in the midst of her emotional tempest.

You sit beside them, offering a comforting smile. "It's okay, Faith. Mommy and Daddy are here for you. We love you, no matter what."

Faith looks up at you, her tear-stained cheeks glistening in the soft light. Her eyes search yours, seeking solace and understanding. You gently stroke her hair, allowing the silence to envelop the room, giving Faith the space she needs to collect herself.

Minutes pass, and the tension begins to dissipate. Faith's breathing steadies, her tiny frame relaxing against Harry's chest.

The storm of her tantrum has run its course, leaving behind a weary calm.

Harry speaks softly, his voice a comforting lullaby. "Sometimes, my love, we get overwhelmed. It's okay to feel angry or frustrated. But remember, we're always here to help you through it."

Faith nuzzles closer to Harry, finding comfort in his words. She wraps her tiny arms around his neck, seeking solace in his embrace.

The best father daughter duo.

The door creaks open, and Niall peeks inside, his eyes filled with concern. "Is everything alright?"

You nod, a sense of relief washing over you. "Yes, No, Faith just needed some quiet time. She's calming down now."

There was no doubt that Niall was Faith’s favourite uncle when it came to the four boys.

Niall steps into the room, his face softening as he gazes at the scene before him. "You're doing a great job, you guys. Parenting isn't easy, especially in the midst of all this craziness."

Harry smiles, gratitude and weariness mingling in his eyes. "Thanks, Niall. It's a learning process for all of us. But moments like these remind us why it's all worth it."

The sound of music drifts through the door, a reminder of the support act performing still in full swing. The energy of the crowd and the rhythm of the songs pulse through the walls, but in this small sanctuary, you find a moment of calm amidst the storm.

As Faith's breathing evens out and her grip on Harry loosens, you lean in and plant a tender kiss on her forehead. "We love you, Faith. And we're here for you, always."

Always and forever.

For eternity.

596 notes · View notes

dailytomlinson · 17 days

Text

Guadalajara recap

Louis showed up wearing a Saul Nash tank top paired with C.P Company trousers and Axel Arigato shoes

Setlist had 20 songs (no Chemical)

“We are off to a fucking flyer already. This is gonna be a good gig I can feel it. Let me start this gig how I start every single gig, this is the last gig of this tour... very fucking sad. Let me say a massive, massive thank you to every single person in here, and every single person who’s come to the tour so far. These are my favorite moments and I don't get to experience these moments without you incredible people. This is gonna be a good one I can feel it, I can feel it!”

“Love the balloons!”

“It's fucking deafening in here, it's incredible! So fucking mad! I can not believe we are at this point in the set, it's just fucking flown by.“

“You guys know this already right, this tour has been so so so fucking special for me. Every single minute of the Faith in the Future tour has been incredible, incredible. But honestly, thank you for creating so many fucking memories I'll never ever ever forget. I just want to take a moment to thank every single person who's ever fucking supported me. This tour has been a fucking dream, I can't do it without all you incredible people so thank you, thank you. I also want to say a massive thank you to every single person who works on this tour. Honestly, there's a lot that you guys don't see behind the scenes, so thank you, thank you, thank you, to everyone for making this happen because I fucking love this tour. Maybe I'll just keep talking all night and then it never has to be over innit?”

Louis going “one last time” during: WMI / SIBWAWC / WALLS

Louis, the teacher, at it again: “[to fan] You're the last person I'm telling, it's below the waist!”

“I’m gonna fucking miss this man. That’s all I was thinking while I was up here, is that I’m gonna miss this.”

Louis inviting a fan to take a picture of the whole crew for him / quote / taking a picture with them afterwards

"Is this what you do over here? It's like half a pint! That's a lot babe! Are you joking! [takes a sip] I'm not Mexican yet so I can't drink it all! That's a lot, did you finish yours? How did you finish yours?”

“[forgets lyrics of WDBHG] I'm drunk, it's your fault!”

Closing: Silver Tongues

#060624 #louis tomlinson #fitfwt #fitfwt:latam #fitfwt:guadalajara #fitfwt:recap

70 notes · View notes

omegalomania · 11 months

Text

no ok like. i know this is The YBC Blog and all but i really truly need to go off about how GENUINELY fucking fascinating the whole "young volcanoes" video is on a metatextual level. like the entirety of the youngblood chronicles says a WHOLE hell of a lot about the band in terms of the metaphors it's painting wrt the hiatus and reformation and the fact that they took this particular song (sonically incredibly airy and cheerful, lyrically desolate) and turned it into the dinner party from hell. this is a story where an external force chops up the lead singer and hollows him out and then serves his organs to the rest of the band. theyre made to consume him, literally, against their will!!! and thats not all!! they are vividly hallucinating at this point, because theyve been heavily drugged - again, against their will! - and they see this whole thing as a joyous affair. in their blitzed out brains, this is them reuniting after the harrowing experience of being kidnapped off the goddamn streets! and then they have this fucked up trippy GROUP HALLUCINATION where they are literally EATING PATRICKS ORGANS. and in the real world, none of them can see this happening - except patrick. patrick is not blindfolded. patrick can see them being forcefed his own viscera and he's too fucking high off his ass to do anything about it. in fact, in reality, he barely acknowledges his bandmates at all.

like just thinking about this from a metaphorical perspective. its fucking fascinating innit. the band literally cannibalizes patrick against their will, and he cannibalizes himself against his will, and they are all made to believe this is something that they want to have happen. they are misled and drugged into this. they eat him alive. they eat him ALIVE. and they are made to think they're having a great time doing it.

the band consumes itself for the seeming entertainment of the onlooking vixens. and they don't explore this through the avenue of pete, who the rest of the band regularly cites as the creative impetus behind the band, but through patrick, the voice. the mouthpiece. the one who sings the words. this is the third fucking video they released when the band came back from hiatus. and its this. it is the band being forced to consume the lead singer and primary composer from the inside, and him participating in this forced consumption.

it makes me grip my head and scream. we witness this horrifying incident so early and things only get worse and worse from there. for all that patrick kills joe and pete later in the narrative, they have patrick's blood on their lips first, staining their mouths, slicking their insides. and, like the case with patrick, who has been warped into something violent, they don't do this willingly; it is done to them. we see what true and genuine hatred of music and creativity has motivated the vixens to do. and in contrast we see, by the story's end, the thesis statement that the defenders of the faith love each other beyond any earthly horror that can be inflicted upon them. how unbelievably unfathomably fucking captivating for this to be present at the very start, this warped perversion of that kind of love. what else is friendship and brotherhood but this. what else is love at its most destructive and possessive than this. we are friends, we are brothers in arms, we are companions until the bitterest of all bitter ends. we have wrought immeasurable horrors upon each other. we have consumed each other. we have eaten each other alive. we all have each other's blood on our hands and in our mouths. if save rock and roll is the brightest and most elevated declaration of love imaginable, then young volcanoes is the darkest and most twisted. we don't want to be here. we're having the time of our lives. we're trapped. we're screaming. we missed you. we are better together. we are destroying each other. we love you. we love you to the most twisted and horrific and absolute endpoint imaginable. we love you. they won't let us stop loving you. we love you. they won't let us stop. we love you.

#THATS NOT EVEN TAKING INTO ACCOUNT THE SNAKE MY GOD THE FUCKING SNAKE #THE WAY ITS THIS TANGIBLE REPRESENTATION OF COLLECTIVE TRAUMA #they NEVER see the snake in young volcanoes. it never appears in reality.#but in just one yesterday they all instantly fucking recognize it and they are HORRIFIED by it #I HATE THIS STUPID MOVIE. I AM GUARANTEED TO HAVE PUT MORE THOUGHT INTO THIS THAN THE DAMN BAND.#AND YET IT CAPTIVATES ME.....#*making poasts #cannibalism cw #i mean. since i talk about it pretty prominently lol

266 notes · View notes

maigetheplatypus57 · 1 month

Text

Ok so making this its own post but, cTommy as St. Jude the patron saint of hope and lost causes.

So as a martyred saint I'm assuming that St. Jude's lost causes applies to like, causes that you know are doomed but still hold on to anyways, and in a broader Catholic sense I’m assuming it probably means holding onto your faith in God even at risk of persecution. Whatever. But I also love the interpretation of lost causes as causes that other people have given up on. Causes that were left behind by all but you. I think both ways to interpret that fits absolutely for Tommy. Tommy who believes in causes until the end. Tommy who held on to Wilbur, to Tubbo, to L'manburg until there was nothing to hold onto, even AFTER there was nothing left to hold on to. Tommy who refused to give up on Wilbur even when everyone else did, who trusted that he wouldn't press the button (even if he did, weeks later), who followed him around after revival, and when asked why said it's not about giving him second chances, "It's about making sure you don't give up on the people you care about." (credits to @angry-ursidae for the transcript!)

Also very fitting that St. Jude was one of the 12 apostles, the ones who founded the Church after Jesus' ascension. Tommy who was there from the beginning, who was there to found L’manburg and believed in it wholeheartedly, who died for it even before he could see what it would become. Planting seeds in a garden you’ll never get to see.

@Aurhis-aurelio-innit’s tags also provided some key tommy moments, especially on hope:

#sobbing and wailing #tommy and hope. #do you remember that pogtopia line. #about how what happens if we dont have hope and all that #i dont have it memorized but god im forever thinking about how he views hope as a reason in and of itself to live #ist always him choosing over and over again to love and hope even if everyone tells him theres nothing there #shows him that love will only hurt #and lvoes anyway. #its why i love shroud so much #he got that spider after the prison #and he still had space to hope theres smth better life for them #if i got timelines right anyway possible i didnt #anyway. #ur so right prev u get me #like how lmanburg wasnt meant to be but IS #both works so well #aurebagels

cTommy as the Church of Prime’s Patron Saint of lost causes. Of the unloved. Of Hope.

#mcyt #dsmp #ctommy #tommyinnit #maige's posts #maige's ramblings #religion #christianity #<- tell me if i need to add cw or tw to either of those #Do you think God got tired of me fucking. Blorbo thinking and doom spiraling every fucking Sunday and said 'here think about a saint #or something for fucking once make it abt a character if thats what it takes'#anyways shout out to the watchparty discord who found the video around the same time that ursidae responded to me! yall are the best <3

30 notes · View notes

sugawarassoulmate · 2 years

Note

can you feed me more incel kenma thots

like becoming close to someone over a game they never talk she tends to use the txt chat so he’s completely unaware that his new friend is a chick.

or maybe she has a very androgynous voice, he cant really tell if their a he or a she, but lands up assuming that they’re a guy bc of their gaming skills and humor, a woman could never be this good. maybe he’s too invested into their conversations to say any of his shitty thoughts on women. when they decide to use cams while they play he finds out that this person he’s been talking to is a woman. homeboy is shell shocked. idk what would happen from there but yeah

*misogynistic language*

incel!kenma absolutely bewildered when he finds out that his gaming buddy for the last few months is a girl. he assumes you're his friend's sister or girlfriend but then you start speaking and it's the voice he's been talking shit with.

"yeah, dude, it's me~" you sing-song, opening the minecraft server you two have been working on. "are you getting on or what?"

but kenma's having a crisis of faith. there's no way a dumb slut could game as well as you. you have to be cheating or someone else is playing for you. but as the session continues, you're playing like you always do.

you're shooting the shit with him, or at least trying. "dude, you're playing like a little bitch right now," you tease, shitting on him for getting killed repeatedly.

if only you knew how hard kenma was on the other side of the screen right now but mixed with his bizarre pleasure is the overwhelming urge to reel back with all the disgusting things he can call you. whores like you only get good at games to impress the men in these communities. how many other guys are you talking to? did they know about you as well?

it's an obsession now innit?

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kenma x reader #kenma kozume x reader #kozume kenma x reader #kenma smut #haikyuu smut #haikyu smut #🍑#🍑kenma #incel!kenma

910 notes · View notes

munchkin1156 · 10 months

Text

I have fallen (but have faith, for I shall rise once more)

. . .

Borrower Techno with rest of sbi as god's? More likely than you think :D

2.2k words for part one, definitely going to make a part two because I'm not about to LEAVE y'all on a cliffhanger like that.

(Cw: Blood, injuries, mention of death (non happens) swearing, angst, accidental fearplay and Techno passes out due to blood loss.)

Hope you enjoy my (technically) first addition to the mcyt g/t community from my user!

. . .

Technoblade wasn’t like other borrowers.

Other borrowers didn’t have voices in their heads, who screamed at him for blood, grew emotionally attached to the most random things, or know things that helped him evade capture multiple times.

Other borrowers didn’t have memories that never existed, searing into his brain at moments when he loses themselves, of friendships with beings of power, of him being a being of power, of falling from the clouds for a crime he did not do.

When his sword is stained red from those who wronged him, then in his head it rings. When the voices, or as he called them, Chat, started chanting. It never made sense, what they chanted.

Blood for the blood god

And it scared him, not knowing what it meant. But he couldn’t dwell on it now, just like he couldn’t dwell on it yesterday. He was a borrower, and that meant he needed to borrow.

Techno stepped outside of the comfort that was the shelter that he had been using for the past week. Being a wandering borrower, he didn’t have a home, exactly. He wandered from place to place, travelling lightly and swiftly, being able to escape at a moment's notice.

He had bases in some places, so he could restock and rest for a bit, but he was exploring a new area and that came with the consequence of not knowing where safety lay, so if a bean were to see him, he might not be able to get out of there fast enough.

But it wouldn’t come to that. Techno was an amazing borrower, and his motto was literally ‘Technoblade never dies’. He started walking through the long grass, humming to himself. He wouldn’t get caught, he was certain of it.

So why did he feel so uneasy?

. . .

“Hey- Hey! Stop it!” He whispered, whipping his sword out as an act of defence. The crow squawked defiantly but didn’t stop trying to pick him up with its beak.

Techno groaned. Crows were always nice to him, and they were one of the few things that gave him those memories other than blood.

Memories of black wings surrounding him, feeling safety and warmth, and when he looked into those eyes-

Other things that did this were music, especially guitars or discs, the colour red, and that one statue. It had been in some rich fucker’s garden, and from what he had overheard the people in it were gods, whatever that was.

Their names, according to the beans he had been eavesdropping on, were Philza, Angel of Death, a golden blonde man with large black crow wings, a fatherly expression on his face as he stared at Soot, the god of music and chaos, a brunette who was laughing and ruffling the hair of Innit, god of discs and the wilderness.

And, standing a little bit away from the others, was a statue with its head gone. According to one of the beans, it was because they had been banished from the kingdom above, for a crime so terrible, and therefore been erased from history.

He also heard them say that it turned out to be an accident, that DreamXD, had framed him. But by that time it was discovered, it was too late, and he had been cast down, though it is said those three gods still search for him, in the hopes that they could bring him back.

They said his name was Blade, the god of war and blood. And that’s how he got his name.

Technoblade.

And, another funny thing is, no matter how hard he sees those gods as Philza, Soot, and Innit, like the man described, some hidden part of his mind changes that to Phil, Wilbur, and Tommy. But that was beside the point.

The point was, that no matter how nice the crows were to him, they kept trying to take him somewhere.

Usually, they’d stop if he complained or shouted, or drew his sword (never intending to kill, just to scare them off) and they’d stop. But this one was even more persistent, and Techno realised now that he’d either have to fight it (something he would like to avoid if possible, he liked crows and they sometimes brought him gifts) or run.

He chose the latter, dashing to the side the moment the crow grabbed him. It squawked in outrage and Techno realised that it couldn’t chase after him on foot, with its legs like sticks. Birds were meant to fly, not walk.

‘Looks like I win this time, eh?’

He thinks, grinning to himself. The crow that he escaped from cawed loudly, and he only had a split second to wonder what that could mean before another crow SWOOPS down out of nowhere and yoinks (he’s not even sure what that word means but it seems about right for this situation) him up in its claws.

He had jinxed it. Techno didn’t believe in superstition, but he was certain that was what had happened.

The pinkette struggled in the crow's grasp, desperate to get free before it took him to… Well, wherever it was taking him. But it was no use. He wondered why it was so determined to bring him wherever it was going. Techno supposed he’d find out, soon enough.

Eventually, after a few minutes of flying, the borrower noticed something very, very strange. The crow was taking him up. And by that, he meant really, really high up. The world below was barely visible, as they went higher and higher, through the clouds.

And once they came out of the clouds, Techno couldn’t believe his eyes.

“The kingdom above… Fucking hell it’s real…”

He muttered to himself in awe. It was made out of pristine white shining material that might’ve been made out of the clouds themselves, with magical glowing lanterns floating in the air.

Techno’s first thought was that it belonged to the ruler of this kingdom, or at least some kind of person in power, I mean it was so fine and well-kept that it had to be, right? Wrong.

On closer inspection, he realised that the people walking down below were… Normal. This was a normal town here, and these were normal civilians.

The crow flew past it though, taking Techno with it. Its wingbeats never slowed, and it showed no sign of tiredness. This was no ordinary crow, he was sure of it.

And this was no ordinary place. Chat had stopped talking altogether, and his mind felt as if it was his own, at last. It was as if someone wanted him to be peaceful, but that was silly since he was literally getting kidnapped by a bird.

What a great day Techno was having, right?

Aaaaand now the crow was flying down, towards three people that looked awfully familiar, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it and then-

Oh fuck that’s Philza, Soot and Innit. He’d recognize them anywhere, after the incident with the statue. Oh, he’s fucked. He’s going to die, oh stars he needs to get out of this mess-

‘But aren’t the gods his family?’

He brushed that thought off with a shudder. Why on earth did he keep thinking stuff like that!? It didn’t make any sense, and you better believe that he was gonna get to the bottom of this.

Not today though. He was about to get caught by some of the most powerful beings in the entire universe, and he’d actually rather not. He valued his life, after all. So he did what any self-respecting borrower would do and fucking stab the bird.

Techno hadn’t particularly wanted to stab the crow. As he might’ve mentioned before, he liked crows. There just hadn’t been another choice.

And it had worked.

The crow dropped him with a screech, alerting the three gods immediately. Their gazes fell on the bleeding crow who flew over to them with a lot of effort and landed on Philza’s outstretched arm. It healed almost instantly.

But the pinkette didn’t know any of this, because he happened to be falling when that situation had played out. And when Techno hit the ground, he felt his body scream out in pain and his head ring in agony.

The world around him felt loud and blurry. His head seemed to be sticky with what he could only assume was blood. He forced himself to stand, he needed to get out of here, needed to be safe-

Chat was back now, just as incoherent and jumbled as his thoughts, and from what he managed to make out, delusional. They kept saying something about… Dadza? Who the hell was- Oh. Wait what!?

So Chat was no help.

Techno winced. He couldn’t think, everything was just so loud and it hurt so damn much and he couldn’t understand and oh fuck did one of the Gods? beans just spot him and oh no they’re all walking towards him now.

The borrower’s eyes widen, and he couldn’t help but shrink back as the three gods towered over him, eyeing him over with such a strange expression of hope and longing that made Techno wonder if he actually was delusional.

The silence was broken when one of the gods, Innit, spoke up, voice breaking slightly and eyes glazed, as if holding back tears.

“Holy shit… Is it him? Like, really him?”

Philza responded, managing to sound calm and yet so desperate that it made Techno’s cold heart shatter, though he was not sure why.

“I don’t know Tommy (wait WHAT-), why don’t we ask him instead of talking over his head?” The angel of death suggested, and now they were all staring at him again, possibly even more intensely than before.

“So,” Philza said curiously. “Who are you, why did you stab my crow and why did it try to bring you here?”

There was no malice in his voice, it was just confusion and subtle amusement, but that just made Techno’s nerves worse. The only reason he could think of that would involve the god being amused about his half-dead state was-

Oh fuck, were they going to torture him?

“I’m Technoblade,” He said, after a few moments of hesitation. The pinkette ignored the sharp gasp of air from above, acting like he didn’t hear it, because he did not want to think of why the god might be shocked, and instead continued.

“I stabbed your crow because I was about to get seen (and look how that ended up) and I have no clue why it brought me here.” Techno knew it was not a smart idea to lie to a god, and he was anything but stupid. His injuries throbbed painfully, but the gods either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

Techno wasn’t about to guess which one…

After a very long while (in which Techno was trying his absolute hardest not to die on the spot) Soot spoke up. “So that’s a- a yes, then? It’s him?” He asked, voice cracking slightly. “Yes, Wilbur, (WHAT THE FUCK) It’s really him.”

The borrower didn’t have time to question what in the world he meant by that, because at that moment Philza reached down, and Techno realised what was about to happen a second too late.

He scrambled backwards as the hand came towards him, absolutely terrified out of his wits, but the god paid no mind to that, plucking him off the ground by his waist easily.

Techno struggled in his grasp but fell limp almost immediately. There was no way he was escaping from Philza, even though he wanted to, and besides, it just made his injuries worse. The tight grip the god had him in didn’t help either.

“What do you want from me!?”

He shouted, glaring at the gods, though it quickly fell as he remembered how easily they could crush him. Soot made a small noise (pity?) but he ignored it. “You- you really don’t remember us?” Asked Innit, with a look of despair on his face.

‘Remember you? I’ve never seen you before in my life!’

Not in this one you haven’t.

Responded one of the voices, before it faded back into the clutter of noise. “Chat?” Philza asked, and Techno almost responded with ‘Yeah, it’s making no sense…’ when he remembered that he never told them about Chat.

Something clicked behind Soot’s eyes, and he spoke up. “So you really don’t know who we are… Right?” Techno nodded. Where exactly was (Wilbur) Soot going with this? “So that means…” “Means what? I’m not about to sit around all day waiting while you give me half-formed answers,” the borrower responded, with more challenge in his tone than was wise.

It’s not like you could stop them from doing that…

Said another one of those loud voices unhelpfully. ‘Thanks a lot…’ He thought to himself irritatedly and stared at Soot expectantly, which was harder than it seemed because his eyes kept unfocusing, and the corners of his vision were blurry and stained red. ‘Blood?’

“Listen, Technoblade, I don’t know what species you think you are, but…” He hesitated again, before continuing.

“You're a god, and our brother, at that.” Soot paused, and then started saying something more. “I’m so glad we finally found you, we’ve-”

But Techno didn’t get to hear what they’d done, the blood loss had finally caught up to him, and he passed out, darkness now surrounding him as he finally drifted into a dreamless sleep.

. . .

Aaaaaand that's it, folks! Great ending we got there, right? Hope you liked it :] Big thanks to Beckyu for helping me choose how to end it, and start next chapter.

That reminds me...

@i-am-beckyu and @brick-a-doodle-do, thank you for wanting to be tagged! If you want to be tagged, comment, ask or dm me and I'll add you! :D

Bye for now!!!

87 notes · View notes

dracosleftarsecheek · 3 months

Text

INTRO POST (under the cut):

name: Flynn

my favourite colour: green

pronouns: she/they/he

sexuality: lesbian 🧡🤍🩷

gender identity: genderqueer 💜🤍💚

hogwarts house: slytherin

grisha order: etherealki, I'm an Inferni

i'm a witch, maiden obviously and i am of the celtic faith ish

minor

I have AuDhd and switch special interests like lightning

current hyperfixation: six of crows

my partner is the lovely @uhmmmmaixllezhere <3

i have a fanfic called The Roots We Grow on ao3, under dracosrightarsecheek

EVERY MAIN FANDOM I'M IN BECAUSE NO ONE ASKED!! 👍 + main ships too if you're interested

HARRY POTTER (boo J.K Rowling what a piece of filth)

-Drarry

-Wolfstar

-Jily/Jegulus (I swing either way)

-Linny

-Romione, Ronmione? whatever its called the straight one

-Sebinis/Gauntlow same thing innit

-Perciver

-Dorlene

STAR WARS

-Obikin

-Wolfwren (LETS GO LESBIANS)

-Thranto

-Kalluzeb

plus like scoundress and all the base level ones

SHADOW AND BONE/SIX OF CROWS

-Wesperrrrr

-Kanej

-Zoyalai (but nikolai is mine)

I'm in love with Nikolai in a friend way so yk bonus points

LOCKWOOD AND CO

-Locklyle

-somewhat Flo and George but I am majorly on the fence about aroace George or not

ATLA

-Zukka (no questions asked)

-Kataang ig

-Mai (Mei?) x Ty Lee

JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS

-Juke (obviously)

-Willex (duh)

-Nick x A Pig's Ass (I just strongly dislike Nick okay)

anyways that's like it I think but um if you want a headcanon or microfic or something on any of these just send me an ask and I will get on it! shameless self plug lmao BYEEEE

25 notes · View notes

valerileygreen · 1 month

Text

Arthur used to believe his destiny was written in the stars. More specifically, he believed the stars were his destiny, ever since he first learned about them and fell in love.

He was just a little boy when his father first took him stargazing, showing him the constellations and telling him the stories behind them. That night Arthur learned about a brilliant star named Arcturus, and maybe it was just how similar their names were but he felt a connection. He thought it was a sign.

The memory comes back to Arthur now, as he’s tucked safely against Eames’ side (finally, finally) in the aftermath of inception, with Eames’ fingers gently tracing the outline of his tattoo.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for the tattoo type, darling.” Eames breaks the blissful silence between them.

“I'm not really.” Arthur shrugs non-committally. “There's just the one.”

“Oh yes, I’m well aware of that, pet, rest assured. What does it mean?”

And Arthur feels suddenly uncharacteristically shy, which seems incongruous at this point, with Eames. Eames, who is inarguably the person who knows him best now, but maybe that’s the point. For all he knows about him, Eames doesn’t know this part of Arthur, the bright-eyed little boy who fell in love with the stars. It’s a part of him that feels so distant and yet so intimate, and Arthur feels weirdly protective of that boy that was him, that still is him in some way. So he deflects. He shifts his head a little and raises an eyebrow, trying for nonchalance. “It’s just a constellation.”

But of course, he knows that Eames would never be fooled, his reluctance in full display for the forger’s sharp eyes to catch. If anything, it’s only going to fuel his interest, turning a passing curiosity into an intriguing mystery.

“Yeah, I can see that, thank you very much.” Eames states somewhat sarcastically. “But why? Knowing you, you didn’t just get it for the heck of it. Unless you were just young and stupid.” A shit-eating smirk spreads on Eames’ face. “Oh, it's that, innit? Darling, you sho- Ow!”

A well-aimed swat to the stomach cuts him off. “Shut up Eames!”

“I'm just saying, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. I have a couple of those myself.”

Arthur snorts. “Why am I not surprised? But no, I was just young. Impulsive maybe. But I don't regret it. It’s a good token.”

“Ah, so there is a reason behind it.” Eames smiles, still with a teasing lilt in his tone, satisfied. But then he must read something on Arthur’s face, because he turns serious, tightening his arm around his shoulders a bit, as if to ease the tension seeping in, his voice softer. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, you know?”

Arthur knows it. He knows that if he says he doesn’t want to talk about it Eames would respect it and back down, for now at least. And part of him wants to go along with it, they’ve just gotten together, it’s too soon to reveal so much about themselves, no matter how harmless it is, and he’s not sure if he’s ready for that kind of vulnerability yet. On the other hand, this here is just the culmination of years of getting to know each other, flirting and dancing around each other, and after everything they went through together there’s no one he trusts more, in or out of dreamshare. And, he thinks, if he wants something more to come out of this, maybe he should take a little leap of faith.

He takes a deep breath and smiles slightly. “No, it’s okay. It’s a bit silly really. This is a constellation named Bootes.” At Eames’ low inquiring sound he huffs a short laugh. “I suppose it may not be one of the best known in itself, but it has a star…” Arthur shifts to point at a spot in his tattoo. “See this big star here? Its name is Arcturus and it's the fourth brightest star in the sky.”

“Arcturus? Oh. Oh, darling, are you telling me you have your own star in the sky?”

Arthur can’t help the light blush spreading on his face, that was actually kind of the point. “No. No, it's not like that. It just- it speaks to me. I got the tattoo just before the Army. I wanted something to remind myself that it was just temporary, that there was more to the world and I shouldn't stop dreaming. And, name or not, Arcturus is my favourite star.” He shakes his head wistfully. “It’s ironic in retrospect.”

“Maybe a little bit. But I think it worked splendidly, don't you? Look at you now, dreaming for work. Your younger self would be proud.” Eames muses while running his hand through Arthur’s wild hair.

“Mm, perhaps.” Arthur concedes, slowly but surely melting to Eames’ touch. “I just like astronomy, really. Enough to entertain the idea of making a career out of it at a point. But then life happened. The war happened, and Project Somnacin happened. And here we are.”

“Here we are. And what a bloody good place is here.” Eames grins.

Arthur gives a contented sigh. “It really is.”

“So, while we’re in the mood, care to tell me more about your star?”

Arthur hesitates just a fraction of a moment, but Eames just keeps looking at him as if really interested and petting his hair, and so he relaxes fully. While still a little self-conscious at first, he grows more excited as he loses himself in the story. He tells Eames everything he knows about it and its myths; that Arcturus means ‘Guardian of the Bear’, the Ursa Major; that Bootes is the Herdsman driving that same constellation around the North Pole.

Eames is utterly fascinated by this adorably nerdy side of Arthur, always so practical and in control but finally letting himself loose with him. It feels precious, and Eames feels a surge of fondness as Arthur tries and mostly fails to explain his bond with those stars. He knows though.

“You may deny it, but I believe it really is your star, you know. It fits who and what you are perfectly. You’re naturally protective, and as a pointman it's practically in your job prescription to plan and guide and direct and take care of your team, like Bootes and Arcturus do for the Bear.”

Arthur freezes in surprise, but then a slow smile lights up his face as all the dots connect, and he kisses Eames.

“Does this mean you’ll take me see the real Arcturus soon?” Eames asks with a laugh after breaking the kiss.

Arthur beams as he answers. “It’s a date.”

Bootes, the Herdsman. Arcturus the Guardian. Arthur the Pointman. Arthur’s destiny was always written in the stars.

#I really don't know what this is #I just got the scene stuck in my mind so it needed to get out #it's just self indulgent stuff about Arthur the myths behind the stars and dreamhusbands #I don't know who else might be interested #also I am NOT a writer so I really hope it reads decently but right now I don't think I can do better #arthur #arthur x eames #inception

17 notes · View notes