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#the one posted earlier was supposed to follow this coloring but.......
bitternace · 2 years
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(10/10!)
Lay down your bets for the Gambler of Fate—
[ID: two digital drawings of kingdom hearts character, Luxord. the backgrounds are light blue, and the colors are faded.
in the first image, he’s shown looking to the side with a slightly satisfied smile. He half-squats, with both arms raised to chest height in a wide stance, one hand extended and the other curled somewhat on itself as if throwing something underhand. Beside his head, there are five cards of Fair Game, blurred with movement. His organization 13 coat flares a little behind him.
the second image is a close-up of his face. /End ID]
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withleeknow · 4 months
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Hello! I really love your stories. Could I be the 🥐 anon? A little reference to my country 😆. Anyway, I wanted to ask for a story for the milestone event, with Han jisung and the prompt : "so...can we go eat".
Thank you so much and have an amazing day!
of sleepy promises and indigo skies.
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note: welcome to the household 🥐 <3 i hope you enjoy your stay here and this drabble as well. hehehee. this is a short one but i enjoyed writing it ♡
main masterlist / request masterlist / ko-fi
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jisung is in the middle of counting your eyelashes when his stomach growls, sounding like a nightmare monster against the backdrop of peaceful silence in your shared bedroom.
he winces internally because it's loud enough that you stir awake, making your eyes blink confusedly at your surroundings. it was still light out when you fell asleep earlier, but now the sun is almost gone, leaving behind an indigo sky in its wake that you can see from your window.
your voice is groggy when you ask, "what time is it?"
"seven fifteen? seven thirty?" he tells you uncertainly, before reaching for his phone on the bedside table to confirm his answer. "yeah, seven thirty."
"why didn't you wake me?"
in all honesty, jisung did want to wake you. you had plans to go to dinner together - try out the new fried chicken place that opened two weeks ago, that's what you'd promised him. what was supposed to be a half an hour nap turned into two hours because he didn't have the heart to disturb you, despite the way his stomach was protesting for some food to satiate its hunger.
ultimately, he settled on watching you sleep, smiling to himself every time your lips parted as you lightly snored.
"you looked too cute while you were sleeping." jisung brushes his fingers over your hair while you clasp a hand over your mouth to cover a yawn, before stretching your limbs to wring out the day's fatigue.
"corny," you comment, though you do try to shuffle closer to him, a smile tugging at your lips when he takes you into his arms and presses a kiss to your forehead.
"you love it when i'm corny."
"unfortunately, i do."
"unfortunately?" he repeats, an edge of playful disbelief coloring his voice. "what is that supposed to mean?"
"it means you can be such a cheeseball sometimes, but you're my cheeseball and i kinda love you. i guess."
jisung gasps, like he's so offended by your words. the sound is quickly followed by a lighthearted laugh, the vibration of which you can feel where your chests are pressed together. he's endeared by you, incredibly so. maybe it's the way you said it with a sleepy look in your eyes that almost make them seem dreamy. maybe it's the way you relax completely in his arms like he's the safest place you know. or maybe, it's just the simple fact that you called him yours and that you (kinda) love him.
his warm lips find their way to theirs, meeting you in a soft kiss that has you both smiling like idiots afterward.
though, of course, the nightmare monster in his stomach just has to make another appearance and ruin the moment.
he locks onto your teasing gaze with a sheepish look of his own.
"so... can we go eat?"
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all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 29.05.2024]
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banquetwriter · 7 months
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୨୧ distant love pt: 2 ୨୧
pairing: Rick Grimes ♡︎ fem!Reader
warnings: ୭̥⋆*。 canon typical violence, Rick is low-key a cheater (not on reader tho), not beta read we die like Carl
summary: ʚ basically a filler chapter from the CDC to the prison post-Woodburyɞ
Words: 2002
An: hey babies I wrote this on my phone again 😔 also i haven’t seen the earlier seasons in a very long time so mb if it’s not exactly accurate 😔😔
Part 1 Part 3
SUPPORT ME
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You and Rick had kept your distance most of the morning. Looking at Shane’s black eye. “Dad, are you hungover? Mom said you would be.” Carl asks as Rick sits down at the table. You let yourself stifle a giggle at the kids' antics. Rick being drunk last night would explain his forward-ness.
You followed the group after breakfast as Jenner explained what exactly was happening to everyone. Why would the dead rise?
You watched as the x-ray video’s corpse re-animated. God that was scary. What was scarier was Jenner locking the doors. You covered your mouth as tears streamed down your face. “Oh my god.” you whimpered out.
You were going to die. You of course found yourself turning to Rick. Who was holding his wife and child? Your heart sinks.
Of course, he would be with them. You were a sidepiece. Why would he protect you? Care for you? He made his choice. It was one that you're going to have to be ok with. Even if you weren't going to live very long.
That's when the doors opened and Rick screamed for everyone else to get their stuff. You ran as fast as you could to escape. Avoiding the shards of glass that spilled everywhere Rick threw the explosive at the glass.
Your eyes rest on Lori and Rick as they sit in the front of the camper. You weren't sure how you could have ever found a real relationship with him. You think back to Lori’s words. Trying to push the two of you together. Your heart burned for her.
How low was she that she wanted her husband to sleep with another woman? You suppose she felt guilty for her and Shane being together. This was a different thought, wasn't it? Rick said he loved you. You weren't sure how much of that you believed.
It was you who saw the way Rick was after Otis accidentally shot Carl. It was you who hugged him, feeling his arms search for a sign that his boy was still alive. It was Rick who begged you to stay with him.
You wanted to, you really did. But that would have been inappropriate and unfair to Carl. This could very well be his last night alive. He shouldn't be confused about why you were there.
You see the color leave his face as he donates more and more blood to his son. Trying to comfort his wife but his eyes linger on your figure unfaithfully. Your curves would comfort him. Your soft skin and happy smiles. That's what he fell for.
He wished this wasn't the way it was. He wished he had met you instead of Lori. Marrying the first girl he could. I mean he did love Lori. As the mother of his children, he would always hold a place for her. She just wasn't you, was she?
You on the other hand shoved your feelings down, deeper than the Mariana trench. Trying to help keep the camp outside on Hershel's Farm going. Doing menial tasks like laundry or cooking. Offering to clean any weapons the group needed youto.
Trying to comfort Lori at every turn, silently becoming almost like a best friend to her. Holding her shoulders as if to say you're sorry for screwing her husband.
You used to help go on runs with Glenn and Maggie until you found them shaking up in the convenience store. It was cute to see young love budding, but seeing them naked was not something you were down to see again.
It made you jealous to see them so in love. You wished you and Rick could be that way. But alas, that's not what life has in store for you. Love. What a joke. A nimbly fickle thing.
You kept a good amount of distance between you and Shane. Not daring to go near him. One night you sat around the campfire with lori and carol. It had been a long day of playing catch-up with chores since Lori had been helping Carl rehabilitate.
“Alright girls, I'm off to bed,” Carol says with a tight-lipped smile. You and Lori talked a little bit about Glenn and Maggie.
“Y/n?” she asks looking up at you. Her gaunt and skinny face looks more and more malnourished these days. “Mm?” you ask, looking at her. “I-I know how he looks at you.” her voice barely above a whisper. You lick your lips, shaking your head.
“Lori, stop,” you ask her. Pleading almost. “You can't keep doing this to yourself, he loves you-” You try to keep your voice down but your heart breaks. “Y/n I'm pregnant,” she says.
For a second your world stops. The fires crackles keeping you grounded. You opened your mouth, unable to say anything. The amount of possible words dying in your throat. “I want it to be Rick’s. I need it to be Rick's,” she says, tears spilling down her face.
Your hands slip up to your face covering it. You let out a low breath. This wasn't about you. This was about her. You think over and over again trying to calm down all the raging emotions going through you.
“Does anyone else know?” you ask slowly, she must be feeling a whirlwind of things none of which you were entitled to have an opinion on. “Glenn does, I needed him to go out n get the tests,” she whispers straightening out her shirt, raising her hand up to her mouth and biting her nails.
Lori is absolutely exhausted, and you know more than ever she should be resting. You stay silent noting that neither potential fathers know she is pregnant. “I don't know what I'm going to do, Glenn has been trying to take care of me.” She gives a pitiful smile.
Her face was tear-stained, the streaks illuminated by the fire. “Well you need prenatal care no doubt.” you said scooting closer to her, grabbing her hands. “I think telling everyone will be the best course of action, when…” you said, pulling her into a hug.
“When you're ready,” you mumble against her shoulder. She thanked you with a sad smile standing up. You didn't sleep well that night. Not that you ever did now. You thought about the women in the next tent over probably also not sleeping.
You thought about the baby that was currently draining her of her energy. You thought of Carl. Recovering from a gunshot wound at such a young age, probably confused and scared most of the time.
And of course you thought of the man also sleeping in that tent. The one that seemed to consume your every thought. You thought of him always. It was a shame. You wished you were Lori sometimes. Sleeping in his arms pregnant with a baby.
You physically shake your head to rid yourself of your selfish thoughts. You were scared of Shane, scared of your feelings for Rick, and scared for Lori.
You were scared of the way your heart wanted to leap out of your chest every time Rick tried to talk to you. The way his rough hands would touch the soft skin of your arms. “Rick…” you breathe out trying to shy away from the older man.
The way he would beg you to stay close to him, his hot breath tickling your neck at his closeness. “This isn't the right time Rick.” you would whisper, eyes flicking up to see his teary ones.
Dark almost permanent circles surrounded his eyes. You pull away from his grasp and run out of the Greene’s house. You stood by Daryl's side as you read him shitty books you found on runs trying to provide him an ounce of comfort as he recovers from the bullet wound that Andrea gave him.
And be would try and provide an ounce of that comfort to you as the barn full of walkers is discovered. Taking all of your willpower not to vomit at the smell. Turning away from the group. Allowing yourself a moment, just a moment of selfish comfort.
As Rick’s arms wrap around you. Breathing in his musky scent. The sounds of the guns firing off still ring in your head. “It's ok, you're going to be ok,” Rick mumbles in your ear. His hand clasped gently in the back of your neck.
As soon as the moment is here it's gone as you see Shane’s angry face peering at the both of you from a few feet away. Your face fills with embarrassment, you rip away from his embrace instead choosing to hug Carol who was sobbing over the loss of her daughter.
You spent the next few days in a constant state of dissasostivate numbness. Unable to feel anything other than fear. Seeing Rick and Shane keep a man locked up in the barn for fear of what he could do.
Even though your group was the one keeping him held, handcuffed, and bound. As soon as he goes missing it seems to bring you out of your state as Shane comes running with a broken nose claiming that the prisoner ran away.
You ran into the house with all the women. Fearing for what was next. Trying to hide in case he came back with his group. Seeing all the panic spread through the group as the barn is set on fire. The horde of walkers attacking your slice of peace.
You barely make it out with your lives. Reconnecting with your group on the highway with everyone. Once again seeing Rick’s eyes falling on you as he hugs you with his family. You turn away from him, finding comfort in Daryl's embrace.
You watched as Rick distended into madness and anger after killing Shane. Demanding that whatever he said went. This was not the man you fell in love with. This was not the human your body craved comfort from.
Revealing how his son had to be the one to put his best friend down after he turned into a walker. Which was bizzare you never took him for type to get bit or even scratched.
That's when Rick reveals the delicate information that you all carry the virus. A crucial piece of information that sends the group into a frenzy of anger. You felt very sick. How could he keep that from you? From the group?
It only went downhill from there. Rick and Lori are always fighting as she grows more and more pregnant. The sheriff was unable to hide his anger towards her. Constantly on the run, even once you find and fortify the prison, the Governor and all of his bullshit wreaks havoc on the group.
It's been 6 months since Woodbury fell, you had a big group. Full of amazing people. A decent farm and garden. Life was decent. Judith was a beautiful baby girl.
You sighed setting your pencil down in the crease of your sketchbook. You had picked it up on a run not too long ago, at first mostly making a few sketches and doodles to entertain Carl.
Although lately, you have been trying to work through your feelings through the pages of the book. Unfortunately, most of them were about Rick. You always observed him when he was working in the fields.
You could almost see the heat radiating off of him. His t-shirt is clinging to his sweaty body. To his strong sculpted muscles. Fuck. He was so hot.
It brought you back to those nights in the quarry. His rough hands gripped your soft flesh. Back arching as you slammed into him. Tongues slipping into each other's throats.
You lick your lips slightly admiring your drawing. It was of a man who looked suspiciously like Rick. His tired haunted face and sculpted body were barely covered. “Hey.” a southern voice took you away from your explicit drawing.
You look up to see the man in your drawing staring right back at you.
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cupidlovesastro · 9 months
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𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒊𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎
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this is very different from my regular post, but i thought i’d do a post about this because i have a good understanding of this topic and i like doing it😭
the only things that your really going to need to do this is dreaming often and willpower. you don’t need to be super experienced at ANYTHING or do all these “methods” that people tell you to follow. just utilize the power of your brain !
for context, i started doing this around 13-14. i never had a bad experience with it and i very very rarely have nightmares. maybe 3 once a year, and i dream every single night. also, this is about how i did it and accomplished it !
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1. gain consciousness in your dream
instead of mindlessly dreaming like you may do at times, try to gain consciousness in your dream. by that i mean, look at your dream and really pay attention to what’s going on. what do you see, hear, taste, feel? where are you? who are you with? start to pay attention to your dreams because then, you will teach yourself how to understand and actually remember your dreams when you wake up instead of waking up and having no clue what you dreamed of. do this for about a week or so before proceeding to the next step
my experience
when i do this, usually i realize im in a dream because im somewhere ive never been before, or im with people i never see, or something is somewhere it isn’t supposed to be. so when i realize im dreaming, i often tell myself “oh im in a dream”
2. explore a little
so now that you’ve realized your dream, walk around, start thinking of what you may want to say to someone in your dream, music you want to hear, food you want to, etc
my experience
this part is one of the fun parts. you can now start to control yourself and what you do in that realm. so i’ve talked to people i know in real life in my dreams, even people i don’t know. i’ve walked around places i’ve never been as well
3. start controlling things that are already in your dream
so before we get to the part where we control our entire dream, let’s start controlling things our brain has already created. so if you see a person try to control that person to talk to you, if you see a cat try to get that cat to come to you, change the color of the room your in, etc. this will help with your control over your subconscious mind, and is a little more difficult than step 2 because instead of controlling yourself, your controlling the outside world now
my experience
this for me is a little difficult for the main reason being that you have to put a lot of focus and control in it. with step 2 it’s pretty easy to do because you already are aware of yourself in your dream, you just have to control yourself. but with this part you have to control other things, which i’ve done. get someone to talk to me, or changed rooms i was in.
4. create things and / or make things disappear
now we want to sort of form our reality. so you want to start thinking of what you want to see, touch, experience, etc. if you want to see a celebrity, then do it, or if your into manifesting, view your manifestation(s). as for the disappearing part, let’s say you see something that you dislike, try to make it disappear.
my experience
i’ve done this a lotttt but usually it’s unintentional. like i’ll thinking about how i want to see someone, and they’ll appear in my dream. but in the very few nightmares ive had, ive also had to make this disappear 😭
5. create your reality
similar to what i mentioned earlier about what you want in your reality, now you want to completely create that reality. if you want to be at the beach with your friend then create that, or if you want to see your crush/ lover then create them !
my experience
this is the funnest part ofc, and i don’t usually need to create entire realities, but i have created people and things i’ve wanted to see, hear, touch, taste, etc
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sirdindjarin · 5 months
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A Ghoul and a Vault-Dweller Walk Into a Bar
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Cooper "The Ghoul" Howard x Lucy MacLean.
TAGS: Fluff, pining, introspection lol.
WARNINGS: Swearing, alcohol consumption.
Based off of this post ! I loved the idea and couldn't get it out of my head.
AO3 link 🤠
A few days after the events of the last episode, the Ghoul and Lucy take solace in a quiet saloon, only to find their dynamic is changing.
“Ain’t this a peach,” the Ghoul muttered, taking in the New Vegas saloon. It was a postwar attempt to recreate what no one still walking had ever experienced, but it was faithful enough to send the Ghoul back to the set of a movie some two centuries earlier. He could smell the burn of the stage lights, hear the staccato of studio executives arguing, and see PAs stumbling over cables in the background. 
His bittersweet reverie ended when - what else - the Vault Dweller opened her mouth. Again. 
Bouncing on her tiptoes, her wide smile was interrupted only by her exclamation, “Wow! This place is right out of a history book. Oh, gosh, look at that!” 
Hanging from the ceiling was a myriad of materials in various stages of rust and decay. Grimy, glaring patrons grumbled as Lucy rushed past their tables to examine some memorabilia plastered to the wall. She gingerly ran her gray forefinger over the rusted farm equipment. “See these? They used to pull these behind a tractor, or a horse, and it made furrows in the ground. That made it a lot easier for them to plant things like corn, tobacco, wheat -” 
The Ghoul ignored her lesson. Let the history buff have her boring version of fun, it’d give him some peace. After the past three days, he needed it. He strode toward the far end of the bar, spurs clinking.
Lucy had been silent after the revelation with her father. Downright catatonic, almost. The following morning, still in sight of the Hollywood sign, and out of the daggum goodness of his heart (truly, he’d been a saint to even think about it) he’d offered her a hit of an upper, but she’d curled her lip in disgust. No skin off his nose, he’d thought humorously, he would just let her stew. 
Before the sun had set that next day, however, the girl abruptly flipped from traumatized silence to her usual non-stop chatter. He hadn't asked what changed. The Ghoul assumed she'd come to terms with her father being an evil sonofabitch. He expected her trauma would rear its ugly head at some point, but that was a future problem. Once she started talking again, he had again been a saint - he’d only thought about shooting her once. And that only because she had asked him a stupid question. 
You mentioned finding your family. You have kids?
Sidling up to the bar top, his ragged coat slapping gently against the stool, the Ghoul’s attention was drawn to a jukebox against the wall to his right. Colorful lights flashed, dimmed by a layer of dust; but the old machine advertised it was ready to sing. He glanced curiously at some of the songs, felt a flicker of some emotion he wouldn’t put name to, and turned away. He drummed his gloved fingers on the wooden counter, impatient to have something to smother the spark of sadness. Here, the weight of the past was literally hanging over his head.
The Ghoul had directed his focus on the other end of the bar, where the barkeep seemed to be pointedly ignoring him, when a dull scraping sound alerted him to someone sitting beside him - between him and the mocking jukebox. 
“Hi! Barkeep?” Lucy beamed and motioned between herself and the Ghoul, “Could we get a drink, please?” 
The gruff man looked more like a patron than a bartender, all heavy gait and uninterested stare, but he raised his eyebrows at Lucy. The Ghoul laughed under his breath. 
“What?” She asked in a whisper. Grimacing, she worried, “Oh… is that not how you’re supposed to do it?”
“There’s a laundry list of things you shouldn’t be doin’, Vaultie, but flaggin’ down the bartender ain’t one of ‘em.” 
Lucy straightened her posture. “You know, we have established a mutual goal and I would appreciate mutual respect. I don’t think being laughed at is-”
“Sweetheart, I ain’t laughin’ at you; quit bein’ so sensitive,” the Ghoul stated flatly. “Don’t we make quite the damned pair? A Ghoul and a Vault Dweller walk into a bar…” he trailed off with another chuckle.
Lucy relaxed her shoulders, still feeling awkward. “Oh, haha.” 
“All we got is distilled water and tequila. Which’un you want?” The bartender interrupted, though he spoke only to Lucy.
“Uh, I would like to try the tequila. I still have some water leftover and it’ll be fun to try something new.” 
The bartender sucked on his teeth, turned, and left - resenting serving a peppy Vault Dweller and outright refusing to serve the arrogant ghoul seated beside her as though it was a person.
“They don’t much like my kind here, darlin’,” the Ghoul grinned lopsidedly. He tapped his holster with his new forefinger. “I’ll have to get my drink a different way.”
Eyes wide, Lucy nearly stood on the rung of the stool as she shouted to the bartender: “Make that two glasses of tequila, please.” 
The barkeep went still for a brief moment before deciding it wasn’t worth it. He’d seen some weird shit, but if this wasn’t the strangest duo he’d ever served, he’d eat a radroach. He sent the shots sliding down the well-worn wood counter with surprising skill, and they stopped directly in front of Lucy. She nudged one of the grimy glasses toward the Ghoul, who grunted. 
In those old movies, the characters often clinked their glasses together. Excited to perform a toast in a real saloon, Lucy raised her glass toward the Ghoul. Her eyes sparkled so earnestly that the Ghoul briefly considered indulging her. Instead, he tipped the shot glass into his parched mouth, eyes closing in satisfaction.
“Ah,” he hummed. This was nothing like the chems he used to stay sane, and tequila wasn’t his favorite, but damn if it didn’t feel like the alcohol stripped off some of the layers of the past week's shit.
Upon opening his eyes, he was surprised by the mix of amusement and regret in his chest at the way the girl’s face had fallen. It was childishly funny the way he could disappoint her so easily - as though they kept the same standards of behavior - but the pleasure of her disappointment only took the Ghoul so far. 
“Go on, sweetheart,” he goaded, his voice deep and persuasive. “It ain’t top-shelf but it ain’t lizard-piss, either.” 
“I don’t know what either of those mean,” Lucy mumbled as she brought the glass to her lips; she winced as fumes burned her nostrils. Abandoning caution, she threw the clear liquid into her mouth and swallowed as the Ghoul had. The liquid stung as it slid down her throat; her mouth puckered. Fighting the urge to cough, she cleared her throat instead. Lucy refused to let the Ghoul have anything more to bully her about.
Lucy blinked away the wetness in her eyes. The Ghoul was watching her. Lucy couldn’t discern the look in his eye, but it wasn’t one she’d seen before. The Ghoul had made certain of that. 
“That was, um, so good,” she grimaced. But the warmth in her chest and stomach was pleasant. “You want another?”
The Ghoul chuckled, “If you’re buyin’.” 
***
“No, I only meant it as a compliment,” Lucy slurred, blushing furiously. She was only four shots in, but the Ghoul was starting to get concerned that she would throw up on him. Lucy wobbled on her stool. “Really, they’re nice eyes. No, ‘m okey dokey. Wow, this stuff is strong.” She held her hand out in front of her and wiggled her fingers, fascinated by the way her vision seemed to be a half-second beyond reality. 
“Must be. You,” he pointed in her face, “can’t handle your liquor.”
"Hey, it’s my first try," she steadied herself. 
“It’s gon’ be your last if you paint my boots. You look a little green, Vaultie.”
Her big brown eyes refocused on the Ghoul. “Okay, well, distract me. I know you won’t tell me anything about yourself.” 
He tensed. 
“And that’s okay. But I don't even know your name." Lucy threw him a frown, "What if I have to call for you - what am I supposed to say?” 
The Ghoul chewed at the inside of his cheek, tearing away some skin as he considered. He’d had twelve shots. She wasn’t asking anything too revealing; and she had saved his life. And maybe all her “Do Unto Others” bullshit wasn’t bullshit, but he still wasn’t about to crack open like a can of biscuits. The Ghoul gazed down into her doe eyes, then he and the tequila made a decision.
“Cooper,” he answered after safely looking away, his voice rough over the word.
Something scratched at the back of Lucy’s brain. Tipsy as she was, she knew this was important - she did not want to ruin whatever progress they seemed to have made. She nodded and replied politely, “That’s a good name. Cooper.” 
Lucy watched the rainbow of lights as they reflected off the shiny bar. She slid off the stool and leaned over the jukebox, flipping idly through the songs. 
Cooper held his thirteenth shot in his gloved hand as he stared ahead at the blank wall of the now-empty saloon. After they had collectively purchased nearly twenty shots, the bartender had lost all sense of distaste for either of them; he now sat in a chair, dozing, waiting for the Ghoul and the Vault Dweller to ask him for more. 
A gasp came from Cooper’s right. His stool groaned as he turned, and he saw Lucy grinning up at him.
“Look at this song: I Walk the Line. It’s from one of my favorite movies -” 
Cooper's stomach lurched. 
“A Man and His Dog.” Lucy selected the song. “And the main character’s real name was Cooper. Used to watch those old Westerns with - with my dad all the time. The best ones are the ones with him. With Cooper Howard, I mean. He was always the good guy. He never hurt anyone. Well, unless he absolutely had to, of course.” She began to wax poetic about ethics, and her audience of one tuned out. The gruff croon of Johnny Cash filled the otherwise silent building.
Cooper Howard debated whether or not he should tell her the truth. He didn’t know how much she knew about his life as an actor - some of her questions about his family could be answered if she knew about his widely-publicized, definitely-public-record divorce - but seeing her face when she learned that her favorite cowboy movie star was the radiation-ravaged monster sitting beside her would be hilarious.
I keep my eyes wide open all the time
I keep the ends out for the tie that binds
Well, would it be hilarious? Cooper wasn’t so certain anymore. Lucy’s disappointment in him was rapidly losing its luster. Her cowboy had fallen a height that would’ve killed anyone else - had killed almost everyone else. The good man she idolized was dead. He wouldn’t resurrect him just to kill him again in front of Lucy. 
For the second time that afternoon, she pulled him abruptly from a reverie. 
“I wonder what it was like. Everyone in these saloons… with a jukebox playing while you dance with a handsome stranger,” Lucy gazed out at the empty room. “It must’ve been incredible.”
Cooper didn’t correct her about jukeboxes and saloons. Instead, he took his thirteenth shot, allowing it to burn away what was left of his judgment. 
“Well, come on down, darlin’.” He held out his hand - the one that was one-fifth her.
Dubious, distrustful despite their fledgling partnership, Lucy’s eyes darted between his outstretched hand and his dark eyes. This man had cut off her finger less than a week before. He’d tried to sell her. 
But this wasn't a desperate game of cat and mouse, and he no longer believed she was a lying murderer. (That conversation had been a hoot. One of the few times he’d asked her a question, Cooper had wondered what possessed her to cut off Wilzig’s fuckin’ head, and, after she told him Wilzig had left her no choice, she tearfully described the sound of his spine severing and nearly vomited. The Ghoul had laughed.) She was here of her own choice. Lucy chose to follow the Ghoul - Cooper - into the Wilds and the Wasteland. She trusted him now, and he her.
“It’s alright, Vaultie. Y’know I won’t bite,” he drawled with a smirk. “Of the two’ve us, which one has bitten the other?” 
“Wh-?” Lucy started to ask, then decided better of it. Cooper had given her his name and his trust. He had been as kind as summer by Wasteland standards, and she would be damned if her manners were the poor ones. She took his hand.
As sure as night is dark and day is light
I keep you on my mind both day and night
The room was spinning, and Lucy wasn’t sure if the blame should be placed on the tequila or the Ghoul who held her so gently. This was a far cry from the lasso he’d thrown around her last week. She opened her mouth, fully intent on telling him See, the Golden Rule is golden for a reason. But when his hand slid slowly from the curve of her waist to the small of her back, she found that the words were missing. 
He guided them in a small, slow circle. Cooper’s chest was pressed up against her own, and it was though his centuries-deep layers of leather and cotton, and her pristine, thick Vault-Tec suit were non-existent. The vulnerability set his teeth on edge, but it relaxed Lucy. She let the music, the alcohol, and the Ghoul take her. Uncharacteristically shy, and somewhat nauseous, she laid her head on his shoulder. 
Cooper hummed along with Johnny Cash, letting himself feel a modicum of peace in this improbable, inexplicable bubble. He could feel Lucy’s heart beating rapidly beneath her garish suit. His own heart felt like the tattoo of a horse’s hooves. Cooper’s jaw tensed as he wondered how she’d feel to know that. He found himself hoping. 
Hope and contentment were as foreign to him as a nose and hair, now. Yet he felt the gnaw of yearning. Lucy was a reflection and a time machine. Maybe that cowboy - the one who deserved both hope and contentment - could live again. 
And happiness I've known proves that it's right
Because you're mine, I walk the line.
113 notes · View notes
angel-gidget · 3 months
Text
Gidge's Guide to Amethyst
I did one of these a while back, but with reeaallly low-quality images. These days, there’s more Amethyst stuff out there, and that’s worth an update in its own right.
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Amy’s first appearance was technically in Legion of Super-Heroes #298 which featured a “pull-out preview comic” to entice people into picking up the maxi-series. I’ve yet to get my mitts on it to confirm if it’s just sample art from the maxi-series, or has dialogue/art never seen anywhere else. Regardless, your best starting point is probably gonna be…
I. 1980’s 12-issue Maxi-Series (+ follow-up Annual)
High jump-through-portal fantasy. Fantastic creatures, creepy villains, magical royalty, intricate world building that explains some things and lets your brain fill in the gaps for others, and consistently gorgeous art. Can’t recommend enough.
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The annual shown takes place after the maxi-series and sets the stage for the ongoing series that follows.
Get it by Patron methods: Dc Universe Series Page DC’s Showcase via Amazon or Abe Books (Note: no color art for showcase, only black & white)
Get it by Peasant methods: Over here. 💎
II. 1980’s 16-issue Ongoing Series (+ follow-up Annual)
While there is a lot of fantastic stuff going on with the ongoing series, it is more of a mixed bag.
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While I am forever in love with cover of issue #11, I remember turning to page 1 and wondering what the heck happened to the inside art. It’s not bad, really. It just doesn’t meet the high bar of the covers (or earlier interiors). Looking back, I realized the art was getting less detailed well before that, but my reading was all over the place as a kid bc I’d just read whatever issues I could find.
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This here, at issue #12, is actually a good place to stop. By which I mean, the next 4 issues + special reek of grimdark edge-lord bs that doesn’t even make sense without reading Crisis on Infinite Earths. However, if you wish to proceed…
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The final issue of the ongoing is technically a cliffhanger, and the Special grants the writers the extra pages they need to finish wrapping up their whole Lords of Order & Chaos/Dr. Fate tie-in.
After this, someone in DC editorial raised their pencil and went “Hey! What if we made the Gemworld the origin for one of our Legion of Super-Heroes villains?” And thus…
Get it by Patron methods: Dc Universe Series Page DC’s Showcase via Amazon or Abe Books (Note: no color art for showcase, only black & white) (Also note: Showcase contains both Maxi and Ongoing series)
Get it by Peasant methods: Over here. ⚔️
III. 1980’s 4-issue Mini-Series
This thing is all kinds of whack, but it is gorgeous. I get the impression that when Kieth Giffen and Mindy Newell were assigned this sucker, they just read a summary of the OG series and winged it.
Probably not, since they technically wrote those final issues of the ongoing, but that’s how it feels. Despite this, it’s grown on me like a fungus, and the mind-blowing art by Esteban Moroto is, like, 98% of the reason why.
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Amethyst is always at her weirdest when Dc is trying to tie her in with the rest of the DCU. In this case, the mini is supposed to explain how a Legion of Super-Heroes villain has origins that go back to the Gemworld. Why? Idk. But if I remember correctly, it was even part of the advertising for this series.
Get it by Patron methods: … you can’t. There are no re-prints of any kind and it’s tough to track down. If ye crave this treasure, best ye look to piracy, matey.
Get it by Peasant methods: Over here. 🔮
IV. 2012’s DC Nation Amethyst Cartoon Shorts
In hindsight, these may have been made as the advent of the Sword of Sorcery series, but they really were a charming sip of water after two decades of nothin’. A cute lil’ standalone series that turns the Gemworld into a video game. Amy is then, of course, sucked into it.
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Fun fact: the producer, @briannedrouhard is on tumblr, and often posts art and further ideas she had for the series.
Watch it: Full Series is officially free on Youtube. 👸🏼
IV. 2013’s Sword of Sorcery: Amethyst
This New 52 eight-issue (9 included the ‘0’ issue, oy) series got my hopes up after all those years, but I gotta admit I was a bit disappointed by the completely new supporting cast. Apart from Amy herself, none of the original characters made it into the series.
It feels likely a completely different fantasy series with an “Amethyst” label slapped on it. That said, Aaron Lopresti’s art is beautiful, and this version of Amy—Amaya—eventually joined the New 52’s Justice League Dark and picked up a bit of a cult appreciation over there.
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That said, I’ve had some spoilers for her time on JLDark, and the storyline is just a bit… too… dark for my tastes. So I’m quite content to see her nu52 series retconed, even though I did nearly collect all 9 issues.
Get it by Patron methods: Dc Universe Series Page TPB via Amazon or B&N
Get it by Peasant methods: Over here. 💜
V. 2019’s Wonder Comics - Young Justice: Gemworld
Remember how I said Amethyst always gets weird when she collides with the greater DCU? Yeah, forget I said that. Never mind. Most brilliant combo idea since peanut butter and jelly.
No, I’m not biased not at all bc I’m a big Young Justice fan. Nope. Ok. Maybe a lil’ bit. While the continuity here is it’s own thing, there are a lot of nods to the original Gemworld in the world-building.
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Does this series fully explore the potential of all the ideas in it? Frankly, no. YJ fans complained a lot about the lack of breathing space in this series for a reason. But I’m still happy with it and happily re-reading it for the fun ideas it slaps together.
If you are reading this for the Amethyst, however, there isn’t much point in reading past issue 6, aka volume 1 of the trade. After that point, Amy stops getting much spotlight, though she remains on the team’s roster until the series’ end.
Get it by Patron methods: Dc Universe Series Page TPB via Amazon or B&N
Get it by Peasant methods: Over here. ✨
VI. 2020’s Wonder Comics - Amethyst Miniseries
The fact that both this series and the YJ one appear under the “Wonder Comics” label is a bit misleading. They do not share any continuity at all. However, the opening splash page of the first issue references multiple events from original Amethyst continuity!
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Later world-building details make it clear that this is a different version of Amy and the Gemworld, but Amy Reeder’s affection for the original series remains apparent.
Get it by Patron methods: Dc Universe Series Page TPB via Amazon or B&N
Get it by Peasant methods: Over here. 👑
VII. 2021’s Amethyst, Princess of Gemworld by Shannon & Dean Hale
This one is actually a kid-oriented graphic novel. Again, with its own continuity and world-building. I think the thing that stands out to me the most about this take is that the Hales give Amy a kid brother and make him quite relevant to the plot.
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It’s pretty stand-alone and not really marketed as a comic book per se, but it is charming and the art is quite cute.
Get it by Patron methods: Graphic novel via Amazon or B&N Get it by Peasant methods: Over here.
🏰
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In Summary:
“Original” Amethyst Continuity (by Dan Mishkin & Gary Cohn and later Kieth Giffen & Mindy Newell ) is contained in Volumes 1-3. This is made of up the Maxi-series, Ongoing, and Mini-series from the 80's.
New52 Sword of Sorcery Continuity (by Christy Marx) is completely separate and self-contained.
Wonder Comics: Young Justice continuity (by Brian Michael-Bendis) is separate and self-contained, but has many nods to original continuity in it.
Wonder Comics: Amethyst mini-series continuity (by Amy Reeder) is mostly separate and self-contained, but implies that it shares events with the Volume 1 maxi-series.
Kid-friendly properties like Brianne Drouhard’s DC Nation shorts or Shannon and Dean Hale’s graphic novel make for fun additions, though they were not marketed as though they might tie in with any comics.
49 notes · View notes
ultralightpoe · 7 months
Text
Question? - Bucky Barnes
Authors Note : I always thought this one was unfinished so I never posted it but it's gotta be released from the drafts so here it is folks.
Word Count: 5800
Warnings: mentions of murder
Requests: OPEN
Main Master list - - Midnights Event List
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(Thank you for the gif @falcvns )
x Enjoy! x
I remember
Therapists were no help to your situation, this much you were sure. 
They tried, they really did. But there was no answer to your grief. Your family were good people and there was no doubt in you that that’s what got them killed. But you were supposed to meet the same fate as them, the only thing that went wrong was the fact that you managed to escape after watching the Winter Soldier slaughter them. 
He had a moment of hesitation, one moment of pure eye contact as his hand inched for the knife that had been meant for you, and you had bolted. 
And though the therapist tried to help you with the trauma, but there was no understanding. You watched your entire family get slaughtered, and then years later their killer would be renamed a fucking hero. 
You were cursed with the memory of it all, scarred for life. 
And the rest of the world was not. 
It was your burden to bear. 
Good girl, sad boy
Big city, wrong choices
We had one thing going on
I swear that it was something
'Cause I don't remember who I was before you
Painted all my nights
He spots you the day he moves in, carrying a simple duffle bag as he tries to hide in the back of the elevator. Sam had helped him move what little belongings he had earlier in the day, and tried his best to talk to him about what little things he had in the first place.
But Bucky didn’t listen, or tried not to. Truth was he was trying his best to add more to the collection, but it was hard. There was some stuff he couldn’t shake. And there was some stuff that Sam didn’t understand, the way people looked at him. 
It was a 50/50 most of the time. Sometimes they smiled and were excited once they recognized him. Sometimes, like his last landlord, they freak out and get rid of him as fast as they can. 
His last landlord broke his lease, as fast as he could, and Bucky struggled to find another apartment. Sam and Sarah helped him, and since the landlord was breaking the lease Bucky was able to get his rent and security deposit back. Not that it mattered since he was getting paid from the government anyways. 
The elevator was beginning to fill up, an older lady with a dog on a tiny leash followed by a younger kid with his mom. He pushes himself further back into the corner, trying not to make eye contact with the mom not wanting to scare her. An older man limps in, says something flirty to the older woman before leaning against the wall. Some kid with a ragged beard wearing a colorful hoodie comes in, his eyes red and glazed, music blasting in his headphones as he nods to everyone before turning to the front. He smells of skunk as Sam would say and Bucky has to hold his breath to stop from inhaling it. His heightened senses forming a headache quickly. 
But then there was you walking in. 
Unlike the others he watches as your eyes mark everyone, then mark all exits and safety paths in sight before entering the elevator. He watches as you cross your arms, moving to press your floor before stopping and seeing it had already been pressed. 
You must know everyone in the elevator already because when the doors start closing your head snaps to take one more look, and he watches as you spot him. He immediately casts his eyes down, keeping his hands in his pockets which makes it hard to watch your reaction. But he hears you inhale before turning back to the front. 
He lifts his eyes then, only to see that you were watching him from the reflection of the doors. Clever. 
There was something familiar, what was it about you that rung through his mind. 
His heart speeding up as his eyes narrowed, through the distorted reflection he tries to recognize you. It’s right there, right there right there. If he could see your actual face then he can- 
You whirl, eyes wide and your face flushed as if you just saw a ghost right as the doors open on the third floor. It wasn’t the right floor but within a flash you are running, sprinting from the elevator and dashing for the staircase. 
He can do nothing but watch, while the others all turn to each other with odd expressions while Bucky blinks. 
It’s clear then, it wasn’t Bucky that knew you. It was the Winter Soldier. 
A color I've searched for since
But one thing after another
Lost in situations, circumstances
Miscommunications and I
Have to say
By the way
I just may like some explanations
It wasn’t him, it couldn’t be. It was just your imagination. 
The view from the elevator was distorted, and you couldn’t actually see him but the second he narrowed those eyes, you saw him. Him that stormy night, the small step and the way his hand reached for his knife, the notch in his brow before you bolted. 
You tore through the streets, hearing people yell as you bumped into them. Your breath was wasted and your body tight as you ran and ran and ran. 
The only reason you stop is because a loud honking sounds out and a hand is snatching you back with a yell right before you get plowed by a red car driving faster than light. 
“ARE YOU CRAZY LADY?!” Someone screeches, pulling your attention to the face yelling into yours. “You nearly got killed, stupid!”
“S-sorry.” You manage to mumble out, trying to figure out where you ran to. “Where am I?”
“Jesus christ, someone call 911!” He snaps, keeping a hand on your shoulder as people crowd around. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
You couldn’t concentrate, you could barely see. The Winter Soldier was back, and he was coming for you. 
You were in trouble. 
Can I ask you a question?
Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room
And every single one of your friends was
Making fun of you
But 15 seconds later they were clapping too?
Then what did you do?
“You’re being crazy.” Someone laughs, drawing Bucky’s attention from where he sat on the couch. It had been a week since he moved in and he was still on edge with the new surroundings, every sound drew his attention. The windows were still bordered up and he made sure no one could get in. 
The tv, though it was on, was kept on silent so he could keep an ear out which is what he was doing right now when he heard it. 
“I’m not being crazy.” Another voice, one thrilling enough to make his heart speed up, sounds out with a clipped tone. Defensive and hurt. “You didn’t have to walk me up, okay?”
“Oh come on. Please don’t be mad at me-”
“I’m not mad. I get it. I can’t sleep on your couch forever.” The clipped angelic voice sounds out once more. “I just….. I could have sworn that…. I’m fine.”
The sound of a door swinging open follows before both of the voices head inside and he finds himself heading closer to the door in an attempt to hear them. It’s not like he has to try hard with the super hearing, their voices catching quickly. 
“I just think you need to keep going to therapy. I know you said-”
“I am still going to therapy, okay? The only reason I called you is because the hospital wouldn’t let me be released without someone.” The voice snaps back. “Can you just go? I already feel embarrassed. So just go.”
The door opens quickly after that and Bucky finds himself peering out the peephole of his door as you lean against the door watching the other person storm off as you stay there. Once your friend is out of sight he watches as your eyes trace over all the doors in the hall, calculating and nervous, before they land on his door and you watch for a moment. 
He doesn’t know what pulls him to do it but he opens the door, pretending to be looking as if he heard a sound. 
“You hear something?” He asks, still pretending to look. He hears you inhale sharply and finally he looks up to see your eyes on his arm, tears welling up as you freeze there. “I…. um.”
What could he say? What could he say to someone he had obviously wronged but doesn’t remember it? How could he make it better?
“I’m sorry.” Good way to start. “Whatever happened I am sorry. But it’s important to know that I…. I have been cleared of-”
That snaps you out of the daze as you push back into your apartment and slam the door quickly. 
Shit. 
Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?
Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight?
When she said it was too much?
Do you wish you could still touch ...her?
It's just a question
A sound had woken you up from your dreams, pulling you from the deep sleep quickly and sending every bolt of fear through you.  There had been a loud bang, and you pulled from the princess sheets your mom had gotten you for your birthday, the face of snow white staring back at you as you leaned across Belle’s face to look out the window. 
A strike of lightning has you shrieking out, dashing from the bed in a your alien pajamas as you run across the hallway to your parents room, barging through the door to climb onto their bed and find your mother. They were normally in bed by now, but you were shocked to see that neither of them were there. 
So you jumped up at another strike of lightning, crying softly before running down the hall to see if they were in the living room where your sister often watched her cartoons. 
You didn’t think anything when you slipped in the red liquid by your brother's door, and you missed the red handprint swiped by the wall next to your sister's door. 
When you spot your moms figure on the couch you let the sobs free as you run to her side and force yourself under her arm to cuddle her. She doesn’t hug back, and this pulls another sob as you look up to see a red slash across her neck, reaching a hand up in the dim lighting to see pull at the necklace. 
Only there is no necklace and you soon realize it’s a cut across her neck, your hand coming back bloody and warm. A loud scream pulls from you as you stand up, looking around for you dad sti screaming your lungs out. 
That’s when you see him, slashing across your fathers throat quickly before turning to you, his blue eyes narrowing in on you right as you move. 
He takes one step forward, but then grunts as if in pain, like he was fighting himself as he stared at her. His hand reaches for the knife strapped to his thigh and like a bolt you dash out, the rain hitting you as you scream and run anywhere you can. 
Half-moon eyes, bad surprise
Did you realize, out of time
She was on your mind
With some meathead guy
That you saw that night
But you were on something
“Her family used to take in strays apparently, and had a safehouse filled with kids escaping Hydra. Dad was a scientist, and knew how to get all the kids out until Hydra caught them. Sent the Winter Soldier not long after.” Sam reads out as Bucky walks with him across the pads of the gym, keeping his eyes trained for the person they were here to look for. 
“Figured that much.” He sighs out, remembering the way you looked at him. “What are the chances I end up across the hall from her?” 
“Not high. Fate or something.” Sam sighs, closing the phone before he spots the figure. “What are you planning on doing?”
“I can’t lose another place to live, and I doubt she can either. If she’s scared there is a reason so I have to find a way to fix it. Which would be better if I knew what I did.” Before Sam could ask anything else they are upon their target, giving him hard eyes. 
“Captain Black America.” The man grunts, a smug smirk playing at his lips as he lifts more weights. “How ya doing?”
“Cut the crap.” Bucky snaps, clenching his fists. “We have some questions.”
It was one drink after another
Caught in politics and gender-roles
And you're not sure and I don't know
Got swept away in the gray
I just may like to have a conversation
You didn’t know what to do, you were stuck. 
Breaking the lease would screw you over, you couldn’t hide at your friends places forever and you couldn’t stay in your apartment forever.  The Winter Soldier lived across the hall from you. The man that slaughtered your family lived across from you. The only correct solution you could come to? Getting black out drunk.
Somehow you ended up in your apartment building,  blinking at the elevator buttons as you lean your head against the wall in an attempt to stabilize yourself. 
“Now what are you doing out so late missy? Work keep you again?” The voice of Mrs. Day sounds out, a small touch on your shoulder as she and another figure enter the elevator. You couldn’t concentrate on either of them. 
“I…. wenf ou…. The bwar… bwar… ber.. I went-tt to the b-” At some point you give up, eyebrows pinching together as you point to the buttons on the elevator. You miss your button, sliding down the wall. 
A hand shoots out to catch you before you hit too hard, making sure you land softly before pressing the level you needed. 
“Oh dear, back in my day girls never went to the bar.” 
“Screw you Mrs. Day.” You blurt quickly before you realize what you said and your hand slaps over your mouth. A deep chuckle sounds out as you shake your head. “No. I didn’t say that.”
“She didn’t.” Someone mumbles. “It was someone else.”
“It was someone else.” You agree. 
The elevator dings and the old woman scurries off as you close your eyes and lean against the wall. “I’m gonna sleep here.” 
“You okay?”
“I’m gonna sleep here. This is where I sleep now.” You slur out, waving your hand around with your eyes still closed as the elevator closes again and you lay back down. You actually manage to haze out a bit before a ding sounds out again and someone puts their hands under your shoulders and lifts you easily. 
“I live on the 5th- go to bed.” 
“Okay. I gotcha.” The voice huffs out a laugh, carrying you easily before they get to a familiar door. “You gotta key?” 
“Nooooo.” You giggle, opening your eyes a little wider. “It’s unlocked.”
“No, it isn’t. You sure you don’t have a key?” 
“No key. Call me if you need let in and I’ll be there, okay?” You mumble, pulling out your phone and lifting it to your ear. “I’m on my way to unlock the-”
But before you can finish your sentence a wave of nausea hits you, you lurch forward quickly and hit your forehead on the door harshly, sliding down the wall and onto the floor below. 
“Okay. Okay. Take it easy.” The deep voice hums out, and you are lifted once more before they walk across the hall and unlock their own door easily. 
You are wrapped with the deep scent of a calming earthen scent, with a bit of a licorice scent that makes you giggle out. “Licorishhhhh.”
“I’m gonna set you down on the couch, okay?” 
“I love licorice. Just so you know.” You continue before being set down, without question you curl up on the couch in a small ball. 
“There is a glass of water by you and a trash can. But the bathroom is down the hall. Okay?”
“Is it raining?”
“Yeah, just started.”
“I don’t like when it rains.” You whisper out, a blanket put over you gently before you pass out fully. 
Can I ask you a question?
Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room
And every single one of your friends was
Making fun of you
But 15 seconds later they were clapping too?
Bucky was torn between hiding out in his room until he heard you wake up and run, but the other half of him wanted to keep camped out in the main window area to make sure you were okay. From the spot you had passed out on the couch it was the perfect vantage point for any sniper, even with the newspaper he had. 
So, after hours of deliberation, he ended up on the floor by the windows, facing you as he slept on the floor.  The surprise came when he himself passed out, on the floor by the windows. 
He slept without a single nightmare, the image of your drunken smile keeping him sated. 
He only wakes up when the sound of feet padding across the floor sounds out, sitting up quickly right as he hears your body crash onto the bathroom floor before you retch into the toilet. A grimace pulling at his face as he tries to zone it out before shuffling around and standing to trudge to the kitchen. 
He starts a pot of coffee, grabbing a couple eggs from the fridge and shuffling to the stove. Making as much noise as he can when you come waddling out, your head twisting around the corner with wide eyes as he turns to attempt a smile. 
Your face falls slack and you turn quickly. 
“Wait! Wait. Just take a second.” He rushes, holding out both his hands as you dash to grab something to hold over your head. “Please don’t throw that.”
“I’ll scream! If you’re here to kill me I’ll scream!” You rush out, stepping back, tripping over the blanket that he had thrown over you last night and nearly falling back. 
“I could have killed you last night and I didn-” He stops short as he realizes that is a terrible point to make. “Okay. Hold on, wait. Just- I can make you eggs and or coffee. Or both, you don’t have to choose. You can have both. Anything you want.”
“Why am I here?!”
“You.. you were drunk and didn’t have a key okay?”
“It’s under my door mat- WHY AM I TELLING YOU THAT?!” You blanch, stepping back again. “What is this thing? It’s weird.”
“It’s an old radio….. I stole it.”
“You stole it?”
“I stole it.”
“From where?” 
“The….. my exhibit at the…. It was mine so technically I didn’t steal it and just took it back. It’s fair.” He can’t fight the heat filling his body as you take a look around, mouth falling open as you finally take everything in. “My sister gave it to me for my birthday the year before…”
“My sister got me a radio once.” You mumble. “Well it was this princess cd player thing that played the soundtracks of princess movies. I wore down the mulan cd so much that my dad pretended to sit on it and break it because he couldn’t handle hearing the skip in the songs anymore.”
“Was your sister here the other day?”
“What? No.” You huff and he feels his chest loosen up a little bit when you seem to relax. “My sister is gone. My whole family is…..”
And just like that he watches your eyes harden again, your spine tensing as you glare. “So I got drunk and you brought me here.”
“Yes.”
“And you slept in the same room?” 
“That’s where I always sleep. It’s… the best spot to hide from snipers and it’s in the corner so no one can sneak up on me.” He answers. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t choke on your puke too. Do you want eggs?”
Then what did you do?
Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?
Did you wish you put up more of a fight
When she said it was too much?
Do you wish you could still touch ...her?
It's just a question
If someone had told the seven year old you that you would be sitting across from the Winter Soldier on his dining room floor eating scrambled eggs and chugging straight coffee as you both played a round of 20 questions.  
“I’m sorry, who drinks straight coffee? No sugar or milk or- this is bad.”
“You want to waste your question on that? You sure?” He asks, leaning to pour you more coffee. 
“No! No. I…. why did you steal the radio back?”
“Because it was the last thing my sister gave me. And I just found out she died in a nursing home…. alone .” He shrugs, scratching at his forehead. “And…. it’s mine. They are displaying my stuff in a museum.”
“Must feel a little weird.” You nod. “They are actually displaying a gun you used in the smithsonian, the JFK shooting.”
“That’s not me. Well it is but….”
“Can I ask…. about…… “ You want to ask, so desperately, but you don’t want to piss him off. Not to mention that you hated when people asked you about your past. 
“I don’t really want to…. “ He mumbles. “But I think that you must have questions and I do owe you answers.”
“Do you remember everything?”
“No. Not at all. Which might sound cowardly when I say I’m thankful for that. They kept me in their trance.” He answers, moving to give you more eggs before you shake your head. “I…uhm - well when I moved in and you recognized me I searched you up. The person who… for lack of better term the person who used me for the task, well I got them arrested when I got out. He was the 4th person on my list.”
“Have….” You go to ask another question about his years as the soldier before you see the look in his eyes, the nervous energy leeching off of him. So you switch, giving him a break. “You ever been to rome?”
“No. Have you?” He asks back, a look of relief on his face. 
“No. But I always wanted to. There is this exhibit at the museum wh- shit. I gotta go.”  You realize, moving to snatch your purse. “Oh my god I have work. I’m sorry for leaving a mess. Thank you for….”
You stop short, realizing you are thanking the man that killed your family, blinking slowly as a wave of guilt washes over you. What would they say? They would be so disappointed in you. 
“I have to go.” He doesn’t say anything as you dash out. 
Does it feel like everything's just like second-best after that
Meteor strike?
And what's that, that I heard, that you're still with her
That's nice, I'm sure that's what's suitable
And right
But tonight..
The building you work in looked more like a morgue in Bucky’s humble opinion, but he tried to get that image out of his head as he walked through the front door. 
He didn’t know why he was here, but for some reason he was drawn to you, and he just wanted to be near you. The game of questions you had played this morning had been…. Fun. He learned a lot about you. He now knows your favorite color, dream vacation destination spot, your weird dreams about the titanic. 
“Good morning, do you have your badge?” The front desk asks, smiling at him. 
“Oh… uh no. Sorry.  I don’t work here.” He blushes, coming up to the desk. “My friend does.”
That was a blatant lie, he was sure you would not consider him a friend but he was gonna give it a shot. But a moment of fear passes through him that she might recognize the lie. 
“No problem. Can I see you I.D. and the name of the person you’re here to see?” She hums out and he nods, pulling out his I.D. and muttering your name. 
“Oh! You are here for her! She is the best. The only one that wishes me good morning and actually shows me her badge.” The girl gushes, moving to the phone and dialing an extension. “Hey this is Maya from the front desk. You have a visitor here… yes…. James Barnes?”
Her eyes widen for a second and she turns back to Bucky. “She doesn’t recognize the name-”
“Try Bucky Barnes.”
“Okay, Bucky Barnes.” She smiles through the phone and then nods before hanging up. “She will be down in one moment.”
“Great. Thanks.”  He attempts an easy smile even though his stomach is in waves, trying to even out his jacket as he waits for you to come down. His chest clenched in a panic as he tries to calm himself down, taking a deep breath and keeping his metal hand in his pocket so the receptionist doesn’t see it from where she is still staring at him from her desk. 
“How long have you worked here?” He asks after a moment, trying to release some of the awkward tension in the room. 
“Three years. I was a temp for the first couple months but now I am full time.” She explains, fixing her hair nervously. “So are you two dating? Because, not to be weird or anything, you two would be so cute.”
“Oh, no we just live in the same-”
“And she is just so nice. And you seem nice too so-” Before she can keep going in you appear from the elevators with wide eyes, your badge swinging from side to side as you march towards him. 
“Hi Maya.” You mumble out at the last second, shooting her a quick smile which makes the girl beam. Before she can say her reply you are turning back to him with those same wide eyes and snatching his elbow to lead him outside. 
“Are you crazy? Do you know how many pr people are in this building and will send a bunch of paps after you.” You snap, blinking up at him as he tries to come up with a decent reason as to why he is here. 
“I… okay well I figured you would need to leave for lunch so I came to get lunch with you.”
“If you forget about the fact that it involved a little bit of stalking then that would be nice.” You huff, shaking your head from side to side before shrugging. “I get to pick.”
“You know the area best.”
“I get to ask questions.”
“Sure. “ He answers, though he begins to get nervous, his mouth going dry. If you kept looking at him with those eyes he would answer anything, no matter what. 
“Awesome, starting with the big questions.” You smile, leading him down the sidewalk as he clears his throat to try and remain cool. “How long does it take you to clean the arm?”
Relief washes through him as he follows your lead down the street, smiling a bit. 
Can I ask you a question?
Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room
And every single one of your friends was
Making fun of you
But fifteen seconds later they were clapping too?
You had no clue what you were doing, guilt and shame coated your every move as you walked with Bucky through the market, watching a mix of people turn to glare or smile at him. 
It was weird, weeks ago you would have been one to glare, hell you had glared at him through your tv hundreds of times. And here you were, walking beside him like you were the closest friends in the world as he searched for plums. 
Your days were spent questioning each other, all light stuff when the sun was out. If you were born in any other century what would it be? Do you think you’re more of a sunshine or moonlight person? 
Then when the sun goes down the questions turn deep. You learned about his memories as the Winter Soldier, you came clean about that night in your memories. 
You were betraying your family, by falling for this man you were betraying your family. It was the one thing that had been bothering you for the past 3 weeks. 
Like right now, when the biggest urge you were fighting was to grab his hand and hold onto it as you both moved to avoid bumping into people, your palm sweating as he sent a quick look your way to make sure you’re okay before moving to a stall that had plums. 
“Are you okay today?” He asks, feeling around for the perfect plum as you pick up the jars of honey not too far off. 
“Yeah. I’m fine.” You lie, setting the jar down and moving towards him to avoid talking to the worker, your hand catching on his lower back before you snatch it back. “How many plums do you need?”
“I. Like. Plums.” He scoffs. “Would you rather be a bee or a flower?”
“Flower, 100 percent.”
“That was….. A really quick answer.” He smiles, paying the stall worker before, leading you both away. “I would want to be a bee.”
“You would be a bitch of a bee. You would not last a day as a bee.” 
“I’m sorry?!” 
“Not a day.” You laugh, throwing the bag you had been carrying around over your shoulder as he looks a little closer at you. 
“You want to tell me what’s been bothering you?”
“You ever feel guilty… for like you family?” You blurt, eyes welling up. “Like you’re disappointing them?”
“Because you’re friends with me?” He asks, his voice tight. 
“Are we friends?” You blurt, it’s not meant to come out that way, but it’s the first time you’ve heard him reference you both as friends. But the second his face falls you realize your mistake. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like- wait.”
“It’s fine. I’ve got it.” He snaps out, keeping his eyes away from you. “I’ll see you later.”
“Wait. No. Okay just give me a chance to explain here.” You rush out, trying to stop him from walking away. “This has been a big adjustment, weeks ago I hated you. Okay? You killed my family so I’m sorry that this was-”
Someone bumps up into him from behind, and you have to take a step back to avoid hitting him, his eyes narrow at the movement as you blink at him. His lips curl as his head tilts, and he blinks. 
“I… I remember you.” He whispers, hands clenching. “You were wearing alien pajamas.”
“You remember?” 
“I…” And it was a remake of that night, you both staring at each other with his eyes narrowed and you getting ready to bolt. He looked green. 
And then he bolts, dashing from you so quickly you barely have time to blink. 
Then what did you do?
Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?
Did you wish you put up more of a fight?
When she said it was too much?
Do you wish you could still touch ...her?
It's just a question
He couldn’t breathe, something was bursting in his chest and it was painful, so fucking painful. 
He knew you, that hatred and fear in your eyes brought everything back. The night, when you were just a child and he had….. He had… He was going to pass out. 
His door slammed into the wall so hard it left a dent in the plaster before he slammed it shut again and dashed to his room to snatch his duffel. He needed to go, he needed to leave. Find somewhere else to be, anywhere away from you.  
He was a monster. 
He hears the door swing open, your footsteps following and you come into view soon after, your eyes wide as he continues packing. 
“Bucky. I’m sorry.” He breathes out, snatching a shirt before you come into view and snatching the shirt before it can hit the duffle bag. “Please, just give me a chance. Buck, I am sorry.”
“No. I’m sorry.” He grounds out, moving to grab something else. “I’m sorry.”
“Buck.” You try again, moving to grab his shoulders to stop him. 
“Don’t. Please don’t.” 
“Bucky, come on.” You snap, wrapping your arms around him to get him to stop. “Please don’t. Can we just talk about this. We can figure this out.” 
“I…. I can’t.”
“20 questions. Let’s play 20 questions.” You rush out. 
“No, let’s not. No more questions. We’re done here.” 
“No we’re not.” You snap out, wrapping your legs around his like a koala so he would stop trying to run away. “Would you rather be a tie or a bra?”
“I’m sorry?” “A bear or a tiger?”
“That is terrible. A bra, and a bear.” He huffs, trying not to look at you. 
“20 questions. You can’t leave now that we’ve started the game.” You mumble, staring up at him with wide eyes. 
“That’s the dumbest thing I have ever hear-” He stops when you lean up to press your lips to his softly, your eyes closing as his entire body tenses for a moment before completely melting into it, his hands moving to thread through your hair. 
You moan when he deepens the kiss and his heart just about stops before he tears away. “I never thought….”
“Neither did I.”
You play 20 questions every night, sitting together on your shared living room floor, with whatever show he wanted to catch up on playing in the background. 
He plays with your hair from where your head lays on his chest, humming softly. 
“Would you rather be a plum or a grape?” You whisper, fingers tracing a pattern on his pajama pants. 
“Plum.” He answers quickly, tugging your ear which makes you gasp. 
“I was so close to falling asleep.” You groan, slapping his hand away. “You are such a pain in my ass.” 
“But you love me.”
“That I do.” You hum, moving to sit up. “Your question.”
“Would you….. Will you….” He clears his throat, sitting up straight as you give him a weird look. “Will you marry me?”
108 notes · View notes
quillpokebiology · 7 days
Note
As an artist how do you make pokemon crossbreeds? since I am thinking about making some.
Thanks for asking! I'd love an excuse to talk about the process.
1. I find the pokemon I want to make a crossbreed of. I have a full Google docs list to keep track of names and ones I want to do and all of that, since a lot of the fun for me I'd coming up with names for them
2. 99% of the time, the art is traced. I used to draw earlier crossbreeds freely, but they were supposed to be quick design practice and I would end up spending too long on them, so I started tracing them
3. I love crossbreed art, and while I don't want to throw anyone under the bus, I always felt like a lot of the crossbreeds felt "too-fusion like." What I try my best to do is find small traits to fit in with the existing design, while not changing it too much. While I sometimes let go of that for the sake of fun (when I made the slurpuff and raochu crossbreed), I usually keep that ruleset. An example would be this Cadenza Lapras (primarina father)
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Lapras already has spikes, so to make it look more like Primarina, I made them sharper, like the spikes on Primarina's tail. It also has a more pointed snout, like Primarina.
And this sprinting scorbunny too (yamper father). While a dog and rabbit aren't that similar, both yamper and scorbunny have the same yellow, pointed ears, eyes, and other similar features. So, I made the scorbunny's fluff connect like yamper, gave it the paw markings of yamper, turned its tail into that of yamper, and made it stick its tongue out like yamper.
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I recommend keeping the color scheme similar, but that can be difficult when they have wildly different color schemes. What I try to do then to make up for it is add more traits of the father pokemon, so whole it looks similar at first glance, you can tell it's different. I did that with Clanging Noivern (jangmo-o father)
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If the pokemon seems too different, they finding smaller traits to use. Right now, I'm making a Gastrodon with a Phantump father and they seemed hard, but I was able to find similar traits; such as the wisps in the designs and making their shell look like a tree a bit.
4. Other than that, process follows art stuff. Sketch over the official art to add differing traits, and then outline it in black. My outlines are messy since again, these are more breaks for my other art (I have an Instagram where I post some of my art btw, I don't post much art on my main tumblr), but outline whatever way you want
5. Do what you want! These are just the rules I follow that I made for myself! These are just supposed to be fun stuff and shouldn't be polices
6. Send me the crossbreeds. I want to see them
7. Hope these helped! I'm not the best at explaining my art process
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therethatstar · 1 month
Text
pondphuwin au in which phuwin has a lot of feelings for pond , doesn’t know how to deal with them and kind of goes about it in all the wrong ways.
this is also my attempt to write a cute little pondphuwin au and instead it’s a big mess of angst and like …. how did we get here. who knows.
here is an unedited snippet and there are more that i will officially post on ao3…. whenever it’s ready lol
The first time Phuwin met Pond, he felt his breath knocked out of his chest, a little starstruck, a little bit like he was tipping over into an inevitable void, a little bit like the stars and the universe came crashing down. Perhaps, it wasn’t as dramatic but it had felt like it. Like he was made of a night sky and someone had reached out and plucked the star right out of his chest, leaving a trail of something so indestructible, staining his body of flesh with its permanent residue.
And the first time Pond smiled at Phuwin, something within Phuwin had become irreversible, like his soul has been anchored from the chaos of the universe, and if someone were to follow the string of his heart to its counterpoint, it’ll land right where the muscle is beating, vibrating, resonating in Pond’s chest. Pond and the way he was gleaming at Phuwin with thousand beacons of light as if he had stolen all of the stars in the constellation until he had them glittering in his eyes.
And the first time he held Pond’s hand, he just remembered the way it had kept aching, the way it had craved to reach and reach just to feel Pond’s burning skin against his own again. And again. As if there was an equation that had made sense to him from the very beginning, something that he had formulated in his head, the way he got two hands, four if he added them up with Pond’s, one to hold onto each other and the other to hold on for the ride. And it has always been like this, in every single momentous moment of his life, there was always Pond’s hand that had held onto him along each step, hand that had kept him grounded since the moment this all started.
And it’s always been like this. Pond and Phuwin. Phuwin and Pond. Two peas in a pod of some sort. Two souls that are so tangible, like even the universe wouldn’t be able to tell where one begins and the other one ends.
And things have always been like this. Just the two of them. Until it isn’t anymore. Until they have grown older. Until they meet other people. And humans are humans and greed is a part of the human’s nature, something that stitched deep in our instinctive behaviors, genetically hard-wired since birth. And Phuwin is made of many things. Perhaps, greed is one of them.
The city light flickering outside of their hotel window as they wash a colorful glow on Pond’s cheekbones, softening the sharp edge into something smoother, like tender loving. The light was always such a gentle embrace against Pond, and Phuwin can’t help but to be envious towards something inanimate. Pond looks impossibly more delicate like this, and Phuwin tries to keep his constant staring at its bare minimum. Keep himself from drowning in his own thoughts.
“You’re okay?” Pond asks him from where he’s lying on the bed, beside him. “You look like you’re thinking up a storm.”
Phuwin wants to laugh at the irony of that statement. Because it has always been Pond who is always thinking up a storm in his head, making up every possible scenario that might never even happen. Maybe certain habits of Pond’s are rubbing off on him, Phuwin supposes it’s very likely considering the amount of time they have been spending together.
He keeps thinking back to the conversation he has overheard earlier, something about Pond being seen with another girl from the company. Phunwin had seen the photos floating around on twitter, had felt the itch to ask Pond but it felt too intriguing. Like he’s stepping over some kind of boundaries that he’s not supposed to. Like there are things that Pond and him talk about and there are things that are off limits. And this feels like it’s one of the latter.
So instead, Phuwin just says, “nothing. Just nervous for the fanmeet tomorrow, I guess.”
Pond laughs, “that’s unlike you. You don’t get nervous.”
“Of course I do,” Phuwin frowns, tone a little more harsh than he had intended, “I just don’t show it. Doesn’t mean I don’t get nervous. ”
“You don’t really show anything.”
There’s a shift between them. For a while now. As if all they have been doing is tiptoeing around each other. Like they’re stuck in a volcano of unspoken words that is just waiting to erupt. Destroying both of them until they’re drained out of blood, ashes amidst the casualties from the explosion.
The words float heavy between them and shake the stillness with a dynamic tension, a fist crawling up his throat that makes it hard for oxygen to reach his lungs and a coherent response to formulate in his beclouded minded. They haven’t been having any schedule together for a while prior to the fanmeet and this is the first time he’s properly looking at Pond in weeks, and Phuwin doesn’t miss the gray patch of sleeping bags lining the bottom of his eyes like bruises, a blemish just at the side of his face that wasn’t there when Phuwin last saw him, and his bangs has gotten slightly longer now, draping over his eyes that makes Phuwin itch to brush it away.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Phuwin says defensively, feigning oblivion. Because he has no right to be defensive when it was always his intention to hide away his feelings.
Pond sits up on the bed now, sighing with so much force his shoulders slump with fatigue, hand coming up to comb his bangs back and relieving Phuwin of the urge. He looks like a soul wrung out of all of its energy, a light bulb just waiting to flicker off, such an evident contrast to how he looked just moments ago. As if Phuwin had exhausted the light out of him, taking the stars out of his eyes, and Phuwin’s heart suddenly aches to apologize for falling in love with him.
“Nothing,” Pond finally mutters softly, jaded as he starts to push himself off the bed like he suddenly wants to be anywhere but here.
Phuwin’s hand seems to have a mind of its own because in one instant, he’s picking up his bleeding heart up from the floor, and in the next, he’s trying hard to swallow it down as he reaches out to grab Pond’s wrist with cold fingers to tug him back, the fear of losing everything rising high in his throat as the shock of warmth and the stuttering pulse washes shivers down each knob of his spine.
“Don’t–” Phuwin starts but he has always had a problem with timing.
Pond’s wrist is already in his grasp, tangible and fracturing. The force of the pull is laden with so much raw desperation to keep him from leaving that it paints astonishment on Pond’s face only inches from his own when he stumbles forward, hands reach out to press his palms flat on the bed at each side of Phuwin’s head, steadying himself as his body hovers over Phuwin’s very own trembling one.
It’s not the first time they’re breathing the same air, they have kissed on camera to the point that they have both lost counts. But this is different. A territory that has felt forbidden from the very start of all of this. There aren’t any cameras, there’s no one to tell them what to do and when to stop, and there’s something about Pond’s parted lips and drained eyes that have him leaning in close until he’s filling his lungs full of Pond’s shaking exhales.
Pond’s breath gets lost in his throat when Peem tilts his head forward, a moment lost in time where his mind draws blanks with the light humming of the air conditioning running in the background to encompass the space with white nose where Phuwin sees nothing but black. Pond’s breath tastes like the ocean and a cosmic explosion behind his eyelids. They don’t kiss, but it’s so close to becoming one that his mind goes reeling and Phuwin’s breath chases and chases until they’re reeling to an immediate halt. And just as fast as it happened, Phuwin pushes Pond’s back with twice the speed and coughs once, hard enough for his throat to feel raw.
And Pond, as expected from the turn of events, looks more confused than ever, eyebrows threading together as he registers what had transpired with a scathing realization, the almost-kiss that Phuwin had initiated out of sheer spontaneously sprung on by his own conflicting emotions.
Phuwin suddenly wants to run from this until his lungs collapse because he may have shattered all salvation and blown his cover, unveiling more than he had ever intended with a crack in the facade that he’d spent so long building only to have it crumble down in the spur of a moment. The way Pond’s mouth is still handing ajar, words and questions and confirmation heavy on the tip of his plush bottom lips, tells Phuwin that he’s potentially fucked in a way where even bandaids won’t cover the scratches, where he can’t go back and make amends.
“Sorry,” Phuwin lowers his eyes, face blanches and he pushes Pond again, until he’s completely off of him until his own feets are flat on the carpet. “You’re right, it’s nothing.”
He doesn’t utter another word and paces out of the hotel room with tense shoulder, feeling the way a pair of eyes are burning against his back with the same intensity as the fingers digging crescents into his own palms or the tingling that lingers from the touch of Pond’s skin against his own, the fleeting taste of sin at the back of his throat. It’s ironic how love seems to flip everything upside down, reversing conversations and dialogue like an hourglass just barely running out of time, and Phuwin is starting to realize that time reverts for no one. The past is only an inkling of cemented memories.
“Phuwin wait—” he hears Pond calling out for him.
But the last grain of salt has already fallen, and Phuwin starts the hourglass anew.
When the cameras are on, Phuwin smiles at Pond like it doesn’t hurt. When the cameras are off, Phuwin looks at Pond like he wants it to hurt.
The world that engulfs them when the cameras are on is a sea of limitless optimism, like a switch in their heads calibrated in a perfect sync with the record button. And Phuwin will smile at Pond’s joke with the same ease he did years ago as though a part of him doesn’t shatter with each returned smile stained with a reminiscent illusion of the past.
And as soon as the cameras stop recording, the switch turns off in unison, and Phuwin pulls far away until he can’t feel Pond’s gaze on him and pushes the rich nostalgic of Pond’s low laugh out of his head because he can already feel soiled emotions surfacing like spring in the pit of his stomach, like the day he got his first taste of Pond’s light from the mirth of his smile.
And soon enough, Pond is out of sight and out of mind. But the unprecedented truth is that he craves a reality where Pond’s hand belongs in his, where he doesn’t feel ashamed in pressing his forehead between Pond’s shoulder blades even when the cameras are off, tired of living through the lens of someone else’s eyes.
And things stay like that between them until Pond corners him in their dressing room during one of their events, fingers hastingly reaching out to lock the door close.
“What the fuck is going on with you?”
Pond’s tone is almost unrecognizable. He has never used this tone with Phuwin before, he has always been nothing but soft spoken, like Phuwin is made of something fragile and perhaps, Phuwin has been so used to it. Has taken it for granted that he forgets, anger always shows its teeth even in the animals that deem the kindest.
Except Pond doesn’t sound all that angry, as if he’s weighing his emotions. As if he’s overwhelmed and confused in this string of games that Phuwin is dragging him along. As if Phuwin is running a knife across his heart leaving its tracks in the bloodstained remains of his torn up flesh. Pond doesn’t look angry. He simply looks wrung out, exhausted, like the light has been drained out of him, to the point that Phuwin finds it hard to recognize him. Phuwin thinks anger would have hurt less than the way Pond is looking at him right in this moment.
“What are you talking about?”
“Well, for one, you ignore me the moment the cameras are off. Like you’re hanging on a tread of a switch, constantly going on and off. It’s like you’re a completely different person the moment the camera is on you. I’m just trying to figure out what the hell is going on.”
There’s no bite to his words, all the resentment washes away with a morose undertone, but Phuwin feels them like a bruising punch to his gut, enough to turn his insides purple and blue all over. And words are failing him, like they sucked dry out of his chest, and all he can think of are trite cliches stained with platitude, it’s not you, it’s me.
“I’m not ignoring you.”
“Well you sure don’t look at me either.”
Phuwin understands the context of what he means better than Pond probably does, feels the weight more than Pond holds. But Phuwin is not made of enough steel willpower to strip Pond entirely from his life, mostly fleshy muscle fiber and a matrix of bones to cover his withering heart, and a part of him still holds a special hiding place for Pond’s gentle hands and pretty lips. He wants to hold onto friendship, onto the crystal shards of his youth being spent with Pond, but it’s hard trying to remember what that’s like when he’s loved someone for so long and he has forgotten what life was like before Pond. The past is a lost art without a light to lead the way.
“You’re just overthinking things,” Phuwin tries to mask the way his remark doesn’t even convince himself, not even a little.
“So look at me.”
Phuwin swallows hard and shifts his gaze back to Pond, preparing himself for what he doesn’t want to see, yet in doing so, he sees that Pond is right there beside him, eyes full of an aggrieved sadness that doesn’t suit his face and Phuwin has never found it so hard to look at Pond before. So many words burning at the tip of his tongue, begging Pond to never look this broken. Never for anyone. Especially for him.
“Why is it,” Pond says quietly, just barely above a whisper. “That on the off-chance you’ll actually look at me, you’re miles away, resenting my existence?”
He wonders how a person could be so wrong about him. How the one person who knows him better than anyone could be so terribly wrong about him.
“You know that’s not true,” Phuwin mutters firmly. Because if only Pond knows that in every single parallel universe they may find themselves in, where he exists in the same timeline as Pond, not a single version of him could ever resent Pond. Phuwin resents himself, down to the muscle fiber of his very being.
“But that’s the thing, Phuwin,” Pond tenses his jaw. “I just don’t know what to think anymore, not when you treat me like I don’t mean anything to you, like you deeply despise to even be in the same vicinity as me–”
“Stop,” Phuwin almost cries, but it takes everything in him to choke down the pain that rises up his throat like bile because this isn’t how it was supposed to be. He finds himself grabbing the collar of Pond’s shirt, forcing him back against the wall with a thump that clambers through the empty room and vainly hoping that it’ll knock out the insecurities from within Pond. And he’s looking at Pond now, with so much conviction rolling off of his chest, “do not ever think you mean nothing to me. Do not ever fucking put that thought in your head, ever.”
“Okay, then what is it, Phuwin? Why don’t you just fucking spit it out—”
And Phuwin does, right up against Pond’s lips with a roughness that renders them both breathless and starving for air. It’s dangerous, impulsive, but all Phuwin can think of is the way he’s suddenly kissing Pond by accident with so much force than reason, and he pulls away so fast that Pond’s lips are still left parted from the ghost of the kiss. He brings his fingers up to touch his simmering lips while Pond stares at him speechless, a million and one emotions flickering across his face as Phuwin stands there with regrets coursing through him like river veins.
“Fuck,” Phuwin breathes, running a hand through his hair, “that wasn’t supposed to happen.”
And Phuwin almost expect him Pond to push him off, to ask him what the fuck he was thinking. Phuwin almost wishes that Pond could just throw a punch or two, knock him out completely because maybe then, he can finally come back to his senses. But Pond would never do that. Pond would never touch Phuwin like that. Would never put his hands on Phuwin like he wants it to hurt.
But he does pull Phuwin forward, closer and closer, until they’re pressed up against each other. Chest to chest. Hips to hips. Until Pond’s lips are touching his again. This time with so much desperation that Phuwin reaches out to grip at the back of his neck to hold on and pull closer. And it’s nothing compared to all the time they have kissed on camera before. Nothing.
It’s more. It’s so much more.
Pond presses himself into him, draws him closer, fills every crevice in between their bodies. He kisses him.
He parts his mouth, Phuwin parts his own. They breathe each other in, tongues tangling and the moment they touch, they grow desperate.
It happens so quickly. And Phuwin can’t fucking stop.
His hands are all over him, appetitive, taking. And Pond’s are as well, feel all over his back, his arms, his neck, his shoulders. Pond doesn’t kiss like the characters that Phuwin has kissed on cameras all of these years, somehow it’s so distinguishable.
Pond kisses with abandon, wet and rough and desperate yet the softness of it all drips on the edges, like the gentleness is just a part of him, something that has molded itself into the person that is Pond. He kisses voraciously yet tenderly. He sighs into Phuwin’s mouth, forehead creasing, kisses him again, again, again.
Phuwin’s blood rushes, heart hammers.
His mind is spinning so fast that he finds that he can’t keep up, not when Pond is just feeding all of his curiosities of what it’s really like to kiss Pond. Not the characters he is playing. But Pond, the boy who looks at Phuwin like he’s made of starlight and moondust.
And Pond just knows how to kiss him, slow and drawn out but with this determination beneath it. A restless feeling works itself up Phuwin’s body and he makes this terrible little noise, whiny and breathy as he knots his fingers in Pond’s hair. And it’s almost embarrassing to be this needy for someone, it would be embarrassing with anyone else but this is Pond and Phuwin just simply wants. And wants. And wants.
One moment, they are pressed against the wall and the next Pond sits them on the couch with Phuwin’s legs thrown over his laps, his hand at the cut of his waist, both of his thighs now hiking up over Pond’s hips, his fingers pressing into Pond’s back, too fast, too everything and Phuwin is almost afraid to make the wrong move, calculating each touch of his fingers in his head like he fears one wrong press on skin and he’ll break this moment completely.
And he knows they shouldn’t be doing this, licking words right out of each other’s mouths instead of actually saying it outloud and resorting to leaving things unresolved, unmanaged, un-everything so that it hangs thick in the air like molasses. But no, Phuwin doesn’t want to push Pond away, not when he’s already tasted sin at the back of his tongue.
And there’s a question that has been lingering in his mind for far too long and he just has to ask. He just has too. He pulls back, feel the slick of his own lips separating from Pond’s wet ones, “is there someone–”
And the words hang themselves uselessly in the air because there are so many things he wants to ask. Is there someone else? Do you kiss anyone else like this? Do you touch anyone else like this? Do you let anyone have you the way I’m having you? Does it make me greedy if I want you like this, all to myself? Would you allow me to be greedy, just once? Just this one time.
But his tongue feels thick at the back of his throat and he only looks at Pond, like he’s hoping that Pond can read the words at the back of his mind. Like he wants to kiss Pond hard enough so Pond can see all of his secrets, the dirty, the filthy ones. The ones where he wishes to have Pond to the point that he’s willing to be ruined from the sheer desperation of getting to taste the desire that has been buried so deeply in the focal core of his being.
Pond brushes his hair from his forehead and Phuwin seeks for his touch out of instinctual habits, “there’s no one, Phu. There has never been anyone else.”
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legendsgalore · 2 months
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The Song before the Storm
Why wouldn't you rejoice at a moment to yourself, away from the nine men you are traveling with? It was hard enough knowing you were the weak link here (haha get it), but that you knew as much as you did about all these heroes, and they had no clue, it's a hard secret to keep. In fact, it's such a difficult task that if you aren't aware, you may just tip your hand. Especially if you are not as alone as you think you are...
Notes:
It adds a bit more fun if you imagine the Reader looking like Marin/Malon, though whether that be in the hair, just the facial structure, or body, that can be up to you. And also, if you don't care for that, you can just imagine it's simply the personalities that are similar. Also I did not proof-read this at all.
Cross-posted to AO3 too
https://archiveofourown.org/works/57421948
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Silence is underappreciated, you decided as you lowered yourself into the water. It was the right temperature, almost too cold to be comfortable, but once you were submerged you felt the chill melt into your bones and chase out any lingering tension. It wasn’t too dark yet, the oranges from the sunset cast your world into various shades of warm colors.
You were bathing in a pond not too far from the Chain’s campsite. It was a lucky find, fresh water so tucked away in the forest. You could see the glimmer of fairies on the other side, so clearly they felt safe in this space, hence why you were able to wander from the group by yourself.
Asking Time earlier had been an ordeal, he had fixed his one eye on you, and you felt your resolve literally crumple to dust in face of it.
Swallowing hard, you had pleaded for your case. “Please? You said it yourself, that fairies being there meant it was a safe space for the forest, so couldn’t I go bathe by myself?”
You knew why one of the Links always followed you, even if no one had outright told you, they felt you needed to be guarded. You supposed it wasn’t wrong, you could barely maintain the proper sword stances (thanks to some training from Sky), but still, no personal time in a group of nine guys? That’s rough.
Time began to respond, and you felt your heart sink. “You know why I can’t agree to this, you would be out of sight from anyone who could protect you.”
“But you would hear if anything went wrong!”
His expression did seem remorseful, as the old man rebuked, “Not every threat will be a loud one that will draw our attention, I’m sorry.”
Looking down, you had accepted your fate when Legend called out, “Aw come on old man! Just let her have this one thing!”
Both of you looked over, and though the Veteran was using the pretense of looking in his bag to not meet your or Time’s gazes, his hands weren’t moving.
“She’s right, we all have exceptional hearing too, and I am sure even a wolf could keep an ear perked up for her.”
You saw a few people stifle laughs, Four, Wild, but Time remained staring at Legend, who finally turned and met his gaze with a nervous expression.
With a sigh, Time relented, “I guess so, and I do think Malon would appreciate me letting this young lady get some space from us men.”
Legend’s expression morphed into a victorious smirk, and you felt your own face light up in joy.
“Yes! Thank you Time, and you too Legend!” You made sure to cast out a thanks to the Veteran, and a blush came over his face and he looked away.
The others laughed lightly at Legend’s sudden shyness as he muttered, “Don’t mention it.”
Time chuckled as you rushed to gather your bathing supplies, luxuriously supplied courtesy of Warriors’ homeworld.
“Please do be careful, bring your sword just in case.”
You nodded, hooking the band that held the sheath for the short blade over your head.
“I will, and I’ll call out if anything seems off.”
You were just about to the edge of the clearing the camp was in, not wanting to waste the lingering daylight, so Time had to raise his voice to respond.
“Yeah, loud enough a wolf, or a bunny could hear!”
That last bit about a bunny felt strange, but you ignored it as you headed into the woods. Because of this, you missed as Legend’s head whipped around to stare at the old man, who was casting a very pointed gaze at the Veteran.
Silence fell over the camp, a few beats passed, and then the glaring contest broke as Legend exasperatedly cried out.
“Argh fine! Rancher gimme that thing already.”
Chuckling, Twilight stepped forward, handing Legend something small from his palm. He looked between Legend and Time.
“You sure this doesn’t call for Wolfie’s help? I feel that being able to control the transformation would help in case of something.”
Legend replied as he tugged his bag over his shoulder, turning into the woods. “I have my Moon Pearl this time, it’ll be fine. Plus, I think I have to go, I think I got punished by the old man here.”
Punctuating his last sentence, Legend playfully stuck his tongue out at Time, who crossed his arms and raised one eyebrow with a smirk in response. And with that, the Veteran turned to follow you, with you none the wiser.
____________________________________________________________________________
Though the others made fun of Warriors for fussing over his appearance, you were just grateful someone not only had soap, but nice soap that had moisturizing elements, and even pressed jasmine for a floral touch.
Honestly, you wondered as you spread suds over your shoulder and upper arm, you didn’t think the Chain really understood just how pampered your life was in comparison to theirs. Or not even their own, but what would be considered a pampered life here.
For example, just scented soap in general, or the idea of having separate soaps for maximizing care of your hair, body, and skin. Though, that was due to technology being able to develop in your world. It helped to not have society get wrecked every couple of centuries you thought.
The reminder of your home made you pause. Traveling with the Chain was nice, a dream you could admit that you had lusted over late at night before, in your old life. But, real life was much more complicated than a video game, or silly daydream what-if scenarios.
As of right now, you were a burden on these heroes. Sure there were all nine of them, but Hylia would only have called upon them all if that was needed. And the elephant in the room was that you were woefully unable to do anything in a fight. Just the whole conversation earlier proved how the Chain saw you, worried to even let you out of their sights.
It was nice to be cared for, but you just felt guilty and ashamed more than anything. Hence asking Sky for help. And you could tell you were much stronger than before, lithe muscle replacing plush skin. But it wasn’t just you being a burden upon the others. You knew them.
You had daydreamed about meeting these heroes because back home, the Legend of Zelda series was one of your favorite things. But Links were definitely a secretive type and it was easy to see that no one was gonna take lightly to you knowing all their deepest secrets, or the tough parts of their journeys they would rather no one know about.
Your knowledge impeded you fully getting close with any of the heroes, though luckily you had thought quickly and gave the white lie of knowing them as legends in your time. Not untrue, and it could disguise having general knowledge about the heroes’ journeys.
But you could look at Time and just go “The moon will fall in three days,” or you could look at Sky and say “Did you check that Ghirahim was truly gone after beating Demise,” or at Legend and just say “It was not just a dream,” and literally everything you had built here would all fall apart.
You sighed deeply, realizing that you had paused your washing as you had ruminated on your situation, the pleasant coolness from before having chilled you, goosebumps visible on your arms.
You started humming to try and expel some of the anxiety that had built up, and gathered up suds between your hands to direct to your hair.
Lamenting the lack of conditioner, you could only just make sure you got your hair clean. It was satisfying feeling the grease loosen from the clumps. You kept humming, a random lighthearted tune. Though it may have been wishful thinking, you thought you could see the fairies fly a little closer to you as the sounds of your song wove into the air.
You swear, if Four hadn’t had an extra headband, and Wild hadn’t had his extra hairband, you think you may have just taken your sword and chopped your hair short yourself. You were not used to dirty hair.
Chuckling at your pampered thoughts, you finished washing and held a deep breath to dunk your head under the surface. Easy way to get all the suds out, and you figured the shock would help bring levity to your mood.
With a one, two, three, you dove beneath the surface and popped back up, laughing as the temperature somehow still was a shock, despite having been in the water for all this time.
The brightness of the fairies was more noticeable than before, though they were still mostly across the pond. You realized that the sun had almost set, the lingering colors of twilight cast over the forest pond.
You began making your way to the water’s edge, intent on making it back to camp before dark, when a voice cut through the quiet.
“How do you know that song?”
You yelped, and instinctively kicked back deeper into the pond. Your heart leapt into your chest, and you immediately panicked as you realized your sword was next to your clothes…on the ground next to the pond.
“Calm down it’s just me!”
“H-huh?!” You gasped out, but followed the direction the voice had came from and was startled to see Legend standing a few paces back from the water’s edge, looking to the side and holding his hand over his eyes.
His shoulders were hunched, and you could see over his fingers his eyebrows were furrowed. He still wasn’t looking at you, and you realized that you were definitely very nude in the water and couldn’t help the squeak that escaped you.
Legend called out again, “Don’t worry, I won’t look.”
You almost called back a thanks, but? Why would you thank him in this situation? You began swimming back to shore. Thinking about it, you weren’t really surprised about someone being sent after you, it was almost expected even though Time had said you could go by yourself. You weren’t even mad, just mildly disappointed your privacy wasn’t what you thought it was.
Though you had expected “Wolfie” to be here, as the boys could get away with sending the totally-not-Twilight-pet they had. So Legend’s presence was a little confusing.
An awkward silence fell upon the pond as you pulled yourself out of the pond, bare body dripping water. Casting a quick glance at Legend to confirm he was still not looking, you dry yourself off with a spare cloth that Wild had given you.
After drying, you began pulling your clothes over your body, and finally Legend spoke into the silence.
“Sorry for startling you, but how do you know that song?”
You were kneeling next to the water, and from squeezing the water out of your hair, you look up at Legend.
“What do you mean?”
His expression pinches, as he gestures, looking like he was struggling to hold himself back from a more dramatic reaction.
“The one you were humming!”
“Humming…you mean while I was bathing?”
You looked at Legend as you said that, and he at least had the decency to blush and look away in shame there, though his emotions were still clearly running high,
“Yes! Where did you hear it?” Legend’s voice kept inching higher in octave as the conversation continued, and you felt your heart rate spike despite not knowing what was going on.
“W-why?”
“Because!” Finally Legend exploded, taking steps forward to grasp your shoulders in a tight grip.
“No one else should know that song!”
Your heartbeat was in your ears as you considered Legend’s words, no one should know the song….? Oh. Oh no.
You were humming the Ballad of the Windfish.
As your monumental mistake dawned upon you, Legend continued, his voice choking as he reigned in the volume, likely to avoid anyone from camp coming to check the commotion.
As a result, his voice dropped to a deeper tone, and with the proximity between you two, the tension rose exponentially.
“That song doesn’t exist anymore, so why were you humming it?!”
“U-uh,” You stammered, not sure what to say, still panicking over your mistake, and at the realization that the Hero of Legend was holding you incredibly close, with only about a foot of distance between your faces.
His expression was pinched, and it takes on a sorrowful look, his lips pursing together as his eyes almost glaze over as he looks through you.
“Did, did someone teach it to you? Did a girl teach you?”
Legend’s violet eyes refocus, meeting your’s, causing your heart to skip a beat. Curse him for being so pretty.
“You look so similar to her…maybe…are you…?”
And with that your heart skips some more beats, but for a much different reason. Rapidly you shake your head.
“NO no no, no Legend, no, I am not her. She’s, she’s still gone Legend.”
A spark of light you hadn’t even noticed built up, faded from Legend’s eyes as you said that, which made your heart hurt but it was necessary to stop that train of thought.
You couldn’t do that to him. You knew you looked like Marin in passing maybe, but not that the resemblance was strong enough that Legend would notice. You thought you looked like Malon more, though Time hadn’t said anything about that.
The grip on your shoulders shifting slightly, Legend choked out, “So why, why do you know her song?”
Still looking into Legend’s eyes, you knew you couldn’t lie to him here. He didn’t deserve that.
“Because,” you said, “I know it from your story, your legends.”
He looks confused at that, “But I haven’t told a soul details about…”
“Koholint Island?” You supply, anticipating the shocked expression from the Veteran.
“Yeah, I know about it. I, I don’t know when, or who, but you must tell someone in the future about that adventure, as it’s readily available for anyone to read up on in my time.”
You finally break his gaze, feeling shameful for how much you know, and the fact that still this wasn’t the full truth. You didn’t just read about the Windfish, you had experienced the journey with him, through a lighthearted lens that skimmed the traumatic emotional downfall from the conclusion.
Legend seemed at a lost for words, staring at you with some emotion on his face you weren’t sure of. Confusion? Fear? Disgust? Panic?
He stutters out, “T-that’s…”
You interrupt him, not sure if you wanted to hear the rebuke you knew was coming. “I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything before. I-I wasn’t sure how you would all react, and I also didn’t realize some of what I knew was not common knowledge until I realized that some of you were omitting details or not saying anything when I knew you knew more, such as you not saying much when Wind talks about sailing and-”
“Stop.”
You snap your jaw shut, your accidental ramble cut off at the one command from Legend, voice raw with emotion.
Neither of you are looking at each other, though you are still in the same close proximity. And you wish you could just reach out and grab the hero in a hug and tell him how much you cared and still do care and in fact care so much more than you thought you would and that you regret sullying the authenticity of his trust for sharing the deepest parts of himself because you ripped that rug right out from beneath him.
That you took away his choice and he found out because you were humming a song in what you thought was a private moment.
Unable to bear the silence any more, you burst out again, “I’m sor-!”
“So you know it all.”
You swallow, looking up at Legend, he wasn’t much taller than you-your nose at his chin level-and nod.
He hums once, his expression is guarded and more flat than before, and seems to brace himself before asking.
“Was it real?”
“Yes!” You cry out, lunging forward, catching yourself on Legend’s chest, his hands moving to grasp your upper arms.
“Yes! It was real! They, they found the bones of the Windfish centuries later, in Wild’s time!”
Taken aback by the suddenness of your response, Legend’s constructed mask fell, once more revealing the cascade of emotions he held.
“What? It’s dead?!”
“Yeah, ask Wild for pictures of the Gerudo Great Skeleton, he’ll know what that means.”
Legend is taken aback at that seemingly random statement, but you continue.
“I’m sorry you had to find out this way Legend, truly. I would have told you eventually, but, it’s a hard topic to bring up in normal conversation, right?”
He smiles at that, a soft one that makes your heart light up and reminds you just how close you are to the hero.
You are reminded that though he is smaller than the likes of Time or Warriors, he is very much a strong adventurer himself, and that is reflected in the strength of his grip. You can feel the callouses on his skin through your thin shirt, loaned from Wild, and shiver despite the heat emanating from his chest on your hands.
Legend makes the same realization as you, and takes a step back, releasing you. You shiver again, this time for real, and he frowns.
“We should get back.”
Agreeing, you look up at the sky, now dappled with twinkling stars. “Yeah, Time is probably wondering where we are by now.”
The stars provided just enough light that you could gather your stuff, and Legend waits for you by the edge of the clearing to do so. The moment of silence isn’t awkward, but pensive, as the two of you ponder the things revealed between you.
You want to say something, but before you can decide what you end up calling out, “Legend?”
The Hero of Legend turns to look at you, expression hard to read in the near total darkness. The only light provided was the stars, and the twinkling of the fairies all around the two of you.
“Yeah?”
You hesitate, not having planned what you wanted to say yet, before just saying exactly what was on your mind.
“You don’t need to talk to me about everything, but know that I am here for you. And, and that I care, about you, Legend…Link, so please come to me if I can help you with anything, okay?”
Your cheeks are burning by the time you finish your small statement, and you have to force yourself to watch Legend’s reaction.
He tilts his head, and smiles softly, exhaling through his nose lightly in amusement.
“Okay sure, but you’ll probably regret getting to know me, I’m not that nice.”
You smile and run to catch up to him. “Aww no I think you are! You’re totally the softest-hearted out of the bunch here, for surrrre!”
Legend scoffs and lightly shoves you as you both head into the woods back to camp. You wouldn’t say anything, but having Legend here while you walked in the dark woods definitely made you feel safe than otherwise.
Speaking of which…
“No you totally are a softie! I mean you came after me anyways, and probably was going to be hidden except for my humming.”
Legend folds his arms and clicks his tongue, “Ah that, well, actually…yeah I know I had told the old man off for not letting you go off on your own, but it was totally me that wanted to check anyways.”
Sensing the lie in his words, you elbowed the Veteran with a smirk on your face, “It was your idea you say?”
His own lips pulling into a playful smirk that had no right being as handsome as it was, and rolled his eyes.
“Yes it was, now believe me here!”
You laugh, the sound filling the night. Though your hand had been slightly tipped to your unbidden knowledge, it was overflowing anyways, and perhaps this was going to be more helpful than harmful.
____________________________________________________________________________
“You sure you didn’t just come to peep?”
“Oh shove off!”
Notes:
Lowkey I feel like this could be another fun series for the Chain, where it would be the same scenario for each Link, that they stumble upon the reader in a moment of privacy, and it reveals that they know more than they let on, but it just brings them and that hero closer together. (I mean when I was writing this I had to refrain from some cheesy "strange sadness as dusk falls" lines so the Twilight chapter would probably write itself lol).   Also I know this may come off as OOC for Legend? But I'm kinda reworking my impression of him since the latest update, as I realized I was focusing too much on one aspect of his personality (the prickly, angry part that lashes out to the world). And that part is still very much there, but there is more to him than that. And I want to make sure that when I depict Legend, it's with all of him, the experienced and capable Veteran, the goofy too-young hero who loves pranks, and the burnt out hero who is angry at the world for it's unfairness.
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betaboks · 4 months
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Time to yap since I've been posting abt this without fully elaborating. Little profiles for the siblings here and here
tl;dr I just wanted to do a little swap au where the modded siblings r the normal ones now, but I still wanted to keep the fact they're generally not very good siblings to Sanji (with the exception of Reiju) instead of swapping that dynamic as well.
Reiju's mods never really worked on her, even though they were attempted after birth. The boys all got spared by their mother in the womb at the cost of her dying much earlier than she did in canon, except for Sanji, who came out "right". Quickly it was pretty clear he fulfilled the role of a weapon with flying colors, but his emotional mods left him with very little personality and expressiveness, so he wouldn't be any good for actually running Germa when it came down to that.
So, suddenly the failures are deemed necessary. Judge can't get rid of them, even in a way that helps him save face.
It doesn't stop him from reminding them that they're failures that couldn't hope to live up to his expectations, and it also doesn't stop him from trying to "fix" them, even though it hasn't worked. Even though they're royalty, there's an air about them because of how their father talks about them. None of the staff are ever gonna dare treat them poorly but you can tell there's a neon sign over their heads calling them all disappointments. They end up split up as well so there's less solidarity or space to find comfort in each other between them. Niji ends up as a scientist, Yonji as a soldier, Ichiji as the crown prince with all the education and responsibility that entails, and Reiju is sort of in limbo, though she acts as an advisor. It is a bit miserable, though even with all this they do still try to find time together.
Sanji at some point gets told to not let any of his siblings come to harm, and it quickly becomes an order he prioritizes much more than Judge could've predicted he would. He is their protector above all else, and they are important.
At some point whilst Judge is trying to modify his siblings again later in life (likely whilst Yonji was getting his arm replaced, I have smth specific in mind but I'm not sure about it so that'll be sorted later!) Sanji comes to perceive Germa as physically harming his siblings, one of the things he isn't supposed to let happen. So he gathers them all together during a quiet time, splits off some of their snail ships, and leaves with them. Effectively, they've all run away.
That's the setup.
They gain a reputation over time on the Grand Line as the ship with the vicious guard dog. They don't fly a jolly roger, but they get into enough scuffles and subsist off of stealing from other pirates enough that they get treated similarly to pirates regardless, even though they're not usually the aggressors. Sanji is just thorough like that.
Months after all of that happens and they're settled down after the initial chaos of finally getting out of Germa (though still on the run and sailing, they're definitely still being looked for), Niji ends up suggesting that they euthanize Sanji. It comes from a place of care, he thinks it's unfair and inhumane that he has to live with no feelings and only really having orders to follow as motivation for things, and this starts a chain of infighting and arguing between all of his siblings.
Yonji agrees, though he doesn't really care for Sanji. He sees him to some degree as a weapon, and one they'd do well to get rid of because he could be used against them when their father rears his ugly head again. Reiju disagrees just on principle, and is kind of mortified that Niji's solution to their brother being different from them is to just end his life. She's retained what her mother tried instilling in her. Ichiji disagrees, but for practical reasons. He also doesn't much care, but he knows they're on the Grand Line, and that Yonji being a good fighter isn't going to get them out of scuffles unscathed the way having Sanji around as their guard dog does. It is kind of hard to argue against that, all things considered, but it's not the sort of argument that's going to keep anything at bay for too long either. It keeps bubbling back up and strains all of their relationships.
Sanji, of course, hears all of this. None of them consult him on the issue or tell him about it directly. He remains loyal to them all anyway. He is still their guard dog.
Things happen from there obviously but I hope to write a fic so that'll be for a later date if I ever get around to it. Hoping I do. I still wanna just put this out here in case I never do get around to it LOL. Feel free to ask questions and such :] I like engaging with people
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luminetti · 8 months
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𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒖𝒆 𝑨𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 ༺♡༻ Chapter 3
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༘⋆Notes: this chapter went a bit differently pacing wise than I originally planned! Last chapter I added a 7th prospective chapter to the navigation post because I wasn't sure if I could fit everything into just 6. I think the 7th chapter is very likely to happen, so just letting you know ch6 wont be the last. I love reading your guys' comments both here and on ao3, they're all so sweet and it's what keeps me posting so thank you to everyone who did that 💜
༘⋆ Chapters: ┆[1] ┆ [2] ┆[3]┆[4]┆[5]┆[6] ┆[7] ┆
ao3
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The metal handle of the withdrawing room bore cold through your hand as you hovered in front of the door. Your mind was reeling. Gale had mentioned magic and mages that morning, and he seemed quite adamant for your presence. Bending down to peek through the rusted keyhole, you squeezed one eye shut, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was to come. Your vision was fuzzy, blurred from old bits of metal that had rusted from years of unuse.
After your eyes finally began to focus, you could just barely make out a figure on the ground, toying with what almost looked like string? Like plucking invisible thread, Gale peeled apart the translucent strands, letting bits slip through his fingers in a breath of mist. The string between his fingertips glinted in the moonlight as he redirected it into a soft wave, the line following its path and deftly falling into place. A quiet gasp escaped your lips when the final pieces settled themselves in the air like brushstrokes of greens, blues, and purples in the air. Gale had painted an aurora into the air with nothing but his hands.
The warmth of your breath hit your face as you pressed closer against the door, subconsciously leaning against it harder in hopes of somehow seeing more. Too engrossed in the display, you failed to recognize the indicative clicking of the door latch coming undone. With a creak, the door swung open into the room and spat you out onto the floor, landing behind Gale in embarrassing proximity.
Gale leaped to his feet, swiping a hand through the aurora and waving away the remnants of the sparkling colors into the moonrays. “Gods, you caught me practicing,” he mumbled, brushing the dust from his clothes and smoothing the wrinkles. “I thought I had prepared well enough but– are you alright?”
Scrambling from the floor, you nodded, far too starstruck to answer him properly. “Aurora– in the air– moving with your fingers–” your sentences spewed out like strands of word vomit, unable to finish a single thought before beginning another. Mimicking his gestures from earlier, you waved your hands around, hoping they would convey your questions better than your words. You had to know more.
Gale paled and clasped his hands around yours to steady your erratic movements. “Please don’t be alarmed,” he begged, “I wanted to tell you, There just wasn’t– Never the right time–” Gale caught himself from blithering any further and took a deep breath. “Let us start over–”
“I’m not,” you interjected, forcing Gale to fall silent. “Not alarmed, I mean.” Grabbing one of the nearby chairs, you dragged it towards the center of the room and sat. “Don’t restart. I want this.” You motioned to himself and your surroundings. “I want it to be genuine. You in your entirety.” 
His jaw softened and he nodded silently. “I suppose I’d quite like that…” He began, looking around the room for inspiration. “I had something more ostentatious planned, but that doesn’t feel right anymore.” Gale’s eyes locked onto your unfinished painting of Euphemia’s garden. “This however…”
You watched in a daze as Gale swept a hand over the canvas, the dried paint morphing at his touch. It was as if a breeze had come over the painting. What was once static scenery of flowerbeds and grass spotted through a window, now had begun to ripple. Each individual flower and blade of grass swayed as if it was caught in the wind and even the graphite outline of the window’s curtains drifted lightly.
Gale stood off to the side and faced the painting. Cupping his hands around his lips, he blew a puff of air and the garden trembled as if a gust of wind had blown through the field. As the wind grew stronger the curtains billowed and petals detached from their stems. One of the flowered bushes shook in the wind more ferociously than the others, shaking harder and harder until a single flower snapped off the branches.
The flower–small and pink–flew around the painting, carried by the wind which had now slowed to a zephyr. As the flower drifted closer, the pointed petals and golden center became more apparent. It was a sweet brier. Rosa rubiginosa, as Euphemia calls it. But more commonly known as–
“An eglantine rose,” Gale mused, catching the painted flower as it emerged from the canvas. Twirling it in his fingers, he carefully plucked off the small thorns covering the stem. Once cleared, he bent down and tucked it neatly behind your ear. “Your favorite, if I’m not mistaken?”
Dumbfounded, you raised a hand to stroke the flower sitting in your hair. Sure enough, the petals were smooth and velvet-like. It was a real eglantine rose. “I’m impressed you remembered…” you murmured, more to yourself than to him. It was hard to fight the rosiness creeping up your neck, accompanied by a familiar sense of transparency, though different than before. You weren’t quite sure if you minded it or not. It felt as though Gale could see right through you, or that you were bare before him. And yet, you made no move to cover yourself. 
“If that trick isn’t called ‘gale force winds’ then I’ll be highly disappointed.”
Gale snorted, exhaling sharply through his nose. “I’ll admit I’ve never attempted to name any of my abilities before. Though, I suppose I wouldn’t be able to come up with anything like that on my own.” 
“It’s a pity you’ll lose my naming prowess when you depart.”
“A day I have come to dread, it seems.” He chuckled nervously and slipped a hand into his pocket, retrieving a small coin purse. “I suppose I was dreading it more than I realized.” Undoing the drawstring, Gale produced a small necklace from the pouch. Hanging from the thin chain was a crystal pendant, unceremonious and unassuming. “When I eventually return to Waterdeep, I want to leave you with something… Apologies, I wasn’t sure what jewelry you preferred.”
You took the necklace in your hand, rolling the gemstone between your fingers. It looked deceptively light. The pendant bore a surprising amount of weight, indicative of high quality material. 
“This is for me? Really?”
Gale nodded, chewing on his lower lip as he watched your expression closely.
A glimmer from within the necklace caught your eye. Suspended in the clear pendant were engraved stars, shining with all the colors of a sunset sky.
“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, undoing the clasp and holding it out for him to fasten around your neck.
Gale hurriedly took the chain and positioned himself behind you, draping the cold metal over your neck and lifting your hair aside.
You forced yourself to still and let his warm fingers brush against the nape of your neck as he fiddled with the fastener.
“That is most gratifying to hear,” He said, motioning for you to turn once he finished. “I would’ve asked whether you liked silver or gold, but I…” Gale trailed off, his eyes locking onto the pendant hanging just beneath your collarbone. Clearing his throat, his gaze flicked back up to meet your own. “It suits you nicely.”
You reached up to feel the necklace against your skin. “I rarely wear jewelry outside of balls. But this,” you closed your fingers around the crystal. “This I believe I’ll be wearing for a while.”
Gale raised an eyebrow, looking from the necklace, to the flower in your hair, then back to you. “You’ve been to the balls this season? How could I possibly have missed you?”
You fidgeted with the necklace. You were never particularly lucky when it came to courting. Ballroom dancing felt too monotonous to be worthwhile and in sensing your discomfort, no suitor had requested a second dance in one night. There was another time when a suitor had professed his undying devotion with a bouquet of amaranth barely a day after you mentioned your aversion to pollen.
Euphemia excitedly told you that amaranth represented longevity and in this case, longevity of love. You, however, found it to be the longevity of sneezing, which eventually solidified the poor suitor’s rejection.
Finally, you shrugged. “I don’t suppose we run in quite the same circle, Viscount.”
A warm hand brushed against your temple, slipping a couple strands of hair that threatened to cover your eyes off to the side. “I must be in the wrong circle then.” The back of Gale’s hand trailed down the side of your cheek and rested underneath your chin, gently tilting your face to look up at him.
Just as you began to feel his warm breath on your lips, the doors swung open once more and Euphemia strode in, her nose deep in a newspaper.
“Scandal of the season!” She cried, pacing back and forth in the room, not once looking up. “Newly made Dowager Duchess Mystra of Waterdeep swarmed with suitors come the following of Duke Elminster Aumar’s passing,” she recited, frantically flipping to the next page.
The warmth of Gale immediately disappeared as he rushed to read over Euphemia’s shoulder with you in quick pursuit.
“The mother of magic retreats in mourning and withdraws from the shortly upcoming ball hosted by Duke Ravengard of the Sword Coast,” she continued, letting Gale take the paper and read himself.
You rose to your tiptoes, trying to skim the paper over Gale’s tall frame. “The mother of magic? I thought she was just a normal mage?”
Gale shook his head, his fingers tangled in his hair, grasping it like it would disappear from his head. “The Duke and Duchess were some of the most powerful mages in Faerûn. Just the union between the two helped ease fears of magic across all of Waterdeep and even parts of Baldur’s Gate.”
You bit your lip. The opinions on mages were already precarious. The loss of a Duke would be difficult for any region, but a Duke of arcane magic would be difficult to replace. From what it seemed, the Dowager Duchess was still excruciatingly desirable. Despite only seeing a couple portraits of her, you’ve always noted her impossibly youthful appearance. Someone of her status would have no trouble…
“Remarrying.” Gale gripped the paper so hard it began to crease in his grip. “She’s surely remarrying.”
Euphemia took the crumpled newspaper. “You think so? Her mourning will last at least another half-year, a full year until she can remarry.”
He shook his head and pressed his lips together. “Her Grace is the face of mages all over the world. She cannot just vanish from society.”
You bit your lip, feeling helpless at the sight of Gale so disheveled. “Was the Duke unhealthy?”
Gale shook his head once more. “He was healthy as can be, and that’s what worries me. I need to attend the Ravengard’s Ball. There’s people I must talk to.” 
That wasn’t possible. Gale had specifically requested for utmost discretion surrounding his presence in your manor. If he were to attend the ball, he would need to come from Waterdeep. Which meant…
“You’re leaving? Now?” You asked, reaching out and catching his wrist before you even realized you had moved.
Euphemia eyed the two of you silently. “I’ll request a carriage,” she said before turning away and leaving you alone with him..
Gale traced the flower behind your ear with a pained expression. “I know, I’m sorry it’s sooner than either of us would’ve liked.”
“Let me come with you,” you begged.
A hand snakes up your waist to lay over the necklace. From beneath his palm, your skin thrummed with warmth emitted a soft white light. When he pulled away after what felt like ages, the small pendant purred with life, glowing and dimming repetitively like a heartbeat. “If you need me, touch the crystal to relay a message. No matter where you are I will hear it and find you.”
“And if I come to the ball? Would you save a dance for me?” You leaned into him, memorizing the feel of his touch.
Gale nodded. “I’d put myself down on your dance card ten times if I must.”
You smiled sadly as he pulled away. “I’ll have quite the lonely eleventh dance.”
He took one step closer and tapped the necklace making it sway gently. “You only need to ask.” With a final parting glance, Gale let your joined hands drop as he turned and exited the room. You watched him thank Euphemia, asking her to give regards to Sebastian for him until finally Gale stepped into the prepared carriage and disappeared off into the night.
As you stood in the doorway staring out into the empty hallway, you felt the necklace thrum against your chest. Like a passing whisper caught in the wind, you felt the faintest voice in the back of your head. Goodnight, Tav.
taglist:
@vhaldren @qiific3 @cryingoverpixelsetc
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tragedy-of-commons · 2 months
Note
Congratulations on getting 150 followers, that's amazing!
Since you wanted some requests, I have one for you. You should write something Qingque related. I think it would be fitting, considering your blog is themed after her and this would be a good way to celebrate this awesome milestone!
Do whatever you want to with it, I have no idea what kind of style/story it would be. Take your time with it, I know you're busy with other requests right now. Finish those up and let me see what your awesome writing skills can do with your icon!
Have a nice day!
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crash course
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qingque & gn!reader | wc: ~850
Your coworker teaches you to relax.
tags/warnings: platonic, i love qingque, overworked reader, mentioned fu xuan
notes: hi sam! tysm for the request and kind words! your support means everything & i can't believe i hit 150. i hope you like what i decided to do with this! ^_^
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“…and that's how you slack off!” Qingque punches your shoulder, mouth full of god-knows-what-kebab. (You’re scared to ask, actually, given that she has a preference for her food to be fried beyond recognition.)
“You know, I don't think I needed your crash course on the subject. It's pretty self-explanatory,” you point out. “Self-explanatory enough that I think Madam Diviner Fu Xuan is going to know exactly where we are and hunt us down.”
Spices Supreme houses the two of you perfectly, home to various colorful characters on their lunch hours, rushing their meals as if they don’t have all the time in their lives (well, for Natives, you suppose). Letting her drag you away from your post at the Matrix of Prescience an hour before your mandated break was a bad idea, and you can’t stop looking over your shoulder like a scared dog.
“Xuany? You worry too much,” she dismisses easily. “She’s let me off with nothing more than a few threats of termination. Not to mention, you’re her favorite! Just blame me if she finds us.”
“Yeah, I definitely will,” you deadpan, “considering it is your fault.”
Qingque puts down her stick and covers her ears obnoxiously. “Lalalalala, that is not what I want to hear from you! You’re learning to relax, remember?” To make her point clearer, she leans forward and pinches your cheek, ignoring the aggrieved squeak you let out. “I used to be like this too, you know, clogged pores, dark circles, miserable—”
“Hey!”
“—but then I learned to let go and live for myself,” she says, pride suffocatingly apparent. She doesn’t even react when you swat her grubby little hand away. “So, you definitely did need the crash course.”
Her smug smile is unbearable-but-loveable all the same. When you first started working at the Divination Commission, your wiser coworkers advised you to steer clear of Qingque, Slacker Extraordinaire. It seems like fate had other plans, considering she stuck to you like a magnet, slowly spoon-feeding you her philosophy since day one. 
However, what surprises you more is her little anecdote; had she really been a diligent overachiever like you at some point? Was something like that even possible? The look in her eyes right now makes you want to believe her, and the sparkle in them earlier today is what convinced you to shirk even the tiniest bit of responsibility. Perhaps she cares more than she lets on.
“Fine,” you acquiesce. “I’ll ‘let go’. What else is there to it? Is there some kind of initiation that I don’t know about?” you pick at your food, appetite subdued due to your still-firing nerves. 
Qingque gingerly takes your hands, solemn and foreign. “I’m delighted you’d ask… it’s… it’s…”
She leaves one of your hands cold and roots around in her pocket awkwardly, maintaining intense eye contact with you like the world is about to end as you know it. You take it all back - this girl is strange. When she finally procures a Celestial Jade tile of all things, you groan inwardly.
“Celestial Jade? Really?” you hum, unimpressed. “Wow, I never would have guessed! It’s almost like you just dragged me out here to indoctrinate me and then force me to be your game partner.”
She huffs, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “I know what this looks like, but hear me out! As much as I’d love for you to play a game or two with me—that’s not what I meant. For me, Celestial Jade is a big part of ‘letting go’. It’s probably my favorite thing ever - what I put all of my heart into. You need to find your Celestial Jade.”
Qingque presses the tile into your palm. Five multicolored hearts take up the expanse of the brick, other details emerging such as its scuffed corners and its chipped paint; it is well-worn and likely seen hundreds of victories. While you stare, she continues to talk, familiar stars in the green-yellow of her irises.
“You work hard, and that’s cool. But I don’t think it’s making you happy… I thought bringing you out here today would be fun. I want everybody to have fun,” she laughs. “Also, I do want you to be my game partner, hehe.”
Yeah. She’s strange… and also totally right. You close your fingers over the tile, thumb caressing the surface pensively. Most adults let their jobs consume them, including you; the way you put all of your energy into going above and beyond for something that drains you was never your goal in life. It just kind of happened. You do need something - or someone - fun right now.
“Qingque… I think I’m starting to get it.”
“Aha! I knew you would!” she points at you like one would an endangered species, “Now, you shall face my wrath in tile mania!”
(You do end up facing off against her, but not before Fu Xuan drags you both back to the Divination Commission with smoke coming out of her ears in whorls. As Qingque takes the fall for you with a wink and a poor excuse, you thumb against the tile now resting in your breast pocket.)
Maybe your strange friend can be your Celestial Jade.
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howlingday · 2 days
Text
My idea for a potential DB! #12
2024 aug 29, 30, 31, sep 2, 4 - 10
PREVIOUS POST
Chaos VS Kyogre
MASTER LIST
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All Might VS Homelander (My Hero Academia VS The Boys) | DEATH BATTLE!
Only one Superman student will survive this super smashing slugfest!
THUMBNAIL
INTERLUDE:
FIGHTER 1: All Might, My Hero Academia’s former greatest hero.
FIGHTER 2: Homelander, Vought Corporation’s greatest product.
Wiz: Aristotle once said “It is our choice of good or evil that determines our character, not our opinion about good or evil”.
*insert a clip of All Might doing good things followed by Homelander doing evil things*
Boomstick: Want proof? Let’s look at these icons inspired by classical Americana heroics! He’s Wiz and I’m Boomstick.
Wiz: And it's our job to analyze their weapons, armor, and skills to find out who would win... a Death Battle.
PREFACE (What to know): 
This was supposed to be my release for July for very obvious reasons. Yes, I know Homelander dies. Yes, I know it’s basically giving All Might a win. I don’t care. I like the hope and optimism that All Might, and I wanted to make more MHA VS The Boys because they contrast each other so perfectly: a Shounen love letter to western comics VS a satire of DC’s Justice League, a symbol of peace, hope, and altruism VS a symbol of terror and selfishness, hope VS cynicism, the ideal superhero VS the corrupted superhero. Like Iida VS A-Train before, All Might serves as an example of who Homelander ought to be whilst Homelander is a cautionary tale to All Might, one he probably has seen many times before across his long heroics career
I will attempt to connect this to my previous MHA VS The Boys episode so that there is a stronger feeling of both episodes being a crossover between their series, and this hypothetical crossover would happen some time during S2 or S3, before All Might’s big fight in Kamino with All For One. I will also be considering All Might at his strongest by taking his claim of how much weaker he’s gotten at face value, like in All Might VS Might Guy. However, I will still take some liberties with how All Might’s transformation and injuries works.
This fight works best if released in July, specifically as an Independence Day release. Had this been in the earlier seasons, it would definitely be the mid-season break. If this were S10, then it would have been released on a date similar to Stitch VS Rocket Raccoon (released July 3rd, 2023)
Please, please, PLEASE, check this link out. It links you to a Reddit page that has sprites for both characters, connections between our fighters, and templates used for an image that will be seen below.
Also, and this is very important, prime All Might will be taken into account, but I will give All Might his injuries and skeletal form JUST FOR THE SPECTACLE AND NOT FOR THE ANALYSIS. Again, All Might will have his injuries JUST FOR THE FIGHT, NOT FOR THE ACTUAL COMPARISON. I am putting a lot of emphasis on this for the sake of fair evaluation.
WHY: 
Connections (What do they have in common):
1. They have a lot of aesthetic similarities. Both are blonde males with colors that represent America as both were inspired by Superman
2. Both are icons of hero work in their own series, and thus have earned fame and renown, and are the face of heroism in MHA and The Boys respectively. Arguably, they are the most iconic and representative characters from their series. One could even say that they’re representatives of institutions of heroism (U.A. and Vought), but the larger world of heroics in which they operate is corrupt
3. Perfect thematic opposites. All Might is selfless to a self-endangering extreme, altruistic, and smiles as he saves people in order to inspire hope. Homelander is a narcissistic man-child who cares not for the people he saves, but for the attention that they give him and isn't above intimidation.
4. They are in a sense descendants, or the next in line to take up a mantle. All Might is the 8th wielder of One For All, succeeding his mentor Nana Shimura. Homelander is, in a sense, the second coming of his father Soldier Boy. Because of this, they have similar powers or abilities to their predecessors but to a greater degree, namely super strength and durability. This combines well with the fact that both were essentially given their superpowers instead of being born with them. All Might was given All For One as he was born without a Quirk and Homelander had taken Compound V and was made in a lab.
5. They both have sides that they want to hide from the public. All Might doesn’t want people to see his injuries or his true form. Homelander doesn’t want people to see his failure with the plane crash or his vile attitude to people that don’t approve of him.
6. East comics VS west comics, known for their adaptations on the screen.
7. Both are also known for their decline in health. All Might suffered heavy injuries after his fights with All For One to the point where he can’t maintain his muscular form and remains a skeletal husk for the majority of the series, and Homelander was never raised like a proper or even normal kid. He was isolated and never matured emotionally, so as the series progresses, his mental state decays and deteriorates.
Personal reasons (Why I want this battle/like this MU):
I previously mentioned that I love the contrast between MHA and The Boys, and these two characters just stand out to me because of their statuses as icons and pillars of their worlds, their powers, their actions, and words. There is so much crossover potential. Like, give fanfiction writers these ideas and see what they create with them.
Of course, I want Homelander to get his face smashed in, but I have no doubt that if All Might knew of Homelander’s backstory, he’d have some sympathy or pity for his enemy.
Also, this is one of my most wanted MUs. Palpatine VS Xehanort is my #1, followed closely by Chaos VS Kyogre, this MU, and another one I will get to down the line with Azula VS Cinder trailing all of them. However, I’m genuinely surprised we haven’t gotten any MHA VS The Boys content from the show. Yates has given us two commissioned tracks in Compound Engine (Iida VS A-Train) and No More Heroes (Billy Butcher VS Stain), and aside from a Twitter post from Ben asking the public who they want to be the next person to kick Homelander to the curve (he showed four characters, among them All Might), that’s everything that I can think of. Truth be told, I think no one has done this because of the obvious Homelander loss, but a stomp does not disqualify a matchup.
In general, if you want more MHA VS The Boys, please check out this video that dives more into the worldbuilding and the aesthetics of both series’ superhuman societies.
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Art:
THE FIGHT:
Art and animation: 
This is a fight best done in 3D. The 3D team works best when both characters have large arsenals, deep bags of tricks, or cool fighting choreography. Just look at All Might VS Might Guy and every Star Wars battle from 2020 to 2023.
As far as I can tell, Omni-Man VS Homelander was a pure passion project, and a lot of resources were poured into it. I don’t think that this one would get such a treatment, and there are 3D models for both. The easiest approach is to take All Might’s model from Jump Force and Homelander’s model from MK1, but the ideal approach would be to have it be hand-drawn, but that would severely cut down on what I want to do.
Knowing of the comic book origins for both characters, it would be cool to have some slightly stylized hand drawn bits and pieces like Mob VS Tatsumaki. However, we know from the 7 Battle Royale that Homelander sprites do exist, and there are sprites of All Might’s skeletal form, so while it’s best done in 3D, it’ll most likely be done in sprites like in the image below taken from the link in the preface.
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Possible setup: 
I want this to continue where my last MHA VS The Boys idea left off.
After the A-Train/Ingenium fiasco, Vought has come under intense scrutiny and UA is losing popularity for endangering one of their students and for associating with a company that employed a Nazi like Stormfront and a questionable character in A-Train (how did that info get leaked?). Homelander has taken it upon himself to “fix” the problem, and while UA may have given a press conference to address the issue, Homelander, the charismatic devil that he is, started a slander campaign against the threat of “Quirkies”.
In UA, the students have left as the school day just ended. All Might is in his normal form, taking down anti-UA propaganda that people have stuck to the school’s protective wall as well as some anti-Vought propaganda after a long day of teaching and trying to calm down protestors outside the school making noise that were shouting that word spouted by that fellow hero, a blonde American whom All Might initially thought well of. His press conference called to action the… More unpleasant elements of society. All Might hasn’t even changed out of his costume. and as he enters his office to grade papers, he hears a voice coming from within. 
“Ah, Toshinori. Just the man I’m looking for.” 
That voice… All Might was hoping not to have to face the man in front of him. Toshinor turns on the light and behind his desk with his legs on the table sits a blonde middle-aged man wearing a navy blue suit, red boots, and an American flag for a cape. Homelander had snuck past UA’s defenses and gotten in. He must have been waiting for him. He was… Looking at a picture of young Midoriya and Class 1-A. 
“Homelander. Why are you here?” Toshinori was hoping that the other teachers, and especially the students, weren’t here.
After a chuckle, John replies: “That f*cking little UA goody two shoes and that moron A-Train ruined everything at Vought and are making Supes look bad, and then that red birdbrain Hawks leaked some confidential info. So, I decided to come here and fix the problem at its core. Step 1? Remove Quirkies, and that starts with UA and you.” 
“Young Ingenium is a great hero! He may have faltered, but he lifts those around him and encourages them to be their best selves! I’m sorry to hear about A-Train, but he murdered an innocent civilian, and then you decided to make Heroes with Quirks look like villains.”
“See, here’s the thing, Toshi.” Homelander sighs and he stands up, approaching the skeletal figure. “We’re heroes, right? We gotta look for the public. I. Gotta look good.”
“After that press conference you did, I can’t consider you a hero. Your words are putting my students and colleagues at risk.”
“To the people, I am a hero, the GREATEST hero. I’m saving them from this plague, your genetic diseases of “superpowers” that make the majority of you Japanese not even Supes. A-Train and Ingenium may have brought bad press, but it’s nothing uncontrollable, and Hawks will soon be taken care of. So don’t stand in my way, Toshinori. I’m a real hero, and I will save everyone from you Quirkies, and if you don’t…”
Homelander’s start to glow red and he smiles evilly, crushing the picture of Class 1-A.
“Well, let’s just say that you’ll have a hard time being either a hero or a teacher.”
Toshinori’s cheeks then stretch downward with his lips, steam exiting his lean body that is now starting to grow and fill in his costume. The lanky man who was more bone than skin now stood almost two feet above Homelander, with his costume now stretched by his amazingly dense muscles, and his two long strands of hair, droopy and miserable now stand proud and curved like rabbit ears. Where there was Toshinori Yagi now stands All Might, a sharp blue gleam in his eyes.
Class 1-A may be able to handle Homelander, they certainly could handle almost anything, but in front of All Might stood a villain masquerading as a hero, and it was his duty to stop villains. “As the Symbol of Peace and as their teacher, I’m warning you: Don’t you dare hurt my students.” 
They lunge at each other, clashing like the image underneath:
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FIGHT!
1.The impact of the collision levels the office. Homelander then delivers a powerful punch with his free hand on All Might’s face, and All Might staggers a little but enough for Homelander to then ram both of them so fast out of the building that there’s a sonic boom, leaving all windows in a 10 meter radius shattered and activating an alarm. Homelander flies through buildings towards the Kamino District and then attempts to grind All Might against the ground, but All Might digs in his feet to stop the human rocket, destroying the pavement and road that they’re on like the image below.
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2. There are a lot of people shrieking, and people are scared. “Everyone, back away!” All Might then turns to the scared public, his iconic smile on his face. “Don’t worry, because I’m here!” 
3.“Why you-!” Homelander’s eyes glow red, but All Might swiftly decks Homelander in the face and follows up with a fast flurry of punches like in All Might’s fight against the Nomu. Homelander tries to get some hits in, but All Might is very quickly overwhelming him, and ends the barrage with one strong punch. “Texas SMASH!”
4.Homelander is sent flying to the other side of the avenue by the sheer force and wind pressure until he crashes into the side of a car, absolutely crushing it and destroying all its windows. Homelander is hyperventilating, very clearly having a panic attack. This isn’t looking good. He looks up and there are people looking at him, and they have their phone cameras pointed at him. He then sees the big bulky man charging at him as All Might attempts a Carolina Smash.
5.“BACK OFF!” The supersonic shout is both strong enough that not only does it break all windows in the vicinity, it also causes the bystanders’ and All Might’s ears to bleed, but it also makes All Might lose his balance and he tumbles into the ground.
6.Suddenly, Homelander’s super hearing picks up something really interesting. He hears the sounds of a kid coming toward him. It’s that green haired All Might wannabe that breaks his bones. No doubt he’s come to save All Might and the peons. Homelander grins evilly again as Deku comes into the scene. “All Might!”
7. All Might’s hearing was recovering a bit, and he looked up with a face of pure fear. “Stay away, young Midoriya!” Homelander turns towards the kid and flies at him so fast that by the time Deku sees him, the only thing he can register is the red glove that is about to turn his face into soup, until… “Missouri Smash!” All Might delivers a karate chop to the back of Homelander’s head like he did to Habit Headgear. However, Homelander quickly picks himself up and rushes at All Might and they lock arms, trying to push into the other. “All Might! I’m here to help!” “Stay away, young Midoriya!” “A hero always helps those in need, even other heroes!” “Then help the citizens! Get them to safety!”
8. Before Deku could reply, All Might shouts, “Please! GO!” Deku looks at All Might in the eyes, and reluctantly nods and runs towards the injured citizens. “Oh, you really do care.” “Unlike you, I take the time to make sure that the people I’m entrusted with are well.” All Might starts to use more force, pushing Homelander back, who’s starting to grunt and struggle.
9. “That’s swell, old man.” Homelander quickly knees All Might to the left of the bigger hero’s stomach. This causes All Might to let out a scream of pain and fall onto one knee. As All Might puts his right arm over his injury, Homelander lets out a sadistic laughter. “Look at you! THIS is Japan’s #1 hero? YOU’RE the Symbol of Peace? Good God, man, you’re weak!” An angry All Might swings at Homelander who quickly beats him to the punch by uppercutting All Might into the air. As All Might is airborne, Homelander grabs All Might’s ankle and slams him back into the ground, landing with his head on the ground and his torso facing Homelander who then uses his heat vision to strike All Might’s chest like the fatal blow from MK1, severely damaging All Might and his costume.
10. All Might starts to get up, but Homelander then grabs All Might by the head and tries to crush his head, so All Might responds by rotating his body with a lot of speed. “Oklahoma SMASH!” All Might spins so fast that he creates a vortex and Homelander can’t hold on and is once more sent flying. Homelander then flies up and up, and starts to catch his breath, trying to calm down. Too bad for him, he doesn’t have the time for that because All Might has jumped up to him, spinning into a frontal somersault and shouts “California SMASH!”, punching Homelander overhead and sending him back into the ground, cratering the asphalt and roads.
11. All Might lands in front of John, cratering the ground as well. Homelander is fully panicking now. His face is bloody, and there are helicopters flying around, no doubt news journalists reporting on the situation. His reputation is fully ruined, but… Maybe this can work… He can expose All Might in front of the whole world. All Might comes in, but John swings fast and hard at All Might’s injuries again, causing All Might to stagger. Homelander then hits All Might’s ears like he did to Blindspot, causing All Might to falter backward and his already damaged ears to bleed more, but All Might, with a lot of pain and effort, reorients himself again. They start to trade punches again, All Might punching John in the chest and Homelander punching Yagi in the face. In between the punches, we get cuts of people looking at the broadcast shouting “Don’t lose, All Might!”, including Deku. The two foes look at each other in the eyes and then attempt their final attack.
12. All Might wins through overwhelming speed and force. All Might needs to end this here and now. His colleagues were slanderized, U.A. is damaged, many citizens have died and many more, including Midoriya, were put in danger. All Might is now scowling like when he entered the U.S.J., angry that Homelander had put so many people he cared about in harm's way, both before and during their tussle.
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As Homelander then attempts to punch All Might in the face again, All Might strikes first this time, breaking Homelander’s nose and sending him backward. Homelander’s little hope is crushed, and he’s crying and shouting as he charges his heat vision. “I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU AND EVERYONE YOU KNOW!” Homelander rushes in one more time, but All Might punches him again, dizzying Homelander. “Hey, villain… Have you ever heard these words before?! Go beyond! PLUS! ULTRA!” The final punch sends Homelander flying towards the horizon, his body now dismembered. All Might lifts his fist in victory like in the aftermath of his fight with All For One in Kamino. We cut to see the crowds looking at the broadcast of All Might’s victory, and there is rapturous applause and cheering. All Might stands victorious.
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13. Homelander wins by being his diabolical self. Homelander is able to quickly strike All Might’s face again, this time giving All Might a bloody nose and incapacitates him like Blindspot. One more strong fist to All Might’s injuries, and All Might falls back, coughing up blood, and in a puff of smoke and steam, we see the skeletal and physically weak Toshinori Yagi. We cut to see people crying and in shock. Deku in particular is simply staring, wide-eyed at the giant screen. “No… Not now…” Homelander walks up to All Might, and with venom in his voice, speaks to All Might like he did to Starlight in this scene. “I know you can still hear me, so let me tell you this: I told you to stay away. You had no chance of victory because I am the Homelander, and I can do whatever the f*** I want.” Homelander, then performs one of his MK1 fatalities. using his heat vision to slice off Toshinori’s legs from the knees and then uses heat vision on his face. All Might screams in pain until the heat vision fully passes through his head, and Homelander then slices the body in half. Homelander slowly starts to chuckle, and then starts laughing.
KO!
RESULT:
Comparison/Strengths and weaknesses:
All Might:
+ Stronger
+ Faster
+ More durable
+ More experience in fighting and smarter when it comes to battling
+ Greater stamina
+ Slightly greater versatility with Heat Vision and Super Shout
- His fights with One For All leave him with an obvious weak point which could be exploited by the Nomu from the U.S.J. incident, but this is a moot point since All Might at his best does not have this weakness
- Less versatile moveset and abilities
Homelander
+ Slightly greater versatility with Heat Vision and Super Shout
+ Flight allows for superior maneuverability
+ Believe it or not, Homelander has a healing factor, so it could be reasonable to say that he can heal faster than All Might can.
- Less experienced fighting foes equal to or greater than his caliber
- Prone to panic and breakdowns
- Doesn’t have any means to permanently injure or kill All Might. Neither All For One at his best nor a Nomu specifically engineered to fight All Might were able to kill him. They may have either permanently injured him or reduced his time limit, but they are way above Homelander’s power.
Ending puns:
"All Might truly smashed the competition."
"Homelander achieved a truly diabolical win."
MUSIC/ ORIGINAL TRACK:
Sound/Composition:
Being blunt, I don’t like “Diabolical Invincible Me”. It’s my least favorite score done for the show, namely because of the synths and instrumentation. However, “Homeland Smash" will use similar synths to convey a sense of dread and despair typically associated with Homelander. As the fight carries on, the music switches to orchestral and rock, like “Mighty” , “Symbolic”, and “Continuing The Legacy” to reference All Might’s status as a Symbol of Peace.
When Homelander is trying to intimidate All Might, the synths start heavy and oppressive. Slowly, the instrumentation starts to change. During the climax/final confrontation, it is fully orchestrated, sounding like “United States of Smash” should All Might win The song would end with the orchestration and choir closing us off in a similar way. If Homelander is the victor, then the orchestral and choir elements should sound dire and dangerous, like Mozart’s Dies Irae. Come to think of it, Dies Irae would be the perfect soundtrack for Homelander’s victory since the song’s name means “Day of Wrath”. Homelander sees himself as the God of his world, and he’d be unleashing his wrath on All Might. It’s either that, or we do something similar to the ending of “Diabolical Invincible Me”. Both work for Homelander either way. In other words, there are two different endings, depending on who is the winner.
Honestly, I think this track requires both Brandon Yates and Therewolf Media. Both have worked on “Mighty”, Brandon composed “Diabolical Invincible Me”, and Therewolf has composed two more All Might-centered tracks in the aforementioned “Symbolic” and “Continuing The Legacy”. However, because of the vibe I’m going for, synths, rock, and orchestra, both can contribute since both have done works that incorporate a bit of everything I mentioned, but it’s likely going to be a very tall order.
Name/Title: Homeland Smash
The name makes reference to All Might’s techniques and the origin of “Homelander”. Since All Might and MHA in general were inspired by D.C. and Marvel Comics, both of which originated in the U.S., “Homeland Smash” essentially becomes a second name for “United States of Smash”. If you hate Homelander, then the name spells out what All Might will do.
Cover art:
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Art by me. (:
The cover art shows the passing of One For All. It is passed down seven times from one star to the next until the eighth and final receiver is instead a raised fist. Behind the fist is a giant splatter of blood to reference the highlight of gore and blood in The Boys and Compound V to contrast how both constraints obtained their powers. My original idea for the art was like Mighty where there is a smile, but we also see two eyes. One is All Might’s blue and the other is Homelander’s heat vision red eye. It would have included elements from Homelander’s cape (golden eagle holding down an American flag) but the flag shows the passing stars of One For All.
FINAL THOUGHTS AND WORDS:
I want to again mention that I considered All Might at his best, meaning All Might was analyzed when he was stronger than at the start of the series and doesn’t have his scars or a time limit on his form. I added the injuries and true form to the fight here because I think it would make for a great story when integrated well.
This has been one of my favorite MUs to work on. I love the MU itself, and I had a lot of ideas when writing this, not to mention I had some fun connecting it with my previous MHA VS The Boys MU where I tried to set up a story and crossover aspect. If I get more into Billy and Stain, maybe I’ll write something for that MU. Truthfully, I think this may have been my best suggestion thus far. While the creative juices flowed for Iida VS A-Train, they were a stream to this episode’s river of creative flow. I love my suggestions for Azula VS Cinder, Trunks VS The Luminary, Palpatine VS Xehanort, and Chaos VS Kyogre, but I genuinely believe that this suggestion is my best. I find it somewhat impressive because I wrote the ideas of what I wanted and the fight in just a few days, making it my fastest suggestion yet. I just took a lot of time to get it fully fleshed out because of my exams and to iron out some details.
I also genuinely believe that no matter what shape or form this MU takes, it has the potential to become one of the best episodes in DB!’s history.
IDEAS THAT I HAD:
1. Show All Might with a scowl like when villains invaded the USJ
2. Homelander attempts to kill civilians only for All Might to immediately stop him.
3. Homelander spreads panic and All Might spreads hope as they fight across the city.
4. Heat vision cuts off one of All Might’s limbs.
5. Homelander thought that flight could save him only for All Might to New Hampshire Smash into him and then knocking Homelander down with a California Smash or to launch pressurized winds.
6. Homelander’s super shout disorienting or even permanently deafening All Might
7. Homelander starts to have a breakdown as All Might refuses to give up and gains an advantage
8. “A Hero has so much to lose, I know you heard these words before, let me teach you what they mean, PLUS ULTRA!”
9. Homelander laughing evilly as he emerges victorious after using his heat vision vitality for victory. “I’m the Homelander, I do whatever the f*** I want” right before killing All Might.
10. MK1 clash reference
11. All Might lifting his left fist up when victorious
12. End up in Kamino
13. Deku and others try to intervene only for All Might to tell them to back away, and Homelander tries to hurt both of them
14. Homelander strikes All Might’s injuries, attempting to revert him to his true form in front of the public
15. The setup has us passing through a street covered in graffiti and propaganda, hearing a radio newscast or a TV broadcast like Leon S. Kennedy VS Frank West
THANK YOU AND I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS!
NEXT TIME…!
"Link start!” 
Kazuto has activated the Nerve Gear and he passed through the white tunnel and the colored neon streaks. He awoke standing in the middle of the Colinia arena in SAO where he fought Heathcliff. That was a long time ago. He looked in front of him and there stood his foe. He was wearing shades, black shirt and pants, black boots, and a sweet black coat like the first one he wore. Kirito thought that he looked like the protagonist of a movie that gave him deja vú… Both immediately make eye contact and walk towards the center of the arena, stopping within three meters from each other. Kirito opens the menu and sends a duel request. “Ready?” The man simply said, “Yeah.” and accepted the request. Kirito draws his swords and gets ready, and Neo enters a martial arts stance as the timer above them starts to count down.
3… 2… 1…
DUEL START/FIGHT!
Neo VS Kirito (The Matrix VS Sword Art Online) 
--------------------------------------------------
Wow... What an amazing fight. Honestly, I thought Homelander was going to win, though I desperately want All Might to win. Personally, I think All Might fighting post-AFO is a tough case to make, since Homelander is a pretty heavy hitter. Granted, All Might at his best came close against Might Guy while Homelander got easily stomped by Omniman. Overall, I like this fight, and I'm curious to see what comes next with THE ONE against KIRITO.
PS - YOU READY FOR NEXT WEEK?!
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bloodhoundluke · 1 year
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luke hemmings headcanons —❦ halloween
description: this is just a small collection of halloween things you’d do as a couple 🎃🧡
warnings: a few curse words, an illegal amount of fluff, a sexual hint. loosely written so might contain typos.
a/n: so this is my first headcanons post ever! hope you like it, and happy halloween to everyone who celebrates ❥ also, the cute little ghost dividers are by @silkholland & can be found here :)
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decorating the house
i don't think you'd go overboard with the decorations, tbh. you'd decorate the house in some spider web and pumpkin decorations, some halloween lanterns on the patio. some orange and yellow candles across the house. you'd put up some pumpkin and ghost string lights in the entryway of your house, and a decorative skeleton leaning against the entryway wall. and you both would startle everytime you came home (losers ❥).
and you'd go to the florist to get some halloween-y colored flowers to put in your kitchen and the living room. you'd take forever choosing which bouquets are the best. "do you think this is better? what about this one? oh no, this is cute as well! luke??? are you listening?". his only concern would be that you'd be happy with the choice, even if he had a favorite of his own. but then you'd persist and you'd propose he'd pick one and you'd pick the other. you'd pick one for the kitchen with orange and red roses, orange asiatic lilies and dried leaves. luke'd go for different shade of orange with lilies, roses and carnations for the fireplace in your living room.
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baking halloween treats
you’d bake something relatively easy or medium hard, not anything too complicated. you’d go for halloween cake pops, pumpkin cupcakes, caramel apples or spider web brownies for example. i don’t think gordon ramsay would be too impressed of your skills in the kitchen tbh (at least not luke’s, lmao). "luke you are not supposed to put that in yet! the dry ingredients are supposed to go in first". "are you serious?? oh my god have i ruined the whole thing? i definitely have, have i?". "we can fix it, lu. or at least i hope so". "i should not be allowed in the kitchen, jeez", he'd sigh dramatically and you'd giggle at his adorable reaction. "not if you can't read the instructions, baby", you'd kiss his cheek and later you'd offer some dough to him from your fingertips. "mmh, damn this is good though".
& you’d go to the nearest grocery store or bakery if you craved something you didn’t know how to make or were too scared to even attempt.
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halloween movie night
yeah you've watched a few halloween movies on singular nights after work etc. together, but you both wanted to have a marathon night. you could go for harry potter, coraline, hocus pocus, nightmare before christmas, etc., the classics. and if you were feeling wild, you'd go for a scary movie first. "lu i'm scared", you'd hide behind a blanket. "c'mere", he'd offer you his embrace and kiss your forehead. he'd wrap his arms tightly around you, and your head would rest against his chest, your hand around his waist. "are you scared?", you'd ask him. "no". "then why's your leg shaking?". "...cause it's numb". "right...". you'd joke about possibly being plagued by nightmares the following night, and as an attempt to avoid that, you'd end the night with some sappy and cute halloween movie. you’d also eat the halloween treats you made earlier and drink apple cider etc., while watching the movies. your living room would be candle lit and the couch would be filled with blankets and pillows, so it’d be extra cozy and homey. and of course petunia would beg for food, and you'd give her the dog halloween treats you bought from the store. then the pupper would happily go to sleep and start snoring in her own bed 🥺
and at some point during the night you’d hear the doorbell ring. it’d be little kids trick or treating. you’d give them a lot of snacks and gush about how cute they were afterwards. you’d melt because you love seeing luke with children, he is so extra attentive and lovable. (maybe some day you’ll have a toddler of your own running around the house in the cutest costume ever 🥹💞).
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carving pumpkins
you’d go to a pumpin patch together. you’d look for the perfect pumpkins, but they’d all be a bit off so you settle for some decent ones. (this would take at least 30 mins and then you both would get frustrated at the selection). you carve the pumpkins at home while listening to some halloween playlist. then you’d look at the final results. “this looks like shit”. “...look at mine” and somehow luke’s even worse. this would lead to a stupid amount of giggles. luke takes a picture of the carved pumpkins together and sends it to the boys whatsapp group. (they’d all think yours is better and luke would frown, following with a jokingful ”well fuckin’ obviously they think yours is better”.)
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dressing up
there’s no way luke would not want to have matching costumes… yeah you’re that annoyingly cute couple at the party that arrives in painfully matching set of costumes. mike, cal and ash would totally make fun of you being clingy and predictable, but secretly think you two are adorable. you’d pick something you both like, ranging from cute to sexy to actually scary costumes. you could be dressed as each other too. you’d pick whatever you feel like that year. i feel like you could go for a barbie theme this year and you could help him with his makeup and apply glitter in his eyelids etc 🥹 "is this okay?", you'd confirm luke about the makeup and he'd take a look at himself in the mirror. "it's perfect, darling". "..do you know what else is perfect?". "huh?". "your incapability to know that you have a boner...". "well it's not my fault you are so sexy, is it?", he'd smirk and the comment would be followed by a hot make out session.
and of course petunia would be dressed up as something like a pokemon, pig or a ghost!! ”i don’t she likes it very much, luke”, you’d giggle. ”oh mama here thinks you don’t like your costume. don’t you like it tuney?”, luke babbles and petunia responds with a grunt and goes to her sleeping nook. you both giggle at her grumpy reaction and how cute she looks.
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attending a halloween party
so first of all, you’d be super late. you don’t have the concept of time whatsoever. but all of your friends are used to it so they don’t really expect you two to be on time. you’d arrive to the party in your painfully matching costumes and mingle with people. then one halloween you’d win the prize for the best costume together. ”i told you we would win!”. ”luke….you told me we’d lose because our eyeliners weren’t matching enough…”. ”oh… did i? silly me!”.
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© 2023 bloodhoundluke.
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themelongum · 9 months
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jean being a bit jealous
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haven't posted in a while but wanted to leave this little piece here
multi-chaptered rating: explicit main pairings: eren/reader; jean/reader AU: college; band
Very few people sauntered within the university walls at an hour like this. It wouldn’t be anything out of the ordinary had it not been the day of the first baseball game this season. But it was; hence the confusion I felt, roaming around the halls like a stray puppy, trying to find my way.
At the touch of a hand rubbing my back up and down, I turned around and sighed in relief, seeing the warm gaze of Mikasa’s gray eyes and a subtle smile on her lips.
“Hey,” she said in a soft voice. “You’re a little bit lost, aren’t you?”
“Oh, hi. Thank god I’ve found someone.” I put my right arm behind her back, giving her a quick hug. “Is it written on my face? Because you’re right.” I laughed.
“Uhm, no. Honestly, you were just walking in the wrong direction.”
Dumbass.
“Have you been here since the morning?” I asked as she guided me to the right path.
“Yes… But I had a break for the last two periods. Just thought it’s not worth going to the dorm only to go back here again.” She shrugged her shoulders.
“Makes sense. What about the rest? Have you seen anyone else? I hope Sasha didn’t forget.” I chuckled, and she joined in, too.
“She would never. It’s not classes we’re talking about.” She smiled, sending me a certain look. “Everyone’s gathering outside. I think the team—”
In this instant, the door on our left opened, and out came Reiner, almost knocking me off my feet as his broad chest collided with my body.
“Oh, hey! Sorry, didn’t want to scare you,” he said, gripping my shoulders to steady the both of us after the sudden encounter. “Hi, Mikasa.”
“You’re fine. I’ll just be sure not to walk near the walls here.” I chuckled as Jean appeared in the hallway too. His gaze slid from my face to my shoulders just before Reiner could take his hands off.
“Oi, Reiner! Save your strength for the field,” he said, putting his hand on Reiner’s shoulder. “You’re sure you’re not hurt?” He fixed his eyes on me with a serious expression.
“No, I’m fine—”
“You were just meant to fall into my arms. It’s a sign.” A cheeky grin tugged at the corners of Reiner’s mouth as he crossed his arms over his chest. My own lips involuntarily formed a shy smile, and I felt my cheeks getting a bit warmer.
“She didn’t fall though,” Mikasa noted gravely, scanning the guy with a bored gaze.
“Yeah, Reiner, cut the crap—” Jean began speaking, pushing the guy further into the hallway and taking his place, before their teammates burst into the hall, cutting him off with their loud laughter.
While some headed straight down the hallway, Connie, Marco, and Bertholdt stopped with us, saying hi. Only then did my eye catch their uniform and how good they all looked in it. Although, if I had to pick one, I would have to say Jean’s was the most fitted.
After a short while, one more person entered the hall. Adjusting his cap, Eren glanced over at the boys before raising his brows slightly. He flicked his gaze from Mikasa to me, and then from me to Mikasa again. Finally, he looked away, only throwing a few words for the guys to follow.
“I’ll be right back,” Mikasa said to me in an undertone before rushing off in the same direction.
As I watched her go, it hadn’t registered with me at once that the corridor was now empty, except for a certain boy, whose eyes were already on me when I turned to him. “Aren’t you supposed to go, too?”
“Didn’t want to leave without hearing a ‘good luck’ from you.” Jean smiled, and his hazel eyes seemed warmer in color when they crinkled. “You know, Reiner was saying a bunch of bullshit earlier, but I have a feeling that it’s a good sign I met you before the game. You’re gonna bring us a win.”
“No, don’t say that! You’re putting too much weight on my shoulders. Now, if you lose, it will all be my fault.”
“So you think we’ll lose?” He raised a brow, leading the way towards the exit.
“No, I— It’s not what I wanted to say, you know it. Besides, the glorious pitcher can’t lose.” I chuckled.
“I told you not to call me that,” he said, averting his eyes as we stepped outside.
Halting at the sight of a baseball field, I turned to Jean in an attempt to catch his gaze, and when I finally did, the words left my mouth with the most sincere intent. “Good luck, Jean.”
read the whole thing here or here
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