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this-is-all-unreal · 1 year

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My Dear Friend

Part 2

Part 1 and summary here⬇️

"Look what you've done. We could be dead right now all because why? You couldn't keep your stupid mouth shut!" I heard his voice echoing in the inside of my skull as I woke up. He was always so noisy when I was trying to sleep. I wiggle my hands and feet making sure I could move them before I opened my eyes. I was somewhere dark, damp, and cold. I let out a murmur as I try to get my eyes to focus. I wasn't in Arkham unless they decided to add a cave wing. That's what it was. I was in a cave but how?

I shook my head trying to shake off this fog my head was in. "Run run! Someone is watching. They are gonna-"

"Stop yelling! I hear you!" I shouted back at my noisy friend. When I yelled I heard bats out of sight flap their wings and squeak. It's then I realized I was on a cot of some kind. I sit up quickly. I was still In my sweatsuit that was handed out at Arkham but my sleeve was rolled up and I had a small bandage in the crease of my arm.

"It was the lunatic in the bat pajamas. I saw him. He took your blood Margaret, he's up to something."

"Just relax Felix. You're sounding crazy." I say as I use the cot to help me to my feet.

"Who's Felix?" I almost jumped out of my skin when he spoke. I looked around and finally saw a tall figure step out of the shadows. It was Batman.

"A friend. Where am I?" I ask as I manage to stand straight but as soon as I let go of the cot I wobble and fall right back on it.

"Just relax. You fell asleep in the car. Do you want to tell me why you were in Arkham? Or more importantly why that man was so desperate to keep you there?" He asked as he came a bit closer. He was lying I didn't fall asleep. He put something in the mask. I wasn't about to argue with the Dark Knight though. I know he's human but that doesn't make me any less afraid of him.

"If I tell you, you have to promise not to take me back. I'm gonna sound crazy but I'm not, I'm really not. Just pinky promise me." I say looking up at him. He stands there for what feels like forever before he sticks out his gloved pinky to me. I hook mine around his quickly and let go. "Okay my friend who I mentioned earlier told me the director was performing experiments on patients at Arkham. A-and my friend is really good at stopping bad stuff from happening if I let him so I took him to the directors office and asked him to stop what he was doing or something really bad would happen to him." I spoke as quickly and clearly as I possibly could. Even though I wasn't in Arkham I still felt like he could hear me. Batman stood there for a while. Motionless, his face never changed.

"Where is your friend now? How do I get a hold of them?" He asked in an even tone. How calm he was almost made me want to relax a little.

I shook my head.

"That's the part you won't believe. He's not really a person… Well that sounds bad. He's a person but-" batman cut me off

"But I can't see or hear him."

"Yes yes! You totally don't believe me do you? Okay look I can prove it." I say almost frantically. Batman still didn't move, his face still had the same expression. "Felix, can you show Batman you are real? It doesn't have to be anything huge, just something." I ask as I look around.

"You can't see him either? How do you know he's even here?" Batman asked.

"Oh trust me I can just tell. He's here somewhere." I say still searching the top of the cave in hopes I'll catch a glimpse of something. After a few moments I sigh. "He's messing with me. Sometimes he likes to-" as I spoke I saw the pillow on the cot lift up slowly before being tossed at Batman who catches it in one hand. He seemed unphased. The blanket slowly pulls itself off the cot and seems to fling itself over Batman's head. He takes it off of himself and looks at me.

"How did he know the director was performing experiments?" Batman asked as if nothing just happened. I was shocked for a second but I guess I shouldn't be surprised. He probably sees all kinds of stuff on the streets of Gotham.

"Well he just hears things. Like secrets, stuff people shouldn't hear. Then he tells me and they have to know about them. Normally he tells me things and I don't say anything but this was serious. People were getting hurt. I wanted to help and Felix said he could help. But I knew better than to believe him so I told him we should give the director a chance to stop before I let Felix handle it." I stop to take a deep breath. He nodded for me to continue like he could tell there was more I wasn't saying. "Felix wanted to kill him. I wouldn't let him so he got mad and tried to teach me a lesson." As I say this the pillow still in Batman's hand gets yanked loose and thrown across the room and again Batman doesn't even bat an eye at Felix's antics.

"So your friend let you get admitted into Arkham to show you, you should have let him kill the man?" I nod sheepishly as a crash is heard somewhere In the cave. I jumped but I knew it was Felix.

"They were giving me a lot of drugs. I think one of them weakened him. By the time things got really dangerous Felix wasn't able to help all that much. A broken glass, or a shove here or there was really all he could do."

"And now?" Batman asked as he finally pulled his eyes from me to slowly scan the darkness behind me.

"Now he's normal old Felix again." I say softly.

"No one looked for you? How long were you there?"

"No idea. A while I think. And no, no one was looking for me. I'm not from Gotham. I was in a few foster homes but it's hard with someone like Felix around. He can be a little aggressive." I say, shuffling on the cott. I pulled my sleeve down then remembered he took my blood. "And why did you need my blood?" I ask looking up at him. He didn't answer. He turned and walked down some stairs as he walked more of the cave was lit up. I saw a giant penny and a few different kinds of batman suits. He walked over to a big computer looking thing and sat down. I tried to stand again this time gaining more ground. I slowly walked my way down the stairs and stood behind him.

"The gas the Scarecrow dosed you with causes delirium and hallucinations. It can give his victims a heart attack if not treated quickly. At first I thought maybe you didn't inhale enough to be affected but the blood work shows you got 3 times a normal dose. You shouldn't be standing let alone speaking right now." He says as he pulled up a bunch of numbers and graphs I didn't understand. I shrug my shoulders.

"I don't know, maybe I got lucky. Could it have been a bad batch?" I say as I grab the back of his chair to take some weight off my legs. He didn't seem satisfied with the answer. He typed and read for a while as I stood there. I looked around for a seat, still feeling weak and tired. I see the cott and started to walk my way back to it. Climbing the stairs was a much bigger task than going down them. I sit at the base of the stairs and huff.

"Don't go far. " He says over his shoulder. I don't think me wondering around is a very realistic fear right now. I lay down on the step and put my head on my hand as a cushion. The pillow Felix threw started to slowly drag itself back to me. I take it and put it under my head.

"Thanks" I whisper as I close my eyes. I could have fallen asleep if it wasn't for the coldness of the stone step I was laying on. Felix started to speak to me about something involving a rich man living a double life. I do my best not to listen to his ramblings.

"He doesn't plan to let us go." This made my eyes pop open. It was a silly thing to worry about. I mean he was Batman he had to let me go at some point. I sat up and looked at him still working.

"If you don't mind, can you drop me off outside of city limits? If I never see Gotham again it will be too soon." I joke.

"You can't leave yet. The director knows your name, your face. No telling what a desperate man would do to keep his secrets. It's best if you stay here for a little longer." He says not looking back at me. It was reasonable enough but I was getting antsy just sitting and Felix wasn't helping.

"If there is one thing Felix is good at, it's keeping me alive. He won't make the same mistake twice. We will leave town. I want to leave, please?" I say as I stand up. He didn't seem to react.

"Go and lay down on the cott I'll wake you up when I'm all set." He says still not moving from his seat. I look at the cott and sigh. I could use a nap. I start my very slow climb. I could feel Felix keeping me up right as I walked. I made it to the cott and as soon as I layed down I shut my eyes. I felt a blanket be pulled over me which was all I needed to fall asleep again.

— Bruce didn't know what to make of this strange girl. She seems harmless one minute then she says something that makes him wonder. He used some connections and asked around about a girl matching her description going missing from the system. Only one girl matched. Margaret Arthur. Parents died in a fire when she was an infant and was placed with a family who kept her for almost 10 years before relinquishing guardianship without explanation. Since then she has been in 5 homes in the past 3 years all ended the fostering period early never giving a reason.

Bruce made a few calls asking around. He knew what he had to do. He could tell she was good just needed some help. He had all the resources in the world to give her. He knew once he explained it to Dick and Jason they would be on board. He had to adopt her. She left for a few more hours which gave him some time to call his lawyers and the adoption agency. He has the story all worked out and who wouldn't believe Bruce Wayne. —

I woke up again this time with a headache and a growling stomach. I sat up and looked around. I stood up without issue now and walked to the stairs. The lights lit up the lower floor but I couldn't see Batman anywhere.

"Hello? Anyone here?" I say as I walk a little deeper. He has alot of souvenirs it seemed. I saw a mask that looked just like Scarecrows. I thought it was odd he kept these things. It made me wonder if Batman was scared of anything. He keeps all these freaky things in a poorly lit cave how does he not get creeped out.

"I'll look for an exit" I agreed and continued my stroll in this dank cave until I came to a much longer staircase. "Up here I found a way out" I walked up them carefully. I couldn't see an exit just more steps till finally I heard a creaking sound and a hatch opened slowly. Light flooded the steps as the door opened wider. Once my eyes adjusted I saw a fancy looking officer. The windows were as tall as the walls and the desk was huge. "I think I broke the lock. Think he'll be mad?" I looked back at the spot I came from. It was a grandfather clock that was mounted to the wall to hide the entrance. Part of the wall was cracked around the deadbolts. "We are in his house I think." I say as I carefully close the door. I could hear voices speaking down the hall coming this way. I panicked and ran behind the desk and hid under it. Once the coast was clear I planned to look for a way out. The voices came closer till I could tell they were in the room with me.

#dc comics #platonic batman #batman #slight yandere #oc stuff #bruce wayne #fanfic

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holy-disaster · 2 years

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♡Let me take care of you♡

Genre: ♡fluff♡

Summary: Marc was the type to always get hurt. Luckily he has you to take care of him.

Matchup: Marc Spector x reader (mentions of Steven Grant/Jake Lockley x reader)

Marc always gets hurt.

Mostly physically, but also emotionally. Everything seems so dull in his life, or like it's trying to kill him. It tires him out, makes him paranoid, and messes with him in so many ways.

At least there's you.

His best friend, his wife, and most importantly his one and only.

He could never get enough of you, always so kinda and forgiving. You never left his side unless needed to, but that was rare. You were always his little helper. He would even take you on less risky missions when you were okay with it.

He always loves the way you act around him. It was like you never judged him, because to you he was perfect. His personality, his boldness, his alters, but those eyes- you could never get enough of them. You could get lost in the dark chocolate and brown swirls. Even a hint of gold in them.

The way he looked at you, with those warm doughy eyes. Or Steven's puppy eyes, even Jake's lustful eyes. But Marc he was the first, he fell in love with you first, met you first, and befriended you first. He was your first everything from the very beginning.

Yes, he did have a marriage before you but this was different. You know almost everything about him, sense you were childhood friends.

It does seem silly, a little fantasy. Started out as best friend nothing more then that. As a kid, you thought dating Marc was a nightmare itself. So did he. But slowly growing together and being there for one another changed everything. Layla was his first love of course, and that was okay. Because after the divorce and some time alone as Moonknight and talking it out with Steven and Jake it made sense.

He didnt move on right away but aloud time to pass on before he made sure he was okay with it, if he was prepared to love again or to have the feeling of love pushed to him.

But he saw a small problem.

It was hard to set dates and plans together at the beginning.

His work that he did for Khonshu was hard, and it took a large toll on his body. He would come back home bruised up, bandaged, or even in a frantic state. So late at night that you lost sleep. You did let that get in the way of your relationship, so you took the job to look after him, his personal nurse is what he calls it.

"Sweetheart, I'm fine" is what he always says whenever you try to help him in his painful state. "I find it sort of humiliating that I cant even take care of myself" he gives off a nervous stare.

"Marc, let me take care of you. I love you so much and I hate seeing you in this state. Do you ever think before getting into a dangerous situation?"

This made him chuckle and give you a kiss on the cheek. "This is why I love you so much. You always take so good care of me, like seriously how did I get so lucky, I even have my own personal nurse! How cool is that"

You could hear a bit of Steven and Marc mixed into that.

"Hold still okay? I'm ganna clean these wounds. And I promise you it will sting" he nodded his head and gave a small smile. He didnt mind. He likes pain anyways.

He loved how you cared for him like this.

He also loved how you didnt just leave him alone whenever he gets angry, sad, or annoyed. Whenever he would go on about his past over and over again, and everytime you stayed and listened. Every time he would blame himself for the things that had happened in his life. The things he could never accomplish or be able to give to you. A better life, were you dont worry about when you husband will come home. If he will be alive or dead the next time you see him.

That sounds like a horrible life. He was surprised you even stayed this long.

He always says you could "do better" but everything you have ever wanted was Marc. The person you hold dearest in your heart.

You never leave him when hes angry at himself. And whenever talking or reassurance doesn't work you wouldn't give up. Instead you would sit there or lay there on him or close to him. Wait for him to calm down and try to small talk. It never bothered you, because you knew deep down Marc was troubled.

A kid that needed saving from his past and you would give up everything for him and his alters. You loved them all.

He found it humiliating sometimes. When he would come home and needed comfort. Not in a bad way though. It was humiliating because he knew if he cant take care of himself, how will he ever take care of you?

That didnt stop you from loving him. That didnt stop him from loving you, and his alters also had a thing for you.

But every once in a while. He would reject the suits healing powers. Just so he could have you to take care of him. You delicate hands being careful not to hurt him. Your concentration. And most of all you small praises whenever he would sit still.

You are his everything. And he would do anything to make you happy

-----------------

Hiiiiii, disaster here. I'm really getting into writing now! Maybe I'll do more in the future. I'll be more then happy to do request too! I also hope that my writing skill get better and that I can write longer stories to keep you peepz entertained. I'll try to upload new thing every other day or every 2 days. If you haven't read much first story please do!!!

Anyways thanks for reading and please show your support! Bye bye~♡

#romance tropes #marc spector angst #moonknight angst #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector #moon knight #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant #steven x reader #steven grant angst #steven with a v #moon knight fanfiction #jake lockely x you #jake lockely x reader #jake lockley

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ventitititi · 1 year

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I told the stars about you

Chap.3 of they made you a weapon and told you to find peace!!

Wc:2.5k

A/n: this was literally done like 2 weeks ago and posted to ao3 but then i got lazy lol, its also now gay bc i changed my mind about keeping it platonic

Prev || next || m.list

He sat up in an unfamiliar room, traditional liyuen furniture being the bulk of the decor. The scent of sandalwood and silk flowers clung to the blankets bunched around his waist.

In fact, the scent seemed to linger in the unfamiliar room in general. He blinked slowly, the hairs rising on the back of his neck as he slowly became more aware of his current situation.

His torso was bare, he noted grimly. But something a little odder were the slightly too long pyjama pants he was wearing, and the bandages on his hands. He'd expected to be a hostage of some sort, given his rank, but the accommodations were a tad too nice for that.

He set his bare feet into the thick fluff of an ornate rug, hues of brown and umber peeking between his toes. He stood with a stretch, a small groan escaping his lips. Archons, he'd really needed that.

He heard a clatter followed by the sound of a shattering dish, whipping around to see zhongli in the doorway, teacup long forgotten as he rushed over in an uncharacteristic display of worry.

The taller man was speaking, he noted, but he was frozen where he stood. Zhongli too was shirtless. Lounge wear he hadn't thought the ex-archon would own clearly adorning him in a soft shade of green.

He could feel the tips of his ears heating, and tore his gaze from the other's toned stomach, clearing his throat. "Uhm, sorry xiansheng, but could you repeat that?"

Zhongli furrowed a brow, as if surprised he hadn't been heard. His lip bore the marks of being worried at, and when he began to speak Childe was sure to focus on listening instead of the beauty before him.

"We were out, and then you shredded a lawachurl before collapsing and i didn't know what to do so i just took you back to my home so I could take care of you. I was unsure if those were repercussions from using your abyssal magic but I couldn't just leave you there so…"

He sounded worried, a tone he never expected to hear from rex lapis of all people, (beings?). He shook his head, smiling at his friend. "Zhongli, I'm fine. It was nothing important, I promise."

The man in front of him didn't look like he believed him in the slightest. In fact, he worried Zhongli may try to hold him hostage until his 'injuries' healed.

Before he could speak again to try and soothe him further, zhongli was already sighing through his nose. "I can't say I believe you'd faint from nothing, childe. But i will trust that your condition is stable, unless you prove to me otherwise."

He nodded along, brushing back ginger locks and looking at the ceiling while processing zhongli's words. "Alright, xiansheng, but would you mind if I at least helped clean up that cup?"

Zhongli startled, a faint blush dusting his features. So he had forgotten he'd dropped a cup, then. Childe chuckled at him, already carefully picking up the shards.

He followed the taller man into a small kitchen, promptly dumping the shards into the trash and brushing off his hands at a job well done. "Well zhongli-xiansheng, unless you plan to feed me, I'm afraid I need to go."

Zhongli was already fretting over him the moment he tried to claim he'd be leaving. "Of course I'm feeding you, childe. You're still injured."

Before childe could retort at the others' excessive kindness, a bowl of something hot was being portioned for them both. It was thick and white, looking somewhat similar to porridge, if it also had chicken and something else he didn't know in it.

He was swiftly seated at a table low to the ground, kneeling on a thin red cushion with simple embroidery on it. The bowl was placed before him with a peculiar ivory spoon. A cup of green tea was also set before him, the cup itself appearing to have come in a set with his bowl.

Zhongli quickly took a seat across from him, sipping his at tea and raising his brows at childe as if to say, "well? What are you waiting for?"

Childe shrugged, mumbling his thanks before trying a tentative bite of his meal. It was good. A similar texture to porridge with a mild flavour, almost akin to chicken soup. He smiled at Zhongli, "it's delicious! Who knew you'd be able to cook so well, xiansheng?"

The other man's ears were clearly flushed, a hand covering the lower half of his face. "It's not that impressive childe, after all I've had centuries to practise it."

Childe shrugged once more, personally, knowing that the adepti didn't necessarily need to eat made it seem all that much more impressive. Zhongli was embarrassed enough as it is though, evidenced by his uncharacteristic inability to stop fidgeting in his seat.

He brushed his friend off, digging into the meal properly and only pausing to sip his tea on occasion, zhongli doing the same once he was certain childe enjoyed it.

The meal was silent, which was odd given zhongli's love of sharing his knowledge and tales from times long past. When he'd finished his bowl, he leaned back to rub his stomach in satisfaction. Zhongli collected the bowls, dumping them unceremoniously into the sick (and given how precious childe suspected them to be, he winced a bit at the clattering sound they made.)

Zhongli was swiftly back, hands in his lap and staring into space. He shook his head after a few moments, unbound hair falling over his shoulders in soft shades of umber.

"Would you mind staying another night, Childe? I fear I won't be able to rest properly if I cannot ascertain you are, indeed, fine."

He was sitting still, poised as if this were any other day, in contrast to both his attire (or lack thereof,) and his earlier behaviour. Childe nodded after a few moments, he had nothing to do for a while anyways. Ekaterina could take care of the small things in his absence.

"Alright, I'm not too busy right now. And well… the company is rather pleasant."

Now he was just teasing his friend, alas it did not seem to have much of an effect. It seems Zhongli had collected himself once more, back to his usual calm self.

Zhongli smiled at him, "I feel the same about you. Granted, I'd enjoy our time together much more if I wasn't worried about you fainting at any moment."

Childe shook his head at his friend's tendency to over think his safety, chalked up to his mortality. He's much more durable than the average person, thank you very much.

He chuckled anyways in an attempt to keep the mood light, "I'll be alright, maybe a little stir crazy from being cooped up by the end but nothing serious."

Zhongli nodded, "it's just a precaution, you're free to leave if my request is too overbearing, I'm sure it may be as someone who's merely a distant friend."

Childe actually laughed at that one, full bellied and genuine. "Zhongli, I think of you as my closest friend in this land so far from my home. The closest thing to family I have out here, if you will."

Zhongli's eyes widened a bit but nothing more, a composed expression to those who weren't familiar with zhongli's subtle differences. It appeared he'd been shocked by childe's words, though he slowly nodded his head. "I think of you as a dear friend, too. I just worried I'd be overstepping your boundaries if I tried to impose such a thing on you when we've only recently reconciled."

Leave it to this stubborn old rock to get it into his had that childe could ever hate him. Such a thought felt wrong, even. So foreign and far from the truth he struggled to even imagine it. Sure, he hadn't wanted to talk to zhongli for awhile, but it's because he had been angry, had felt betrayed and needed to calm down before even trying to talk to the other, lest he worsen the situation. (This was what Ekaterina had said, anyways.)

Thank goodness for his secretary, as it stands their relationship was much easier repaired when childe could actually speak to Zhongli without either questioning his friends honesty or trying to hurt him in the same way he'd been hurt.

And for the record, zhongli had seemed to be overly guilt ridden. He'd shown up with his hair out of place and his tie half-done. At that time especially, childe couldn't even begin to imagine what it would take to ruffle the man. He'd even brought an apology gift, a pair of chopsticks with gorgeous detailing of a dragon and phoenix.

He used those same chopsticks everyday now, keeping to his promise to try and improve his skill with the darned sticks. (It wasn't going very well.)

His laughter died down, though his smile was still in place when he spoke again, "Zhongli, I don't i could ever truly hate you. I had been angry and hurt, but never could I bring myself to feel something so malicious towards you."

Zhonglis face softened, a small smile tugging at his lips and cor-lapis eyes glowing faintly, same as the tips of his hair. "I think I couldn't bring myself to hate you either, childe. You've been a joy to know and continue to teach me more about life as a mortal everyday."

His tone was so soft and indulgent that childe didn't have the heart to inform him that he most definitely was not normal. As evidenced by his fathers words, spoken in fear so long ago.

For a snezhnayan it takes much to turn on one's family, and he himself still returned as much as possible because, ignoring his fathers betrayal, he still loved them dearly.

Regardless, a soft pink crept up his cheeks and ears, grateful the archon was too busy gazing into his cup to notice the flush. Childe cleared his throat to gain his friend's attention, which was Swiftly provided with a chirping sound he wasn't quite sure a human could even make.

"Well, since I'm here xiansheng, would you care to tell me about something from your youth?"

Zhongli hummed, "Though my memory is near perfect, that was still very long ago. Are you sure you wish to hear of the land that is now so long lost there's hardly any resemblance to it in the current liyue?"

Childe nodded enthusiastically, not feeling the need to voice his wishes to the older man. Zhongli chuckled, humming to himself with his eyes closed. The tune itself seemed to have come from a long lost nation, unfamiliar and carrying a different sound from any music he'd heard in the modern day.

"Well," began Zhongli, opening his eyes to gaze out the window of his apartment, "in my youth, the exuvia were still abundant and were largely the ones who held authority in this land."

Childe listened to zhongli's tales of old, of a liyue with mountains much different and entire islands not even in existence yet. He heard some songs zhongli sang that he'd enjoyed as a child, the language so different from modern liyuen it was a wonder they shared any ties at all aside from the tones.

He was told of how the exuvia cared for their young, a sombre and solitary existence for the most part. Kicked from the nest after the first 10 years of their life, just barely enough for them to have matured enough to care for themselves.

Zhongli shared of adventurers long since dead, who'd walked across mountains and plains and every other terrain imaginable just to see an exuvia, which were so commonly seen in the sky over what was now liyue that the ancestors of the current population wouldn't have paid it any mind.

He was also told a fair few poems, a subject childe was certain zhongli thoroughly enjoyed. He also learned of plants that were now extinct, a thought he found fascinating.

In all, zhongli wove his tales until late, honeyed voice carrying on without pause or signs of strain. By the time zhongli had finished, childe had fallen asleep, head on his arms which were folded across his low table.

A fond chuckle escaped the exuvia before he could stop himself, resting a cheek on his palm to watch the ginger sleep. He watched him with a fond gaze for a while before he tapped on childe's shoulder, not wanting his friend to wake up with an aching back.

Childe jolted into awareness, eyes quickly around the room in search of a threat before they settled on zhongli and he breathed out with relief. "You scared me."

It was a simple statement, and Zhongli seemed sorry for his actions. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't sore when you get up in the morning, my apologies."

Childe waved a hand, brushing off his formal apology as if it weren't necessary. His ocean hues slid over to the window, lingering on the stars that could be seen outside. "You know zhongli, when I was young I loved the stars. I often drew myself gathering them from the sky or other such fantastical tales for my mother, who's skirt I'd seldom stray from."

He chuckled softly, voice still thick with sleep and a red mark on his cheek from his arm. "Back in Snezhnaya, the constellations are visible almost year round. Instead of choosing the visible constellation for a child, they're assigned by which is brightest at the time of birth. After all, even a constellation can't shine it's brightest forever."

Zhongli was watching the sky outside, eyes tracking stars and searching for constellations long gone. He hummed in acknowledgement of his friend's words, mulling over his response carefully.

"My own constellation, my original one from birth, is long since gone. It died out a few millennia ago, and since I've struggled to even remember my own birthday, an affair i deemed too trivial for an archon."

Childe wasn't surprised in the slightest, when he thought about it. For millennia, rex lapis had governed and defended liyue with little help. He had formed the very landscapes childe had grown so fond of with his own two hands, sculpted the peaks with great care and laid the plains with an eye for detail.

He smiled at zhongli anyways, "then we can just pick a new one for you."

Zhongli stared at him for a moment, likely to process his words as childe lounged in the dark room. "I suppose that is correct, I shall put some thought to it."

Leave it to the old man to think so seriously about when he'd like to celebrate his birth, rather than picking randomly from a season he liked. Idly, he pondered over Zhongli's true age, remembering Zhongli had once confided that even he couldn't remember, had calculated it by the earliest times he has more consistent memories from.

He hummed, watching zhongli star gaze absently. Whenever he chose, childe was certain the stars would bless that day. The ex-archon had suffered enough during his lifetime, a little bit of good never hurt anything.

#zhongchi #genshin childe #genshin zhongli #genshin stuff #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact zhongchi #genshin impact fic #genshin impact fluff

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quellmythirst · 2 years

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House Hunting Part 19

Summary: You FINALLY talk to Frankie and he reveals some new information.

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Billy Russo

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: Revelations, swearing, posturing.

AN: I love you all for reading this, I love these pair.

Part 18

You called Frank the next day, Billy tried to insist that he should do it. That he should be the one to call him, but you knew your father wouldn’t answer. The only way he was picking up was if you rang. Your conversation with him was short, but after some convincing that, no you didn't need to meet him alone, no Billy wasn’t going to shoot him on sight and yes, it was going to be a peaceful discussion. That was a hardline for you. You made him swear that nothing bad was going to happen to you and Billy if you invited him over, that you just wanted to talk to him and that it was important that he came with a clear head. You warned him that the moment you thought things were going to get violent, that this would be your last conversation. He would never hear or see you again, you meant it too. He didn’t sound pleased with your terms but agreed none the less.

You have all Billy’s bandages laid out on the coffee table. You only needed to change those around his stomach at the moment. When you finished with those, you moved to sit on his lap, applying the alcohol gel to your cotton swaps and cleaning his cuts that where slowly healing. You wanted to have the bruises and scrapes covered up by Billy's clothes, hoping that if maybe you hid the marks it would somehow hide the tension in the room.

The loud knock on your door drew your attention from Billy's strong hands on your ass and his lips on your neck, “He's here,” you said, shooting up and throwing the blanket over the tent growing in Billy's sweatpants. He groaned at the loss of you, his hands reaching out to pull you back down. "Tea would help, right?" you stepped out of his reach, taking a deep breath your steps are slow and cautious, looking over your shoulder you look for reassurance from Billy, “You positive he isn't gunna kill you?”

“No, but he should've had time to calm down now and you did tell him that you’d never speak to him again if he did. Just get the door,” he smiled at you, throwing the blanket off himself. You watched as he adjusted himself before limping over to the kitchen to grab mugs for your tea.

With your hands trembling, thoughts spinning and nerves almost totally taking over you take a deep breath and open the door. There he was, your father. He looked the same as always, a looming presence that commanded respect. But he was so different, his shoulders hunched over, his eyes almost in tears, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand and an apology written all over his face.

“Hey kiddo,” he said looking up at you, noticing the small marks that were almost healed on your face, his hand gently grazing along them, “I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you,”

“Are you going to kill him if I let you in?” you asked, stepping back from his reach. You weren’t quite sure you were ready for that kind of contact yet.

“Not unless you want me to,” he said, attempting poorly to make a joke. The only person who laughed was Billy, his eyes rolling back as he chuckled to himself while taking his seat on the couch and putting your tea on the table.

“No,” you said sternly, “I do not,” He walked forwards, his arms out like he wanted to bring you into one of his famous bear hugs. But you stepped back, giving him room to come inside. Your hand out gesturing for him to take the chair opposite the couch. “Tea?” you asked him and he nodded. You watched both he and Billy cautiously eye each other over the coffee table, as you poured Frank his own mug. Neither of them said anything, instead opting to wait for you to begin the proceedings. You set Frank's cup in front of him, taking your own seat next to Billy. Your father narrowed his eyes at the sight, but true to his word he said nothing, the silence looming heavy in the room as you thought of how to Segway into this. You hadn’t told him what the meeting was about, just that it was important and couldn’t wait.

“There is something we needed to talk to you about,” you said, picking up your mug to give your hands something to do other than cling to Billy, which is exactly what you wanted to do.

“You're pregnant,” Frank deadpans, glaring even harder at Billy, taking his own tea in his hands.

“What?! No!” you begin to protest, “And even if I was-” you’re cut off by Billy, his hand patting gently on your thigh, before leaning down with his elbows on his knees.

“Its Rawlins,” Billy said, you heard Frank audibly gasp, “He’s the one who sent those men after us,”

“That old fuck?” he shook his head in disbelief, “Haven’t heard from him in ages. Did-” he pauses his eyes darting between you and Billy, “Did you get my daughter involved with that fucking sick freak?” he said, beginning to rise from his seat.

“Pa,” you said, lifting a placating hand up to him. You can see the fight in his eyes, but he must think better of it. Picking up his tea and deciding to ignore Billy and focus his attention on you.

“Kiddo, I haven't heard from him in years, why would I? Why is he even after you?” He asked his eyes, focusing in anger and realisation at Billy, “you're still working for him,” he states.

“Yes and no,” Billy answered, “It's only been once a year, for the last few years. I stopped working for him all the time since I started the company. But I need a way out Frankie. It's different now, before-” he looks at you, adoration and love in his eyes,”-I’ve never had anything to lose before Frankie,” he took your hand, stroking his fingers over yours, “I want a way out”

“Why? Why do you suddenly want to change?” Frank accused.

“Her,” he cupped your face, those deep brown eyes staring into yours, “You changed everything,” he said to you more than Frank. Frank's eyes widened as realisation that Billy was telling the truth dawned on his face. A defeated sigh caused him to rest a bit more comfortably in his chair. The both of you drawn out of the spell you had cast over the other to stare back at him as he took a sip of his tea, placing it on the table and leaning forward with his head in his hands.

“Why do you need my help?,” Frank asked reluctantly, sitting back into his chair to watch the two of you.

“I can’t do this alone and the number of people of I trust in this city in dwindling by the day,”

“And you think you can trust me? After what you’ve done-” he paused, his eyes falling on you, “What you continue to do to my family,”

“I trust you to do what's best for her,” Billy said, staring him in the eyes until they became locked in a staring contest with the other. You had seen them do this before, the weird as fuck brotherly link they shared. Reading each other for lies as the conversation continued, “She won’t be safe until he’s dealt with,”

“Or she leaves you,” Frank snipped and you gave him a warning look. He recedes nodding his head at you, “So what then? Rawlins is pissed he's losing his best murderer?”

“Probably,” you shrugged, Billy had informed you of his dealings with Rawlins and to say you were surprised would be a lie. You’d seen the files, you knew he had been into something dodgy and honestly you were kinda relieved it wasn't trafficking.

“You plan on confronting him?” Frank asked, his eyes focusing on the ceiling, while he thought all of this over.

“Yep that's why I need you, I can't do this without you Frankie,” Billy confessed, his eyes pleading with Frank, "There's no one else, nobody else who would fight just as hard to keep her safe."

“She stays here,” Frank said, pointing at you. Did he just? Did he agree?

“No,” you shouted, standing up in protest. How could they leave you behind? You had proven yourself more than useful on one occasion.

“YES,” they both say in unison.

“Like fuck I am, I'm coming,” you started to pace around the living room, “This started because of me. I’ll be fucked if I miss out on seeing this guy dead.” You stop an idea popping into your idea, maybe one they could agree on? “Erica can come with me and keep me outa trouble,”

“Will you listen to me? Run when I say not like last time,” Billy raised his brow at you before shooting an accusatory look at Frank. Your eyes fell knowing exactly what happened the last time you didn't run when he said to.

“I'm sure Erica will make me,” you said, “she’s good at following orders and better she's good at steering me in the right direction,” Billy knew your where right.

“Ugh, fine,” Billy relented, you could tell your father wanted to protest. But he didn't want to push his luck, to worried that if he pushed to hard again. He'd push you right out of the door.

"We'll need more men," Frank said, you could see his eyes flick as he went over numbers in his head.

"I'll get a squad together and arrange a meeting. Ill call you with the details,"

"Rawlins will love that, you organising your own assassination. He'll even turn up to do the job himself," Frank stood, feeling that the conversation was over he began to head towards the door before your arm shot out.

"Hey pa, there was something I wanted to ask," you said as he turned to face you.

"Sure kiddo, what is it?"

'How did you find that file?"

"Mirco got a lead from a website, found them in a warehouse on the other side of the city, they were just sitting on the desk like someone wanted me to find them,"

"So, someone did set us up," you said, turning to Billy.

"Seems like," Billy shrugged, "where was this exactly? Do you remember?"

"Course I remember, ain't no forgetting that. It was in Brooklyn, 56 West and 22nd Street." Frank said as Billy's eyes calculated where that was. And you thought about who in Brooklyn could possibly have it out for you.

"Are you sure? Sure it was there?"

"100% see," Frank said, pulling out his phone, "I've got the address still in my google maps, this one right here on the bottom floor it was,"

"Fuck," Billy shouted, his hands combing through his untamed hair, "Fuck,"

"What is it?" You asked starting to get a bit worried about what was going on, "do you know who lives there?" He nodded, continuing his pacing through your living area, "well who is it?"

"I need to make a call," was all Billy said, offering his hand to Frank, but instead Frank pulled him unto a hug, whispering in his ear, "I see now how she feels, but if you hurt her I won't fail to kill you next time,"

"You mean hurt her like you did," Billy whispered, Frank looked over his shoulder to you making a pot of tea and the yellowing bruises on your legs and released Billy, " be back in a sec," he said walking towards your bedroom with his phone out.

"I'm sorry about hitting you kiddo," Frank apologised, leaning against the counter besides you, "I don't know what come over me,"

"I do. But it's done now. Let's just get this sorted so we can all move on,"

"Am I ever going to see you after this? Your Ma is missing you like crazy. Wants to know why you won't come home,"

"What did you tell her?" you said, the feelings you had suppressed for the last few days bubbling up inside you, threatening to spill from your eyes.

"Nothing she didn't already seem to know, see's everything that women. Just wish you woulda told me. Finding out like that was- it was a shock,"

"I know I'm sorry to. Billy wanted to tell you but I was scared." you began sobbing, "Scared you'd react- Well the way you did," you said, tears trickling down your cheeks, you finally took the sunflowers he had brought for you and sticking them in a vase. You hands needed something to do with your hands, because right now you were itching for one of those famous bear hugs.

"It's ok kiddo, well sort it out," his big arms wrapping around your head, his comforting hands wiping away the tears that had fallen free, "I should get going, your ma wanted me to call her after I spoke to you and you know how she gets," he joked, "You going to be ok?" he asked, leaning back a good look at you.

"Yeh, I'm good," you laughed, thinking of your mother and how she could would always want to know everything about everyone.

"I'll see you in a few days, call if you need anything," he said admiring the flowers on the counter, before giving you a contented smile and heading out the door.

Your sitting down on the couch watching TV, a warm cup of tea in your hand. The soft cushion of the couch under your head when Billy re-enters the room.

"So we're gunna have another visitor pretty soon," he said, lifting the blanket and snuggling in next you.

"Oh really, who is it?"

"I'm pretty sure it's our leak, but he's a good guy so I want to give him a chance to explain himself,"

"That's very mature of you," you said surprised that he didn't just want to shoot them onsite.

"Don't get me wrong, little girl. I got a gun handy incase this does awry. But I never got the chance to explain myself to Frank and I want him to have the chance I didn't get,"

"When will he be here?"

"About an hour," you and Billy sit on the couch quietly, waiting for this person to show. You wanted to ask who, what and why? But knew you're questions would be answered soon enough. And soon enough came quicker than you thought. After about 45 minutes there was a knock on your door.

Billy stood to his full height, pulling out the drawer from the coffee table and sitting his gun atop it. A warning for your guest you thought. Your eyes are locked on Billy as he opened the door.

Before you even knew what you were doing, your body flung you forward "you motherfucker!" You shouted your fist connecting with the man's face, "It was you?! Are you fucking serious?! We trusted you!" You hit him again, before Billy's arms wrapped around your middle dragging you back towards the couch.

"Little girl, you need to calm down. He's just here to talk, we can decide after he's said his piece what we're going to do with him,"

"But he-" you protested, but he gave you a stern look, not leaving room for more questions, "Fine, I'll listen." You said, rubbing your knuckles, why had his gave been so dam hard?

"Is your hand ok?" Billy asked, kneeling down and kissing each knuckle. He peered up through his lashes at you, pride evident in his eyes, "Not gunna throw any more punches?"

"Only if I don't like what he has to say," you said poking out your tongue.

"Good girl," he said placing a stray piece of hair behind your ear and turning to the man who was holding onto his face very surprised at the force you had used on him, "Ok, Derek come on in and take a seat."

Part 20

AN:

Taglist:

@profoundme444 @musicalggirl @spear-bearing-bi-witch @nikki-sixx-is-daddy @mrs-billyrussooo @pedropascalfanclub @blackbirddaredevil23 @eginv-blog @skyfallingstartaylorsversion @emmamooney

#house hunting #female!reader x billy russo #billy russo fanfic #reader x billy russo #billy russo x you #the punisher fanfic #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x reader #billy russo imagine #billy russo

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eyeless-cunt · 3 years

Note

scenario where yandere masky/Tim s/o accidentally broke some plates while putting them away (s/o was already kidnapped and is naturally apologetic) (yes I'm that one person asking for more submissive stuff maybe I have a Problem maybe I don't)

you do have a problem but that’s alright because i’m an enabler, darling. we really do just mix.

TW: kidnapping although that’s not mentioned, blood mention, pulling glass out of skin, crying, there’s not much ‘yandere’ stuff in here

You were just so bored. I mean, there’s literally nothing to do in this old shack, so doing what could be considered chores was really your only option—unless you counted staring at the ceiling as one. Of course, something so simple just had to turn out terribly wrong, thanks to your idiocracy. You and Masky only owned like four plates altogether, so it should have been easy and quick. Although because you are, an idiot, as you started to dry off the last one (this whole ordeal had only taken you a good five minutes so far—so it wasn’t much of a time waster like you had hoped it be) it slipped through your hands and hit the ground with a loud splintering crash.

The plate hit the ground so fast that it took a minute to process the few tiny glass pieces that were now embedded in your skin. The pain hit you so suddenly, making you suck in a large gulp of air, tears bubbling behind your eyelids. You felt like an idiot, a now crying idiot. It really did hurt, blood starting to slightly leak out of the shallow cuts. It was like an amplified paper cut. You thought about how you had broken one of the only plates you and Masky owned, and how much these stupid fucking cuts hurt. Then you thought about how absolutely stupid you were for not holding an obviously slippery plate well enough.

You stood there, no coherent thoughts or plans of action attempting to make a name for themselves. You were dumbfounded for a few more seconds, wondering what the hell you were supposed to do. ‘Should I clean this up first? Or fix these cuts? Fuck, this hurts...’

Of course, your partner(?) just had to come home at that moment, walking right in on you staring at your now excessively bleeding legs like a dumbass. Not your finest moment. He paused. You paused. He stared down at your red Leonardo da Vinci painted legs and you stared at his blank mask. Both of you went through the seven stages of buffering in about five seconds. Immediately though, as soon as the situation got through his thick mask and even thicker skull he was heading towards you, his movements a lot quicker than they’d usually be.

This, obviously, made you shift into gear as well, the sight of him steamrolling towards you after you’d broken a perfectly good plate coaxing an apology out of you hastily. Not because you were sure he was mad at you (although you figured that was on the table) but because you were genuinely sorry. I mean, what was he supposed to do? Break into someone’s house and steal a singular plate because his idiot s/o breaks everything they touch? Walk into a dollar store buying a single plate and just end up staring down the chashier? They’d probably call the cops on him as soon as they saw that sketchy mask walk into the store. And there’s no fucking way he’s letting you walk into some place.

You opened your mouth to apologize, but instead let out a sqeak as he lifted you just a few inches off the ground, practically dragging you into your bathroom. He lifted you up onto the sink, where you sat dumbfounded. You turned to look at him as he shuffled through a cupboard, looking for something with apparent difficulty. He pulled out a pair of tweezers, and you knew this was about to hurt. “...I didn’t even know we owned tweezers.” No response. He took off his mask—something he rarely did—and kneeled down, grabbing the back of your right leg and bringing it in close.

“Wa-wait,” you gasped out, the sight of the glass imbedded in your legs making you uneasy, “it’ll hurt. When you pull it out it’ll hurt.”

“...should I knock you out?” Figures that that’s how he would solve your fear.

“You’ll just end up giving me a concussion...I’m sorry for breaking the plate...it was an accident. I’m sorry.” He didn’t seem like he cared about that, and didn’t even attempt to respond to your apology. It didn’t deter you from continuing though, still feeling the guilt press down on you like a thick fog. “I know we only have a few—and I made such a mess too. I promise I’ll clean it up. I’m sorry.”

“...’s jus’ a plate. ‘m cleanin’ it.” He slowly pulled out a smaller piece from your skin, making you gasp in pain as a response.

“It hurts. It real-really hurts.” He spared you a single glance, getting up to wet a washcloth. He pressed the wet and slightly steaming washcloth to your leg, wiping off already dried and new (some had spurted out when he pulled out some glass) blood. You flinched when he made contact, his hands were warm on your cold skin.

“Close your eyes.” He grabbed the tweezers again, repositioning his hands so that he could grip you firmly. You figured it was so that you didn’t move around or struggle, purposely or not. You obeyed, closing your eyes.

“It’s gonna hurt. Masky it’s gonna hURT!—

He pulled a slightly larger piece out of you leg, making you lean forward to grasp onto his shoulders, gripping them tightly in response to the pain. Your breathing got heavier and you felt your eyes water. You opened your eyes to him looking up at you, his lips turned slightly downwards—usually the look on his face when his mask was off showed no expression, so this was a surprise. He moved to pull out another one, but you stopped him, tugging on his jacket. He paused and looked back up at you.

“I don’t want you to. It really fucking hurts.” You knew that you were being a baby and logically these few more pieces needed to come out of your leg as soon as possible. Your body shook, maybe it was shock. Maybe because you were so cold. Maybe because it hurt so much and you were scared. Probably all of the above. You closed your eyes again, preparing yourself for him to ignore you and pull another out. You wanted this to be done with.

Instead, you felt him wrap his arms under your legs and back, picking you up and walking out of the bathroom. Your eyes watered more, for whatever reason you weren’t sure. You curled into his chest, gripping him tight. It felt secure here. He sat you down on your shared bed, although you found yourself alone in it most nights. He kneeled down to the floor again, taking your leg and picking up the tweezers again to continue.

His actions clicked in your mind instantly, making tears slip even though you tried your hardest to make them stay put hidden away. This was more comfortable, it felt safer in here. He brought your head down to quickly kiss your forehead upon seeing your tears—which only made you cry more. His actions were confirmation that he genuinely cared, which was something you didn’t get often from him.

“I’ll be quick.” He pushed on your shoulder, signaling that he was continuing and that he wanted you to lay down. You did as he asked, laying down and staring up at the ceiling (how ironic that this is what you were trying to avoid doing only so many minutes before) with your legs dangling over the edge of the bed. He pulled another out, your hands clenching the blankets around you as the pain clenched you—your body tensing so as to not spasm out of his grip and mess something up.

“One more.” You let out a breath of relief, bracing yourself for one more. He slowly dug it out, this one apparently deeper than the others. That’s probably why he left it for last. You hit the bed beside you, clenching your teeth as it moved under your skin. He tugged it out, finally.

The tension left your body as soon as it was out, you wanting to curl into bed and never touch any glass objects ever again. “Stay.” You huffed at his word choice. “‘m not a dog.” He paused in the doorway. “...bunny.” You laughed, a bunny? Do you tell bunnies to stay? Can bunnies follow commands? You heard the bathroom sink running, figuring that he was probably washing out the washcloth, surprisingly. Usually he left bloody clothes out and you ended up dealing with them. You knew his intention wasn’t for you to do them, but it somehow ended up that way anyways.

You stopped focusing on listening to what he was doing, instead opting to drag a pillow over to you and snuggle into it as best you could without changing your current position with you laying on your back. Masky came in a minute later, equipped with bandages and a glass of water. You heard one of his many pill bottles scatter as he walked in his pocket. He made you take at least three of those a day, often more if he was with you. The reason you didn’t know, but it didn’t change anything about you, so you didn’t mind.

You waited patiently as he wrapped the bandages around your leg, flinching every so often when he came into contact with an injured area. “Done.” You immediately got up, grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself. “Thank you. I’m sorry I was complaining like a baby the entire time.”

He didn’t say anything, as usual. Although he placed his hand on the back of your head, patting awkwardly —it was actually sorta comfy though. You went to leave the room to clean up your mess, only for him to stop you by grabbing your wrist and pulling you back.

“What?” You stared up at him, his face giving away no tell as to what he may be feeling, much less thinking.

“...I need to clean up.” He pushed you back again, seemingly annoyed.

“Didn’t’ch hear me? ‘m cleanin’ it.” You protested as soon as the words left his mouth, but he only pushed you down again, leaving to go clean up your mess. You felt even worse now. You broke a plate, made him clean you up, and now he’s cleaning up the mess you started. You felt absolutely pathetic as more tears slipped out. Your arms moved to cover your face, not wanting anyone to see you genuinely cry.

He was back five minutes later, but paused once again when he heard you sniffling. You wiped your tears, ashamed of your out of control emotions. His mask was on when you looked up to find that he was back. He closed the door beside him and sat on the opposite side of the bed, slipping off his shoes and coat. He laid himself down in bed, looking at you as if he was expecting something. So you got up from your uncomfortable position and crawled in beside him under the covers, wrapping an arm around his waist in an attempt to pull him closer. He was always warm, and a bit sweaty. His arms found themselves around you in return and you smiled for the first time that day.

#i genuinely dont like this #THIS IS SO BADLY WRITTEJ LMFAOFJFJ PLEASE #masky #masky marble hornets #marble hornets headcanons #masky x reader #yandere masky #marble hornets x reader #marble hornets yandere #tim marble hornets #marble hornets #creepypasta headcannons #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #yandere

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kikoqueenofrats · 3 years

Text

Heheh, Warning incoming angst!

Also uh, the use of ocs are used in this chapter as a thank you for all of the enthusiasts discord for being epic and inspiering me to make these two in the first place. However do not take this as a cannon event in the others ocs stories, they are only cameos! Lil Guy is the only exception to that rule.

Lil guy belongs to @toastraccoon Pink and Beage belong to @breadthecat Katum and Plava belong to Phoinix (https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duckbang/pseuds/Duckbang, read their stories they're good)

If you guys want your characters removed please tell me and I will do so as quickly as I can!

"I'm sorry, I don't know that game..."

That was a phrase Mari and Cel had grown all too used to during their travels and it was starting to get on Maris nerves, however Cel was determined to find his game.

"Okay, thank you!" Cel waved off the white stick figure before walking off, Mari following close behind.

Mari was about to openly complain about it when Cel spotted his next interviewee.

"Excuse me!!" Cel called out to the navy blue and orange stickfigures. They both looked over towards the incoming sticks curiously. Before the two sticks could fully react to Cels sudden arrival he asked his question.

"Do you know of a place called Petopia?....it's in a game I can't remember the name of"

Cel waited for the two sticks answer in anticipation, hoping they would at least recognize the name.

However the confused looks Cel received proved that Cels hopes were soon to be dashed.

"Sorry kid, I've never heard of that place before" the blue one shrugged, the orange one nodding in agreement.

"Have you ever heard of a game with...a stick named Protag leading the community in it?" Cel asked, still latching onto the hope that these two sticks had at least a small amount of information on the whereabouts of Cels home.

The two sticks shook their heads.

"Nope" the blue one replied

"What a weird name-" the orange one chuckled.

Cel let out a short humorless laugh at that "Yeah, he's pretty proud of it too" Cel huffed looking away sadly.

Before the two sticks could react to this Cel turned to leave "Okay thank you!" He waved at them as he left. Mari looked sadly over at Cel, as he walked away, for a few moments before quickly following.

Mari could practically feel the disappointment coming off of Cel and was about to suggest that they took a short break when Cel rushed off again.

He was heading towards two sticks who looked like they were trying to avoid the other sticks walking around the flash game website as much as possible.

Before Mari could point this out Cel was already close enough to catch the two sticks attention.

The pink stick with a bow wrapped around their neck flinched at Cels sudden arrival. Quickly pulling out their weapon they swung it at Cel, Cel didn't move out of the way in time and ended up on the floor with a small scratch across his chest. Pain flashed across Cels back as it hit the floor and he tensed up, reeling slightly as it momentarily took over his senses.

Cel bit down a scream, not wanting to worry Mari anymore than they already was, besides this was normal now. There was no way of completely healing this old wound, it had been too big for the healing potion. Besides all Cel had to do was continue to keep this to himself, like he always had been; Mari didn’t need to worry over nothing after all.

"CEL!" Mari gasped rushing over to where Cel had fallen;

Before Mari could get there the pink sticks beige friend grabbed their hand and pulled them away, the duo disappearing into the darkness.

"Cel are you okay!?!" Mari asked as they helped Cel into a sitting position. Cel groaned as the once dulling back pain flared up again as Mari moved him, managing to completely forget about the small wound gracing his chest as his back throbbed. Soon however the pain dulled completely and Cel was about to reassure Mari when a small forest Green stick suddenly appeared beside them.

They both jumped slightly at the small figures appearance and the green stick chuckled in response.

"Sorry about that" they shrugged before looking over at Cels injury "I can help you with that" the stick smiled beginning to pull their comically large backpack off of their back.

"Thank you..." Cel chuckled weakly before noticing the look Mari had begun giving the new stick.

Mari continued giving this look as the small green stick pulled some medical equipment out of their bag and began treating Cels wound.

Just before the green stick had finished treating Cel a look of recognition suddenly fell upon Mari's face.

"Hey I know you!" They gasped pointing at the now bewildered green stick "You saved my life after I got my butt kicked by that Hyun dojo stick...Oxib was his name...I think..." Mari looked thoughtful for a few moments and the green stick copied their look before a look of recognition washed over their face as well.

"Oh Yeah!" They gasped before beginning to chuckle "you thought you could take on one of the most powerful fighters in the dojo, it took you about a week to recover from that" the green stick smirked "how are you doing by the way?"

Mari smiled in embarrassment at that "not...one of my proudest moments" they muttered before going to answer the green sticks question.

"I'm doing alright, actually I'm helping this stick here find his home...hey! Do you happen to know of a place called Petopia?" Mari asked. The green stick looked thoughtful for a few moments and Cel perked up again.

"Hmmm...I remember treating a stick who said they were from there..."

Mari and Cels eyes widened, both in surprise and excitement.

Maybe they would finally find out where Cels game was.

"Do you know where those sticks are?" Mari asked, practically vibrating.

The green stick thought some more, before frowning and shaking their head.

"Sorry fellas, all I know is that they're on a different computer...that and they were both a shade of green" the green stick shrugged.

Cel frowned at that, looking down at his now bandaged chest in defeat. Mari on the other hand looked like he was about to launch off into the atmosphere.

"That's okay! Thank you!" Mari smiled and the green stick nodded in reply.

"Alright!" They nodded before standing up "oh wait before I go! Can I get your names?" They asked.

"Sure!" Mari grinned getting up as well "I'm Mari short for Maroon and this-" they gestured towards Cel and their smile faltered when they saw how downcast he looked.

"Is Cel...short for Cerulean..."

"My name's Lil Guy" He chirped, not noticing the sudden change in atmosphere.

Mari nodded in response, not taking their eyes off of Cel.

Finally noticing the sudden change Lil Guy decided it would be better if he left...he was a doctor of medicine, not phycology after all.

"I should...probably get going...see you around!" And with that the green figure hauled his large medical backpack onto his back and left.

Mari knelt down next to Cel and placed their hand on his shoulder.

"You okay" Mari asked softly with concern written all over their face.

Cel huffed "not really no-'' he chuckled "we've been at this for ages...I just...I know this new information is amazing but...We're just gonna be on another wild goose chase...and...I'm so confused...They’re both Green...my old friend were both Green...it can’t be them though...Protag always sent banished sticks into the dark forest and..." Cel sighed burying his head into his knees ``left them there...that place is full of monsters...the banished never usually survive it...un...unless..."

"Unless a certain bad guy went against his master's orders..."

At the new voice the duo jumped and turned in the direction of it.

Cels eyes widened in surprise as they fell upon a dark purple stick figure standing within the dimly lit spaces in between the flash games just in front of the duo.

"Hey there, you looking for a place called Petopia?" They dark purple stick asked, slowly making their way towards the two stick figures.

They both nodded in reply.

The dark purple stick smirked at this and Mari felt a twinge in their gut, a twinge that told them trusting this guy would lead to some sort of trouble.

But for the sake of Cel he didn't voice this issue.

"I know where that is...follow me" and with that the dark purple stick disappeared into the darkness.

Cel jumped up, being as careful with his back as he could, and quickly made his way into the space, Mari quickly following behind him.

"Cel be careful!!" Mari called behind him but Cel wasn't listening, too focused on his desire to get back home.

To notice he was walking right into a trap.

A loud zapping noise, followed by Mari screaming in pain caused Cel to stop in his tracks and turn around.

Just in time to see Mari collapsing onto the floor.

Before Cel could fully react a blunt object smacked into his head and he fell to the floor as well.

Just before he passed out he heard a voice, a familiar one.

"That was too easy" it chuckled.

And then, Cel passed out.

#Cel and Mari #stickocs #alan becker #animation vs animator #tw injury #tw kidnapping #tw electrocution

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sweet-cynical-writer · 4 years

Text

Thank you to everyone who waited patiently!!! The long overdue update is here for Soukoku's Love Child!

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Suicide, Gore, Death

Special thanks to @soukokuwu naturally for proofreading & of course continuing to be my partner for the series! ♡

Soukoku's Love Child - Nikkō's Past

The soft piano music carried on a reminiscent sound as Dazai walked into Lupin. As he settled into his seat, a certain ginger haired mafioso let out an exasperated sigh as if he'd been expecting company for quite some time. His partner was late as usual.

“What kept you this time, shitty Dazai?”

He took his drink in hand to take a sip before replying. And naturally it made Chuuya upset. A warning glare shot towards the barkeep who was only there to do his job and nothing more. Dazai didn't mind ;In fact for as long as he'd been coming to Lupin, he was always served without having to place a single order.

“I was visiting someone along the way. Turns out, they need my help.”

His partner opened his mouth to retort that there's no way he would assist in helping him but was cut off as if it were expected.

“Chuuya. I know you don't want me to get involved in anyone's problems. But this is a special case. And it will affect you as well.”

The way he released an audible, ‘Tch’ made Dazai smirk with amusement. It was his partner's way of saying, ‘go on and explain yourself fast before I rip your head off’.

“I'm glad you understand. Now. To put it bluntly, I found out more about this kid I ran into. We should adopt him. There's too much risk keeping him in that orphanage and if someone else comes along to grab him.. well let's just say it will only create more work for us.”

Chuuya was irritated at the idea of having a child to look after. He hardly would have patience for Dazai as troublesome and childish he could be. Taking care of a real child would be a nightmare.

“Now listen here, if you think that you could just make all the decisions here and I would just go along with it, you're dead wrong.”

Sure, Chuuya was aware that when it came to making life changing decisions that Dazai had a natural gift for choosing right every time. But that didn't mean the ginger had to mindlessly agree every time something like this occurred.

The way he cooly took his drink to his lips only made him more angry. That sly smile played on his lips like he could order the mafia executive around like some second hand maid.

“Look you bandaged bastard, I mean it. If we just ignore this child and we do end up with more work, so what? We could always use an alternative to helping the kid find a stable home rather than have us watch him.”

Even given their separate roles, it would be impossible for either of them to always have visual watch on the kid. Was he expecting the two of them to play hot potato taking care of him? And then there were always the possibilities of the kid wandering off. Chuuya shook his head after drinking from his glass.

"No, Dazai. There's too much maintenance to bother having this kid in our care. I say make him someone else's problem or just forget about it.”

He knew better than to doubt Dazai's intuition. As insufferable this man was, he never made a wrong call on a long term decision. Ultimately, that was part of the pros of dating such a man. Still, no matter how sharp Dazai was in taking the lead, Chuuya refused to cooperate. This time, Dazai was asking for too much on his part.

To be honest, the burnette anticipated a reaction like this from Chuuya. He didn't look surprised in the slightest as he watched his partner express the facial expression of a stubborn dog who didn't want to move an inch. Unless his owner was going to drag him along by the leash.

“You may be against it now, Chuuya. But when I tell you what kind of capabilities this child has, you'll change your mind.”

Dazai took another sip from his glass before setting it down with a soft clink against the glass coaster. His warm chocolate gaze filled with sorrow as he parted his lips to tell the story of a child that lost everything at once.

***

The child was only six when this took place. A meeting that was long overdue on a night when the air was bone chilling. It whispered desirable sins in the ears of two lovers that tore a bond that was at wit's end. There was only a matter of time that this would happen but the way it happened was something not fit for children. So it was only natural that they waited until their son was put to bed before they took action on leaving him behind.

Nothing was going to stop them from reaching what they both wanted most. The one thing in life that was irreversible that was both feared and wanted by man. It was something that their son wouldn't understand until long after they left.

“The only thing I hope for.. is that he won't hate us if he ever finds out.”

Her silky voice came out in a soft whisper. Sweet honey coated eyes staring back into that freshly cut emerald gaze of his. They were sharp and confident the way he reassured his wife with a gentle press of his lips to hers. The moonlight shone down on them like a spotlight. They danced against death for their whole lives. But tonight? Tonight they would dance toward it.

They had decided a while back; they’d do it here, near the river, under the bridge where it’s quiet, barren. It wasn’t too far from the house, but far enough so their child would be able to sleep through it. Doing it at their home would be too much, too troublesome.

Tonight was the last time they could breathe. The last time they would see each other. Their fate was sealed with the guns they both held in each other's hands. They intertwined arms with the barrels resting on their foreheads. With a silent exchange to one another, they released the trigger.

It was roughly 6:45 A.M. that the boy had woken up from his slumber. He was in a daze, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he rolled out of bed to search for his parents. Their bedroom being empty sent his heart into a panic. Where did they go? And without him? Frantically, he opened the front door to rush to the first place he thought of. The river. It was a favored area that Nikkō loved to spend his time skipping rocks.

There were even times when he would hide from his parents to play out here. It was an obvious spot to be found, but that didn't matter to him, he always wanted to be found easily. However, this time, Nikkō's parents were the ones easily found.

Two bodies, side by side and covered in red, tainting the usual clear blue gentleness which was the river. It no longer held the innocent and kind memories of his family. Instead, it haunted him as he stared wide eyed and unmoving like a statue.

He was snapped out of his blank state to the sound of an incomplete call made out to the caller ID labeled, ‘YASU’. The cell phone was found in his mother's hand. He broke down in uncontrollable sobbing. Nikkō was there, curled in between the decaying bodies of his parents. Crying hysterically with an erratic heartbeat that was visible to the naked eye. A man who possessed blond hair and kind eyes had shown up before to tame the child before police arrived.

It was decided from the note left behind that he would be put into the orphanage for the sake of not learning of his dark past. Out of fear that the child would possibly take things the wrong way or attempt to take his own life out of guilt. His parents did not want the chance of Nikkō ever finding out about losing his family. There was also the logical fear that someday, learning about his ability that he could use it to hurt everyone around him.

As long as he remained oblivious to his ability, he could live out a full life of happiness. If he remains in the orphanage, some loving family will pick him up and raise him to be a sweet child. There were too many risk factors to expose Nikkō to such sensitive information. All they could do was hope he would never have to go through the stress and strain that came with having an ability.

Including knowing about Yasu, he was left with no choice. His parents found it too risky that one day, the truth would slip out if they allowed Yasu to raise Nikkō. Their last request of their old friend was to take him to an orphanage. No further contact was allowed with him after he was dropped off. But Yasu loved Nikkō like his own. He kept his promise to take Nikkō to the orphanage, only to go against their wishes and keep in contact with the boy by exchanging gifts and letters with him as time passed.

The moment the orphanage learned about the child's ability to manipulate emotions upon physical contact, they had him separated from the rest of the children. He was considered a walking disaster that only wanted those to suffer with him. When in actuality, the child not only had no clue he possessed an ability, but he wished for someone to explain what he was feeling. He was confused and often became docile at the mention of any word similar to ‘family’.

He was often asked many questions referring to his past like what happened to his parents and if he knew why he was there at the orphanage. Nikkō couldn't answer with certainty, given that the disturbing image of two bloodied bodies seen at a tender age made his brain block out those memories. Something in him refused to let him access his past. Telling him to keep pushing forward and never look back.

Tags for notification: @suehiro @jounos-teashop-writing @aiya-chan03 @i-am-sleepy-as-heck @tapioka-boi @wildnya @chihxru @dazedbydazai @bandaged-writer @daffodildazaiwrites @orphic-osamu

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs dazai #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bsd dazai osamu #dazai bsd #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs nakahara chuuya #bsd chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya #chuuya bsd #soukoku's love child #Seikatsu Nikkō #zai writes #zai does shitty edits

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queerbutstillhere · 4 years

Note

For my favourite writer, Damian and Jon get send to an Alternate Universe (maybe young justice cause I'm more familiar with it) and during their brief stay there everyone they interact with thinks they are dating because they act as a couple.

(I'm not sure how I feel about this, but oh well? I hope it's okay! Also it's kinda a weird situation, like they're in an alternate universe, but it's also just Young Justice? Idk I hope it makes sense!)

You know, it wasn't everyday that you're chilling with your Bros, a big blue portal opens in the ceiling and from it falls two vigilantes, cursing and kicking each other, right onto your coffee table, shattering it everyday.

Or at least it shouldn't be an everyday occurrence.

It certainly wasn't that surprising to say the least.

I suppose you want background, don't you?

It was a wonderful summer morning. Timothy Drake, Conner Kent, Cassie Sandsmark and Bart Allen had gone to visit their good friends Cissie and Greta, retired heroes. Tim, being a rich kid, could afford to do this for a weekend, and of course, the others could just run or fly there. So they went out for lunch and then went back to Cissies house, her mom conveniently out for the weekend. They were just chilling and catching up when the portal opened, people fell, and glass table shattered.

Greta had screamed when they fell, meanwhile the others just jumped up, ready to fight. The two vigilantes weren't terribly large, they had landed on top of each other, and the one on top was covered by a large black cape, a hood flipped over his head. He was the one swearing loudly. The other one was clearly a teen, wearing blue and red, and a red cape twisted underneath him. He had black hair and blue eyes and looked . . . Like Clark?

Tim and Kon exchanged a confused look.

"Damn you!"

"Stop it! Would you just stop fighting and hold still while I get a bearing on where the hell we are."

"No! Let go of me!"

"You're bleeding," the teen responded, arms tightly clasped around the person on top of him.

He had spotted Kon and apparently identified him as the current threat, body going rigid.

"I'm always bleeding, let go!"

There was a grunt and then cape man was pushing up, sitting on his companions stomachs as he looked around, eyes landing on Tim.

They both gasped at the same time.

"Robin?" Tim exclaimed, because standing in front of him was an. . . Older Damian?

"Drake," Damian shot back, tilting his head.

"Whoa, wait a minute," Kon said, stepping in front of Tim. "What's going on?"

"Tim, how does he know that?" Cissie asked.

"Know what? His last name?" Robin said with an eyeroll.

"God, Robin, lay off the bean burgers!" The younger man complained, shoving at Robin.

"Shut the hell up, Superboy. Now is not the time."

A small whine escaped "Superboy" and then he locked eyes with Kon again. Sure enough, on his chest was the S emblem of Superman. Kon took a step towards him, and in a flash, this Superboy was across the room, Robin between him and the wall as he glared at them, an arm behind him, touching Robin.

"Stay back. Who the hell are you people."

"Tt. Kent, don't be so naive," Robin said, poking his head out around the taller teens shoulder. "That is clearly my brother."

"You're-" Tim started confused.

"I see that, Rob, but who are the others?"

".... Admittedly I don't know. It appears Rex's portal dropped us into another dimension. . . Fascination."

"Uh! No! The last alternate dimension we got involved in, my dad was evil! Your dad doesn't even know we snuck out."

"Eh. I'm sure it'll be fine. What's the worst that can happen? They send West after us?"

"Robin!"

Tim raised an eyebrow at the two, motioning for the others to stand down, Cassie relaxed, and Cissie stopped edging towards her bow.

"Bart, can you clean up the glass, please?" Tim asked softly.

"Yeah." The speedster blurred around until all the glass pieces were collected, and then appeared with a vaccum, sweeping the rug.

Superboy and Robin had gone silent, watching this.

"He's a speedster."

"I see that."

"I don't trust them."

"And you think I do? They haven't attacked us yet, though, so that's a start."

Tim watched with hidden amusement, this whole time, as they stood against the wall, they had been touching the whole time, Robin's hands on Superboy's arm, which was wrapped around and hooked into Robin's utility belt. It was almost as if they were holding each other back.

"Okay. Why don't we do introductions instead of standing here and whispering," Tim said, stepping closer. "I'm Tim Drake."

"Red Robin. I know," Robin said softly.

Tim frowned, eyebrow raising. "I'm not..."

Robin's eyebrow also raised.

"Maybe he's not Red in this universe?" Superboy said softly.

Robin gently cuffed the back of Superboy's head. "Use your eyes. Read his body language, his posture, his body shape. He's a vigilante of some kind. It seems only reasonable that he would be Red Robin still. His recognized me, which means I have become Robin in this universe already. So unless he quit, or by some miracle, is Batman..."

"Okay, Damian, just, stop," Tim said, waving his hands. "Yes I know who you are. But I'm not Red Robin anymore."

"Oh you did quit?" Robin inquired.

"No. . . I uh. Changed my name."

"Fucking Drake," Kon muttered from behind them.

"Okay, you know what. Greta and I are gonna go to the kitchen why you guys sort this mess out," Cissie said, and sure enough, the two girls just exited stage left-

"What did you change it to?" Robin asked, he still hadn't moved from behind Superboy.

".... Drake."

Robin blinked once. Then twice.

"What the fuck?"

"Look! Okay! It's a powerful duck-"

"It's literally only aggressive when horny, Tim, what the hell?" Robin interrupted, staring at him with the biggest "what the fuck" expression ever.

"I TOLD YOU!" Bart nearly screamed, zipping over. "Hi! I'm Bart Allen, Impulse! I'm Barry's grandkid."

"Uh, Hi. I'm Superboy?" Superboy said, blue eyes cautiously scanning Bart.

"That's hilarious, because I'm Superboy," Kon said, stepping up, wrapping an arm around Tim's waist.

The two Superboy's had a glaring match.

"Cassandra Sandsmark. Wonder Girl."

"Oh, isn't Donna-"

"Alternate dimension," Robin reminded his Superboy.

Tim didn't miss the small sway that just happened to Robin. Neither did Superboy, as he suddenly spun and scooped up Robin.

"You dumbass," he huffed, looking around.

"I'm fine. We have more pressing matters-"

"You are literally bleeding through your armor."

"Kent I'm fine."

"Like hell."

Superboy looked at Tim.

"He took a shank to the stomach earlier. Do you have medical supplies?"

"Somewhere-"

They sent Bart off to look for those, while Superboy laid Robin down on the dining room table, gently undoing all his armor as Robin was forced to lay there helplessly, and just talk.

"As you have probably figured out by now, I'm Damian Wayne, and this is Jonathan Kent. We are Robin and Superboy from our universe," Damian explained, tugging off his gloves and then his mask.

"Wait does that make us brothers?" Kon asked, staring at Jonathan.

"What?" The younger Kent asked , barely glancing up from his task of gently pulling off Damian's layers, every touch and tug painfully gentle.

"Your dad is Clark, right?"

"Yeah."

"He's mine too. I'm Kon, Conner Kent."

"Oh! Cool!" Jon grinned at him brightly.

Neither of them noticed it, but Damian went rigid, and Jon mumbled an apology, looking back down. Bart returned with a first aid kit finally.

"This is all Cissie had."

"I'll take it," Jon said.

While he got to work, ripping his cape for spare bandaged, and using the surgical needle and string that Cissie had wisely decided there should be inside, Damian began explaining what had happened, how they had been battling an old enemy named Rex, and he had, in a last ditch effort, opened the portal, tossing them through it. Cassie and Tim asked a few questions to better understand, and Damian answered them all, barely bothered by Jon working on his stab wound, bandaging it as best he could.

"So wait. We don't exist on your world?" Cassie asked.

"Well, Tim does, and I do believe I've heard of a Cassandra Sandsmark. But I've never met you, Kon, nor do we have an Impulse. Just the Wally's and Barry. Oh and Jay."

"Wild."

"Well, Jon here doesn't exist in our timeline, so it'd not that surprising," Kon said to Bart.

"Yeah but still. What do people do without us?"

"We survive just fine, I assure you," Damian said sarcastically.

Jon smacked his thigh. "Hey, play nice."

"I am playing nice."

"No. You're being a dick."

"This is him being a dick?" Tim asked, eyebrow raised. "You should meet my Damian. . . Hey how old are you anyway."

"I'm seventeen. Jon is fifteen."

Tim exchanged a look with Kon, right as Damian gave a small grunt.

"Sorry, I'm almost done, okay? Hold still," Jon said, lightly touching Damian's arm before tying off the string.

They almost acted like a couple, with the gentle touches and soft tones they used.

"That's cute," Bart said softly, almost as if he had read Tim's mind.

Jon's head snapped up, and he looked at Bart, cheeks turning red.

"So we should most likely talk to Father, and maybe Kord to see how to get us back," Damian said to Tim.

"Yeah. I'll call Bruce. I think he's in Paris though so he may not be much help."

"He'd still like to know what is going on."

Tim shook his head slightly. "Don't you two worry, we'll get you boys back to your own universe as quick as possible."

"We're not children, Drake," Damian muttered, shaking his head. "God I can't believe you picked Drake!"

So they called Bruce, headed to the watchtower, changing on the way. When Tim walked out from the room on the batwing that he had been changing in, Damian just stared at him.

"Why are you brown and yellow."

"It's my uniform."

"That is the blandest uniform I have ever seen. That's not even the colors of a Drake."

"What?" Tim asked confused."

"You're literally wearing the colors of a female duck," Damian explained.

"Dami! Don't be rude!"

"It's cause he's such a bottom," Kon commented, grinning at Tim.

"Okay, gross," Damian said, making a face.

"What? Is that not gay culture on your universe?"

"I wouldn't know, frankly," Damian said with a sigh, looking down at his touchscreen gauntlet, messing with it.

". . . So you two aren't dating then?"

Both of them looked at Kon in alarm.

"What?!" Jon screeched.

"Why would we be dating?"

"Because you guys are all gross and touchy," Kon said, even as he leaned on Tim.

"We are not!" Jon protested. "He's my best friend!"

And yet, when they got to the watchtower, the two walked with their arms pressed together, murmuring softly and pointing things out to each other and in general acting like a couple. Tim may not know this Damian, but he can read closeted gay anywhere. Well except himself.

All of the Justice League was wary of these new vigilantes, but interested too, asking questions. Tiny angry Damian was not impressed with older, happier Damian, but older Damian just smiled and spoke gently to younger Damian for a moment, and then the kid huffed in annoyance and ran off.

"What did you tell him?" Jon asked softly.

"That it was okay and he would make mistakes and to just learn from them instead of beating himself up. And that I was proud of him because I remembered how hard and confusing it was to follow Bruce's rules, but things will get better."

Jon smiled fondly at Damian. "Things you wish you had been told?"

"Maybe."

"Totally not dating," Tim mumbled as he walked past. They both glared after him.

It took a few hours for them to figure out how to send Damian and Jon back, meanwhile, the two just hung out with Tim and Kon and chatted, swapping stories and finding out information about each other. Tim really couldn't believe they weren't dating. They sure acted like it.

"Okay, kiddos," everyone looked up as Barry walked over. "Time to go, we've got it all figured out."

They walked over to where the portal was supposed to open.

"Thank you, for helping," Damian said, pressing on his mask.

"It was our pleasure," Tim said with a grin.

Jon said goodbye to Kon, and then ran after Damian through the portal. Tim just laughed and shook his head, and turned to Kon.

"I liked them."

"They were most definitely dating without realizing it yet."

"Oh yeah."

Send me a prompt!

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memeclains-blog · 6 years

Note

Keith finds Lance on the roof of the garrison (after the hospital scene) and they have a little heart to heart? I'm a sucker for Langst 💙💙

Keith often found himself wandering during the night. It was a habit he developed shortly after the first time he’d ever heard Blue and shortly after his father died. He liked the feeling of the cool, crisp desert air once the sun had fallen behind the horizon and once he had lost the only stability he had ever had in his life he began to wander, almost lost, chasing a voice he wasn’t entirely sure was real. Space certainly didn’t help. Their circadian rhythms must have been beyond saving at this point. They kept time on the Castle Ship as best they could, but it was all programmed to Altean time. And ever since the Castle was destroyed they had no way of deciphering the time besides a rough estimation based on the constellations they passed.

Needless to say, Keith often found it difficult to sleep through the night if he could sleep at all.

The others were less prone to wander, though. They would stay in their rooms usually and satisfy themselves with complaining to the rest of the team the next “morning.” Which made for a surprise when Keith wandered onto the Garrison’s roof and found Lance there.

He wasn’t doing anything, really. Nothing so strange as to warrant the gust of breath that was sucker punched right out of Keith’s lungs. He was only sitting and looking at the stars. His face was shrouded by the night but Keith could imagine the anxiety or unease that might have been painting there if he were closer. Keith certainly had trouble looking to the stars these days without wondering about their imminent doom.

Keith took a few more moments to stare before he walked over to Lance’s perch. He was closer to the edge than some would find comfortable but they all had gotten used to jumping off cliffs and staring death in the face enough that it wasn’t all that strange that Lance wasn’t skittish around a measly handful of stories between himself and the ground.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked.

Lance’s shoulders jumped to his ears before he whipped around and found Keith staring at him.

“Warn a guy next time,” Lance said. He huffed but patted the space next to him. “I could ask the same about you though.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Keith sat and crossed his legs. “Ended up here.”

“Same,” Lance muttered into his knees.

Neither of them spoke any longer. Keith let his gaze drift to the sky and tried to discern if the streaks of light that occasionally passed them by were Galran fighters or just comets. When he tried to shift so he was leaning on one hand and taking some of the strain off his neck, pain shot up his arm. He sucked in a breath and shook his hand out. His wrist wasn’t broken or even sprained, it just suffered a bit of a bruising during their multiple crashes. Maybe it was even because he’d been using his sword so much and his wrist was complaining about the beatings. Whatever the reason, it was tender.

“Hey, are you okay, man?” Lance asked. He eyed the bandages still wrapped around his head. “Is it your head?”

“No, I’m fine,” Keith grunted. He circled his wrist a few times. “Just hurt my wrist, you know, up there.”

There were about a million and one places he could have hurt it “up there” but Lance seemed to understand. He waved at his ribs and nodded. “I broke a few ribs.”

“Shouldn’t you be back in bed then?” Keith asked. He wasn’t trying to be pushy, but he was sincerely worried. What if Lance started having trouble breathing? What if he needed more painkillers? What if he found he couldn’t make it back to his hospital bed and fainted in the middle of a corridor?

Keith tried to breathe deeply. It had been a while since he was this anxious, but something about the fight had created a shift inside of him. Maybe it was because every single one of them had almost died, and had thought they would die. Death wasn’t a stranger to Keith, in fact, he would think that he’s been on his doorstep a number of times, but the others? He had always figured they would outlive him for at least eighty years if not forever.

“I’m fine,” Lance said. “We’ve been healing for long enough.” Lance stretched his legs out in front of him so that his feet dangled off the edge of the building. “I just can’t wait until they figure out the pod tech again so I don’t have to sit around for weeks on end, I’m getting tired of being in my room.

Keith was of the same opinion. The Garrison had kept the one pod they had so they could harness the Altean tech just like they were doing with the ship but that meant that it wasn’t available for use and the Paladins were subject to healing at a normal pace. Keith had forgotten what that felt like. He certainly hadn’t missed it, and he was quickly growing tired of the migraines and dizzy spells that were plaguing him.

“So, is that why you’re really out here?” Keith asked. “You’re restless?”

“Yeah,” Lance said. He was quiet for a moment before he continued, “That, and I also needed some time by myself?”

“I didn’t think you were the type to need alone time,” Keith said.

“I’m not a lone wolf like you, but I still need to, just, get away from it all sometimes.”

“I can at least understand that,” Keith said.

Lance nodded and stared at the stars for a bit longer before turning to him. “Do you wonder what would have happened if we’d died during that fight?”

Keith shrugged. “Most of the time I think people would be okay without me. I worry about my mom now, but I think otherwise the universe would be okay.”

“We wouldn’t be okay,” Lance said. “The team needs you, you know.”

“I’m pretty sure you’d be a better leader than I am,” Keith said.

“Me?” Lance asked. He looked stupefied, with his brows scrunched together and the little shakes of his head.

“Yeah, I kinda figured you knew you’d be the next one to pilot Black if something ever happened to me.”

“No, you never told me,” Lance said.

“It’s kinda obvious,” Keith said. He shoved at Lance’s shoulder. It was much more awkward than he’d imagined it would be, his movements were too jerky and hesitant and the “push” was more a slight touch of his fingers. “You’re my rock.”

“The Keith to your Shiro,” Lance breathed.

“The Lance to my Keith,” Keith corrected. It came out sounding much softer than he’d intended. Like an intimate whisper, barely swirling out there in the night sky. But it was so true. One thing he had learned during their time out in space was that he was nothing like Shiro and Lance was nothing like him, but those were good things. Especially Lance. Keith would have never gotten it together in the first place if Lance had never been there.

Lance laughed, but as soon as he stopped, he curled into himself again and shook his head. “I never thought I would be good enough, especially not to you.”

“Why not?” Keith asked. He resisted scooting closer to put his arm around Lance’s shoulders. That wasn’t something he would do, no matter how much he wanted to.

Lance shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve always wondered if I was good enough I guess.”

“Well, you are,” Keith said. When Lance looked at him with the widest eyes he had ever seen on him, Keith felt good about what he’d said. He realized that he hadn’t exactly been the most forthcoming with Lance about anything really. But this was a nice change. “You’re good enough for me -- more than good enough.”

Lance hid his face in his hands and flopped onto the ground. “You’ve killed me.”

Keith chuckled. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant to do but--”

“I could kiss you, you know,” Lance said. Then he gasped and took his hands from his eyes only to cover his mouth. “I mean, well, no homo?”

“That phrase is about one hundred years out of date,” Keith said.

“Yeah.” He was back to covering his eyes. But only for a moment before he lowered his hands and caught Keith’s eyes. Keith wasn’t good with eye contact unless he was about to fight someone but this was so, so different. He wanted to look away, but he was enraptured. Lance’s eyes held the entire galaxy and a quiet intimacy he had only ever seen in movies, just before the main characters kissed. “I didn’t mean it anyway.”

“So, you do want to kiss me?” Keith lowered himself until he was hovering just above Lance. There was mere inches between them.

Lance shrugged. “Can you blame a guy? You just swooped me off my feet with all your compliments and junk.”

Keith closed the space between them. He ascended to a different plane when Lance’s breath hitched for just a moment before he breathed deep through his nose and tugged Keith on top of him. His fingers were buried in Keith’s hair and Keith forgot all the worries that had accumulated during their time in space. Lance melted into the ground and Keith knew he was forgetting too.

#klance #keith #lance #vld #voltron #my writing #oneshot #starpaladins #this isn't really langst but i'd been trying to force it to become something it refused to be for too long so i just went w the flow #i sound like i'm a parent trying to fix the damaged relationship they have with their child

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septic-dr-schneep · 6 years

Note

Hey there....I've had kindof a bad day so do you have any headcannons about how the Egos cry? Sorry if its not okay I'm asking....

Oh, I’m sorry to hear that! I don’t know if these headcanons will helpyou feel any better, unless it makes you feel like you’re not alone. If that’sthe case, here you go; I hope it helps :(

Septic Boys

Anti: He scream-cries,doubled over, clutching at his throat and his shirt and his eyes as if they’reon fire, but it’s really just to stop the tears from coming. He screams andscreams until his voice starts to give out and it’s only when it breaks,mid-scream, that he stops. From there, he just hisses through his teeth, ashard as he can. As he calms down, his whole body fritzes and spits static as hesinks onto the floor, breathing raggedly, staring down at his hands.

Jackieboy:He never wants to be seen when he cries. He sits or lies down in his room inthe dark, staring meekly at the floor while his vision blurs but sniffling andscrubbing furiously whenever the tears spill over. He berates himself in hismind for being weak and childish but eventually there are more tears than hecan wipe away and he just pulls his mask down around his neck because there’sno use for it now. He pulls his hood further over his face and lets himself sobit all out.

Marvin: Herefuses to accept he’s even crying. He pulls off his mask right away because hedoesn’t want to get it wet and paces back and forth, muttering to himself.“Stop it, stop, you’re just being ridiculous. This is stupid…Why are you evendoing this right now? This isn’t even something to cry about, so just suck itup and…” He goes on until he thinks he’s composed and then as soon as he trailsoff, he just picks up the closest edge of his cape, buries his face in it anddissolves into a weepy mess.

Schneep: Hestays quiet as the tears first well up, but once he’s actually crying, he hideshis face as best he can against his hands or his sleeves. He whimpers andwhines brokenly, sometimes in English and sometimes in German, but he slursthem together so much that no one can understand. That turns into shudderycough-sobs that he just can’t stop, no matter how hard he tries. He usuallycries longer than the others do because he starts to hyperventilate, whichupsets him even more.

Chase: Hebursts into wrenching, hopeless sobs, right from the gut. All he wants whenhe’s crying is to have someone hug him but if no one is there, he’ll wrap hisown arms around himself as tightly as he can. He doesn’t know what to do withhimself; he’s rooted to the spot, wherever he may be, and whenever he tries tomove, tries to do anything, he just sobs harder, until it sounds like he’sabout to throw up. When he comes down from it, he’s completely exhausted andwill usually just fall asleep right there.

Robbie: Hewails with the same force as Anti, but he can’t keep it up nearly as long. Oncehe’s done howling, he always seems like he’s graduated from sad to angry. LikeChase, he has no clue what to do with everything he’s feeling, so he grits histeeth and swings his limbs around wildly at whatever’s closest. If he happensto knock something over, he stops up short, realizes what he just did, and startskeening like he’s in agony. That goes on until he runs out of breath.

Jameson: Hekeeps it as unobvious and composed as he can, blinking a lot and ducking hishead as he fiddles with his hat and his pocket watch, anything to make it seemlike he’s completely fine, but eventually his face just crumples and he triesto make himself as small as possible, snuffling and wiping his nose against hissleeve. He doesn’t bother with his handkerchief because most of the time, he doesn’treach the point where he needs it and if he does, he’s too choked up toremember to use it.

Markimoos

Dark: He’sthe quietest of the group. He’ll fold his hands and press his forehead againstthem, hunching his shoulders a little, and the most indication he’ll give thathe’s crying is that his breath gets harsher and shakier. Sometimes he’ll make ahalf-stifled noise low in his throat, something that could have been a sob butwas never fully formed. This never lasts long either, so most people never realizethat he was crying in the first place. He clears his throat a lot afterward.

Wilford: Helegitimately doesn’t realize he’s crying until the sobs start; he sounds almostlike he’s hiccupping and he tries, he tries sohard to smile because of how funny it sounds…Almost immediately they changeinto long, harsh cries as if he’s in physical pain. If he’s really hurting, theforce of them knocks him over. He’ll crouch or go down onto hands and knees,caterwauling all the while, as if someone’s slowly killing him.

The Host: Hestiffens, shudders, and rakes his hands through his hair, letting loose anunearthly howl that makes anyone in earshot freeze. That turns into uglysobbing. His blood-tears are such a dark red that they’re almost brown and theysoak through his bandages in a matter of minutes. By the time he stops, thebandages are dripping from the edges and he’s an absolute mess: blood in his nose and his mouth and his hair, on his face,hands, shirt…He looks like he’s been bled within an inch of his life.

Dr.Iplier: Like Dark, it isn’t very obvious that he’s crying. He breathesvery shallowly, swallows a lot, and slumps very low in his chair, pulling hishead mirror off and rubbing his hands up and down his arms to keep himself calm.Sometimes he’ll snuffle and gulp over and over because it’s the only way ofholding himself together. If he starts to lose containment, he’ll press hishands over his mouth and muffle the sobs as best he can.

Google: Hepanics because he hates showingweakness. His systems will start getting overtaxed: his fans start to buzz andhis G emblem will start flickering wildly between all sorts of colors. He’ll stutter for words, try to explain itall away, and end up glitching himself to the point where he freezes. He stayscompletely still, his eyes glazing over and then welling up with coolant, andhe doesn’t make any sound except tiny, desperate little wheezes that no one canhear unless they get really close.

Bing: He takesoff his sunglasses and rubs at his eyes with a thumb and forefinger,half-laughing because he thinks he’s being ridiculous, that androids shouldn’tcry, that all of it will pass. He tries to make jokes to distract himself, butit never works. Then he tries to remind himself that he can’t be any moreridiculous than Google and finds the nearest chair, curling into it andpressing his forehead against his knees. He trembles, rattles, and whimpers, anddoes his best to be discreet about it, but it’s fairly obvious what’shappening.

Yandere: Hegets absolutely hysterical, beyond any chance of calming down. He acts like acombination of a toddler and a teenager, part of him wants comfort and anotherpart of him wants to run and slam his door. He does a lot with his hands whenhe’s crying, rubbing at his eyes, clutching at his uniform and his skirt andhis hair, reaching out for something to hold onto for balance or just wavingthem around uselessly. If he doesn’t sit in time, he’ll stumble blindly aroundlike he’s drunk and usually ends up falling.

Bim: Heswears a lot when he’s trying to hold it together, but the harsh front neverlasts long. He starts breathing a lot deeper and faster and blinks hard,fiddling almost frantically with his suit—jerking his jacket straight, pulling onhis tie, scuffing his shoes against the floor. Sooner or later his deepbreathing exercises turn into helpless, distressed kitten-mewls. He’ll leanagainst the nearest flat surface and hide his face against his forearm, cryingas softly as he can.

SilverShepherd: He bawls, abruptly and childishly, and hates himself for it, but hecan’t help it. As seen in his video, he’ll curl up in the nearest empty corner,sobbing brokenly and holding his hands over his aching chest. He cries with theforce of his entire body and it takes a lot out of him, but it doesn’t takelong for him to run out of tears. He stays where he is, shuddering andwhimpering occasionally until he can muster the strength to get back up.

Edgar: Allof his energy and enthusiasm gets sapped out. He sniffles and shifts his weightback and forth, fiddling with his suspenders, clearing his throat, and “coughing”a lot. He’ll mutter excuses for his sudden change in behavior and then leavethe room as quickly as he can. Once he finds some privacy, he’ll gasp and groanand hiss through his teeth as the tears spill, feeling like he’s humiliatinghimself. He usually forgets to take off his glasses beforehand, so they alwaysneed a thorough cleaning afterward.

King of theSquirrels: He chokes up incredibly quickly; he can’t speak coherently, so hejust whines instead, pulling his furs and cloak as tightly around himself aspossible. He completely withdraws, sinking into them for comfort and rubbinghis face against them, not even caring if he gets peanut butter on them, and assoon as he’s sure no one can see his face, he sobs as hard as he can. Thoughts keepplaying in his head that he’s a failure as a king, but he’s usually able totalk himself down. “The tears will make my subjects’ meal a bit saltier today.”

Jim andJim: The brothers cry very differently. Cameraman Jim is almost completelysilent; the only sounds are muffled sniffs or low, strangled whines because he getstoo choked up to even communicate what he’s feeling. Reporter Jim, on the otherhand, gets hysterical—long, wheezing gasps that lead to panicky, disjointed babblingwhich eventually just dissolve into broken, blubbery moans. Reporter Jim takesa lot longer to calm down than Cameraman Jim does, but once one starts, theother follows and it takes a whilebefore either of them can feel like themselves again.

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e11evenkeys · 3 years

Text

Pitch: The Adventures of Danger Rabbit- Chapter 2 Friendly Friendly (part 2)

By the time I got BJ home, it was getting late. With it being the weekend, I knew Dad wouldn't mind my staying out a little longer, but it's not like I could walk any faster. I spent a long while trekking from one side of town to the other. BJ and her family stayed in West Point while Wes lived down the street from me in Opic on the east side of town.

Creatures were normal in everyday life, but it was always like wandering into another world when I got to visit Wesson's house. His family had a home with doors, windows, and walls, but those were the only normality's clearly present. Of course, a family of satyrs lived differently from a family of humans. Their house appeared to be carved from a single dark wood tree with bark strong enough to stand changing weather. Their plants grew like a garden on steroids. Sides of their walls were covered in vines, moss, and overgrowth. There were always wild animals like squirrels or raccoons in their bushes. Most satyrs were animal-loving, light-hearted, naturalist, so it made sense that they preferred to live in a place similar to the wilds of a forest. Even the inside of their house seemed similar to outdoors. The floors were a type of lush grass that imitated carpet. They had electricity and running water, but it was sparingly present throughout the house. I loved visiting Wes at his place. Hanging out in his room was like going camping without giving up WIFI.

When I made it to Wesson's place, he was waiting for me on the front porch. He let me inside and took me to his bedroom upstairs. His parents didn't own cars, so I wasn't sure whether or not we had the place to ourselves. Once inside his room, he shut the door behind us.

"You said you needed my ears for something," I asked while Wes jumped into his bed and laid in it stretching out while I took a seat across from him in a wooden chair at his desk.

"Yeah, man," he sat up before he continued. "So I have this snake in my wall," he said.

I'm sure there were several animals throughout his house, but how he spoke told me the snake was an irregularity.

"Why is there a snake in your wall?"

"It got out of its tank," he said as if he'd answered the implied question.

"Since when do you have a pet snake?"

"It's not mine. It's the schools."

"Why do you have the school's snake?"

"They were gonna cut him open in biology class."

"Ok..." I said, waiting for him to continue.

"Ms. Harper told me to bring him back, and if I don't, they'll expel me from school."

"There's only a week left in school, though."

"My dad won't care if it's one week or 10," he said.

Wesson's parents weren't strict by most standards. They let him go to school without wearing pants after all, but the standards magical creatures held their kids to in our town could often be high. Or so I was told.

"I've never hunted anything before," I said as we stood up.

"You can hear really well, though, can't you?"

"Yea, but you can talk to animals."

"I have to know where it is before I can talk him out. Come on, man, I'll owe you."

"Alright, Alright."

I didn't want to promise I'd find his snake when I still hadn't seen my pet rabbit after six years. Unsure of where to start, we both stood around waiting for me to do something. It felt awkward, but eventually, I did the only thing I could logically think of. I put my ear to a wall and tried to listen.

I usually tried to tune things out. Always hearing stuff at such a high level could be annoying, so in most situations, it was best not to focus on the noise around me. That may have been my first time legitimately using my ears like sonar. It was a little surprising how well it actually worked.

I could hear the sound of pipes first. The AC was the next thing to catch my attention before I started to notice things moving around. Every home had some amount of bugs in its walls, and some houses even had rats or birds that could go completely unnoticed. I had to tune everything out before I could focus and make out the sound of slithering. I followed the sound throughout the housekeeping, my ear to the wall. Wes stayed behind me, watching me work. He tried to be supportive but couldn't follow how I was making progress well enough to know when actually to cheer or stay silent. After a while, we ended up in the hallway outside of Wesson's bedroom. I took my ear from the wall and held my hand to the spot the snake was resting.

"It's here," I said

"It's there?"

"Yea."

"Ok, watch out," he said as he moved me out of the way.

"What are you gonna do," I asked, but I received my answer just as quickly.

Without any hesitation, Wes punched a hole in the wall. It wasn't my place to tell him what not to do in his home, but I was pretty sure no one's parents would be happy to come home to holes in the wall.

"Wes," I said, still shocked at how reckless my friend was. I laughed, but I was concerned.

"Don't worry, the house is made of living wood, it'll fix itself," he said as he reached his hand through the hole and dug around.

"If you say so," I replied while I watched.

He must have found it because he started speaking in some language that mimicked snake hissing. Before long, he pulled the scaled creature out and held it around his arm.

"Thanks, man," he said as he turned to me.

"Any time."

He tried to hug me, and I might have let him, if not for the snake jumping from his arm and biting me. I should have seen it coming; of course, a snake would see a man-sized rabbit and think, "that's my next meal." It wasn't venomous, but it was big. As it sank its fangs into the palm of my hand, I thought for sure it was going to come off.

"Shit," I exclaimed as I threw the green reptile away.

Wes scolded the snake as if it were a child while I held my hand, trying to stop the bleeding. That's when I heard Wesson's mom yell up at us, "boys." So they were home. Wes put the snake away in his room before walking me to the bathroom and helping me clean and wrap my hand. He thought it was funny.

"I hope they cut that thing open twice," I said.

"He didn't mean anything by it."

"It was going to eat me."

"Harold was not going to eat you."

"You named the snake!?"

"No... he already had a name."

I couldn't help but crack up. I was still pissed about my hand, but the way Wes was with animals was nothing short of endearing if not adorable.

"Sorry about the jacket," I said, noticing I ruined it with my bloodstains.

It's a good thing it wasn't his usual jacket. He always wore the same hoodie I got him a couple of years back for his birthday. Come to think of it; I don't think he wore clothes before I got him that jacket.

"It's cool, man. You mind if I take it off?"

"You know I can see your dick every time you stand up or stretch, don't you," I replied in a joking tone, but I was serious to some degree.

His fur usually acted as covering enough to forget he didn't wear anything below the belt, but sometimes things would slip through or be easier to notice depending on how he stood or walked.

"Sorry, nature endowed me so well my natural coat can't hide it all."

He shed the extra layer, and for a moment, I couldn't help but realize we were sitting in a bathroom together. He was naked aside from his fur, and we were basically holding hands while he helped me with the bandages. I didn't mean to spaz out, but I yanked my hand away to finish wrapping up on my own. I don't think he was bothered by it, but he must have noticed the unusual tension sitting in the air because he broke the silence. Satyrs had a reputation for being very sexual creatures. You couldn't look them up online without finding porn or stories of sexual exploits. Wes never tried anything with me, and we were friends, but knowing what he was, I figured it was best to avoid provoking any of his natural instincts. I felt a little racist for thinking Wes would be so stereotypically sexually charged that he'd suddenly do something like that, but it was better to be safe than awkwardly sorry, in my opinion.

"What were you and Bug Burner talking about earlier?"

"BJ wants me to apply for a magician's internship with her," I said while we left the bathroom together.

"I thought you hated magic," he said.

"I hate being a rabbit."

"But rabbits are cool."

"No one wants to fuck a rabbit," I joked.

We went back to his room. I stood by the window looking through it up at what might have been stars or satellites. My dad had to have made it home from work by then.

Wes came and stood by my side before asking, "Is that why you're doing the internship?"

"I don't know if I'm doing it yet. BJ said even if we apply, there's no guarantee we'll get in."

That tension was still present, less dense, but still floating around. I didn't think a jacket mattered much when Wes never wore pants, but it made a difference. With his chest and abs out, he was more naked than usual, and I'm not sure how I felt about it.

"For what it's worth, I hope you don't. There's this festival coming up in a few weeks. It's supposed to be one of the longest ever held, and if my parents let me go, I was thinking maybe you could come too."

"What kind of festival?"

"STR," he said as he left my side to find the laptop on his desk. He pulled up a website with information and brought it to me. The first thing I noticed was the lack of humans in all the advertising pictures.

"Isn't that a magical creature type thing?"

"Which we both are," he said, taking a seat in his wooden chair while I leaned my back against his bedroom window.

"I'm not," I said.

"No one would know unless we told them, and if you're trying to get some action, maybe you'll have better luck if you're open to more than human options,” Wes added.

"You mean date an elf, or a troll?"

"Or a satyr."

"Maybe," I said with a grin, "but let's worry about getting the snake back to school first."

#story #magic #anthropomorphic #rabbit #snakebites #original character #original content #satyr character #lgbtq

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blueberryrock · 4 years

Text

Here is the next chapter, I really don't know what else to say except enjoy!

(Yellow's pov)

"I'm sorry Yellow, but I can't help anymore, I've done all I've can," Steven Universe says over a diamond communicator "I'd love to keep helping you look for her, but I've got some stuff I need to do on earth, but–" I cut him off.

"No, no, I get it. You've spent a lot of your time helping me look for Blue, I'm very grateful, I'll keep you updated if we find anything" I say exhaustedly.

"Sorry, " he apologizes again " what I was going to say was, after I'm done with the stuff I need to do, I'll come back and help" he determinedly says.

I sadly smile at him, but it quickly vanishes as I say goodbye to him and hang up. I rub my tired eyes, ever since Blue has gone missing, I've been working my ass off trying to find her.

But I've had no hope, we'll expect for all the quartz's Blue Pearl found poofed on the Oasis's moon. But they don't even know where they're keeping her.

And every rotation that I've lost searching is another rotation she could be shattered or worse.

And to make matters worse, she is still pregnant. I groan at that last part. I need to get off my ass and go out and search planets.

But instead of doing that, I am currently sitting on my bed wasting time. I let out a tired front as I get off of the bed, I summon a yellow screen and I send a message to Yellow Pearl, telling her to get my ship ready.

As soon as Yellow Pearl says it's ready hastily warp to my ship. The huge golden ship is gleaming in the sunlight, I sadly sigh as I glance at Blue's unused ship.

"I will find you" I mutter to myself. I climb up the many flights of stairs to reach the entrance of the ship. I carelessly stomp through the empty golden halls of the ship, only slowing down when I reach the cockpit.

I throw myself into the somewhat comfortable driver's seat, I take a deep breath to prepare myself as my right arm is engulfed by a golden light. I relax once the noise of the engines starts roaring as I leave the ground. The beautiful purple-blue sky of homeworld quickly changes into the inky blackness of space.

I tilt my arm more towards the right to steer the huge ship to an old galaxy the I haven't visited in eons.

(Blues pov)

I groan as I slowly sit up. The bright sunlight that pours in my small cell nearly blinds me for a few seconds. I rub the exhaustion from my eyes, I'm being very careful that I don't move my very injured arm.

It stopped bleeding a while ago, but it still hurts like a bitch whenever I move. Which is why I only move off of the bed to grab food.

Luckily, none of the fusions have visited me yet. After three days they finally gave me another pillow, a nice soft plush one! They probably think that I won't destroy this one, which is true.

I delicately comb my thin hand through my dirty hair, I gingerly put my weaker hand on my big baby belly. I'm now currently seven and a half months pregnant starting today.

I sigh as hunger washes over me, I slowly reach over from the bed to "Padparadscha" a small pink and orange plant.

I slowly grab all the small sour fruits that the plant produces. I quickly shovel all six of them into my mouth, I twitch from the very sour taste.

As soon as I swallow the last of the nasty fruit a large group of gems walks into my cell. With, of course, they're two leaders at the front.

"Finally you're awake!" Black opal says happily "We've, I mean she" Opal nods to the huge pastel fusion standing next to her "thought today would be a great day to run medical scans!"

"Yes, today we will heal your arm" the pastel fusion glares at my still bandaged arm "and check up on the gemlings," she says smoothly.

She ushers the medical gems to bring the equipment forward. "Luckily, since someone gave the command to slice your arm open," she says harshly, the smaller of the two fusions takes a few nervous steps back "we hopefully won't need to restrain you very much"

"I wouldn't say that" I grit through my teeth.

"If you thrash about, you'll only make it worse," the big fusion says gently. She presses a button the lets the medical gems into my small cell "we don't want to hurt you"

"My sliced arm says otherwise" I sneer.

"That was a mistake from someone who was having 'fun' " she glares at Black Opal with all four black eyes.

"W-well I see that I'm not needed" Opal squeaks. She quickly turns around and runs out of the room.

"Thank the stars" I quietly mutter to myself.

The big fusion only shakes her head, her long rainbow locks following her every move "I, won't hurt you. And I'll make sure she won't either"

"Cause that reassures me soo much," I say sarcastically.

"It should. Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way" her soft voice sends a shiver down my spine.

"Fine, I choose the easy way" I sigh.

"Good, good, there really no reason to put up a fight. In the end, we both want the same thing" she evilly grins.

"We do?"

"In a way, I won't explain it ...but I will say that we both want the gemlings to be nice and healthy" she gestures the gems to bring the scanner forward.

I sit as still as I possibly can while they use a small handheld scanner to scan me and remove the makeshift bandaid around my now stinging arm.

I let out a low hiss as they put some sort of healing paste on it and wrap it back up. "That should clear up rather soon," a small aquamarine with a squeaky voice says.

I weakly smile at her as the other gems work on getting the scanner to work. After a few long minutes of them just pressing buttons and muttering to themselves, the small gems finally get the scanner to work.

"Sorry 'bout that boss, it's an older model so we had to convert it from solar to a fuel system" a dark blue and gold Lapis Lazuli scratches her head.

"Why did you do that?" The tall fusion slightly raises her voice.

"I'm sorry, but it's the only way we could get it to work" the Lapis shrinks back.

"Fine. It's fine. Just hurry it up" the fusion snaps. The Lapis nods and tells the other gems to hurry it up.

And finally, the scanner actually does its job for once and quickly scans me from head to toe. Only beeping when it hits my belly and my arm.

"Alright, here are the results" a Peridot hands a light green screen to the pastel fusion.

"Finally" she quietly mumbles "good news! Aside from your arm being cut open, you're perfectly fine." She shoots me a grin.

"And that means?" I lean forward a bit.

"It means you're fine, and the gemlings are growing just as intended." She hands the screen back to the small Peridot, the fusion signals all the gems to leave.

As soon as she steps past the electric field, it quickly closes, leaving no evidence of its opening.

I gently lay down on my back, careful not to disturb my arm. I close my eyes and wait for the big metal doors to close.

I place my non-injured arm in my baby belly, tracing slow circles on top. "Don't worry, Yellow will come for us soon. You two can count on it" I whisper to the gemlings and myself.

I pull the now clean and soft thin blanket over me. I stare up at the ceiling, the green sunlight from the tiny window dances across the room.

"I hope"

(Yellow's pov)

Useless.

This is utterly useless.

I've been searching planet after planet, moon after moon, but nothing. No trace of any gems, gem ships, or working gem tech.

I angrily drum my fingers on the armrest of my golden throne and sloppily dodge any and all asteroids that are in my way.

And I've searched all asteroid belts and no sign of anything. I don't understand, I should have found her by now.

Their base should've popped up on the radar....Unless.....They're invisible....

Ha! Invisible! That sounds like something that Steven would suggest...Although, I do recall White asking me to stop working on something like that a millennium ago..... Unless someone started working on it again. Damn this just became a thousand times harder.

I jerk my hand off of the steering platform, causing the ship to come to an abrupt halt. I summon a screen and quickly type my theory to both White and Steven.

Even if he won't be searching I told him I'll keep him updated. As soon as that's done, I pull up the star map and locate the nearest planet.

I hastily put my hand back on the steering platform, too impatient to wait for the golden light to consume my arm I jerk my hand forward cause the ship to go as fast as it possibly can.

I slow down when I come to a very familiar area and a very familiar planet. Automatically, my ship pulls up a screen showing information about this planet.

Most of the file has been lost, except for the name of the planet (which was planet 2947). But the planet is large, hollowed out, and red.

I carefully land my ship on the ancient landing pad, it lets out a slight creak as I fully land on it. I turn off the engines and a golden bubble surrounds me.

I don't have much hope for this planet but it never hurts to look. After cycles of wandering around, I decide to go back to the ship and go to the next one.

The second planet I've searched used to be a water planet with purple water and gorgeous blue skies. But now it's once bluegrass is now murky brown mud.

If I remember correctly, this was my second colony. I cautiously cross a dried-up river bed, I kick a small rock across a field of dead grass. This is useless, nothing is out here.

It isn't until a strange, quiet, beeping noise stops me from leaving. I quickly whip around, I start a light jog back through the field until the beeping stops.

Out of the corner of my eye, a small pink object quickly looks up and disappears in the grass. I quickly chase after it, luckily the being is a very bright shade of pink so I easily find it.

I grab the small pink being, it has long fluffy pink hair that covers most of her face, with skin a few shades darker. They're wearing a short pink dress with tons of ruffles.

"Sapphire, how did you get here and what are you doing here?" I ask.

She slightly squirms in my fist, her small hands pound on mine. "Please let me go" her soft voice pleads.

I sigh and release my tight hold on her, she neatly sits in my hands with hers neatly crossed in her lap.

"I know why you're here, but what you're looking for is nowhere near" she calmly says.

"Don't give me that bullshit, if you know where Blue is, then tell me" I say angrily.

"I don't know what planetoid she is on directly, but I do know the galaxy" she tucks some loose strands of her fluffy hair behind her ear.

"Then. Hurry. Up. And. Tell. Me."

The pink sapphire stops to think, she runs her chin with her small involved hand. "You will find her in the Stracks galaxy" she grins.

I look away from the small gem to think "The Stracks..." I mutter to myself, all the anger quickly seeps out of me. My eyes slowly slide back to the still grinning gem "I don't think I've heard of that galaxy"

"It was where White Diamond's first few colonies (besides homeworld) were. Most didn't have any materials, so they were spared" The pink Sapphire says "I suspect that she is on one of those spared planets"

"Thank you. Thank you so much!" I chirp.

"My pleasure" she grins again.

"I do have one question" I set the little sapphire on the ground "why are you here?"

"We both have someone to look for, and I highly suspect that she is here" the pink sapphire brushes any of the dirt off of her dress and floats away.

"Umm, good luck" I quickly say before I turn around and head for the ship.

Don't worry I'm coming Blue.

#bellow diamond #blue diamond su #su blue diamond #blue diamond #su yellow diamond #yellow diamond #suf #fanfic #my first fanfic #fandom

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forkanna · 7 years

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[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTE: Yes this one is super short, too. Sorry! Next one will be better.

Let's skip to a couple days later. Not much else happened other than smarmy grossness. Of course, that still wouldn't be the usual level of pure, grade-A Canadian maple sap given that I was part of the relationship, but it was cute. Lots of takeout and movies, gaming, snuggling. Things that I had to get used to since none of my previous significant others had ever stuck around long enough.

Well… other than Scott.

Maybe that's why he was on my mind so much during that time. Literally the only other long-term relationship I'd had was him, and we were in high school, trying to figure ourselves out as much as we were trying to figure out each other and how to combine those two factors. Opening up those memories was like watching him drive away all over again, but I kept doing it. Had to figure out if there was some weird nugget of truth in there somewhere that could help me figure out how not to fuck everything up with Knives.

Scott and I didn't "date" much. It was definitely a benefriends situation; we were buds who started boinking in the back of my parents' car. So all of our activities were about the same as they had been before; practicing music, hanging out with Lisa Miller. We didn't do much that was coupley other than holding hands and sex. From what I heard, Scott got all those romantic experiences from Natalie after he dropped me like a bad habit.

So why did I keep thinking about him if there wasn't much wisdom to be had? Because I didn't have any other experiences to compare it with.

I'm pretty pathetic. But at least I had someone to call and ask for advice. He might not be the most monogamous person I know, but he is a flaming queer, and has had more success in the dating arena than pretty much anyone else in my extended circle. Maybe using my phone-a-friend lifeline counted as cheating, but when working with such a severe handicap, I figure it all shakes out.

~ o ~

"Well, well, well," Wallace Wells half-purred in that voice of his. You know the one. "The redhead."

"That is the colour of my hair, yes," I grumbled.

"Didn't expect to ever hear from you again once Ess Bee Bee and that other thing broke up. See you around in that bump-into-people-you-knew-through-people-in-Honest-Ed's way, sure…"

Gripping my drumstick tighter as I sat on my drumset's seat — the seat of power, a place from which I drew comfort and ability to cope with life — I said, "Same. But I got your number from Stacey, because… I need help."

"'Fraid I'm fresh outta that stuff."

"Help? You're 'out' of help. Really?"

"Yep. The generic kind. But if you elaborate, I might have a specific flavour blend in stock…"

He was definitely going to make me work for this. So I decided to stop being shy and cut through the double-talk and uncertainty. "I'm dating Knives."

The line was quiet for a moment. "That sounds painful. My advice is to buy plenty of bandages for when things get frisky."

"No, Knives Chau. Scott's ex."

"Oh!" he said in a pleasant tone of voice. Even now, I'm not totally sure whether he was trolling me or if he really didn't think I meant her the first time. "She was cute in a Pokémon trainer kind of way. Didn't think you played in the kiddie pool."

"She's in college now, you asshat. But I could use some advice."

"Advice for dating women? Fresh out of that, too."

Gritting my teeth, I said, "Wallace…"

"Alright, alright. So you're edging onto the Rainbow Road and you're afraid of flying off the side. I gotcha. Assuming that's the reason you called me instead of someone else you know…?"

"There's nobody else. Stephen's pretty much the only other person I could call, but he gives terrible advice. Hollie is in Nowhereville with Jason, who knows? And Steph… I just don't know her very well. Or maybe too well. I'm really not sure which."

"That makes me the bartender."

"What?"

"You know, the nameless bartender you tell all your deepest, darkest secrets to in hopes he can give you guidance because you're too blasted to figure out he couldn't care less about your life."

"Fine, nevermind. God, sorry to have bothered you."

But he was chuckling. "Alright, alright. I'm half-kidding; I barely know you and don't care that much, but you're family now. That has to be taken into consideration."

"I'm… family?"

"Gay family. A budding bisexual, right?"

"Y-yeah." I cleared my throat to get rid of that uncertain quaver. "I guess."

"We all start out 'guessing'. It's okay." He let out a long sigh, and there was the sound of something being moved around; he was probably working on something in his apartment, or at his job. Whatever that was. "How long have you two been having playdates?"

"A couple weeks, or whatever," I growled, ignoring the insult.

"How far have you gone?" When I let out a strangled noise, he reassured me, "For informational purposes only. Trust me, I'm not going to get off on two girls doing anything. If there's not at least one dick involved, it's off my curiosity list."

I started to correct him that one was involved, but again I felt that instinct to protect her identity kick in. Maybe I should ask her if she minded me telling people at some point. "Dry-humping. She's kind of… never done it, and I haven't done it with a girl. I swear, if you tell anyb-"

"Lips are sealed. Do you want it to go further?"

"YES! But I mean, only if she's ready."

"Good, that's good. I've had a hesitant date or two. No still means no, and that's more important than all the prep work in the world, but I have a couple ideas that could help get her in the mood."

That one hit me hard. Luckily, I just barely listened to her "no"s when we were drunk as skunks. Nodding as I chewed on my drumstick, I then put it down and said, "That'll help, but I'm actually more worried about… other stuff. Like, how to be in a relationship with a cute, bubbly, fun girl when I'm a vortex of despair."

"Opposites attract. Chances are, she already likes you because you're a vortex of despair. Not usually something people put on their eHarmony profile, though." But apparently, I had him curious. "What other stuff?"

"Dating. I suck at it. Like…" I tried to lower my defenses. "She's so sweet to me, and I feel like I'm just there. Sucking all the fun out of the room. I want her to feel what I feel. Or I guess, to show her that. Something."

"Awww, baby lesbians are so cute. Like puppies."

"Ugh…"

Then he sighed again, a long, floaty sigh of someone toying with someone else. Which would be me. "Alright, never fear — Wallaciraptor is here. Let's help you get rolling…"

~ o ~

When Knives walked in the door, I could tell she was caught off-guard by the way her purse fell to the floor instead of being set down. "Kim? I… what's going on?"

"Nothing," I lied as I bent over to take the casserole out of the oven, showing off my bare ass. Just below the apron strings. Yes, I really did the cliché. Yes, it was super uncomfortable for me, since I'm not exactly a flesh-flashing kinda girl. But I thought, hey, it was worth a shot. "Making dinner."

Which was also part of the plan. There were multiple parts; I didn't know which one to try, so I tried everything. One big gesture to try and prove to both Knives and myself that I could be a girlfriend, and not just some drummer chick who acts like she's on the rag all the time.

"Yeah, but you're naked! I mean… almost!"

"You like it? I thought the green apron brought out my eyes." It still came out sounding sarcastic, even though I didn't mean for it to. My voice just sounds that way unless I'm actively suppressing the biting tone, and even then sometimes it bleeds through.

"Um…" Deciding not to comment on my butt, she turned toward the stove. "Smells great! We're having casserole?"

"Yes. And garlic bread. That's not done yet, though. And, um…" I glanced at my coffee table, where there was a cabernet open and "breathing" — Wallace's suggestion. I would have just put a couple of beers down to go with dinner, or at least uncorked the wine right before drinking it.

Knives walked over and touched one of the wine glasses with a finger. I got them from a dollar store specifically for this occasion, since I didn't own any before. Then she picked up the remote for the stereo system, which was pretty conspicuous because it was the only other thing on the table. "What's this do?"

"Hit 'play'," I said as I got out plates.

She did. And quiet, soft, romantic piano music started floating out of the speakers. Also from the dollar store, but I listened to the whole CD before using it to make sure it wasn't too terrible. She laughed… but it was a very specific, actual happy laugh. Not so much at my expense as just surprised at the situation, I guess.

"What is all this?" she asked as she went back over to kick off her work shoes and leave them by the purse. "Like… I thought we were just going to have cup ramen and watch TV."

"Wanted to try something else. Um… y-you'll have to tell me if it's any good. Never tried this recipe before." Hell, I don't think I'd ever cooked anything more complex than a frozen pizza in forever.

Once she was in the kitchen, she put her hand in the small of my back. "I'm sure I'll love it." Then she shivered and smiled shyly, withdrawing from the touch. "Not used to touching your skin like that."

"I can change if it's more comfortable for you. This was kind of just… y'know. The 'naked housewife fantasy' bit as a joke. Or maybe not a joke, if you liked it."

"Trying to get me in the mood?" she guessed with a slightly wry smile. When I flushed a little darker, she stopped smiling. "Wait… oh, is this really what that is?"

"Not exactly. But… kind of. I just… wanted to be a good girlfriend, or something like that. I dunno."

The silence was kind of tense. She didn't look angry, just a little confused and contemplating the whole situation. Then she glanced at the oven and back at me.

"How much longer? For the garlic bread."

"About another five. I'll be quick." Clearly, she wanted me in real clothes, which I already had laid out on my dresser. Ready for plan B.

And I was more okay with that than I first expected. Sure, it hurt a little that she didn't know how to feel about me being naked while we ate, but at the same time, neither did I. Just seemed like a weird idea. But Wallace swore it worked like a charm on this one guy he was dating, so I figured I'd give it a shot. No real harm.

Once I was wearing a nice white blouse and a long grey skirt, we got our plates loaded down with casserole and bread and moved things to the table, where we sat cross-legged and ate and drank. She told me about her day, and I told her about mine until the point at which I started getting dinner ready, which I didn't think was interesting — until she started demanding more details with her cute, patient way of doing everything. Incredibly, stories about me buying ingredients and wine glasses was actual entertainment for her.

And somehow, she managed to out-girlfriend me again. Shut up, I know it's not a competition… I know. But even after I drove like a thousand miles outside my comfort zone, hoping to really show her how much I cared and how much she meant to me, Knives was already there and had a jetpack to fly even further. She started doing the dishes as soon as we took our plates to the kitchen, said it was her turn to cook next time when I wasn't expecting it, asked if I had a long day, offered to rub my back when I moved my neck and made the world's tiniest wince… and she gave me the rub, and it felt so good. Told me I looked really cute in the outfit before I could ask. Sweetness and sunshine.

What kind of jerk was she to be so perfect?

To Be Continued…

#kim pine's precious little knives #forkanna writes #scott pilgrim fanfiction #wallace wells #scott pilgrim vs. the world #kim pine #kim x knives #forkanna the writer

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ramblinginsecurities · 7 years

Text

DEPRESSIVE RANT WARNING!!!! POSSIBLE TRIGGERS!!!!

********The following is the rant I sent him. Note, this rant contains Self fat shaming, depressive thoughts, and references to wanting to commit suicide*******??

If I had to give my mind an image, then it’s Carnival glass. The type that are in fun houses. Built like a maze. You look in and the image is all distorted. But the edges are sharp and if I touch or fall onto them then I bleed out. I bleed out until I’m too tired to move.

I bump into them all the time. I bleed out all the time. I impale myself on them. I wish for it to end all the time. To die all the time.

The only peace I get is those rare sleeping spells were my mind is blank and black. I know I’m sleeping but I can’t think. My demons can't taunt me then.

One of the mirrors holds my image. I’m fat and I’m ugly and I want to cry when I see it. I don’t think that’s illusion, but the reality. The illusion is the me in my mind outside the mirror. So pretty and skinny and cute. And confident. The me in the mirror is scared. And mumbles “I’m fat.” Under her breath constantly. And if I stare long enough then I start to repeat her, but louder. Sometimes they hear me, but they ignore it.

They agree with the me in the mirror. They just are too polite to say it.

I know how to change this. I just need to work out. Walk more, bike more, lift more. Eat better, eat less.

And I try. But then it does nothing. The scale reads heavier. My stomach grows bigger. I'm awash with self doubt and continously ask myself “is this worth it? Is it working?”

“Well you’d be healthier if you lost weight.” I know. I’m trying.

Somedays I contemplate not eating. Some days I have to force myself to eat something, anything. Somedays I have to remind myself that if the healthy food isn’t there that I still need to eat becuse not eating is “worse”.

Somedays I don’t have the will or energy to cook. Somedays I ask others to. On the worst days I’ll beg others to.

Most days I’m told no, there’s food at home, I can do it myself.

Somedays I just want to die.

I don’t focus on that mirror unless I look at a real one. Or get dressed. Hence why I try to avoid them, and change only once a day if I can help it. Sometimes not at all.

Other mirrors pop up randomly in the maze.

Multiple mirrors reflect my self doubt.

Like my insecurites about how others think of me. They hate me. I’m annoying.

One of them is for what I do. I’m never good enough. I always do things wrong. It replays my problems, things that I’ve tried so hard to fix, that I’ve made plans on how to “fix” but still failed, on a repeated loop.

I can’t even put Kiddo’s shoes on correctly.

I can’t even do basic math.

I can’t even remember to do basic things. Like switch the laundry. Or do something at a specific time. I’m forever forgetful and an incoveience. Maybe it’d just be better if I was gone, and not an inconvience or an obstacle anymore.

I’ve become so accustomed to self medicating this. Simple repetive tasks. Feeling like I’m acomplishing something. I’m not a fuck up. I can do this.

It’s why I don’t leave work. In the kennels I’m doing something. In the kennels I help the dogs/cats and I get rewarded with love and affection. I don’t fuck up to them.

Some days I get the urge to “fix” things. To clean the rooms that make me want to go sleep. I get a little bit in and stop. I can’t deal with it. I just want to stop. Start over. Run away to somewhere clean. Somewhere with nothing in it. Not even me. Especially not me.

Another mirror is my sexuality. That’s gotten better by stopping the meds. But I’m never sexy enough, I never want sex enough, I never want it at the right times, I always do things that prevent it from being possible for long periods of time. I'm too vanilla, I’m too merciless, I don’t have enough dexterity to try new positions. I never feel enough, I’m always worried I’m faking it. Am I? I don’t know.

“It’s fine.” No, it’s not. I see it on your face and in your eyes everytime I say anything or say no.

“I’m used to it.” The unhappiness radiates from you with each word. I want to scream. A gutteral, anguished scream.

That’s why I suggested the open relationship. I want to see you happy. I need to see you happy. I need to know I’m not taking you with me.

The mirror that lurks by this one reflects how much I don’t make you happy. Every moment of anger, every tear. I prick my finger on it and I start gushing out all of my blood. It’s why I get edgy. I’m trying to stop the hemorrhaging.

I see how you are with everyone else. Happy. Happy to see them. Happy to be with them. No anger. You focus back on me and I’ve fucked up again. You’re disapointed, you’re angry. I get so scared it’ll be the end. The last straw. But I can’t fix it. Sometimes I think we’re doing great and it’s back.

Every time you look at me endearingly I can’t believe it. You’re faking it, you’re lying. To me, to yourself. Jump ship. Leave. It’s drowning anyways. Don’t drown too. You only drown when I’m with you.

And then like clockwork the problems are back. I’m always waiting with baited breath, the list of how I've failed you again. And that list is different each day.

The other mirror is kiddo. Somedays… somedays all the pain goes away with this mirror. Somedays I hold this mirror tight, never wanting to let go. Somedays, I’m good enough. Somedays, I don’t fuck up.

Most days, it’s a bandage. Most days a smile keeps me from giving up completely.

Bad days, I’m a total fuck up. A horrible mom.

I don’t deserve him. I don’t desrve to live.

Bad days I can’t hold his hand. Bad days he needs to be away from me. It hurts. I want to walk away. If I make him go to you and walk away slowly you’d never notice. I could disapear into the crowd.

Bad days you push him back repeatedly and I want to scream. I’m agitated.

Don’t leave him with me. I'm tainted. I'm poison.

He’s going to end up fucked up like me.

I distance myself. I try to self medicate by distration. If I can’t think, I won’t feel. I wait for the storm to pass. Some days takes longer than others. Sometimes I need to sleep it off. Others I wait days until it’s gone.

Sleep instead of answer the call to sever the blue jutting out from my skin. Would it hurt? Or would I stop hurting?

I stare at my hands and wrists a lot.

Sometimes I distance myself because it’ll be harder to miss something that you felt was never there to begin with. Maybe it'll be better then.

Somedays I have the energy to try and fix things. It’s limited energy and I know it. I try to fix everything and I stretch too thin. I burn out. Instead of being fixed it’s worse than when I started. So I try to focus on one problem at a time. And then the rest get worse. And very little progress is made. So I alternate and it still doesn’t help.

I ask for help and I’m told sure but nothing gets better. It never gets better. It always gets worse.

Why can’t I just do everything at the same time like a normal person?

I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Maybe I need help? I laugh. Right help. Help when I can’t open up. When I’m afraid of the verdict if I do.

I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him. I can’t.

Then I’ll just give in.

How can I ask for help when no one knows I need it? When I can smile even when I’m dead and numb. When I can fool even myself in to thinking that I’m alright. I’m doing better.

Kill me. Laugh it off. It’s a joke. It’s a joke.

It’s not.

I’m too afraid to do it myself. I’ll end up regreting if it takes too long. I’ll change my mind. I cant do it quick because what if I would (change my mind)?

If someone does it for me then it’s for the best. It’s not my choice. It was just deemed better that way.

Just take him to the park. Just throw the ball around with him.

How do you expect me to have the motivation or energy to do those things when I don’t have the motivation or energy to breathe? To existe?

I just want to lay down and die. I just want to forget to breathe.

Autopilot on numb.

Please just kill me.

#suicidal thoughts #suicide #kill me #rant #deprssion #weight problems #fat shaming

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