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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year ago

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Someone New 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Tuesday! Ugh.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s nearly midnight in Norway by the time you’re free of the airport. The train station isn’t far; it’s part of the airport. You wait on a bench between the rails as your boarding is two hours away. You sit with your luggage and mope. This new land only adds to the gloom clinging to you.

You shiver as a draft flows down the tunnel. Not only is grey and grim, but it’s cold. It’s almost June but the weather is more akin to the cusp of winter and spring back home.

Your weeks of research couldn’t prepare you for the real things. All that anticipation could never compare to that moment of desolation; alone in this far land, away from everything you knew. Everything around you is new and foreign and unwelcoming.

When the train pulls up, you wait in queue with the other passengers. Some are native, speaking in lilted English or indecipherable Norwegian. Duolingo hasn’t done much for you as you catch only scraps of pronouns and verbs. Others are new arrivals like yourself but they seem much more certain of themselves. You feel utterly lost.

You show your ticket and board. You tuck your bag away with the larger pieces kept at the front of the carriage and hug your carry-on in your lap. You stare out the window as the train begins to roll on the tracks, screeching as it pulls out into the black night of this strange land.

The subtle rumble of the locomotive lulls you into a half-sleep. Your head is wrought with the ache of your building hangover and twisted visions of the life left behind. You hear Steve’s final goodbye, you feel the hug that was snugger on your end than his, and you feel the razor of Peggy’s spiteful eye. Even in a stupour, you can’t forget it. You hope Sam is right and that it will fade with time, yet you fear it might all be gone for good.

You wake as the automated voice announces your stop as the next one. You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. You’re trying to be optimistic. Just focus on work. That’s what this is all about. Everyone keeps saying it and you haven’t heard any of them. This is a great opportunity. What you’ve been hoping for all these years. How did you forget that?

You disembark and drag your bag behind your heavy feet. You’re exhausted but you still have a trek to go. Everything looks so different than back home. Small differences but enough to reinforce your displacement.

You find the rental car kiosk at the other end of the station and show your reservation. Work is paying for that too. Apparently, you’ll need it to get to the site. Another harbinger of desolation.

You hook up your phone to the built-in bluetooth and tap the address already saved in your maps. The app takes a moment to recenter and finally, you’re off. You wonder if you should even be driving. You’re definitely not drunk anymore but you’re barely awake.

It’s only an hours ride across the city, just along the ridges that look off onto the coast. It’s beautiful. You can see that even through your melancholy.

The morning rises as you get your key to the blue paneled townhouse. You should try to stay up to reset your clock but you’re jet lagged to the bone. The moment the door is locked, you let your bags fall to the floor and stumble through to the first piece of furniture you see. You collapse face first onto the couch, unable to feel the impact as you plummet into a deep sleep.

Time, space, and all your pain disappears. There is only the endless void of fatigue. Your mind is too tired to summon nightmares or nonsensical visions. Your body is so drained that even your brain is empty.

You wake on your arm, fingers tingling painfully as your shoulder muscles burn. You hiss and sit up. The bend of your fingers and a shaky attempt to move your elbow make you whine. Ugh. You rub feeling back into the limb as you lean against the back of the couch.

You look around, finally able to take it all in. The house is neat and sleek. White plaster and pale wood finishes. The couch you sit on is a sectional and there’s a match ottoman across from you. The TV mounted on the wall reflects the shadow of the archway behind you and the tall lamp in the corner and the stone and marble ornaments.

You rise, wobbling on your legs, and put your arms out to get your bearings. You meander through the townhouse. You can hardly admire the furnished interior as it underlines your loneliness. All this space for just you.

There’s a kitchen at the rear of the house, a large wooden island standing center to a fridge with a glass door and polished counters carved in granite. The tiles are pristinely placed diamonds in hexagons and a large window looks out into the rain-soaked yard. It’s night again, or maybe that’s what the daylight looks like here.

Upstairs, there’s a bedroom and a bathroom. A full tub and separate shower, two sinks set into a sparkling counter, and a wall of mirrors above them. It truly is a dream but why doesn’t it feel like it?

You amble down stairs and fish out your phone. The battery is at eight percent. You have several texts. All from Sam. You only remember then why you don’t see any from Steve. No, you won’t check.

You quickly type that you’ve landed safely and set the cell down. You’ll let it die before you plug back in. You need time. You need to get yourself straight. You need to accept that this is all real. You made this choice.

You’re starting over. It’s a new life and there’s no room for your heart here.

💟

You have the night to unpack, more than just your luggage. Still, there are things you can’t let out. Not yet. As much as the blade twists in your chest, taking it out will mean a deluge you can’t quell. For now, you just won’t think about it.

You sleep a few more hours and wake just before six. You have your bag ready to go for the day. You tie on your boots and pull on a lined jacket before braving the Norwegian summer. You lock the door behind you and yawn into the brisk air.

Before you head for the site, you stop at a cafe you see along the way. You get an egg biscuit and a coffee with extra espresso. You’re sure to add on a snack to eat between your work.

You drive towards the greater mountains and turn onto the road that angles up the side. You follow the curved ledge as the GPS guides you through the car speakers. The drive is two hours up, maybe a bit quicker on the way down. Suddenly, a ping sounds from the system and you glance at the screen; ‘signal lost’. Shoot. It’s okay. You think you’re almost there.

You pull over, not that there’s much space to do so. You have the physical maps you’ll use for the work itself. You find yourself amid the lines and symbols and memorise the path forward. You continue on cautiously, reassured as you’re met with a sign that delineates the site. The plot has already been closed off with a fence.

‘Grant land. No trespassing.’

You park just outside the fencing and grab your bag and your breakfast. You sit on the hood and eat as you look over the muddy site. You read the grant report. It’s here they think there was a settlement. Not a very big one but an important one.

The rock wall hugs the site in an almost perfect basin as the slick land is barren of almost any growth. You’ll start with gridding it all out, both with string and on paper. You clap your hands off and get up to begin. The process will keep your distracted.

You put your earbud in and set to task. You pause to sip coffee and mark the paper between planting the stakes and the string the twine to divvy it all up in squares. You watch where you put each step, the mud sucking at your treads. A wet site is never an easy one.

It takes the first day just to prep for digging and you don’t even think you’re done. You’re tired and achy and ready to go home. It’ll take you nearly three hours back by your guess. The night will be a short one as you figure you’ll need to head out earlier, especially if you hope to take advantage of the fleeting sunlight.

As you get back to the townhouse, it’s night again. You walk down to a fish restaurant just a block away. The faces are friendly and the food is good, but it all seems so bland. You eat and go back to your accommodation. Not home, just a place to lay your head.

You check your phone. Back amid the world of the living, you have a dozen messages; Sam, Bucky, your mom, Arturo. You respond to each of them in turn, assuring them that all is well. You don’t have the energy for much more.

Yet it isn’t up to you. Your phone chimes at you as you near the bed, sitting on the edge as you answer. You know with Sam that ignoring him will only make him worse.

“Hey,” you answer with an unrestrained yawn.

“Yo, how ya feeling?” he asks.

“Erm, tired,” you lean forward, crossing and arm over your knees. “How are things there?”

“Eh, usual. So, uh, did that paradise punch knock you on your ass too or am I getting old?” He chuckles.

“Heh, yeah, no I’m feeling it still,” you mutter.

“Mm, it’s late there...” he says, “sorry, if I’m keeping you up.”

“No, it’s fine. Just... a lot of driving.”

“Oh? You worked today?”

“Wanted to get a head start,” you shrug as you play with the fold of your pajamas across your knee.

“How is it? Is it bleak? Cold? Are the men gruff?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. Grey. Bit chilly but it’s not bad around noon,” you say dully, “haven’t seen much of the locals. With how long it takes me to get up the mountain...”

“Oh, a mountain,” he echoes enthusiastically, “that’s exciting.”

“I guess. Eats away the day.”

“I’m sure,” he agrees glumly, “hey, don’t forget to treat yourself. Take a weekend off and hit that spa.”

“I will. I just got here.”

“Well, we all miss you,” he says. “Bucky especially. We got in a huge blow out the other day over the string in his hoodie.”

“Of course you did,” you can’t help but laugh.

“Really, I didn’t do anything. I was trying to fix it and it just... slipped inside, I don’t know. I don’t think it was about the string,” he snickers. “Probably having to deal with Steve and his--” Sam stops himself, “sorry.”

“What? No, it’s fine. Really. I came out here to get away but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist.”

“I know but you’re tryna forget him. Like you should,” Sam insists. “And he’ll realise soon enough what he missed out on all these years. And you need to do the same. Go out, explore, enjoy it. You’ll need to have some good stories to bring back to us here, we’re dying of boredom without you.”

“Yeah, uh, I’ll try,” you grumble, “anyway, I gotta head out early for the dig so I should let you go.”

“Right, of course,” he agrees, “don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

“Night,” he says.

You return a ‘good night’ and hang up. You toss your phone onto the pillow and heave as you clutch your head. You hate this. Why did you come all this way just to suffer? You should have just stuck it out. Sat on the sidelines like you always did and just swallow it all down. This is worse. Being so alone.

There’s no going back. Not now. So you just need to get through this and after... after you’ll just have to face Mr. and Mrs. Rogers with a fake smile and broken heart.

💟

The next week goes by much like your first days there. You wake up, drive up the mountain, plot, dig, clean up, and drive back. You sleep almost as soon as you sit down. You don’t have time to mull over what you left behind, not as you catalogue every bone and bead you come across.

You check in with Arturo when you can, just to confirm that everything is going according to plan. Often, you’re asleep when anyone else calls. You wake up to notifications from your mom and Sam and even Bucky. You should call them back but you just can’t. You can’t put on a fake voice for them. Not yet.

You take a day off. Only after Arturo insists. You know you should. You may as well have a proper grocery shop. You can’t keep living off the cafe and fish shop.

The shop feels more like a market. You pick through produce and meats, and get what’s easy. You’ll cook it all and package it up so you can just heat it up later. Some muffins to eat on your way up the mountain and maybe a few protein bars.

As you trawl the grocery store aisles, you pull out your phone. You have a pile of unread notifications from Insta. You don’t often check it anyway but your curious and a little homesick.

You see your mom’s post about her trip to the vineyard with her book club pals and Sam’s story with a very agitated looking Bucky. That makes you laugh. You scroll by some crafting videos and the pages you follow of castle curators living your aspirational goals.

Then you stop. You pull the cart still and go rigid as you stare at the screen. The image of Steve and Peggy burns into your retinas like a blinding light. It’s there engagement announcement. He has her in his arms, kissing her, as she holds out her hand to the camera to show off the diamond.

You can’t breathe. Your chest is on fire and your ears are ringing. It’s like salt in the wound and you don’t doubt it's intentional, at least on Peggy’s part.

Your hands shake as you grip the phone tightly and tap on Steve’s username. You ignore the rest of his profile and the pictures you know will only add to the turmoil brewing in your stomach. You hit the button in the corner and tap again and again. ‘You are about to block ‘starsnstripes18, are you sure’. Yes and yes!

You lock the screen and drop the phone into your purse, nestled into the basket of the cart. You grasp the bar and push the cart forward, steadying your steps with it. You look between the shelves and exhale.

You need to go cold turkey. No more Steve, no more Peggy, no more New York. You stood still so long, it feels good to run away from it all.

#steve rogers #thor #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #someone new #fic #grayish fic #angst fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers #au

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cantwritethetword · 8 months ago

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(2023) TickleTober Day 8: Alien - More Human Than You Think

Fic Descript - The Doctor maintains that being tickling is a strictly human thing. While Rory is quick to accept it, Amy knows him too well.

~A/N - BLAME @carrie-tate FOR THIS HER 11TH DOCTOR ART HAS REIGNITED MY LOVE OF THIS TRIO AND INSPIRED ME TO WRITE THIS FIC (ngl heavily based on this art)

These guys were my first introduction to doctor who when I was like 8 so they are very very important to me I love them, so hopefully I write this well ^^

(also feel it's important for everyone to know that I watched this wonderful montage the whole time I was writing it lmao)

- Enoy! ~

Tag List: @fullsongphilosopher

Masterpost Link

TickleTober Masterpost

"I keep thinking I'm used to you." Rory said with a light chuckle.

The Doctor popped up from where he was working. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked with a scrunched face, wielding a modified hair dryer and what looked like washing machine tablets.

Clearly the irony was lost on him.

The TARDIS needed a little TLC (in the Doctor's words), and so the team had taken the rare opportunity of peacefully floating through space to get some adjustments done. The Doctor was banging and tinkering at the console, Rory was watching, and Amy had gone to take a shower (because apparently she had no desire to listen to the Doctor's consistent yapping as he worked).

"Well, I've been here for long enough to feel like I know you." Rory explained. "But then you go do something... odd... And it's like the first day I met you all over again."

"Are you forgetting Rory," The Doctor half-shouted over the whirring of the hair dryer. "I'm an over 900 year old Time Lord from another planet, of course I'm odd. The best people are."

Rory softly tilted his head, taking a moment to fully appreciate that perhaps it was the overall circumstance that was weird rather than the person in front of him, before circling around the console closer to his friend.

"That looks better." The Doctor sat upright and clicked off his tool, turning to face Rory. "What do you think? After this I've just got a few more tweaks and we can be off again."

"You look human though." Rory continued from his previous train of thought. "You eat human food, you dress in human clothes, surely you aren't completely Alien."

"I'm just as Alien to you as you are to me." The Doctor chirped, scurrying over to the next stage in his TARDIS-repair plan.

As he moved, however, he failed to realise the space (or lack thereof) between his head and the edge of the console. He let out a tight-lipped groan as he rubbed the impact site on the top of his forehead.

"And you feel pain like us." Rory added, jumping to add the spontaneous example that would back up his point to the list.

The Doctor shot him an agitated look. "Don't they teach you bedside manner at your nursing job? I near enough break my skull and all you do is point out that we both feel pain? Most beings do!"

Rory, ignoring the Doctor's initial complaining and instead focusing on his last statement, nodded in contemplation. "I suppose they do..."

"I sUpPoSe tHeY- ugh..." The Doctor rolled his eyes, accepting that he wasn't getting any sympathy from the usually most sympathetic person on the TARDIS. "Any other questions? Or can I get back to doing something important."

"Hmm..." Rory scratched the back of his head. "Are you ticklish or anything?"

The Doctor froze momentarily, before jumping to his feet with a spin and a smile. "Nope, that's unique to you humans."

Rory gave him a doubtful but unsure look.

"Honestly, if anything you lot are the weird ones with your... hyperactive nervous systems... and... involuntary laughter responses..." The Doctor rambled, but his flow was a little more disjointed than usual.

"I guess so..." Rory nodded, but he still couldn't shake the memory of the Doctor's odd reaction.

But, there was little time to think about it.

"Has he bored you to death yet?" Amy said with a grin from the stairway.

"Hey!" The Doctor complained as Rory laughed. "I'm the most quality entertainment out there."

Rory opened his arm for Amy to tuck herself under it. "The Doctor was just telling me how weird we humans are."

Amy gave him a look. "You're one to talk Mr Bow-Tie."

The Doctor tugged on the aforementioned accessory. "Bow ties are-."

"Bow ties are cool, right." She finished for him, rolling her eyes. "My point still stands, how exactly are we the weird ones?"

As Rory opened his mouth, the Doctor jumped in first. "Well, weird might be a strong word. Humanity is wonderful and beautiful and terrible and strange and-"

"We're ticklish." Rory interrupted. "But that was the only example he could give me so I'm not sure I-"

"Oh you're not ticklish, Doctor?" Amy asked halfway through Rory's statement, but something in her grin made The Doctor suspect she knew the answer already.

"Uh..." The Doctor rubbed his neck. "Well I... Well..."

"He said it was just a human thing." Rory offered a response, oblivious to the rising tension surrounding the Doctor.

"Is it now?" Amy took a few steps closer to the Time Lord, her face trying to seem innocent and confused. "Just humans?"

The Doctor stumbled backwards, his hands fumbling over themselves. "Well, perhaps sometimes... some Time Lords may... may be a little more uh... susceptible to uh... to things like that."

Amy continued her devastatingly slow pursuit around the console of the TARDIS, leaving Rory on the opposite side. "And would you be one of them?"

Rory finally caught on as the Doctor backed up towards him. "Wait you lied to me?!"

"Rory it was nothing personal I just-" The Doctor babbled nervously, his hands now forming a semi-protective barrier between him and his pursuer.

Amy made eye contact with her husband, that evil grin still plastered on her face. "Rory, how do we feel about liars?"

Without a word, Rory stepped behind the Doctor and hooked his arms under the Doctor's shoulders.

"Waitwaitwaitwait no!" The Doctor shrieked, wriggling in Rory's hold. "Plehease!"

"Huh..." Amy paused, an inquisitive look on her face. "Humans normally wait for the tickling to start before we start laughing... Is that a Time Lord thing too?"

The Doctor whined. "Yohou know that's not truhue!"

Rory chuckled from behind. "You're not really in a position to talk about truth right now."

The Doctor was about to argue when Amy lunged, lightly scribbling her fingernails all over the poor Doctor's torso. He inhaled sharply, the effort of containing his reactions forcing out squeaking noises.

"Seems pretty ticklish to me." Rory commented, struggling with the sudden responsibility of keeping the Doctor upright.

Amy smirked, pausing her attack. "Oh, I don't know... He's not laughing anymore, maybe he was right..."

"I'm-" The Doctor panted out. "Always... right-"

Before he even had the chance to finish there were ten fingers digging under his armpits.

His eagerness to jump at the opportunity to talk after being unable to for the last ten seconds was exactly what Amy was counting on, and the sudden unexpected attack brought out a shriek of helpless cackles from the poor Doctor.

With a grin, Amy looked up at her husband. "Now this is what I'd call ticklish."

"OHOKAY FINE FINE FIHIHINE!" The Doctor yelped in between giggles. "I'M TICKLIHISH! JUST LET ME GOHOHO!"

Rory and Amy locked eyes, smirking.

"What do you think Rory?" Amy asked, letting her fingers skitter up and down the Doctor's bony ribcage. "Have we proved our point?"

Rory hummed in thought, drawing out his response to mess with the Time Lord as long as humanly possible. "I might be convinced, but he still hasn't apologised for lying..."

"I DIHIDN'T HAVE A CHOHOHOICE!!!"

Switching to drilling her thumbs into the Doctor's hip bones in response to his claim, Amy gave him a fake-confused look. "That doesn't sound like an apology."

Rory laughed, while the Doctor scrambled to put together something that sounded like speech through his laughter. "FIHIHINE OKAHAY I'M SOHOHORRY!"

Amy withdrew her fingers as Rory guided the Doctor to the floor, letting him rest his head on Rory's leg.

"I think you're more human than you think." Rory chuckled, patting the Doctor's shoulder.

"Right." The Doctor glared up at him, but there was a hint of softness behind his eyes. "Can we go now?"

#crow's tickle fic #ticklecrowber2024 #crowstickletober2024 #tickletober2024 #ticklecrowber #tickletober

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cerealmonster15 · 4 months ago

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The Trials and Tribulations of Azul Ashengrotto [Azul/Riddle]

Summary: Azul's got a thing for Riddle, but he's having a hard time expressing himself.

[Ao3 Link] [See Ao3 for more tags + notes]

[edit: book 6 spoiler warning!!!]

“If you’re going to insist on being my lab partner,” Jamil grumbled as he lightly bumped his elbow into Azul’s side, “Then at the very least, could you pay attention to our assignment?”

Azul jolted in surprise, scrambling to pick up the nearest vial of liquid and held it up to eye-level in order to look busy. “I-I’m as focused as ever, I’ll have you know! I would never let down my favorite lab partner, after all.”

“Ugh,” Jamil rolled his eyes. “And yet, you can’t seem to keep your eyes off Riddle instead of our cauldron. Again, might I add.” He reached over to pluck the vial out of Azul’s hand and promptly replaced it with the proper ingredient required for the next step. “I don’t see why you can’t simply pair up with him instead when we have these joint lessons. Save us all some trouble.”

“Now, what kind of friend would I be if I just abandoned you and our little routine like that?” Azul smirked. “I wouldn’t dream of it, so don’t you worry.”

“I don’t remember signing up for your friendship,” Jamil huffed, “but if you’re going to subject me to it either way, then the least you can do is give me some transparency.”

“Says the one who is probably the most secretive out of everyone in our entire grade,” Azul retorted. “But, I suppose if there were someone I had to choose to confide in, you would be my best choice of confidant, wouldn’t you? It’s not like I’m dying to open up to either of the twins about more… Sensitive matters.” He scrunched his nose up, be it from the sheer thought of speaking vulnerably to Jade and Floyd, or from the fumes emitted from the vial he’d finally unscrewed. “And I can’t even BEGIN to imagine going to Idia to try and talk about relationships with other, real-world humans.”

Jamil picked up the long wooden spoon and began stirring the contents of their potion as Azul poured in the next ingredient. “I know you love hearing the sound of your own voice, but please get to the point before the end of class.”

“Are you saying you don’t enjoy our leisurely chats on the walk back to the dorm mirrors together?” Azul placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. “Why, Jamil, you wound me.”

“For the love of - fine, forget I asked.” Jamil shuffled to the other side of the cauldron, away from Azul. “I get the picture pretty clear just from that pitiful look you always have on your face, anyway.”

“P-Pitiful?!” Azul sputtered, following Jamil’s retreat along the side of the cauldron. “I’ll have you know that I am locked in a battle of wits with Riddle Rosehearts, and while partnering up with him for a lab exercise may give me insight as to how he approaches his assignments, doing well in conjunction with him will NOT give me an advantage if we share the same final score!”

“So, you refuse to pair up with your crush because you want to get a better grade than him?”

“Erm…” Azul looked as though he was considering lying, but one stern glance from Jamil had him folding in an instant. “...Perhaps. Yes.”

“You’re utterly hopeless, Azul.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence.”

“I’d tell you to be yourself,” Jamil continued, a small smirk appearing on his lips, “but you actually want a chance at him liking you back, don’t you? Perhaps we’d better think of a different approach for you to follow.”

Azul sighed. “Really, I don’t know what I expected.”

Jamil snickered and picked up the ladle as Azul held out the vial for him to spoon their finished potion into. “Maybe if you tried talking to him without all your mind games, you’d have better luck.”

“Please, Jamil, asking an NRC student to hold a conversation without at least three layers of mind games is like asking a man not to breathe.”

Jamil’s only response was another, aggravated eye-roll. “Whatever. Not my problem if you insist on creating obstacles for yourself.”

Azul decided he did not need anymore of Jamil’s sass, and would be perfectly fine with figuring things out BY HIMSELF! …Not that it would stop him from continuing his lamenting and complaining to Jamil in the future, of course.

–

The S.T.Y.X. trek was a long and arduous one, and though they’d already had their fair share of bickering spats, Azul and Riddle were ultimately glad to have each other by their side as they descended the tower. For all their faults, they kept up with each other well on the battlefield.

Riddle proved time and time again to Azul that he was an endless supply of surprises that Azul wouldn’t have even dreamed up to begin with. It was truly infuriating at times, but there was something about that specific flavor of brazen absurdity that Riddle brought to the table that Azul couldn’t help but find absolutely and utterly fascinating.

And now, here they were, side-by-side, misunderstandings mostly cleared away, venturing forth and sharing their life’s aspirations together.

“So, an interest in law, you said?”

Riddle glanced at Azul as he walked beside him, and nodded. “Yes, that’s right.”

“I must say, even though you haven’t been to law school, I’d imagine you could give any lawyer a run for their money, given just 20 minutes and a law book.”

“Please, Azul. I would never cut corners like that,” Riddle huffed. “If I were to go against a lawyer in court, I would need to go through the proper schooling and certification process, first.”

“…That’s… Not what I meant,” Azul sighed and shook his head. “You managed to memorize all 810 laws of your dorm and never forget a single one, from what I’ve heard. Did you not?”

“That’s hardly anything beyond the bare minimum. As the housewarden of Heartslabyul, it is expected that I would know every rule in order to keep my dormmates in line!”

“This is exactly what I mean!” Azul exclaimed. “You’d have no trouble at all studying meticulous laws and the fine print of any contract. I’d say you’d be right at home in a courthouse. My stepfather is a lawyer too, you know. Perhaps I could help you gain some early contacts in the field and introduce you two, sometime.”

Riddle narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the smile Azul offered him. “I find it hard to believe that you would make an offer without intending to hold it over my head for something in return.”

“Please, Riddle, you wound me,” Azul sighed yet again. “But it’s as I said before: Having a friend like you with many skills and who is well-versed in the law would be ever so reassuring as we go through life together, no?”

Azul thought again of his stepfather, who was the one who taught Azul much of what he knew about reading and understanding the ins and outs of contracts. It really was fortunate that his mother managed to meet him during the divorce process to Azul’s birth father, as he was a positive addition to both Azul’s life, and his mother’s.

To think that his mother would find love and happiness from her own divorce lawyer, during such a turbulent and uncertain time in one’s life.

Azul looked over at Riddle, who looked back at him with that same, scrutinizing expression he wore for the past several minutes.

“…I wouldn’t mind having you as my divorce lawyer, one day.”

There was a beat of silence, and Riddle’s face contorted into what could only be described as a blend of emotion from someone who felt like they should be offended, but was too confused by the statement to even understand how to process it.

“Your what? Divorce lawy- Are you planning on getting divorced, Azul?!”

Azul froze, realizing not only that he’d spoken his thoughts aloud, but just how absurd those words sounded out of context. But, there was no way Azul was going to elaborate on the truth, so instead, he nodded.

“Y… Yes. In my research of business people on land, I’ve learned that quite a few of the ones that have really made a name for themselves have also gone through several divorces. It doesn’t hurt to be… Prepared.”

“…Unbelievable,” Riddle scoffed, and marched ahead once more. “What’s even the point of getting married if you don’t foresee it working out? You’ll just be wasting everyone’s time.”

Azul couldn’t help but notice just how personally offended Riddle sounded… Well, to be fair, he kind of ALWAYS sounded personally offended. But there was something about the particular tone of his voice and way he stormed off just now…

“Riddle, please stop running ahead!”

The rest of their conversation was just going to have to wait. They had a universe to save, after all.

–

Riddle’s cheeks flushed red. A different shade of red than his usual, about-to-cut-your-head-off shade of red. Sure, to the naked eye of an average observer, one may say there was no difference at all. Red was red, and Riddle was an angry boy.

But, Azul Ashengrotto was not an average observer, and especially not when the object of observation was Riddle Rosehearts’ face. It was a rare sight to see Riddle laugh, let alone so hard that his cheeks flushed so vibrantly. Azul could not help but feel a smug sense of pride that he not only got to bear witness to such a special occurrence, but was also the one who got to make Riddle laugh.

Their bond had seen rapid growth as of late - Stopping the total destruction and subsequent reset of a universe together tends to have that effect on people, after all - And Azul felt closer to Riddle than ever before. Perhaps now, in this relaxed and jovial moment shared between the two, was the time to finally make a move…

“Ah, um, Riddle…” Azul cleared his throat as his and Riddle’s snickering finally quieted down. “We’ve really been enjoying each other’s company quite a bit more these past few months, wouldn’t you say?”

“...W-well! We, um…” Riddle straightened his posture, but averted his gaze pointedly downward and off to the side. “I suppose I can’t exactly deny that statement.”

Azul’s heart hammered in his chest. It was now or never.

“What would you say to perhaps taking things a step further, then?” Azul asked, praying that he did not look nor sound as uncharacteristically nervous as he felt. “We could try dinner together? At the lounge?”

If Riddle with his flushed cheeks was cute before, he was downright adorable now. The red hue spread from his cheeks across his nose and filled up his entire face as his eyes went wide. “I- U-um! Well…”

Azul wanted so badly to reach out and pull Riddle into a tight embrace, but he remained steadfast in his willpower. He absolutely could NOT afford to jump the gun when they were taking such a crucial and sensitive transitional step in their relationship.

“I think,” Riddle continued, setting Azul’s heart aflutter, “that sounds…”

The suspense was killing him, and was only prolonged as two long shadows suddenly cast their way over both Azul and Riddle.

“Heeeey, it’s lil Goldfishie!” Floyd stepped to Azul’s left as he emerged from behind, grinning down at Riddle with a mischievous stare.

“My, I do hope we aren’t interrupting anything,” Jade said, taking his place to Azul’s right. Despite his words, he did not look concerned in the slightest.

“Actually,” Azul grumbled, “Riddle and I were in the middle of a rather important conversation.”

“By all means, continue,” Jade smiled, him and Floyd remaining firmly in place.

Riddle looked up at the twins, brows furrowed with irritation… Eyes widening in realization… A look of horror forming on his face…

Wherever Azul went, those twins were always nearby.

Always.

“Sooo, what’cha talkin’ ‘bout?” Floyd took a step closer towards Riddle. “C’mon, fill us in!”

“I…” Riddle looked at Azul, who stared back at him with silent desperation. “...I’ve got to go. Right now. Goodbye!”

“Wait - Riddle!” Azul cried out, stepping forward.

But Riddle wasted no time scampering off and FAR away from the trio.

Azul put his head in his hands and let out a weary sigh. “...Boys,” he muttered. “Next time you hear me making a delicate maneuver with Riddle - and I KNOW you heard us talking - I need you both to stay far, far away. In fact, make use of those long legs of yours and take a run in the opposite direction, while you’re at it.”

The twins exchanged a look, and turned to flash matching grins at Azul. “No promises.”

The front doors to Heartslabyul swung open with such forceful intensity that every nearby student straightened their spine and stopped what they were doing. Tension filled the room as Riddle marched his way across the floor, raising one hand with his wand and instantly changing his outfit from the standard uniform and into his dorm uniform, as was expected. He moved, wordlessly, a stern scowl plastered across his face, and no one dared approach the housewarden when he was in such a bad mood.

“Hi, hi, Riddle!”

Well, almost no one.

Riddle halted in his tracks, a startled look replacing the scowl on his face as Cater skipped over and stopped directly in front of him. “Oh, Cater. I almost didn’t see you there.”

“No kidding!” Cater slid over to Riddle’s side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, leading him out of the room and away from the prying eyes of lingering students. “I could see that scowl a mile away! Why don’t we come into the kitchen and get you some tea and a snack so you can relax and tell Cay-Cay what happened? Frowning like that for too long will ruin your cute face, y’know.”

Riddle relented, allowing Cater to forward, towards the safe haven of leftover sweets that Trey had baked the night before. Thankfully, there just so happened to be a leftover strawberry tart in the fridge, waiting for Riddle’s stomach. Somehow, Trey always ended up making just enough to serve a full party and still have a few leftovers stored away for the next day or so.

A slice of tart cut, two cups of tea poured, Riddle relaxed, Cater took a seat across from his friend and offered him a warm, inviting smile.

“So, you said that the boys in Octavinelle are giving you trouble again, huh?” He asked, picking up his tea cup and taking a sip. “What did they do this time?”

“It was mostly those twins,” Riddle sighed. “You know how they are. They hardly have to say a word, and yet they somehow know the most efficient way to drive me nuts in under 30 seconds! Azul and I have finally been getting along these days, and those two just have to come in and spoil everything!”

Cater picked up the teapot and filled Riddle’s cup as he ranted and raved about the fish boys. “Aw, c’mon, you can’t let those goofs throw you off your game! You really like Azul, don’t you?”

“I…!” Riddle froze, teacup mid lift. “I… Yes,” he sighed. There was no hiding it from Cater at this point. He’d already known for a while, by the look on his face. “I rather think that I do, but I simply cannot subject myself to a lifetime of hanging around those two just because they come alongside Azul as some sort of package!”

“Okay, sure, you probs will have to see those two more than you wanna if you get with Azul,” Cater said, offering Riddle a sympathetic smile. “But you’re not gonna let that stop you, right? I mean, the Riddle I know wouldn’t hold back just because some boys were being silly! Floyd Leech doesn’t dictate your life, does he?”

“A-Absolutely not!” Riddle huffed, standing from his chair. “Neither Floyd nor Jade get to have a say in how I do ANYTHING.”

Cater smiled. “Yeah? That’s great! So why don’t you call Azul and tell him that?”

“Yes… You’re absolutely right, Cater. I think I’ll do just that!”

Quietly watched as Riddle pulled out his phone and wasted no time doing just that. There would be no room left for hesitation, as Azul picked up within the first ring.

“Riddle?”

“Azul!” Riddle shouted into the receiver. “I’m going to go on a date with you!”

“WH-”

Cater could hear Azul’s sputtering and coughing even from where he remained seated at the table. “Riddle, hon, be gentle with him!”

“Ah, r-right.” Riddle took a deep breath, and then spoke more gently into the phone. “...I want to go out with you. I don’t want to let… Anyone… Hold me back from how I choose to live my life. And I’m choosing you! …If your offer still stands.”

“It does!” Azul answered all too quickly. “I-I mean, um… Yes. That is a reasonable decision, on your part, I'd say. We could, uh, work out the details tomorrow in the cafeteria?”

“Yes…” Riddle let out of a sigh of relief, making eye contact with Cater, who smiled and flashed him a thumbs up. “I’d like that very much.”

#twisted wonderland #azurido #ridoazu #azurid #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto #twst #cereal writes #sorry i really am just throwing this and running away as fast as i can if i look any longer im going to catch on fire BYE!!!#twst book 6 spoilers

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elenthyaolyenths · 1 year ago

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DAY 15- «On Thin Ice» Good Omens AU - Triptych Tribute, last part.

To @blairamok. Thanks for everything...!

Please, listen to this?

"Our love is..."

I, I can't get these memories out of my mind And some kind of madness has started to evolve And I, I tried so hard to let you go But some kind of madness is swallowing me whole

I have finally seen the light And I have finally realized What you mean...

And now, I need to know, is this real love Or is it just madness keeping us afloat?

And when I look back at all the crazy fights we had It's like some kind of madness was taking control

And now I have finally seen the light And I have finally realized What you need

But now I have finally seen the end And I'm not expecting you to care, no That I have finally seen the light And I have finally realized

I need to love...!

...I need to love.

Come to me just in a dream Come on and rescue me Yes, I know, I can't be wrong

And baby, you're too headstrong Our love is

...Our Love is Madness, yeah.

[Previous] [Next Day] [First Day]

Don't forget to 💕/ reblog ;-)

↓Important message below, please check the behind-the-scenes!↓

Aaaand... cut!

Hello, dear Good Omens fam ^_^

I hope you enjoyed this last fantasie of mine as much as I did. Thanks so much for reading until here. It means a lot to me. Thanks to @blairamok for blessing us with his wonderful AU! I wish you the best, dear!

I have some family duties for a few days and I'll have to travel, so I don't know if I will be able to draw/publish any Daily Challenges for a while. Maybe this is just the sign that I HAVE to go back to simple things, simple challenges, simple ideas, just like at the beginning.

That was one Hell of a journey until now. Thank you all for following me in this challenge. I am learning so much while having fun. Aaand a little bit of pressure too - because HEY ANXIOUS PERSON, that's what I am - but it's almost always a good kind of pressure.

I have drawn more in two weeks that I have ever had in 10 years. This is such a relief to be able to do it, and such a wonderful thing to share my art with you and have your feed-back. Please, please, never stop telling me what you like and what you want me to draw! l would love to read any Challenge Ideas in the tags/comments section.

As for me, I'll try to never stop drawing, ever again.

Have a wonderful day/evening, my dear GO fam.

Elenthya

Personal challenge: a simple sketch each day

Goal: forcing me to keep things simple - inking, shading, just a few sashes of colour

Improvement pursued: to get the movement, the emotion, finding how to add depth, learning how to leave things barely finished

Max time allowed: 2 hours, as usual for my Daily Challenges. or 3-4 hours because it a Tribute to - 8 hours. EIGHT. HOURS. One-shot. Yeah, I know. Time to think about my own rules. Or, no Tribute works for a while. Plus, I love their figure but Crowley face drove me mad. Ugh.

Today's theme chosen by me:

Well, the song speaks for itself, doesn't it? :-) I previously wanted to use "Glorious" because this one is my favourite above all MUSE songs - the instrumental, the voices, everything in this song transports me. But the more I was trying to use the lyrics for this artwork, the more it feels inaccurate. So... Sorry, dear "Glorious". Another time. ;-)

[Previous] [Next Day] [First Day]

Don't forget to 💕/ reblog ;-)

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snowblossomreads · 2 years ago

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Day 3: The Snowball Effect

Pairing: Eli Michaelson x StudentFem!Reader

Summary: [Y/n] goes to her professor in need of a lesson of how chemical reactions work. They opt for a more practical demonstration.

Tag(s)/Warning(s): age gap, student/professor. dubious moral, oral (male receiving) and a wild usage of the prompt (throws holy water at myself)

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: @deepperplexity I want to apologize for the way I used this prompt. 🤣It's a reflection of me as a person and I am flawed LOL. Thank you for understanding. Now lets get to the story while I go get some help 🤣🤣

MDNI

A different way to describe a chain reaction as he told [Y/n] was to imagine a snowball going down a hill and accumulating more snow as it went down before finally accumulating enough to cause an avalanche.

He explained to her that she should focus on how the snowball rolling down hill was the initiation of the reaction, followed by propagation - it accumulating more snow as it rolled down the hill becoming an avalanche at the end and finally, the termination of the reaction. When the avalanche finally comes to a stop and loses all its momentum and forward energy. That's how he said she should think about it.

After the explanation, he asked her if she had any more questions as she had stared at him with a bit of a confused twinkle in her eye. And something more.

"Dr. Michaelson-."

"Eli dear call me Eli."

"Eli I've never seen snow before. I think I might need a more practical example of this."

Who was he to not oblige his pretty little undergrad who had come to him for help?

"A practical demonstration you say? Well you're in luck," he drawled, a hungry grin on his lips as he eyed the woman sitting across from him who was shamelessly rubbing her thighs together already, excited for what was to come. "It just so happens that I was going to add one of those practical demonstrations to my syllabus. Mind helping me see how effective it is in teaching?"

She didn't even have to think about her answer as she popped up from her seat quickly and walked around the desk to his side only to find him rubbing his already freed cock that had an angry red looking head that seemed ready to burst.

When had he had time to do that?

Never mind that she was more interested in the demonstration as he had so called it as she dropped to her knees in front of him. Maybe she shouldn't have worn the skirt considering how seasonally cold the floor was. She should ask him to turn on the heat next time knowing he would probably continue to insist on her wearing something well…accessible.

Turning his chair so that he was facing her and she was facing his cock, Eli removed his hand from himself before directing the kneeling woman to wrap her hand around him firmly but not too tightly.

"That's right wrap your fingers around it and feel free to squeeze oh that's it," he hissed as her cooler digits did as he commanded causing his hips bucking up at the temperature contrast. The contrast of temperatures brought an interesting sensation that was not at all unpleasurable as his cock twitched at the feeling.

"Good girl that's right, now go ahead and move your hand up and down and keep that grip of yours," he directed in a low grunt as she did as he told her.

"Like this sir?" She asked with a tone of innocence as she began to pump the thick member with a practiced paced that he wondered if she had been practicing with any of the boys in her class.

No no, he kept her occupied enough.

"Exactly ah fuck you learn quick don't you," he praised letting out a loud sigh of pleasure to let her know how much he was enjoying the hand job.

"Now open that mouth of yours and lick all around the tip, don't forget the slit ugh fuck yes that's my girl…then I want you to fuck your mouth with my cock can you do that?"

"Yes sir," she answered with no hesitation as she bowed her head, fingers still pumping his pulsing member before she was flicking her tongue around his tip and tasting the warm velvet flesh.

She tested the waters with light kitten licks around the head and small kisses before dipping her tongue in the sensitive slit that had Eli grabbing the arms of his chair and thrusting upwards involuntarily.

"Ugh Uhhn!"

Someone was sensitive today she thought briefly but she had no qualms about that as she continued doing as he had told her. She did enjoy hearing his grunts and groans as she alternated between rubbing his slit with her thumb, smearing him arousal and licking him clean. The salty tang of him was addicting as she swallowed the liquid each time it touched the tip of her tongue and soon enough she was sucking him off with her cheeks hollowed and noisy moans leaving her.

She bobbed her head up and down on his shaft while her hands grabbed at his thighs for purchase as she took more of him down her throat with each pass of her lips. Over and over wet gags filled the room along with expletives coming from Eli who was letting her do all the work of demonstrating his practical explanation of what a snowball effect looked like.

Though she wasn't sure if they were quite there yet.

"Fuck that's it use that little greedy mouth, fuck naughty little thing," he praised as she moaned and gagged on him yet went to take more until she was burying her face in his lap at one point.

It drew out a loud elongated raspy groan from the older man as he sat upright suddenly from the shock of pleasure that filled his veins. His sudden action caused his cock to slide deeper down her throat than she was prepared for causing her to almost choke. Yet she held her composure only letting out a loud whimper as he began to lift his hips up slowly thrusting into her already stuffed mouth.

"Oh god I'm enjoying this, ugh so much fuck gonna come in that little mouth of yours," he loudly grunted as his hand found the back of her head and began to push it down in tandem with his thrusts. "Don't swallow do you fuck understand? It's essential you keep all my semen in you mouth when I come!"

"Mhmmh mhmm!" She could only hum her understanding which only caused his cock to feel like it had hardened even more in her mouth at the vibrations.

That only meant one thing, and within in a few more moments of thrusting he came with a noisy shout of her name as as his sticky salty seed began to coat the inside of her mouth.

It was so much that she was scared he might drown her with it as he had told her not to swallow and she was keen on obeying. Thankfully he must have known how much she could take as he was pushing her off his cock only to have a few spurts paint her face causing her to let out a garbled whine.

She held her mouth closed though as she watched him lean back on his chair. Hair and shirt disheveled, face red and sweat beading on his forehead from the exertion of well...having her give him a blowjob for the sake of education.

"Now come sit here," he panted out pointing at his lap. "Open your mouth and let's see if we've collected enough of our test sample."

Scrambling up from the floor, she quickly planted herself on the knee of his spread legs before opening her mouth showing the pearly liquid that she held in her mouth.

Humming in approval at the sight, Eli ran his hand up her body before giving her tit a nice firm squeeze causing her to shut her mouth and groan at his touch.

"Excellent, with that we can do the actual demonstration, all you need to do is kiss me to start the reaction, oh you like the sound of that don't you?" He teased when she let out a low whine at his direction that was accompanied by him squeezing her side causing her to make another squeak.

"After that you just need to deposit our sample into my mouth, and then I'll give it back to you, and we'll do it oh about five times should be enough to get the point across. We can redo it later if we need to try again. Now come on let's get to work."

Hand cupping the back of her head and pushing it forward without warning, Eli pressed his lips against the woman's harshly licking at the seams of it before she was opening them and letting his cum slip into his mouth.

He groaned at the taste as it was now mixed with her saliva making it even sticker as he added his own before swapping it with her again. It was a messy process and [Y/n] was sure there was a bit running down her chin but it didn't stop her from letting him spit the substance in her open and waiting mouth before she was adding more to the mess.

They did this five times as he instructed, each time the ball of saliva and cum mixing before it was back in [Y/n]'s mouth causing her to puff her cheeks as the volume of liquid had indeed increased with them swapping it back and forth.

Taking a pleased look at her, Eli swooped down and gave her one last kiss before commanding her to.

"Swallow."

She did with a barely audible 'gulp' as he watched with a devious smirk plastered on his face.

"And that's what we call a snowball effect, I think it's a great way to teach don't you think?"

"Mhmm, but I think we may need to retry it.”

"Really and why's that?"

"Well Eli I think the sample loss some of it's volume due to human error," she pointed out, though her voice took on a teasing tone as she swiped some of the cum that had landed on her cheek and proceeded to suck it off her digits. His eyes followed her movements and he let out a soft groan, shifting in his seat as he felt his cock twitch at her salacious action.

"And I want to make sure I have a concrete understanding. Can't let my professor down now can I?"

Smirking at her 'reasoning' the older man could only let out a amused laugh before his hand trailed down and squeezed her ass causing her to moan and push herself closer to him.

"Such a studious student Ms. [Y/n], well then, let's repeat the expriment and see if we can improve our sample collection technique."

A/N: I just I'm so sorry LOLOLOL. No actually I'm not 🤣I hope u guys enjoyed this unhinged mess.

#eli x reader #eli michaelson x reader #alan rickman fanfic #alan rickman character #rickmas #rickmas2023 #smut

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cantsaythetword · 2 months ago

Note

Hiii Crow !! Hope you are doing well ! ☺️ Here for the tkl asks 🫶🏻

🫂 3 - who is the tickle content creator that flusters you the most?

💘12 - if you could only tickle/be tickled on one spot forever, which would you choose?

🌙 14 - how does tickling make you feel?

💖15 - what media (tv, movie, books, etc.) do you wish included more tkls?

Have a great day ! ☀️

HIIII IM SORRY THESE ARE SO LATE !!!

(from this ask game)

🫂 3 - who is the tickle content creator that flusters you the most?

sjdhaskljhs idk if this person is ok with tags so I'm not gonna @ him or anything but right now most of finlee-sliced-ham's posts fuck me up real bad (/pos) so probably him lmao

I also love his username lmao it's so funny to me (and he seems like a super chill guy in general so ye hope he's vibin)

(honourable mentions that I know have flustered me BADLY in the past include jordanswitches, tklpinions, and ticklish-wallflower but we won't tag them either to keep it between us ;D)

💘12 - if you could only tickle/be tickled on one spot forever, which would you choose?

THIS IS HAAAAAARD ugh but I'll probably go with back cause it can be relaxing AND tkly (plus I can kinda sort of cheat and add my neck and my ribs as part of my back hehehehehehe cause where does the back really start/end)

🌙 14 - how does tickling make you feel?

Loved !!!! Above all it makes me feel so very loved!!! Connected and grounded with my closest friends, able to forget about the day-to-day stresses of my life and just have a good silly time with my best buds.

💖15 - what media (tv, movie, books, etc.) do you wish included more tkls?

ahksjhasdkl can I say all of them ? lmao

To give a proper answer, I think Merlin could TOTALLY have had like a gazillion tkl scenes in it.

Supernatural too I would kill to see some of those characters be giggling like idiots.

OH OH OH and this show called Primeval (not as well known as any of the other fandoms that I have written for) I feel like that could have had a few tkl scenes between some of the characters.

Thanks for the ask !!!! Lots of love to you !

#ask #ask game #if I mentioned you in the first question and you see this no you did not <3 #unless it makes you uncomfy in which case yes you did please let me know and I'll remove you :)

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t00thpasteface · 3 months ago

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tag game i've seen on my dash and want to do so i'm doing it

(my friends tagged their fills of this as including "whoever wants to do this" so i'm taking the invitation!)

what’s the origin of your blog title?

i've been asked this a million times, but alas, the truth is that the origin of "toothpaste face" as a handle is largely apocryphal. i'm pretty sure it was a reference to that scene in pee wee's big adventure where he brushes his teeth and goes "GRR! MAD DOG!" during the breakfast machine bit, but my brother says it was because of a topical acne medication i was using a lot back when i first made my deviantart account (the first instance of the handle) that really did look like toothpaste. maybe it was both, or some other third thing?

all i know for sure is that it was originally going to be "snail face" but there was already a dA account with that!

my header is just a line from the song "b movie" by elvis costello!

otp(s) + shipname(s):

ohhhhh so many to pick... yall already know them. oldest one i can think of that i still indulge in would probably be kumadust (mother/earthbound) or ezioleo (assassin's creed).

of course hawkahy (mash) is the most recent addition to the pile... there's also hardenshipping (pokemon) and daforge (star trek) and marcien (elder scrolls) and speeding bullet (tf2)...

my only otp to ever be canon was daverezi (homestuck) but then it got retconned x_x;;

Favorite color:

tyrian purple!!!!

Song stuck in your head:

For Someone Special by the doobie brothers. beautiful song...

Weirdest habit/trait:

i keep earplugs in my pocket all the time and wear them pretty frequently. lots of places are just too damn loud!

Hobbies:

drawing and writing are the big ones... i play some acoustic guitar, but i'm not exactly django reinhardt. i also sew; i enjoy making doll clothes and stuffed animals, plus mending and customizing clothes i've thrifted. sometimes i also design and cut stuff with adhesive or heat-transfer vinyl to make my own stickers, decals, and tshirt designs. i've dabbled in a lot of other mediums too, like whittling, felting, ceramics, collage... i've even tried a little metalwork with an arc welder, but it's tough!!

as for non-artistic hobbies, cooking is the big one. i've done some archery, but i'm out of practice. i also enjoy fishing and hunting!

If you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

i'd love to work at the houston museum of natural science full-time, i think. i've spent a lot of time volunteering there and i wish i could just live and breathe paleontology in a fun place like that. unfortunately, that requires either living in houston or commuting into houston, and i've had enough of that, to be honest.

i'd also love to work at an antarctic research station!

Something you’re good at:

besides art... i'm a pretty good shot, actually, both with a revolver and with a bolt-action rifle.

Something you hate:

ugh, i can't stand it when people repeatedly clear their throat or snort/sniffle loudly in a quiet room. please deal with the post nasal drip in silence... or just take a decongestant!!

Something you collect:

dead stuff! bones, fur, taxidermy, wet specimens, teeth, seashells, dead bugs, you name it. i've got a really eclectic little collection going! most of it is stuff i've found myself on walks or in my yard, but i've bought a few of the additions and received several as gifts, too. what i'd really like to add to it is a diaphonized bird...

Something you forget:

birthdays! i'm so bad with birthdays. i only remember them if they coincide with some other event, like my brother being born on tax day. i usually only remember the month and that's it!

What’s your love language?

quality time. i love just doing stuff with people, even grocery shopping or having a microwaved meal ^_^

Favorite movie/show:

movie: the Blues Brothers. show: Spongebob, but specifically seasons 1-3, plus the first movie.

Favorite food:

fettuccine alfredo with as much seafood as i can get on it: shrimp, crab, crawfish, scallops, lobster, whatever!

Favorite animal:

Felis catus, Architeuthis dux, Ictalurus furcatus, and Velociraptor mongoliensis!

What were you like as a child:

when i was a really little kid, i had a really bad habit of randomly darting off to chase pigeons!

but in school i was a class clown, very loud, very sociable. i was always doodling in class and at lunch, and i would fill up stacks and stacks of paper just drawing whatever my friends told me to draw.

generally, i was always looking for the next excuse to get up in front of people and make them laugh! :)

Favorite subject at school:

it's tough to say because the teachers/professors can really make or break a class regardless of my opinion on the subject matter. my favorite teachers growing up were usually art or english teachers that understood how my brain worked, but i also have fond memories of a biology teacher who kept two pet rats in the classroom.

i took a wonderful creative writing course in the senior year of my first degree that really challenged me, and that same semester, i also had a blast in my shakespeare class thanks to a hilarious professor who really made everything come alive.

this time around, i think i had the most fun learning things in that class i took on vertebrate evolution, but the breakneck pace of the curriculum was brutal; i wish i could have taken it slower and savored the material.

Least favorite subject:

anything math! i understand it, it's useful, it's good brain exercise, yadda yadda yadda... but it's just so BORING. the application of the math is very interesting; the math itself, not so much.

What’s your best character trait?

i try to always stay optimistic, and to find little reasons to be happy wherever i am. i try very hard not to doomspiral.

What’s your worst character trait?

complete and total time blindness. i'm never early for anything. i'm always 2 minutes late to work, practically on the dot. but i try to make up for it through lingering and loitering!

If you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

no student loan debt... -_-

If you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

i've always wanted to meet vincent van gogh. above all else, i love his art and i would love to pick his brain about his process. i wish i could just sit together with him on the patio of a cafe somewhere and make gesture sketches of random passersby. i'd also love to meet leonardo da vinci— now there's a guy who won't get snippy when you go off-topic! honestly, i wish i could play a couple rounds of exquisite corpse with both of them together.

☆*: .｡. o( ´ ▽ ` )o .｡.:*☆

tagging anyone who wants to do this since i'm doing it for the same reason :3

#shebbz shoutz #tag game

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adversary-to-inamorato · 1 year ago

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I LOOVE your IGBP AU tbh! :) your story was super cool, I'm so excited for the next chapter, and i love also the way your write it! I'm so into it, i was shocked when SMG4 came back in the loop!!!

Some questions :

--> will SMG4 get out of this loop?

-->How will you portray SMG34, I'm curious abt this haha, since it can be interesting to see how it is put

-->Will each "loop" be the same or be different?

-->To the Previous question, does SMG4 will somehow loose memory, or a character? Temporary or permanently?

-->How many chapters do you think this story will have? (you can skip this question I'm just curious lmao)

-->Does any characters will know abt the loop?

-->Tv hardware? Will be shown, interact with the others? Hmmm

I'm SOOO sorry for all these questions, I'm sooo curious abt your AU, LIKE İ LOVE IT, I LOVE YOUR STORY❤️

Omg omg you're my first ask hgsngsnhn I cannot keep this cool and mysterious persona (that I already heavily failed) anymore RAGHHH iM SO GLAD YOU THINK SO HERES A LIST OF RESPONSES

- Yes he will, this will be angst with a happy ending! I will add more tags and tw and cw the more I add on (I'm not evil I swear)

- How I portray them is based on their current canon personality from what I have observed so far from MAR10 Day till latest episode. BUT with a dash of psychological elements that they (unwillingly) have to face during the whole shenanigans.

(help me these two are stuck in my brain matter it's almost parasitism- but it's actually comensalism)

- the loop will be the same, but it's up to the characters to change or alter how they go through it. E.g: Same place where it all starts, but different endings when they change their actions such as SMG4 didn't make any of those Toad Legs models, the whole meme reaction thing. This is because he is aware of the mistakes he had done and trying to fix it while he still can.

- It's more of a brain-fog kind of thing. (Temporary) Memory loss is quite common with people with depression/developing depression. There will be serious topics in this fic that might be triggering so I would have to warn y'all beforehand because working on this actually made my friends worry about my mental state AHAHAHA

- I'm glad you asked! IM WORKING ON THE INBETWEEN(s) RIGHT NOW AND ALREADY HAD THE MIDDLE AND ENDING DONE. I already posted the introduction. So far 6 chapters and there may or may not be more. I've been working on this since November and it's driving me as crazy as the guy.

Oh, did I ever mention that? Hehe, forget it.

- Unfortunately, no. Mario would probably have a glimpse of what's going on but not entirely. It is about his recolours after all-- I mean guardians.

- n̵̨̛͉͚͎̯̘̮̭͓͇̪͎̘̥̖̱͖͆̽̓̇͜o̴̧̧̡̫͙̥͔̞̼̝̪̝̜͇̜͓͈͍̎̌̇̔̊͂̃̆͑̑̀͑̐́͝ͅ ̴͚̜̹̪̊̉̌̑̎͋̌̕c̷̞̘̬̟̓͂̀̚o̴̡̰̜̜̮̮̘̺̲̰̅̌͂͐́̋̋̕͝m̴̨̡̧͓̱̼̫̝̞̝͎̮̘̜̬̣͙̼͉̣͛̉̈́m̵̡̛̰͎͙̟͙̮̲̪̗͓̰̹̰̪̦͍͕͑̈́̃͂̀̈́̇̾̚ȩ̶̢̡͎̟̻̙̭̰̞̰͎̤̬͔̣͖̗̜̽͋́̆͒͂̑͗̌͛͆͂̽͘͝ͅn̷̩͇̙̳̫̬͓̓̃̾̆͂͋̃͌͆̚̚͜͝t̴͒̏̽̑̽̑̀̋̔̈̎̈́̎͊̾̆��͍͙͍̪̩̥̫̥͍̳͆̂͂

That wraps it up! AND NO PROBLEM I HAD SO MUCH FUN ANSWERING THEM! and it helps me reflect on what other kinds of stories I should do with these two goobers ( or three! I really love Mario 💓) I hope I can get the next chapter up as soon as possible, if my work doesn't give me overtime again- ugh. I'm glad you love my work! It means that the ungodly time I spent drawing (still unpublished) and writing (also unpublished) wasn't a dud!

Thank you so much for expressing your interest and curiosity, anon! You made my morning a bit less bitter and a bit more better. (Incorrect grammar but this is nsrs). I hope I could deliver up to your expectations!

I hope.

(Might do a fan-fanfiction take on the BR AU a certain artist made though, I do like the concept. But I need permission probably lol so I'll work on that.)

Thank you so much! You really made me feel worth something :DDD

#smg4 #supermarioglitchy4 #smg4 mario #smg4 smg3 #smg34 #smg34 fanfic #time loop au #I Can't Ever Be Perfect #did i ever mention how these two managed to fill up my entire photo gallery in under few months #im so ill for them its driving me insane as the guy im writing about in this #i am considering of dropping more art but guh i am insanely insecure about it

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catboygirling · 1 year ago

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🛼, 🥤, 🔪, 🪲, and 🧩!! <3

🛼 ⇢ describe your latest wip with five emojis

sigh. to my fucking sorrow I've spawned in a new one very recently, so here you go... 💞🤝💖👑💍 it's funny, because in my head I consider this a Classic Damian Trope in terms of what kind of au it is, but I don't think I've ever posted this trope before? just daydreamed about it with every single fandom I've been in? (except fire emblem I guess, but it's kinda hard to make that kind of au with it because it basically is one already...) we'll see if I actually post this one I guess!

🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

well YOU obviously bunni <5 okay actually Don't Bother Calling (I'll Call You) by FallacyFallacy is my favorite fanfic of all time. it's so good I don't even care that it's in first person, which would usually make me click off instantly. it's such a genuine exploration of being aromantic, how it feels to be perceived as allo when you aren't, it's SO SWEET it makes me want to cry every time I read it. which I do. a lot. even if you don't know shit about jughead jones it should be read by everyone 💖💖

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

bad question to ask me because I just forget shit allllll the time. hm... I guess I did do a lot of digging into appletinis relatively recently. I just needed to know about what kind of alcoholic drinks are made with apples for a totally normal reason.

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

you bastard. I can't believe you'd do this to me. fine, I guess I'll jot something down in that same wip from the emojis...

Because what else was he supposed to do? He certainly wasn’t set to inherit anything himself, being fifth in line for the throne. And compared to the younger two younger than him, Beel was the strongest fighter their kingdom had ever seen, and Belphie could weasel his way into foreign social circles like it was what he was born to do. And what Asmo was born to do was to act as a bargaining chip for the ones in his family that were actually competent and knew how to run a kingdom, and be a good little concubine to whoever would take him.

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

hmmm, I could say all the easy stuff like no paragraph breaks or ooc-ness... actually, whenever there's something too sexual that the tags don't warn for. listen, I'm sex-repulsed, but I've accepted that most people who aren't me get a little into (read: horny about) the pairings they write. whatever. I'm not here to police how people enjoy media. sometimes I even appreciate it, either for the intended reason or because it's really funny! but the least you can do is give me a warning! if I'm warned, I at least expect it. nothing fucking shatters my soul more than getting super hyped over a story only to realize it's going in a direct that will make me genuinely physically nauseous if I keep reading it. there's a reason I don't buy actual romance books anymore unless one of my friends have vetted it first. ugh. that's a really negative note to end things on. but whatever.

#kitty.txt #asks #cinnamon bunni #suggestive

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zedif-y · 2 years ago

Text

it's gonna hurt like hell (to become well)

Cross posted on AO3 (mind the tags)

(Part 2/5)

NOTE: This story is likely going to stay UNFINISHED, so read at your own risk!

---

When Skizz wakes, he doesn’t get up immediately.

He doesn’t have to, to be fair. It’s the weekend. But it’s more than sleepiness and a comfy bed keeping him there.

Skizz sighs, eyes fixed on the ceiling. His arm stings.

Another thing he doesn’t want to deal with. Ugh.

Gaze trailing the wooden grain of the ceiling, Skizz’s thoughts drift– though he doesn’t fall back asleep. He scoffs. Of course he wakes up early when he can actually sleep in. Of course.

Dried blood sticks to his arm, staining his sheets brown. He keeps them wrapped around him anyway.

He doesn’t feel very rested.

Skizz lets out a sigh. You’d think that being visited by your Guardian Angel in your dreams would, you know, at least restore your energy, but Ren doesn’t seem keen to get off his ass–

Skizz stops that thought right then and there, breathing in deep, then letting it out. Yeah, no. No. That won’t lead him anywhere good– He’s just… In a bad mood. That’s all.

His eyes drift towards his bedside table.

The envelope sits innocently next to the rest of his things, though Skizz wishes he’d just dreamt it.

He doesn’t want to think about the letter—hell, can he even call it that? The map—that Tango sent him or what it means.

And– okay. Part of him knows he’s going to follow it, if there’s any hope that, maybe…

He shakes his head.

On the other hand, the village needs him. He can’t just leave on some mission that could be some sort of trick.

His mind lingers on the familiar writing, considering. He doesn’t remember Tango’s handwriting being so neat.

A cacophony of clattering metal and pots banging comes from the kitchen, shocking him out of his thoughts. It’s followed by a string of curses, and Skizz chuckles.

Joker’s up. How long did he lie here thinking?…

He sighs. Reluctantly, he sits up, pulling the sheets aside. At least he slept some; a couple more hours would have been nice though. His body aches as he stretches the sleep away. Damn the long nights.

A sharp sting makes itself known again, and Skizz frowns, examining the cut on his arm. It’s a decent size, and man it hurts, but it’s stopped bleeding for the time being. There are scratches around it too, but he’s not worried about those.

Shrugging, he places his arm back down on the bed. He’s so used to it at this point; he’ll just slap some bandages on when he gets into the bathroom and then forget about it.

As he swings his legs over the side of the bed to stand, he grabs the map and letter to bring with him for Joker to see. Maybe he’d recognize it.

…Should he tell him who it’s from?

With his wound wrapped, Skizz heads into the living room. The smell of eggs wafts over to him, and he spots Joker at the stove. He sets the map down and heads into the kitchen.

Joker glances over his shoulder as Skizz walks in, “Morning.”

“Mornin’,” Skizz replies, leaning against the counter.

Joker nods to the bandages. “How’s your arm?”

“Still there,” Skizz retorts, making them both snicker. “All good, we’re running a little low on bandages.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem to get more. Especially for you, Mr. Cleric Man,” Joker teases.

Skizz grins and chuckles. “Yeah, yeah.”

Joker turns back to the sizzling eggs and flips them with a spatula. It’s smooth, practiced ease, and Skizz smiles as he thinks for a moment about how much he’d improved. When Skizz first moved in with him, Joker might flip the entire pan over before he could get an egg to flip all the way.

The thought sobers him, the smile fading from his face. It only reminds him of how much time has passed.

“I hope you’re hungry, ‘cause these are ready,” Joker tells him, reaching for a plate. Skizz blinks, brought back to the present.

“Ooh, yeah!” Skizz sits at the table and adds, “You know I’m always hungry for your cooking.”

“Aw, you shut up! It’s just eggs,” Joker responds, but he’s grinning as he sets a plate in front of Skizz.

They’re prepared just the way he likes it, the yolk still runny and the edges crispy. Skizz chuckles, Tango always liked them near burnt—

The thought hits him like a whip. Skizz almost groans.

Can he not catch a break? For two seconds?!

It’s only then that he realizes Joker’s looking at him weird, he’d been quiet for too long, just staring at the food. Right.

He starts to eat as Joker sits down across from him, clearing his throat, “Well, they’re delicious.”

“Thanks,” Joker squints at him, “Are you okay? Is it Ren?”

Skizz shakes his head, “No, it’s…”

He thinks about the letter again, the stupid thing glaring at him from the living room. He needs to show it to Joker, but he almost… doesn’t want to. It can’t become a problem if he just ignores it, right?

He grits his teeth. Right?

Skizz sighs.

…He knows that’s not true. Unfortunately.

“Jokes, you remember that letter I got yesterday morning?”

“Mhmm?” Joker hums, mouth full.

“I opened it last night. Didn’t wanna wake you to show it to you, but I need to when we finish breakfast,” Skizz says, then takes a sip of his drink. Mostly to hide his face.

They’d gotten good at reading each other over the years. Skizz doesn’t want to worry him too much.

“Alright,” Joker shrugs. “I’ve been kinda wondering about it anyway.”

It doesn’t take them long to finish eating, Skizz’s thoughts occupied as he scarfs down his food. He helps put away the dishes, his body on autopilot– it takes nearly slamming his face into a doorway for him to snap out of it.

“Dude,” Joker says, eyebrows raised. “Seriously, how bad is it?”

Skizz grimaces. He doesn’t reply.

Instead, he beckons Joker over to where he left his things, a hand smoothing at the wooden table.

“C’mere.”

“That’s… worrying,” Joker frowns. Skizz huffs out a small laugh, though it’s more like a scoff. Yeah, no kidding. “What is it?”

“It’s a map,” Skizz says as he grabs it and unfolds it, “but I don’t know what it’s showing. The only other thing that came with it is a note that says to follow it.”

Skizz lays the map on the table. Joker hums, looking over it.

“I’m not super familiar with anything either, but… I think I recognize this one town.” Joker taps a dot near the bottom of the map, “Heard about it somewhere. It’s a good ways north of us.”

“How far we talking?” Skizz asks, apprehension prickling at him. How far was Tango—supposedly Tango—asking him to go?

“If you make really good time, maybe a week. I’d guess more like two, though, but even that’s optimistic,” Joker answers, not looking up from the map. “Who was this from again?”

Oh, here we go.

Skizz fiddles with a string on his shirt. Joker looks up, narrowing his eyes a little, “Skizz, who is this from?”

“Uhm, it’s— it’s from Tango,” Skizz blurts out. Joker’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Tango?”

Skizz grimaces. “I was surprised too. I— we’ve had no contact since… y’know.”

“And you’re going?” Joker asks, baffled. “Skizz–”

“I’m not sure yet,” Skizz admits, looking back at the map. “I just don’t understand. Why is he making me go all the way out there? Why didn’t he leave me a letter?” His eyebrows scrunch up, frustration flaring in his chest. “I… You know me, Jokes. You know me. And you know part of me still wants to go, but– that’s stupid, isn’t it?”

He folds the map again, fighting the urge to crumple it up. “It might not even be Tango,” He says, just to try and believe it. To try and make it true. “It could be someone else. But why would they use–?” He flops down on the couch with a groan. He looks up at Joker, a quiet plea in his voice as he says, “Dude, tell me I’m being crazy.”

Joker stays silent, a frown on his lips.

“Tell me that—” Skizz swallows, “Tell me you think this isn’t legit. That it’s not worth it, and I should– I should throw it away and burn it.”

Skizz’s hands shake, “Please.”

Joker sighs. “I wish I could lie to you, Skizz,” Skizz holds his breath, "It looks legit. But at the same time, I’m not saying it’s worth it.”

But… Skizz breathes out, shaky. “I mean, if it’s legit, then—”

“He’s not giving you a reason, dude. Just ‘follow this’?” Joker cuts him off. “For all we know, it could be a trap. That you’d be walking blindly into.”

“It’s him, Jokes. At least, it says it is.” He still doesn’t want to give himself hope, but it lingers anyway, “And if it’s not him, then… surely it’s someone who knows him. But if it is really him—” Skizz clasps his hands together, stop shaking. ”Dude, I have to go. I have to. I’ll take any damn chance, you know I will.”

Joker is quiet. Skizz can practically hear the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out how to talk him out of this, worry written on his face.

Skizz sees the exact moment he gives up. His shoulders deflate, resignation in his eyes.

Then, “Yeah,” He sighs. “Yeah, I do. Unfortunately.”

Quiet falls again. Skizz starts to fidget— the silence is uncomfortable, tension hanging in the air. He knows Joker’s not mad, but frustration shows in the furrow of his brow.

“I know I can’t- I can’t stop you from going,” Joker says. “But at least think for a second. What if it is a trap, or heck, even something happens to you on the road? It’s a long trip, dude.” He shakes his head, “The village needs you. You’re the only cleric.”

“I’m not! There’s—”

“Well, yeah,” Joker grumbles, “There’s the crazy one that no one goes to and he complains constantly about it. He doesn’t count and we ignore him. You’re the only real cleric.”

Skizz pokes at the rug with his foot. Joker’s right, he knows he is, but—

He’s gotta go. Doesn’t he?

“There’s one more,” Skizz says slowly, almost reluctantly, “And I don’t wanna put this kind of pressure on her, but…”

“Your apprentice?”

He sounds disbelieving. Skizz suddenly feels defensive, twisting around, “I know she just started recently, but she’s got skill. She’s learned so much! And she’s a fighter too, so she can protect the place way the hell better than I ever have—”

“I’m not doubting Gem’s intelligence or skill,” Joker interrupts, softer this time. “And I know you’ve trained her as best you can. But she started months ago. Dude, how long did you take to become a full power cleric? Years? Half your life? There’s only so much of a skill you can learn at one time, man.”

Skizz falters, deflating. That’s– yeah, okay.

He twists his hands, “I guess you’re right,” He mutters, ignoring Joker’s huff. “But I… I feel like I need to go.”

A beat. Joker’s fingers tap against his chin, eyes narrowed in thought.

“Tell you what,” Joker says, moving to sit next to Skizz on the couch. “Go talk to her.”

Skizz blinks, “What, really?”

Joker’s lips twitch into a smile, “Really. I’m sure she’ll understand a weekend interruption for this. Ask her if she thinks she’s up to it, and if she is, then you can think more about leaving.”

Skizz studies him for a moment. Joker’s still pretty tense, but…

“Yeah,” Skizz sighs. “Thanks, homie.”

“Of course. Someone’s gotta be the smart one in this relationship,” Joker replies with a smirk.

“Wh— Relationship? Buddy, that ship has sailed long ago–” Skizz teases. Joker barks out a laugh, “And, uhm, hello? Who’s the doctor? I am not calling you smart—”

Joker grins. “And between the two of us, who touched hot oil to see if it was ready–?”

“We don’t talk about that!” Skizz sputters, then coughs, “But you did, obviously. You did that.”

“Sureee. We’ll go with that,” Joker snickers. He slaps Skizz on the thigh, grinning as he yelps, “Now go talk to your apprentice!”

- - - - -

Once Skizz gets properly dressed and ready to socialize, he heads out and makes his way to Gem’s place. It’s a cute cottage, luckily not too far from them, with a small stable next to it. Tall, light-speckled trees hang over it, creeping vines going up the side of the house. Overgrown berry bushes frame the outside, just the right amount of wild— but Skizz is pretty sure all the greenery is a style choice.

The berry bushes are smart, though, good at keeping mobs away. Brains and brawn, indeed.

Skizz steps up to the door, anxiety swirling in his stomach. Gem was going to indirectly make this decision for him, and he didn’t know if he hoped for a no or a yes.

He knocks. Barking comes from inside in response, then footsteps.

The door opens, and Skizz waves, “Hey, Gem!” Her eyes go wide, a giggle on her lips as he opens his arms for a hug, “How are ya?”

She accepts it easily, giving him a squeeze. “Hey, Skizz!” She chirps, “I’ve been doing good, how–” More barking cuts her off, and she looks over her shoulder into the house, “Hush, Winnie, it’s just Skizz!”

The dog barks a couple more times, then stops. Gem turns back to Skizz, grinning sheepishly, “Sorry about that.”

Skizz shakes his head, “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry to bother you on the weekend.”

Gem steps back, waving a hand as she replies, “It’s alright! How can I help you?” She holds the door open, “Come in! We can talk inside.”

Skizz follows her in, taking a seat on one of her couches. The living room is a cozy, warm space, beautifully decorated… Though maybe he could make do without some of the animal heads.

(Gem’s awesome, really. Gem is great. Just uh… What’s her deal with beheading things?)

Skizz tears his eyes away. Above the fireplace sits a large, heavy-looking iron sword. He doesn’t need magic to tell it’s enchanted– it shimmers as he looks at it, thrumming with power.

She sits on the other, looking at him expectantly. Ah, right.

Here goes nothing.

“I received a letter,” Skizz says cautiously, “And I might need to go somewhere. I haven’t decided yet, though. It’s a week or two just to get there, and I don’t know how long I’ll stay.” He pauses, gauging her reaction. “And if I do go, I need someone to take care of the village.”

“And I’m the candidate to fill that role?” Gem guesses.

Skizz nods. “You’re… the only other skilled healer, even if it’s only been a few months. I was wondering if you’d be willing to take my place for a bit, dude.”

A few moments pass, each second making his anxiety ratchet up like crazy–

“Okay,” Gem says, making him blink. “Yeah, yeah, I think I could do that,” She adds. “I mean, I know how to do all the day-to-day stuff, and you’ve taught me well.”

“Are you sure?” Skizz asks, honestly a little baffled. He’d thought it’d take a bit more than that— “It’ll be a lot more work, and if anyone calls on you for an emergency, you have to be prepared.”

Gem is nodding before he finishes. “I know, Skizz,” She replies, smiling. Gods bless her, “I got this! I’ve… kinda been wanting a chance to really test myself, you know? Not that I want anything to happen, just… I’m here if you need me to step up.”

Skizz chuckles. “Alright! Well, this is that chance, for sure. If you do come across anything you don’t understand, especially magic-wise, feel free to drop by and borrow some of my books. Joker will still be home, he can point you to the ones you need. You can use my office too!” He pauses, then, “Uh… don’t worry about the paperwork. I’ll get to that someday. Oh, and—”

“Skizz!” Gem laughs, putting a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I can do this.”

Skizz relaxes, laughing with her. “Thanks, Gem. This helps a lot.”

“Of course! I’ll make sure everyone here is nice and healthy, don’t worry,” Gem assures him.

Skizz smiles. She’ll make a perfect cleric.

“Okay! Yeah, I think I’m good!” Gem tells him, “I’ll go over the supplies this afternoon, so you don’t need to worry about that, either.” Skizz nods and stands, stepping towards the door.

Gem follows, waving him goodbye as she says, “Be safe out there, Skizz. And enjoy your trip!”

“Seriously dude, thanks,” Skizz says, giving her a smile as she closes the door. His heart clenches as he walks away.

Enjoy your trip.

He’d try, there was bound to be a lot of new scenery, with that long of a travel. But… Something tells him it’s not gonna be all butterflies and roses.

Something twists and writhes in his chest, anxiety bubbling in his veins. Skizz steels himself, letting out a breath.

“Of course it’s not gonna be easy,” Skizz mutters to himself, rolling his shoulders, shaking his head. “But you know what? You know what?”

He furrows his brow, “I can take it. Whatever happens, I can take it.”

I mean, come on, Skizz thinks, eyes trained forward. It’s not like I’ve lived this long and learned nothin’!

And then, quieter, it would’ve haunted me anyway, if I didn’t go. The last thing I need is another regret.

The anxiety doesn’t fade, not by a long shot. But as Skizz trudges back home, he finds it isn’t enough to stop him, worries and what-ifs be damned. A small smile tugs at his lips.

He’s always been pretty stubborn, huh?

- - - - -

Packing is a quiet affair.

Skizz doesn’t waste any time, counting his clothes and supplies, his mouth set in a line. Does he need more bandages, potions? Food?

He bites his lip. He’d packed more than enough, but just in case…

Skizz huffs. If there’s anything to thank his past for, at least it made him more careful.

And finally…

Skizz grunts as he heaves up his shield, the weight of it familiar, almost soothing. He turns to his mirror. He moves his shield this way and that, watching the light catch on the iron details, the carved wolf head, the polished ‘blood’ dripping down. His emblem.

His spell focus, a gift from his Guardian. Just in case.

He turns back to his things– a backpack of supplies, a bedroll strapped to it, and his shield. Magic hums in the air as he waves a hand over them, a thin net of light hovering over the items before they start to fade, pocketed for him to summon whenever he needs it. Skizz grins.

Magic’s awesome.

He takes a good look at himself, breathing in deep. His wings— too small, though they don’t look like it— are folded at his back, his clothing light enough for a journey, but comfortable enough for when things start to get colder up North.

(It covers up his arms, which is good, though the age-old urge to tear his sleeves off still itches at him— some habits never truly die.)

He exhales, rolling his shoulders. Okay. He’s got this.

He looks himself in the eyes, summoning all of his strength. The map appears in his hand.

“Ren,” He says, his voice low in prayer. “Angel of Winter, Protector of Hounds, lend me your guidance,” He closes his eyes, “Lend me your strength.”

He’ll need it.

The shield glows for a moment in answer.

No problem, dude!

- - - - -

As Skizz gets going, seated on his horse as he rides out of the village, he wonders if he should have left the next day so he’d have a full day to travel. It would’ve been smarter, maybe, but…

He’s itching to leave. Either to find out where this leads or so he doesn’t have time to change his mind, he’s not sure. Maybe it’s both.

Skizz sighs, stroking Gluestick’s neck. “We’ve got a long trip ahead of us, boy. I hope you’re ready.” He adjusts his hold on the reins, musing, “It’s been a while since we had an adventure, huh?”

Gluestick snorts. The clop clop of his hooves turns softer as the road becomes more of a path. Skizz reaches behind him for the map, folded in a pocket of his backpack. He’s stared at it for so long already, but still he opens it, scans it— none of it is recognizable yet, of course, but soon, soon it will be.

At least, he really hopes.

The sun hangs above him in a clear blue sky, a light breeze in his hair as he takes it in. Skizz grins— it’s a great day for traveling, lucky him.

He watches villages pass, many of which he recognizes, some he’s only heard of in passing. The hours stretch on until the bright blues of the sky soften into oranges and pinks, blending seamlessly into the dark purple night. He stops when he has to, going through the motions of eat, sleep, pack up, repeat.

It’s been a minute since he’s done this, but it’s not really the sort of thing you just forget.

Hours turn into days. Before he knows it, a week has passed since he’d left, and he’s– Skizz squints down at his map. He should be a bit over halfway there. At the rate he’s going, Joker would be right, it’d take him about two weeks.

But… Hm.

A sinking dread has followed him all day, no matter how hard he tries to get rid of it. A heavy feeling that sits on his chest, making his ribs groan under the pressure. Something is wrong, that much he’s sure– but Ren stays silent for the whole day.

He sets up camp as the stars peek through and begin to sparkle amongst the night sky, the long shadows cast by trees and branches making his skin crawl, just a little. The feeling grows tenfold, crashing into him like waves against the shore—

Skizz grimaces, tossing and turning as he wrestles himself into sleep. What the heck, man?

Eventually, his breathing evens out, his expression smoothing over as he drifts off, the evening breeze cool against his skin.

Late in the night, his emblem begins to thrum a holy white.

- - - - -

When Skizz opens his eyes, he’s met with snow.

And not the nice kind, either. It’s a howling, stinging force that prickles at his skin, a stabbing cold into his flesh. He can feel his wings behind him, and he tries to move them–

He whirls around. His wings, white and massive and strong– are frozen numb, a thick sheet of ice covering his feathers. Dread pools in his lungs.

It’s only then that he properly takes in his surroundings. He’s in the middle of a snow storm, kneeling on what looks like a small platform, smooth, cool deepslate forming a large circle all around him. It prickles at him, teetering on the edge of familiarity…

Ren appears in front of him in a coat of red. Skizz’s breath catches in his throat.

Oh. Oh no.

“No,” Skizz rasps, his wings weighing him down like lead. He knows better than to try and stand. “Not again,” His throat is tight, tears stinging at his eyes. “I can’t have lost someone already, I just left–”

A flash of light blinds him, just for a moment. The dread in his ribcage spreads into a sinking pit.

Ren’s axe appears in his hands. The cool, dark steel weighs heavy as grief, thrumming with divine energy. His eyes swirl with a deep sorrow, like the bottom of the sea, like the vastness of the abyss. His crown, his halo– it drips with blood.

Terror grips him in a vice. The last time he saw this, his entire village–

“How many?” Skizz asks, looking up at him, snow piling at his feet. “Who?” Ren lets out a sigh.

The sound reverberates throughout the land, the wind roaring in sympathy. Skizz can feel it rattling through his bones.

“One,” Ren replies, his voice echoing in his ears. Blood pools down the altar, seeping into the snow. “Someone you thought you had already lost.”

Skizz grits his teeth, “You can’t just give me that–!”

“I am sorry, Skizz,” Ren tells him. Even amidst the storm, his coat does not move. Pinpricks of ice solidify on Skizz’s cheeks.

“Just tell me who it is,” He begs, pleads. “Tell me– Is it Tango? Did he– Was I–”

Was I too late?

Ren winds his axe back to swing, ignoring Skizz’s protests. “His soul remains troubled. I beg of you, give him peace.”

“Wait–!”

Ren brings down his axe.

Skizz gasps awake. A searing pain rips him apart, a burning line from his right shoulder to the left side of his waist. A scream tears itself from his throat.

He swears he can feel the blade against his torn flesh, cleaved in half by the divine.

He expects his hands to come off bloody, his clothes soaked in crimson– but he is clean, and the pain claws at him, burning him like a thunder's strike. Skizz feels set aflame, like his skin is melting as he thrashes on the ground, writhing in agony as the wound– now a scar– glows a faint white.

Every movement is agony– his vision blurs, losing consciousness only to be jolted back awake, his throat raw and bloody. Dirt and blood cakes under his fingernails.

Through the haze, the screaming and the tears, Skizz grasps for an anchor. But there is nobody to steady him, no one to hold him– Skizz thrashes, alone as he’s ripped apart and welded back together.

He doesn’t know how long he lay there, eyes screwed shut through the pain.

It feels like years before he can really move again.

His chest heaves, a sheen of sweat on his skin. His clothes are all soaked, which is. Gross. Skizz lets out a weak groan, salty tears seeping into the grass. He needs… He needs to get up. He’s gotta.

For Tango.

Skizz grunts as he heaves himself up–

A lancinating pain makes him cry out, curling in on himself and making it worse. An ugly sob crawls up his throat, snot and spit dripping down his face as he clenches his teeth, doing his damn best to keep it together, keep it together.

He’s stronger than this, Skizz reminds himself, half-delirious with pain. He’s stronger than…

Coherent thought flits away, his head swimming as he tries to focus on breathing, each gasp of breath grating against his throat. Skizz’s shoulders hunch in, too exhausted to keep himself upright.

Years, days, hours pass. He’s not sure which.

Skizz sniffs, his eyes stinging and sore. He tries to speak, “Gosh,” He winces, clears his throat. “Bet I look real pretty right now, hah.”

It’s silent. Skizz can feel a sob working its way up his lungs, bubbling in his mouth. His expression crumples. His body, exhausted as it is, trembles like a leaf.

He wishes, more than anything, that he didn’t have to do this alone.

- - - - -

The next few days are nothing short of hell.

His travel speed is halved, his movements sluggish, his body more prone to fatigue. Skizz grits his teeth as he pushes forward, exhaustion bleeding into his very bones. And it’s not like he can just stay in some village and recover, either– he’s gone far enough that the nearest town is his actual destination.

His head swims, vision blurring for a moment before clearing again. The clarity is almost painful.

Skizz swallows his nausea, clammy hands gripping tightly on the reins. He can do this, he thinks, his thoughts muffled like he’s underwater. He can…

The world tilts.

Skizz sways and then jolts, a hand reaching out to steady himself but it’s too late–

Skizz screams.

His shoulder hits the dirt ground with a thud, searing pain shooting through him like a thunderclap. Gluestick whinnies, stopping as he writhes in pain. Black spots grow and dance across Skizz’s vision, his expression all scrunched up as his mouth opens in a wordless scream. His throat feels scratched raw.

What the hell is wrong with him?

Tears sting at his eyes like magma, a burning line down his face when he manages to sit himself upright. It’s the middle of the day, but he can’t– he can barely even stand through the pain, so he does his best to set up camp for the night, his fingers shaking and breathing ragged. He slumps against his bedroll.

Skizz shudders, eyes screwed shut and tasting bile. Gods.

He hasn’t stopped thinking of who it is he lost.

When Skizz dreams, he sees an empty, starless sky.

- - - - -

He stops pushing himself so hard, after that. He takes more breaks, even if it kills him a little that it’s slowing him down. He regains his strength over time. Little by little until he can almost move without much pain.

Skizz sucks in through his teeth as he gets off of Gluestick, his shoulder throbbing as it’s jostled. Almost.

Days pass until two weeks become nearly three. He should be near, he should be, and anticipation grows in his veins, swelling when Skizz sees the faint outline of a town over in the distance— finally.

Skizz damn near cries again. Can you even blame him?

As he gets closer, he frowns, squinting at the faint fog. He sees the outline of a handful of people, going about their day– but they seem pretty sparse for a town this large.

He slows his pace when he enters the village, hand steadier on Gluestick’s reins. There’s still so few people.

“Excuse me,” Skizz says, catching the attention of one of the townspeople, a heavily-scarred man with a cane. “Is this Frosthaven?”

The man gives him an easy smile, “Well hello there!” He greets, his voice bright, cheery. “Yes, you are within the humble town of Frosthaven, a place for the weary to rest and the rest to enjoy!” He says with a flourish. His cane, a sleek wooden thing with gold trims, shimmers a little under the light.

“I am the proprietor and proud namesake of GoodTimes and Co, Scar GoodTimes." He extends a hand. "And who might you be, new friend?"

He likes this guy already.

Skizz shakes his hand with a grin of his own, “Hey, Scar! Name’s Skizz, nice to meet’cha,” He replies, “Could you point me in the direction of the tavern? Oh, and the stables.”

Scar hums. He turns, gesturing, “If you keep going forward, you’ll find the town square. Then head left to find the tavern, the stables are right by it,” Then, he hums, “Interesting. It’s been a while since old Frosthaven saw any visitors, and now we’ve got two!”

Skizz goes tense.

“Two?”

Scar nods, “You should see him at the tavern, he only arrived a day ago,” He tells him, and before Skizz can ask any more, “Anyway, I gotta go. If you need anything, from magical items to winter gear alike— there’s my shop, right across, ol’ GoodTimes and Co.” He says with a wink. Skizz nods, smiling.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” He says, “Thanks, Scar!”

“Not a problem!” Scar chirps, before Gluestick trudges forward, hooves clip-clopping in the direction of town square. Exhaustion creeps up onto Skizz like a vine.

It doesn’t take long for him to get Gluestick settled in with the other horses, and Skizz lets out a breath as he hands over the payment, finally making his way over to the tavern.

A wooden sign hangs over his head, Bite & Brew.

Skizz sucks in a breath. Here goes nothing.

He doesn’t let himself hesitate, the wooden door creaking open…

A wide brown eye meets his own, the other covered by a patch. He freezes, his glass of mead halfway up to his lip.

Skizz’s heart leaps into his throat.

He’s different from how he used to look, but Skizz could recognize him by presence alone.

Two horns, standing proud. Short brown hair, now a bit longer, in need of a trim. The same large frame, a scar on his right eye, peeking out of his eyepatch.

No, Skizz thinks, backing up a little against the door. No, no. What?

“Impulse?” He asks, hoarse. “Dop?”

#impulsesv #skizzleman #misterjoker #geminitay #gtws << for a second but hes There . he shows up more tho dw #hermitcraft au #mcyt au #mcyt fanfic #mcytblr #to become well #ryan's writing #tagging mostly for organization purposes

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