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demons-and-demigods · 2 months

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Demons and Demigods Part Six: Tartarus

Edit 4/12/24: okay so I might come back to this part and rewrite it at some point. I'll make a second post for that just to keep this one around bc i do like it, i just think it could be More lol

Alright, so this part is gonna be part hand-wavey transitions part written scene. I didn't want to split it up, so you'll just have to bear with me here for this one. This part also features dark!percy and, you know, The Horrors. Let me know if you want any warnings added to this one and I'll add them.

They get to Rome, split up to do their things, find Nico, fight the twins, Annabeth finds the Athena Parthenos, etc. Sam and Dean are stuck in Mystery Spot the same day Percabeth falls into Tartarus. And because demigods are ~weird~ they can all sense that something is off each repeat (especially because Percy and Annabeth seem Extra Off), and the Wednesday that Dean dies and then stays dead for four months is really fucking weird bc the demigods are just like, they know that nothing they do now is gonna stick they can feel it and Gaea and the Giants have like, stopped pulling shit so they’re just like wtf is going on. Then the world resets again and Percabeth has just fallen into Tartarus and off we go to continue the story. The demigods can sense that whatever was going on is over now and they hustle to get back to work. 

Percabeth did not get reset because Tartarus works different and is beyond the reach and powers of a trickster (even if said trickster is actually the archangel Gabriel in disguise) so they were falling for longer than is canon and then spent a lot longer down there than in canon bc I’m a sadist <3 so the Percy and Annabeth that the rest of the seven interacted with on each reset were just illusions repeating canned lines.

(I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: this is my au and I can fuck with the timelines if I want to, so I am. Does it make sense? No. Do I care? Also no. I'm just having fun, don't think about any of it too hard.)

Now begins The Horrors.

Percabeth is in Tartarus dealing with The Horrors for like, a year. Between the topside Mystery Spot resets not affecting the Pit and time working differently down there anyway, it’s a long ass time for them. Tartarus is Large, it takes a long time to traverse its expanse. They suffer through drinking the fire water and trying desperately to stay alive to make it to the Doors. It’s been months and they’ve both started to lose themselves a little to the nature of the Pit. Percy is a little more vicious when cutting down monsters, Annabeth is a little slower to reign him in. It’s . . . almost easier down there. It’s all cut a dry. It’s just kill or be killed. It’s us or them. There is nothing but fight and kill and stay alive and always keep moving. It’s simple. 

Bob shows up and it’s a reminder that there’s more out there, a reminder of who they were and what they’re fighting for when they had begun to forget that there had ever been anything other than Hell. They regain a little bit of who they were before the Fall. 

The arai fuck shit up real bad lmao. They fight and get cursed and then Annabeth is blinded and she can’t find Percy and Percy is enraged. He stops caring about anything but getting to her, he doesn’t care about all the curses he is taking on, he can’t feel the pain of them anymore. The arai fall all around him with every swing of his sword. The curses pile up and still he doesn’t stop. They mean nothing in the face of his rage and desperation to get back to Annabeth’s side. 

And then it happens. He cuts down an arai and then he’s on the ground. Annabeth is still calling for him and the arai are laughing at him. The curse of Phineas, they cackle. A slow, painful death for the son of Poseidon who has caused so much suffering and pain; it is fitting. 

Percy is in unbearable pain; his blood is boiling in his veins and his skin is sloughing off his bones. His head is pounding and throbbing and he thinks it might explode. His muscles are burning and tearing themselves apart as his bones liquify. He knows that he is dying and fears that he won’t. Still he tries to get up, tries to stand and continue fighting. He refuses to go out without a fight, and he refuses to leave Annabeth to suffer the nightmares of this place alone. 

He manages to get back to his feet, although he has no idea how, and he has not the strength to lift his sword, barely the strength to grip it. And so he lunges, ripping the arai apart with hands and teeth as he burns, everything burning burning burning. But Annabeth is always just out of reach and his strength cannot last forever. He goes down. His vision is fading and he can’t tell if he’s breathing, he’s not even sure he has lungs to breathe with anymore. With the last of his strength he turns his gaze to the vaguely silver outline of where Bob is standing off to the side and prays. He begs with the shredded remains of his deteriorating mind for Bob to keep Annabeth safe. He apologizes for never visiting, for being a bad friend. 

And then the lights go out and Percy knows that this is it. He has a moment to wonder if his soul will remain trapped in Tartarus for all eternity or if it will manage to escape. With his luck, he doubts it. 

Bob moves, then. He clears away the arai and grabs Annabeth before she walks off the cliff. He heals her and carries her over to where Percy is lying still on the ground. Annabeth begs Bob to help him, cradles him in her arms and tells him that he can’t die, he can’t leave her to find the Doors alone, she needs him. Bob tries to heal him. 

Percy is a gruesome sight. He’s bleeding from a hundred different wounds, one of his legs looks broken and there is bone sticking out of his arm. He’s covered in blood and bruises and burns and he’s far too cold. 

Bob manages to fix most of the wounds and heals the broken bones. But the gorgon’s blood poison is beyond his abilities to take care of. They head to Damasen’s. 

Annabeth is wary, but desperate, and Bob is holding Percy so she had no choice but to follow. 

Damasen helps them, albeit reluctantly. Percy slowly gets better. Annabeth is thankful for the weeks of rest they get at Damasen’s hut while Percy recovers. Eventually, however, Percy is as healed as he is going to get in Tartarus, where the very air they breathe is slowly killing them, and they need to move on. 

It’s slow progress, heading towards the lady Bob says can help them with the death mist stuff, but they make it. Bob couldn’t come with them all the way, but he promised to meet them afterwards. 

And then Misery herself shows up and she is going to kill them. After everything else they’ve been through, after everything else they’ve done to get this far, they’re going to die at the hands of a sniveling, whining old hag? No. 

Percy is angry. He is furious. He wrests control of the poison from her and reverses its flow. He grabs hold of her tears and snot and saliva and forces it back, making her sob harder and it only gives him more to work with. Annabeth stands back and watches. 

Percy sees just how much misery Misery can take. She is begging him to let her go and he can’t help but laugh. It’s pitiful, how quickly she’s given in, given up. That cracked glass orb somewhere in the core of him shatters. And all of a sudden, he can feel. He can sense the congestion rattling in her lungs and the ichor pumping through her veins. 

He wants to grab hold of it, grab hold of everything in her and make her scream. He wants to make her feel even a fraction of the pain that he and Annabeth have had to endure down here. 

But then Annabeth’s ghoulish hand is on his arm and he turns to look at her and her eyes are sharp, even from beneath the guise of the death mist, and she shakes her head. He tilts his, asking, are you sure? He can kill this goddess, he is suddenly certain of this fact, and he would, if Annabeth told him to. She shakes her head again. 

He clears a path and lets Misery go. 

Nyx is frightening, yes, but Percy can feel the ichor in her veins just as easily as he could in Misery’s. He is not as afraid as he knows he should be. 

They survive the House of Night and make it to the other side intact. 

Percy can sense Annabeth’s heart pounding as they run, can feel her blood pumping and it makes his head throb, but they don’t have time for him to think about it, so he shoves it to the back of his mind and carries on. 

They meet up with Bob. Percy can almost hear the ichor in his veins and he can sense every movement Bob is about to make, can feel his muscles tense and stretch. 

They make it to the Doors and Percy can hardly think over the sound of all the blood pumping within the horde of monsters before them. It echoes in his head, gallons of blood and ichor roaring in his ears. He stumbles and Annabeth catches him. He can’t hear her worried questions over the pounding in his head. 

He gets it under control. 

They make it to the Doors and cut one chain. They fight. Tartarus himself appears. 

Percy drops his sword. He claps his hands over his ears and screams. He can feel it now, the body of Tartarus coming to life beneath their feet; the rivers of the Underworld flow through his veins, monsters writhe around in pustules on his skin. They stand atop the thunderous beating of his massive heart. 

Percy can feel it all and he can feel his mind begin to fray at the immensity of it, at the truth of the Pit. Mortal minds were not meant to bear this reality. 

Annabeth is kneeling in front of him (he doesn’t remember hitting the ground) and her hands are covering his over his ears and she’s trying to talk to him but all he can hear is the rushing of the rivers beneath Tartarus’ skin. Bob is fighting off monsters and his brothers as the manifestation of Tartarus watches from the sidelines. Damasen is there (when did he get here? Percy’s mind is fracturing, he can’t think straight, he can’t keep track of what’s going on) and Percy blinks and Damasen has thrown himself at Tartarus and Annabeth is trying to haul him into the Doors. 

Percy tries to speak but he can’t seem to make his voice work. They need to stay, to help their friends. They can’t leave Bob and Damasen behind. 

Annabeth is crying. 

Percy reaches up to wipe the tears from her cheeks and tries to focus only on her, tries to block out the body of Tartarus and the horde of monsters. 

Suddenly, Bob is there, scooping them up and depositing them in the elevator. “The button must be held for twelve minutes or else the Doors will open and you will die, trapped within whatever lies between here and the surface.” 

Annabeth tries to protest. Percy can barely make out what Bob is saying. 

“I will hold the button,” Bob says. “Thank you, friends, for giving us hope.” He glances over his shoulder at where Damasen and his drakon are holding off the tide of monsters and trying to keep Tartarus at bay. “We will do this for you, and we are honored to. You must hold the Doors closed on your side. They do not like the living and will try to spit you out.” 

Bob presses the button and the Doors begin to slide closed. “Please tell the sun and stars I say hello,” he says with a soft smile, and the Doors shut. 

It’s a long, long ride back to the surface. Annabeth and Percy throw their shoulders into the Doors, fighting to keep them closed. Annabeth sobs, but Percy still isn’t quite all there. 

The longer they’re in the elevator and the farther they get from the Pit, the more Percy begins to come back to himself. Annabeth watches the awareness slowly return to his eyes and his face crumple with despair as he regains his mind and can finally make sense of what just happened. 

They mourn, but they keep the Doors closed. 

Above, the whole thing with Pasiphae and Clytius is happening. The Doors ding. Leo throws a screwdriver to hit the button. 

The Doors slide open. 

Percy and Annabeth tumble out, still clinging to each other even as they collapse. 

They look dead. 

Clytius uses them to speak and everyone is pissed off, then Hazel and Hecate kill him <3 

Percy and Annabeth are alive, but only just. And they’re out. Nico and Hazel kneel on either side of them. Nico reaches out to clutch at the tattered remains of Percy’s shirt and Hazel grabs hold of Annabeth’s wrist. 

The others gather around and hold hands. Nico and Hazel shadow travel them all out of there. 

In the light, it’s worse. 

Reyna and Coach Hedge meet them on the hilltop and freeze. Hedge starts cursing up a storm and Reyna chokes back bile. Leo turns around and throws up. Frank gags. Hazel sobs and Nico feels like he can’t breathe. Piper turns and buries her head in Jason’s chest. He wraps his arms around her tightly but can’t bring himself to look away from Percy and Annabeth. 

They’re horrifyingly thin, emaciated. The tattered remnants of their clothes hang off their skeletal frames. Their skin was pale and sallow, their cheeks sunken. Their chests rattled with each shallow, labored breath. They were covered in cuts and bruises, weeping lacerations and half-healed scabs littering their skin beneath layers of dirt and grime and other nasty substances. 

The others wondered just how long Percy and Annabeth had been down there. 

Jason gently lifts Percy into his arms and flies him to the ship, Frank right behind him as a dragon with Annabeth carefully cradled in his claws. 

Reyna, Hedge, and Nico leave with the Athena Parthenos. 

Percy and Annabeth are settled in two beds in the small infirmary on the Argo II to rest. No one knows when (if) they’ll wake up. Someone is always with them, though. Be it Hazel gently wiping the grime from their skin or Piper carefully cleaning their wounds, Jason dribbling nectar between their cracked lips or Frank doing some physical therapy exercises to try and keep their muscles from atrophying any further. 

The boat was quiet and tense, everyone waiting with bated breath for Percy and Annabeth to wake up. 

And eventually, they did. 

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dannyphantom-rewrite · 3 years

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Timekeeper's assistants AU

Alright y'all! This is gonna be my info dump post for the Timekeepers assistant Au- buckle up cause it's gonna be a long one!

Inspired by @queendibz post here

The entire purpose of the assistant squad is to keep all the time lines running smoothly- this can range from stopping a world ending event to making sure things misplaced by natural ghost portals get put back into the right time and place.

So First up on the crew list,

Dan:

-Dan definitely isn't a homicidal maniac anymore but he's not 100 percent "redeemed" either.

-I mean he's probably still a bit of sadist but he tries not to be?

-The best description I can give is that he's in recovery, basically.

-So, Clockwork knew that Dan would eventually bust out of the thermos just because it wasn't built to hold a ghost of his power level for a prolonged period of time. But beyond that?? He has no idea about anything in regards to Dan. Since Dan's creation was averted, his timeline doesn't exist anymore. He's a paradox that exists outside of time, and unfortunately, that means he's the one entity in the multiverse that exists in Clockwork's blindspot. There's no way for him to know what Dan's going to do next.

-Anyway, Dan eventually breaks out of the thermos fully intending to Fuck Shit Up, And Clockwork makes a point of informing him that if he leaves the clock tower he will cease to exist. (Like Dan, the tower exists outside of time, so he's safe there.)

-Dan is the first member of the assistant squad. Granted, it took a while for him to come around to the idea of helping Clockwork but he got there eventually.

-Dan is an entity that was born out of the rage and grief of two very broken people and he has so much shit he's working through as a result

-One of the first things he had to do was recognize and accept that he's an entity that's completely separate from Vlad and Danny. He might have all their memories and the weight of their mistakes on his shoulders, and on top of that, the atrocities he himself committed because of them. The first step is realizing that he doesn't have to be defined by the people that made him.

-It's a really fucking difficult thing to do tho and he's got a lot of weird emotions in regards to Vlad, Danny and the Fentons as a result. A near constant identity crisis, self loathing, daddy issues, something that could arguably be called an Oedipus complex, (FUCKING THANKS, VLAD)

-Cannot stand the smell of fast food, it makes him nauseous and the sight of Nasty Burger sauce alone is enough to make him vomit Ectoplasm.

-He's just a hot mess all around y'all

-He tries to keep his interactions with the Danny's as minimal as possible at first bc of this. The first time he meets them in person he shape shifts into Danny like he did in TUE and just pretends to be one of them. Some of them have had interactions with their respective Dan's already and would be super wary of him and probably pretty freaked out otherwise.

-Dan is eventually allowed to leave the clocktower for supervised "Field missions" with the aid of a time medallion to keep him from poofing out of existence, but it takes a while for clockwork to build up that level of trust.

-Dan's shapeshifting ability Actually comes into play a bit on a lot of those missions, since he can Mimic Danny it also makes sense that he'd be able to impersonate Vlad in the same way. Granted he's not incredibly comfortable taking on either of their appearances but it does help him hone his shapeshifting ability to the point where he's able to pick and choose features from both Vlad and Danny and sorta make his own human disguise.

-Most of the time he acts as the eye in the sky from the tower, monitoring for timeline anomalies and then notifying the appropriate member of the assistant squad.

-He has a room under the clock tower that he operates from. I kinda like the idea of there being like, catacombs down there? Anyway he's got all kinds of monitors and view screens and he very rarely leaves. It also doubles as his "living space." He doesn't need to sleep but he's got a big mess of a pillow fort that he crashes in regardless bc sometimes you just NEED to be unconscious for a while. The catacombs are also absolutely full of those little blob ghosts that wander around the zone bc They're attracted to the ecto energy the tower gives off. He's really annoyed by them at first but they grow on him after a while and now he just dotes on them.

-There's a specific throw pillow sized one that likes to hang out in Dan's room a lot and he ended up getting a little over attached to the stupid thing. His name is Dorian. Bc he's a gift.

-SIR THATS MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BLOB

-Dan's appearance has changed slightly. He wears his hair loose now and it's kinda just this big fiery mane when it's not contained. His cape is more of a cloak now, it has a hood and he wears it sorta pinned together at the shoulder so the DP logo is covered.

-Dan's relationship with the rest of the Danny's is kinda weird, and a little strained. He has a hard time being around them for very long because, well, he used to sort of be them? Except not really? He does care about them tho, and the last thing he'd want is for one of them to end up like him.

-His relationship with clockwork definitely starts out pretty familial, after he becomes his assistant, anyway. There's room for that to develop into meddling minutes but I'm not entirely sure if I'm gonna go that route yet.

-The Danny's only ever hear his voice for a while before he finally let's them meet him for real, so they end up calling him Charlie for a while as a joke. Cause Ya know. Charlie's angels. Even after Charlie still ends up being his designated name on missions.

Mer! Danny:

-Was recruited bc a lot of the shit that gets sucked through natural portals ends up in a body of water somewhere and when that happens he's on call to retrieve it.

-Is Actually not at all ghostly! Mer Danny's situation is basically the plot of H2O (just add water), or if you haven't seen that, Aquamarine. And by that I mean he's only a merfolk in water.

-He's an electric eel

-His Jack and Maddie are marine biologists, with a particular interest in marine cryptids

-We're taking sea monsters baby!!!

-Not entirely sure how this Danny ended up half mer yet but I'll figure it out, lmao.

-14 years old

-His nickname/ designation is "Moray"

Crown Prince! Danny:

-Nickname/designation is Prince / Princey

-16 years old

-Not allowed to go anywhere in the zone without the Fright knight bc of some ancient ghost law bullshit, so he has a constant babysitter.

-He's next in line bc he sealed away Pariah, but can't take the throne until he is both, A) at least 18 years and B) Completely deceased

-Vlad is his Regent bc he did have a part in the whole sealing the previous king thing, but he's also not completely dead so his power is super limited there.

-As Prince Danny has the crown of fire in his ghost form, although now the name is kinda ironic seeing as it's completely frozen over. It's blue now and it smokes like dry ice.

-As Regent, Vlad has the ring of rage for "safe keeping"

-Vlad and Danny are pretty much constantly at each other's throats, fright knights probably had to shut down more than a few of Vlad's attempts to usurp the crown from Danny through combat.

-Princey deals with the timeline issues that involve the ghost zones' internal / political affairs, and he's gotten very well versed with dealing with the Observants.

Winged! Danny :

-15 years old

-Mallard duck wings

-His Vlad is a swan

-Comes from a family of waterfowl, Jack is a goose, and Maddie is a white swan. Both he and jazz are ducks bc of their grandparents.

-As Fenton his wings are white, like jazz, and as phantom they turn black with a green iridescent sheen.

-He's trans

-Nickname/ designation is inviso Bill. Bc ducks have bills haha get it-

-Ghostly wail?? Nah son he's gotta killer QUACK

-Absolute besties with Mer!Danny/ Moray, sometimes they go swimming together after a mission.

Clone! Danny:

-Physically he's a 12-year-old, but he's only been alive for a few months.

-Alt universe where Vlad manages to stabilize the perfect clone with his own DNA.

-Dani still exists, and the original danny from his time line also rescued the other problematic clones.

-Doesnt like the fact that he's a clone, and very much wants them all DEAD. Bc them running around is a reminder that he's not the real danny.

-Human half looks the same aside from the widows peak and the mallen streak. His ghost half takes after plasmius. Blue skin, and the Hazmat kept it's original white colors.

-Probably has fangs and a forked tounge.

-Not so much a member of the squad as he is someone that they need to be keeping an eye on.

-Does NOT get along with them.

-Dan enjoys making him uncomfortable.

-Designation is Masters / the brat (not to his face tho)

Family Breakfast AU! Danny:

-A BABY

-The boy is a fucking overpowered todler okay. He's an 8 year old.

-The biological son of his Vlad, was born a Halfa. Jack, Vlad and Maddie got their shit together and are in a healthy poly relationship.

-Got separated from Vlad one time in the zone and inadvertently adopted by the assistant squad and clockwork.

-His Vlad is aware of the squad and just. Dad's the crap out of the Danny's as a result. It makes for some..... interesting interactions.

-I can't think of a nickname so I'm just gonna be lazy and say he gets to be the one Tru Danny bc cute little kind privileges lmao.

Full ghost! Danny:

-15 years old, will always look 14.

-Nickname/designation is Toast

-Died in the portal accident and got fucking FRIED.

-He always smells like somethings burning.

-He's really bright and sorta sparks a bit, you can see his bones glowing through the hazmat.

-He still leave the zone to protect his version of amity, but lives with clockwork full time.

Canon Danny (NOT PHANTOM PLANET COMPLIANT) :

-Basically show Danny, except phantom planet never happened fuck you

-Joined the crew after the events of de stabilized

-Also he's trans fuck butch

-Franken! Danny

-Yall remember that Headless Danny Au? This is my take.

-Is Actually 20 years old, but physically stuck at age 14. Bc he's a walking corpse :)

-Came from a timeline that was directly parallel to Full ghost! Danny. He dies in the portal accident, but jack and Maddie are in the lab when it happens and manage to sort of bring him back using a combination of science and freaky ghost junk.

-So he's basically possessing/ stuck inside of his own dead body. Which, is thankfully not rotting or going into rigor mortis bc Ectoplasm is rather similar to formaldehyde, but he's not the most durable thing and bits and pieces fall off from time to time.

-Like his head. For example.

-He's pretty desensitized to it at this point and if he loses a leg after a ghost fight he doesn't see anything wrong with sitting down on the curb of a main street to stich it back on. His being dead isn't exactly a secret.

-Don't ever ask him to "give you a hand" bc he can and will not hesitate to pop one off and Chuck it at you.

-Said hand and any other body part will continue to function just fine even if it isn't attached to anything, btw.

-Nickname/ designation is Adam. Bc. Ya know. that's the name Frankenstein's monster gave itself.

Post Phantom Planet! Danny:

-A very jaded 22 year old who is driven only by spite and enough caffeine to kill a horse

-Very, very tired of the hero thing.

-Being a global celebrity isn't all it's cracked up to be.

-Decided to follow Vlads lead and fuck off to space for a while. Partially to get away from everyone and also partially bc he kinda feels responsible for the fact that the only other person like him and probably floating DEAD in the void somewhere? And yeah Vlad fucked up all on his own but what if he'd tried harder to get through to him things could have been different-

-Joins the crew after a natural portal opens up in space and decides to help out and use clockworks resources to try and track down his Vlad.

-Nickname/ Designation is Polaris, aka the north star.

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

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Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s son (Part 2)

Tony Stark x son!reader

warnings:

a/n: had to split it into 2 parts bc i hit the text limit dhshaggags

prompt: continued

part 1

~sokovia was ur first big mission~

“why is y/n here, stark?” -cap

“the first mistake was letting me become a father”

“good god, tony...”

you having the time of your life crushing robots

“WHEEEEEE”

also proving useful by saving avengers a handful of times

“thanks for the assist, stark clone” -clint

rip pietro

rhodey was actually the most worried about you if we’re being honest, he didn’t understand why they let you in this one???

“y/n? y/n, talk to me! are you alive?”

“yes, uncle rhodey! i’m perfect, stop worrying!”

“i love you, kid! be safe!”

✨a good family you’ve got✨

soon the avengers broke up bc your dad cant get along with steve and it was just really awkward

but you chose your dad’s side

“sorry, steve! he pays my allowance!”

peter was actually a little okay, you know!! spazzy at first, but he was cool

“dude, you’re y/n stark! you’re tony stark’s very own son! i’m talking to mr. stark’s only child!”

“yep, that’s me. i’m what earned tony the title of ‘DILF’”

teenage teamup? ofc

“am i doing alright?”

“looking a-okay, pete!”

tony was worried fighting steve would traumatize you so he made you wait at the hotel with happy and peter

“don’t do anything to embarrass me, y/n. i dont want to see you on the news for something stupid”

you and peter ended up hanging out in your room and watching tv and ordering room service

“how do you do that so smoothly? i’d just freak out and go get it myself”

“years of experience as a spoiled rich brat”

absolutely positively being up all night and trying to fight your exhaustion

“you two seem to be getting along well. couldn’t be me” -happy

“for someone named happy, you never seem to be happy”

“not around teenagers, no”

“i remember when you loved me, ‘uncle happy’”

peter texted you every day after that

whenever flash picked on peter for “never meeting tony stark” he’d show a picture of you and him taking selfies in the lab together yes you invite him over much to the dismay of everyone else around you

plus tony was out of town and you were finally trusted enough to be left alone unchecked so like, happy would just leave at the first sign of peter

“that’s not real!”

“jealous?”

you actually showed up for homecoming on a dare (but in disguise)

didn’t wanna attract all the attention, you just wanted a high school experience

but you got called into avengers tower to help move early on :/ bad timing too cuz peter had to fight his first villain and u missed it

“dude, how do you feel?”

“bruh sound effect number two”

“oh my god”

FRIDAY heard him and pulled up the sound and you were WEAK you couldn’t stop laughing

“please....i think i broke a few ribs. cant laugh until tomorrow”

tony offered peter the avengers gig and peter said no, you were very disappointed but u understood that not everyone wanted to be in the spotlight like that

but you and peter obviously still hung out

oh, tony proposed! they interviewed you on sight!

“y/n, how does it feel to know that you’re going to have a stepmom soon?”

“you guys are aware that pepper helped raise me, right? right?!”

moving on, life was smooth for a while, there was some wedding planning, talk of you being a best man (which rhodey fought you on)

“no, i’ve known your dad longer!”

“i’m his son!”

i n v a s i o n

oh boy that was rough

bruce was surprised that you had fucking grown so much in the past 3 years good lord

“y/n...your VOICE”

“puberty, i know. when’s it gonna happen to you?”

“it hurts more when it’s from a teenager”

“uh, did you forget my birthday?”

peter’s back! peter’s back!

finally, man

“spider-kid, i could use an assist!”

“on the way!”

“aliens, why did it have to be aliens?”

up up and away for tony and peter, leaving you on the ground with all the earthly chaos and fear

“you two are the absolute worst, you know that? DAD, PETER, GET BACK DOWN HERE”

“no can do, kid. i—” *cuts off*

“oh great, no service on the space donut, huh? find a damn wifi password and call me back you asshole”

pepper was probably having a heart attack bc the news stations were having a field day but you were one of the only active avengers left, meaning you had to help clean this up

“bruce, we gotta get going”

“what? where?”

“upstate”

patching up the avengers as best as you could to take care of the threat

but you guys always win, this should be a cake walk, right?

wrong.

this was bad, very bad

after a lengthy battle with thanos in wakanda, you had failed. thanos got the stones, he snapped. the world was in ruins. but you didn’t get to see that part

you dusted away

“tell dad i’m sorry and i love him”

tony finally came back to earth hoping to see you, but upon seeing pepper’s face, he knew you were gone

“he did everything he could, tony! he didn’t deserve it!”

she was extremely upset, she saw you like a son of her own

soon, her and tony restarted their life and had a daughter, dad always wondered what it’d be like to have a little girl. it was different, it really was

she was eager to meet you

morgan stole pictures of you to hang up in her room

“when i meet y/n, im gonna give him a big hug! then we’ll have a tea party!”

tony has a picture of you and peter in the kitchen, he misses the two of you, but found comfort in the fact that you may be with each other

an ounce of hope, he had to try something

save his only son, and his other son

when he got to 2012, he was disappointed that he hadn’t let you become an avenger yet because he couldn’t see you here

yada yada he fucked up now he’s in the 70s and he fixed the fuck up and now hes in 2023

and bruce snapped

and you were all brought back and the way you kicked ass was inspiring

tony had to see his son now. right now.

“y/n, dear god! you’re okay! oh, man. i love you so much, kid. i missed you”

“i love you too. and i can’t believe you went to space without me, meanie”

“get over it”

ah, back to old times

peter and you obviously had to team up for this one! come on, what a story to tell!

and then, a snap and the warriors began to fade. you turned around and saw him on his knees

“no...”

you rushed over to where peter already was and tried to hold back tears, to be strong for him

“hey, dad. i’m here. no more missed goodbyes, okay? i’m here.”

you sat beside him and held his hand while the rest of your family made their peace with him and he finally slipped away

“y/n...are you okay?” -peter

“not even a little”

peter was worried about you, but you were worried about peter

mutual worry

meeting morgan was...surprising

pepper forgot to tell you they had a daughter while you were gone

she was so sweet and for the first month you lived at the cabin, she slept in your room

you got NO space

“i love you y/n”

“love you too” *thinking about dad bc she just reminds you of him so much*

“i love you y/n”

“love you too, morgan”

over and over

peter and you had sleepovers a lot, usually at his house bc you were the only one besides ned allowed over bc of all the spider-stuff

ned fanboyed over you

also sleepovers at peter’s were a nice break from being at tony’s cabin where you were constantly reminded that he wasn’t there

“y/n, i’m going to europe for a field trip! it’s gonna be awesome!”

“dude, you’re gonna love it. are you bringing your suit?”

“no, this is my offical vacation. no spider-manning”

“good for you, man!”

peter sent you all the pictures he took on his phone

all of them

Peter-Man: And this one is me and Ned in our crappy hotel room. And here’s the river. And here’s MJ covered in birds, and here’s the airplane, Mr. Harrington fell asleep on me

you had to come to europe once you heard what was going on

happy and you picked up peter and he was a mess

“you gave away dad’s glasses?”

“i think we’re past the point that i am not smart”

“jesus, peter. you should have called me about them. i would have taken them off your hands if you weren’t ready for them”

having to make sure that you guys didn’t get hurt bc this was honestly your guy’s first solo pair-up

there wasnt much backup here

finally, you defeated the evil (who apparently held a very large grudge against you. sorry mister beck) and were able to go back home

“call me if you need anything, pete”

“i will. i promise.”

and the next thing you know...peter’s identity was exposed

“i left him alone for one day!”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedgiant // @emygirl // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisbisexual // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @purpleskiesstorm //

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cultofbeatles · 4 years

Text

parts of pattie boyd’s book wonderful tonight that involved george that stuck out to me:

pattie didn't have any of the beatles records at first and only bought please please me since she was going to be in their film

“on first impressions, john seemed more cynical and brash than the others, ringo the most endearing, paul was cute, and george, with velvet brown eyes and dark chestnut hair, was the best looking man i’d ever seen.”

during a lunch break pattie and george sat next to each other and were both very shy

george asked pattie “will you marry me?” and after she laughed he said, “well, if you won't marry me, will you have dinner with me tonight?” and she turned him down.

she deadass invited george to hang out with her and her boyfriend at the time.

pattie and george are both pisces.

once reshoots for the film were happening george asked pattie about her boyfriend, she said she had dumped him, and george once again asked her for dinner. she accepted this time.

brian epstein joined them for their first date.

they sat side by side and were too scared to even hold the others hand.

george got along great with pattie’s family.

pattie liked cynthia lennon but found her difficult to make friends with.

“she wasn't like my friends, who enjoyed a giggle and some fun: she was rather serious, and often, i thought, behaved more like john’s mother than wife.”

there was a rumor that john and pattie were having an affair and pattie worried cynthia believed it. it wasn't true.

maureen cox (ringo’s girlfriend) was another beatles girl that pattie had a hard time being friends with. but said that she was “jolly and friendly, more relaxed than cynthia.”

pattie got along best with jane asher but saw her the least.

“i felt there was definitely a north-south divide among the wives and girlfriends. and i had the definite impressions that the girls from the north (maureen and cynthia) felt they has a prior clam to the boys.” okay shade, we see you.

(talking about going on holiday with john, cynthia, and george) “it was a good way to split the group. john and paul were the closest in some ways and immensely creative together, but they clashed if they were in each other’s pockets for too long.”

george asked pattie to cut his hair while on holiday and one of the cleaners found his hair and kept it.

(talking about george) “he was so beautiful and so funny.”

once a “weird looking man” tried to force his way into pattie and george’s house. pattie thought he was either a salesman or a jehovahs witness. it turns out it was paul in disguise.

george said the only place he got peace was in the bathroom of his hotel suite.

pattie got a lot of letters saying that if she didn't leave george there would be a curse put on her.

pattie’s cleaner was a male ballet dancer and “a terrific duster.”

pattie would count the days till george came back. once he jumped into the bed early in the morning to wake her up.

those two would deadass not lock their doors and were surprised that clothes were going missing...what is with older generations and not locking their doors i -

george would be in the studio from 11 am - 11 pm. sometimes midnight.

george’s mom loved when john would visit and would always ask him for an “upper.”

when john lennon is your drug dealer.

pattie wasn't a good cook but was optimistic.

“i loved listening to him (play guitar), loved the sound of the guitar in the house. sometimes i would start to talk and he'd be so deep in thought about the lyrics or the melody he was writing that he wouldn't answer. we’d be the same room but he wasn't really with me: he was in his head.”

pattie developed a kidney disorder.

(talking about the beatles dynamic) “in many aspects they were still children. they had few real friends apart from each other, and when they were asked questions they could answer as one - they were so much on each other’s wavelength. if one went to a gallery opening, they all went; if one bought a new car or new house, they all did. if one seemed in danger of taking himself too seriously, the others knocked it out of him.”

one evening george stopped the car and said, “let’s get married. i'll speak to brian.” they went to brian’s house, george went inside, and when he came back in the car he said, “brian says it’s okay. will you marry me? we can get married in january.”

briannnnnnn, is it my turn to get married yet pleaseeeee

pattie invited her absent father to their wedding but he did not come.

at the train station everyone left cynthia behind as she was carrying the suitcases and john was carrying nothing. peter brown had to go back and get her.

pattie’s quote from the lsd in the coffee moment is hilarious to me. “you've just had lsd. it was in the coffee.” john lennon: “how dare you fucking do this to us?”

pattie and george didn't go to brian’s funeral in liverpool but george sent one single sunflower.

pattie stopped modeling because george didnt like it. and she felt like she lost a part of herself.

maureen was afraid of flies.

during the India trip, mia farrow told john that maharishi was inappropriate with her and john wanted everyone leave after that.

after India george and pattie’s relationship changed.

(talking about george) “some days he would be all right, but on others he seemed withdrawn and depressed. this was new: he had never been depressed before, but there was nothing i could do. it wasn't about me, but i found that my moods started to mirror his...so bad indeed, that at times i felt almost suicidal. i don't think i was ever in any real danger of killing myself, but i got as far as working out how i would do it: i would put on a diaphanous ossie clark dress and jump off beachy head.”

george became more obvious about his cheating. it hurt pattie.

george was gaslighting her.

cilla black was staying at george and pattie’s house and was uncomfortably close to george so pattie left. six days latter george called to tell her the girl was gone and she could come home.

“..but my ego was too fragile and i couldn't see it as anything other than betrayal. i felt unloved and miserable.”

“jane asher came home unexpectedly from new york and found another woman in the house, an american girl - and did what i should probably have done with george...”

george would start to talk about his feelings about paul or john but would stop bc he never wanted to admit that he felt left out.

“we had once been so close, so honest and open with each other. now a distance had developed between us..”

(about yoko contributing to the beatles break up) “the four had never allowed anyone into the recording studios with them, but yoko not only sat by john throughout every session, he consulted her about the music they were making, which upset paul.”

during the let it be sessions there was a time with george and paul got in a fist fight and george left.

the same day john told George he was leaving the beatles, george’s mom told him she was ill and in critical condition.

i love that she vibe checked george. “he was bringing home bad vibes.”

george continued cheating and they continued arguing.

“my diary is full of entries about my unhappiness and the disintegration of our relationship.”

john came to visit george and pattie’s new mansion and said that it was so dark he didn't know how they could live in it, and george recommended that he took of his sunglasses.

eric clapton being a piece of shit and saying “if you won't be with me pattie i will become addicted to heroin.”

pattie said the only thing she had left was cooking and george took that away.

the couple was suppose to go on holiday together but george cancelled last minute bc he didn't want to go with her. he ended up going to spain.

“when i challenged him, he denied it and tried once again to make me feel as though i was paranoid.”

i'm not even...the whole fucking story of the george and maureen affair PISSES ME OFF more than i can describe. maybe i’ll make a whole other post but omfg i'm fuming. fuck them bothhhh. they deserve no rights.

george harrison, mere days before their wedding anniversary: “let’s get a divorce this year.” what an amazing new years resolution jerk.

ringo offered pattie a job.

when george told ringo about the affair pattie was so mad she dyed her hair red.

george loved pattie’s little brother and was his role model but he wouldn't come to the man’s wedding even though he was invited.

the night pattie told george she was leaving him george came to bed in sadness and said, “don't go.”

“i'm going.”

george invited pattie to dhani’s eighteenth birthday party bc she “had to be there. she was family.”

george had become more of an older brother to her now.

pattie had learned about john’s death from eric clapton and immediately went to the beatles office in london to hang out with everyone there.

(after finding out about george’s death) “i couldn't bare the thought of a world without george. when i left him for eric, he had said that if things didn't work out, ever, i could always come to him and he would look after me. it was such a selfless, loving, generous thing to say and it had always been tucked away at the back of my mind. now that sense of security had gone.”

the last time they saw each other was when george called saying he wanted to visit her new cottage and see her.

pattie didn't go to his funeral nor did she go to the memorial concert that took place a year later. but she spent that day high on the mountains thinking of george. “i was happy to mourn him alone and in my own way.”

she would have dreams of george after his death. “oh george, it’s so wonderful that you are alive after all, this is so fabulous; i knew they had all made a mistake.”

and then she’d wake up.

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berrybudhug · 3 years

Note

What's your oc's story with A pastor and Angel Dust ?

marriage

I have a few story ideas with them all (I'm assuming you meant Alastor jdhfkd)depending on certain circumstances, but the main consistent one is: My OC is a human who fell into Hell through some freak accident with an elevator(making her never finish her dash door delivery). The thing is though, she's still alive and very human. She throws together a disguise to try and blend in with all the demons and finds shelter at the hotel where she meets the main cast. Some aren't fooled by her disguise (like probably Alastor), and some don't really care or point it out (like probably Angel). It lands her in different kinds of shenanigans as she tries to figure out how to get back out of Hell alive and just trying to survive and keep a low profile.

More detail below cut bc I think about it a lot:

With Angel I like to ship him with my oc bc i luv he and I want to, and I also personally like the headcanon that he could be bi-romantic. But it's just for fun. One story idea is that he's the reason my oc is trapped in hell because he set up this soul trap in the elevator. For Reasons the trap didn't just take her soul, it took the whole human to hell. They both don't know this until later when Angel finally learns HOW she got there. but this also binds her soul to hell and he's the only one who can help get her back home (IF he wants her to leave. Which he might not bc angst and romance plot and their growing emotional dependence on each other). But it also helps give the opportunity for adventure and plot and avoid "easy fixes" like someone just throwing her back to the living world in two steps(bc thats not fun, thats not plot development). I also have imagined other plots and stuff with them having a more platonic relationship, so anything goes really!

With Alastor I also have a few stories with my oc and him. Like since he'd catch on immediately that she's human he'd have fun messing with that and creating his own entertainment. Or at least for as long as it is entertaining. So it can go in different way. One idea is he grows somewhat protective of their local hotel human; in that "no one but me can mess with it" kinda way.

One way this played out in a story was Alastor made a deal with my OC to help her with these "nightmares" she was having, which was actually her soul becoming corrupted from it's continued exposure to, ya know, being in hell and it's killing her slowly. Cause humans aint supposed to be there. and he gave her these "sleeping pills" that he claimed should help her sleep and keep nightmares away. In reality they were speeding up the process, which would allow Alastor to take her soul(cause for all anyone knew, even if she died in hell her soul could potentially still go to heaven). This was also an idea before the pilot and helluva boss series came out, so me and some friends only had our own headcanons at the time and wondered if hell saw souls as valuable, and that maybe the more you had the stronger you were. Who knows if thats true, but it's an idea we had fun with. More things happened with this idea, but that's more related to my OCs personal story.

I also have one story me and my friend @lunascapearts talk about where my OC accidentally summons Alastor and he can't leave until she makes a deal with him, binding them in an unfinished contract and leaving him stuck in the living world with her. She's the only one who can see him (that she knows of) and he takes constant advantage of annoying her and creating his own "fun." Like breaking her TV, messing with people and leaving her to clean up his mess, and using magic to cause random dance numbers. They grow closer the longer she refuses to make a deal and sign her soul away. Angst will ensue.

#asks #oc #oc ramblings #???#idk headcanons and story stuff i think about and kinda draw #a lot of ideas happened in rps #nothings a concrete 'main' story its all fun and possible and i could go on and on about it

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impulstor · 3 years

Text

explanations behind my song choice for my 3lsmp playlist under the read more! keep in mind, some of these songs don't really have a reason beyond just... vibes. and that some ideas have changed over time. anyway!

playlist here

anti-hero — originally added as an etho song, and still applies. with him being prepared to fight & kill for ren + the rest of the red army. also, he tends to be a bit unpredictable and has a very different moral standing from someone like, say, martyn.

kill the sun — fits with the series as a whole, with shifting alliances and friendships, and with people killing and being killed by one another.

special — this ones for all the mfs who didn't pick a side until really late, or were bouncing between factions for a while 💪. especially for tango, as an example, making friends with someone who he can also consider his enemy, and being completely unsure where he stands in any group, though he wants to have their faith.

villain — this song is just really good for making a mental amv for lmao. it's good for demonstrating differing alliances n sides, n of course that applies here.

oh, death — not a lot of specific thoughts for this, just. yknow, death, vibes, dying for someone, watching your friend die, etc.

6up 5oh cop-out — first of all, I'm just a slut for will wood sometimes. second, a lot of the lyrics on their own could 100% be applied to events in the series (I mean I did use some from it for my etho n tango drawing for funsies) so. it's a strange song but the vibes fit well, in my opinion :]

kill of the night — a bit self explanatory, I think. in a series about trying to outlive, and to eventually kill your friends? no doubt you're going to end up hunting certain people down, hmmm? revenge, n all that. works well for multiple characters, really.

you're gonna go far, kid — impulse. just like. tango, or maybe etho, at impulse. "with a thousand lies and a good disguise, hit em right between the eyes" I meaaan 🤔 how is it NOT impulse lmao

kill the lights — once again, killing, death, murder, yknow. good vibes. also people lying and betraying one another, and watching as their friends and enemies die in front of them, people being changed by the events that transpire.. also technically they ARE actors sooo. kill the actor, yknow

mad IQs — mostly this song just slaps (thank you eexer 🙏) but also the lyrics fit well with the events! death, murder, killing your friends, burning. there is a lot of fire.

go get your gun — works very well for the whole war goin on. one side vs another, fighting and losing allies, fighting to win for their fallen allies, cheating fate if they DO win. also the line "when this is over, we'll raise a glass straight up to the sun" could be seen as like. everyone coming together to be friends once it's all over bc they are!

c'est la vie — it fits well. bad things happen, you lose people, you hurt, karma kicks your ass, but that's just life, and that's the game. c'est la vie.

i'm gonna win — fits for how they're all fighting to be the last one standing. and also with having to work through literally dying and to not give up, if you want to win.

mr capgras... — once again, I just like will wood. also fits well with people fighting each other, mostly with the chorus. "you'll never take me alive" / "you better pray that I die" likjkeeeee 👀 you could make art fitting those lyrics tbh

curses — red & green duos (at least. when they were intact :/) sticking together, taking care of one another when everything is going to hell, people are dying, and it's getting intense. they trust each other, at least.

under the pressure — don't really have something specific, it just fits well, with the lyrics. honestly this one fits well as a skizz song, now that I'm thinking about it. he went from trying to be friends with a lotta people to taking two out for good and went out in a blaze of glory. yea. that's what I got lol

everybody wants to rule the world — I dont think I really need an explanation for this one. it just fits well with everyone trying to win the whole game, and with everything slowly ramping up in intensity

rebels — for scar and grian being crime bros for the first while :] everything IS burning, good for them!

outrunning karma — impulse once again. playing everyone, playing to everyones good sides as much as he could, until the act didnt matter anymore. but karma might really kick him in the ass, if he ends up as one of the last survivors, and others turn on him for betraying everyone earlier on.

you're nobody til somebody wants you dead — shrug emoji. just fits well mostly. friends fighting eachother, betrayal, yadda yadda.

thanks i hate it — mmm,, tango? idk, im just a tango enjoyer, and he has spent quite a bit of effort trying to please certain groups to like. no avail. especially team crastle. like tbh he was solidly on board with em for a while, and mightve gone back to them on his own. but cleo blackmailed him anyway. rip tango.

the riddle — ALL OF IT. the whole series. it fits

crazy = genius — i dont rly like brendan urie like at all. so i might remove it from the playlist at some point. but it does fit with scar and grian being villains.

icarus — mmm fits well with grian. with the wing imagery, and with the fact that he made SO many enemies by working with scar. and he never reaallllyyyyy apologized, did he? he's walking a dangerous line, with few allies,

cradles — idk lmao. vibes only.

wolf in sheeps clothing — impulse again mostly lol. sung by skizz or etho probably. betrayal <3

how villains are made — again, for those neutral parties that had to choose a side. its about being torn between two sides & having to choose. honestly, I could see it fitting bigb, if he does some funky villain stuff next session. he deserves it I think <3

killing butterflies — trauma, ouchie, angst, murder your friends. everything hurts.

king — ren!! that's it.

little lion man — bruh if ren dies and leaves martyn alone.... ghost ren to martyn.... ouch.

gives you hell — red army @ sand people. specifically etho and ren get to be petty at scar i think

wine red — [gestures vaguely] all of it

i bet my life — red and green duos again. though it could be after some of them permadie.

miss missing you — (thanks again eexer this one also slaps <3) ouch impulse and tango angst. or impulse and etho angst. OR etho and tango angst. THEM. :(

youth — all of it but like. after it's over. just like going back and looking at how it all went down.

a gorey demise — i just think it would be fun to animate everyone's different deaths to this song tbh

another one bites the dust — they are once again Dying. but it's not angsty and dramatic this time.

god rest ye merry gentlemen — 😔 the whole thing again. pain

#GOD this is so long omg #i spent an hour on this lol #.txt #3rdlifesmp #3lsmp #sorry if these dont make sense im not good at words

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feenyxblue · 4 years

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Hi! I'm real ignorant so if this is a dumb question feel free to ignore this. But I just found out that the Catholic Bible has 7 more books than the Protestant one? (I was raised Methodist so this was a big shock to me) And I was just wondering what those 7 books are? Where they are and what they're about and stuff. Thanks!

Well, yeah. There are seven more books, and the reasons behind why this is is complicated from a theology/archeology perspective, but simple from a historical perspective (Martin Luther revived fourth century discourse). In addition, Daniel and Esther are longer in the Catholic Bible compared to the Protestant Bible. I'm gonna run through each book with a little bit of what it is.

Tobit: the first of the novellas. Our main man, Tobit, is a holy man who undergoes many trials at the beginning, culminating in him being blinded. After this, his son, Tobias, gets sent off to retrieve some money from Media that Tobit remembered. Hes accompanied by the archangel Raphel, in disguise as a man. Meanwhile in Media, a young woman, Sarah, has just had her seventh would be husband die on her. She has a demon thing going on, where the demon will kill anyone who tries to marry her. Tobit and Raphael, after some fishing shenanigans in which various fish parts are acquired, arrive on the scene. Raphel, literal wingman, tells Tobias "Dude, you could totally marry Sarah, who is totally awesome. I'm gonna set you up and everything!" And Tobias says "Dude, the demon thing already killed seven men. I would prefer not to" Raphel: "She will please your dad. You can use some of the fish guts to drive away the demon by burning them, since they're rank. Then pray to God. You got this." Fish guts are burned, prayer is offered to God, and the happy couple is finally wed. Meanwhile, Sarah's dad got the rest of the household to dig a grave for Tobias, so that's quickly filled in. Then Sarah, Tobias, and Raphel go home, the remaining fish guts are used to restore Tobit's sight, Raphel gives some advice and then reveals himself to be an angel, and leaves. Tobit is happy and dies in peace. Tobias dies of old age in the epilogue. This story is referenced in the Gospels, when the Sadduces approach Jesus and ask him about a woman who has been married seven times, and all her husbands died.

Judith: another one of the novellas, our main hero is Judith, a Jewish widow. At the beginning theres a long war campaign sum up, which basically amounts to Holofernes is the toughest dude around. He eventually wages war against Israel. The end result is the Israelites are surrounded. The Israelites are surrounded, and Judith says "1. God will deliver us, 2. Let me and my maid go through the city, and God will deliver Israel through me" Judith prays, heads out, and manages to get an audience with Holofernes (she is a very pretty lady). She talks with Holofernes, and in her monologue uses a lot of wriggly ambiguous language, so Holofernes thinks she is talking about Nebecennezzer when she is talking about God. Holofernes is pleased by this, so he invites Judith to dinner. Judith then beheads Holofernes, and takes his head and goes back home. Judith shows his head, comes up with a good battle plan, the enemies are destroyed, and the Israelites celebrate.

1 Macabees: an independent account of the attempted suppression of Judaism in the second century BC (175-134 BC). The main character is Judas, son of Mattias, head of the revolution. It is classified as a novella.

2 Macabees: Covers the same rebellion, from 180-161 BC. Much like the Gospels tell the same story different ways, 1 and 2 Macabees tell the same historical events from different perspectives. It is also classified as a novella.

Wisdom: written in 50 BC, it's a poetic exhortation to live a holy life. Its classified as a book of Wisdom/poetry. Some of the language in Wisdom is echoed in the New Testament. Wisdom 2:24 "but by the envy of the devil, death entered the world, and they who are allied with him experience it" mirrors Paul's "sin entered the world, and death through sin"

Ben Sira: another book of wisdom, Ben Sira is another exhortation to live a holy life. Most of the book is moral instruction, but the last bit is about the heroes of Israel, gratitude to God, and an invitation for the unschooled to find true wisdom.

Baruch: a book of prophecy, its addressed to King Jechoniah (in Babylon). It can be divided into four parts: 1. The Letter to Jerusalem, filling in on the history, and guilt/deliverance, 2. Praise of Wisdom, 3. Baruch's poem of consolation, 4. Letter of Jeremiah, which is "don't worship Babylonian gods". John Calvin thought that Baruch should be in the Protestant Bible instead of Esther

And, since I think it's important since the books differ:

Esther: first off, its classified as a novella. It's an entirely different read in the Catholic bible, beginning with Mordecai's dream and an assasination attempt on the king. Then the banquet and deposition of Vashti. From there it follows roughly the same plot, but also contains prayers of Mordecai and Esther, official documents, etc. God is mentioned a lot in the Catholic version compared to the Protestant version.

Daniel: Chapter 3 has an awesome prayer in it, spanning from verse 24 to verse 90. It is very long, and a good read if you have the time. Daniel 13 and 14 have two short stories in them to cap off the book. The first is of Susana, who had two elders attempt to assault her. In retaliation, the elders falsely accuse Susanna of trying to seduce them. Susanna asks God to intervene, and a boy Daniel reveals the lie. The two elders are then killed. The second one is Bel and the Dragon, wherein one Daniel calls out the king for worshipping Bel, a false idol. The king says "no, he clearly eats and drinks the sacrifices I lay out for him" Daniel says "you're wrong" and the king says "prove it, or you'll die." So the king offered his sacrifices, and Daniel had ashes spread across the room, before it was sealed. Turns out, the priests of Bel would sneak into the chamber through a secret entrance and eat everything, which was proved by the footprints left by the ashes. The priests revealed this, and then they were killed. Then there was a dragon the Babylonians worshipped, and Daniel killed with some pitch, fat, and hair cakes (after getting permission from the king). From here Daniel gets thrown into the lion's den, Habbakkuk brings him a meal, and Daniel is brought out alive. The people who tried to kill him are then thrown into the lion's den.

#tobit would be a good comedy #judith is far more into direct action then esther #sorry this is a lot

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kyber-crystal · 4 years

Text

Divided We Fall

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: ~2.7k

Summary: In which she feels torn between the man she’s grown to love, whose ideas she agrees with, and her mentor and brother figure - who took her in with open arms and always accepted her when nobody else could.

Warnings: mentions of violence, angst, soft steve as always. you know the drill

A/N: tony’s your sort-of older brother (he took you in to train you not long before howard and maria passed), and you’re around steve’s age? I think? idk. includes a short IW scene but the time skip isn’t as drastic. SUPER SHITTY BC THIS IS A REALLY OLD ONESHOT

Tags: @pies-writes-and-more <3

Steve stood alone in the isle after Peggy’s funeral, leaning against the pew as he stared blankly down at the ground with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

You silently approached him and without introduction, he began to speak. "When I came out of the ice, I thought everyone I had known was gone. Then I found out that she was alive. I was just lucky to have her."

"She had you back, too."

Steve looked up, meeting your gaze. "Who else signed?"

"Tony, Rhodey, Vision, Nat."

"Clint?"

"Says he's retired," you smiled slightly.

"Wanda?"

"TBD. I'm off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords. There's plenty of room on the jet."

Steve sighed and bowed his head.

"Just because it's the path of least resistance," you continued, "doesn't mean it's the wrong path. Staying together is more important than how we stay together."

"What are we giving up to do it?" He shook his head, unconvinced by your words. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I can't sign it."

"I know. I don't want to, either. But it's not like I have any other choice."

"The thing is, you do."

"You know why I am." You gave him a hard stare. "Tony...he's basically the only family I have left. I'm no longer a daughter, no longer a girl with dreams...no longer with hope. I'm a weapon. As much as I don't agree with him, betraying him is the last thing I wanna do. He’s my mentor. I can’t just turn against him like that...it wouldn’t feel right."

"Y/N..."

"You know what I've done," you took in a deep breath, "I don't want to hurt any more people. I don't want to be controlled by a government that might not deem everything big enough of a threat for us to go out and do something about it, but I can't risk any more than I already have. I don't have any other choice but to sign those Accords, Steve."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I didn't want you to be alone."

You stepped forward, carefully pulling him into an embrace and at first, he tensed up at your touch but eventually relaxed, letting his arms wrap around you to pull you closer. And he just held you there, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other one held to the back of your head. Your head was buried in his chest and the warmth of him felt so familiar and safe; oddly comforting, that your chest began to ache because you knew in a matter of time you'd be ripped apart again.

Steve felt guilty. Despite the fact that he was the majority of the reason why all of this was happening, you still found it in your heart to look past it all and forgive him, to accept him for who he was.

The broken woman standing before him was someone he'd grown to care about far more than he wanted himself to. Knowing that it wasn't long before you were taken away from him and forced to stand against him only made his grip around you tighten, as he was afraid to let you go out of his sight.

...

Seeing you across from him on the opposite side of the battlefield, standing firmly in between your Tony and T'Challa, broke his heart. If he was forced to fight Tony's team, he would. But he wasn't going to fight you, no matter what.

Everyone, while they were all busy fighting each other, could clearly tell something was going on between the two of you. But they didn't question it. They could clearly tell Steve loved you too much to even try and lay a finger on you and when someone else tried to, he quickly advanced on them.

You finally caved and turned last minute towards the end of the battle, unable to stand against the one man you cared about more than anyone else that wasn't family.

Everyone's actions followed with consequences. Though you'd switched sides abruptly, you'd been granted permission to stay with Tony at the compound under strict circumstances that you never stepped out of line again, or you'd be sent to the Raft prison along with the rest of Team Cap as well.

"Cap loves you, you know," Rhodey noticed your solemn expression as you, him, and Tony sat around in the lounge, taking in the aftermath.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you pressed your fingers to your temples. "I made a mistake."

"We all make mistakes. People do bad things when they're trying to survive."

"Tony, I'm sorry," you turned over to the billionaire, "but I just...I couldn't stand against him. Not when we've stuck together for so long." The words that came out of Tony's mouth surprised you.

"I know. He couldn't do that, either."

"We've all done things that we'd like to take back," you murmured, staring down at your hands now in your lap, "Pain makes people change. I'd like to believe I didn't just do this, I didn't almost turn on you guys. You know I didn't want to sign. But I did, because you're like my family. I can't fight my own family." "He's made mistakes, yeah," Rhodey said, "but we've all messed up, you know. We’re only human.”

"My mistake was letting myself love someone I'd have to end up hurting eventually," you stated bitterly, a sharp edge to your voice.

"Cap made that same mistake, too," Tony spoke up. "We all screwed up. Some of us just have to find it in ourselves to forgive...but I don't know if I can do that yet."

"I know," you glanced over at him, "I miss them so much. Your parents...they changed my life for the better."

The billionaire took in a shaky breath. "I miss them too."

"You guys might wanna open this now," Rhodey handed you an envelope with your name on it, and Tony a package with a phone inside. "Tony Stank."

You snorted, and Tony cracked a small smile.

"Table for one, Tony Stank?" you joked.

"You're practically a Stank too, Y/L/N, you know that," he raised an eyebrow at you.

"Tony Stank just sounds funnier."

You quickly fell silent as you opened the letter.

Y/N, I'm glad you're back at the compound. I don't like the idea of you and Stark rattling around a mansion by yourself. We all need family. The Avengers are yours, maybe more so than mine. I've been on my own since I was 18. I never really fit in anywhere, even in the army. My faith's in people, I guess. Individuals. And I'm happy to say that, for the most part, they haven't let me down. Which is why I can't let them down either. Locks can be replaced, but maybe they shouldn't. I know I hurt you both. I guess I thought by not telling you about Howard and Maria that I was sparing you, but I can see now that I was really sparing myself, and I'm sorry. Hopefully one day you can understand. I wish we all agreed on the Accords, I really do. I know you're doing what you believe in, and that's all any of us can do. I know you didn't want to sign, but you were right in siding with your family. Even though you were on the opposite side of the battlefield, I couldn't fight you. I didn't want to hurt you. I still don't and I never will. No matter what happens. Just know that I ...

"Priority call from Secretary Ross," FRIDAY's voice drifted through the room, "There's been a breach at the Raft prison." "Yeah, put him through."

"Y/N, Tony, we have a problem, Cap and—" Ross called in.

"Ah, please hold," you interrupted.

"No, don't—"

You glanced back down at the letter in your hands, filled from top to bottom with Steve's elegant handwriting.

So, no matter what. I promise you, if you need us, if you need me, I'll be there. It's you, it always has been and it always will be, and I'm sorry for realizing that too late. I'm sorry for not being able to come back. I know I promised I'd always be by your side, and I will. Although I may not in the best situation to return right now, I promise you I'll see you soon. Take care, -S.R.

Several tears welled up in your eyes and slipped down your face as you closed the letter, staining the paper with dark spots.

"So, what'd he say," Tony took in your watery eyes and hard-set jaw. "Something wrong?"

"...He's on the run," your voice broke, "but they're all out. He broke them out.”

...

170 DAYS LATER

It was almost half a year of Team Cap jumping from motel to motel under different names and disguises every night, while still trying to defend the world as best as they possibly could. And when they were caught, Steve was sure that they'd be sent back.

"He'll come back soon, I'm sure of it," Rhodey reassured you as you watched the news of the search for Captain America was still underway. "When someone loves you the way he does, he's gonna find a way to return."

"He doesn't love me. I'm no better than a monster. And...I'm pretty sure he has heart eyes for Sharon."

"Well, he fucked up on that part," he agreed, clasping your shoulder, "but you know what? In the end, he still loves you. We all saw the way he looked at you back in Germany, he didn't want to hurt you. If he truly cared, he wouldn't hurt you even if you were on the opposing side, and that's what he did. I know he's gonna return: for your sake."

"I don't know why I'm letting myself do this."

"What? Loving him? That isn't anything new."

"New?"

"Sweetheart, I knew from the moment I first saw you look at him that you were. Look, love is worth fighting for, but sometimes you can't be the only one fighting. At times, people need to fight for you. You gotta be vulnerable and let him in your heart. Otherwise you'll keep feeling like you're in pain."

He did return.

You'd gone to trial and defended him under your name two weeks prior. Much to your current oblivion, your persuasion had worked and he was granted release and allowed to return, though he did so under the same strict circumstances given to you as well. He was warned to not pull off something like this a second time, and promise to ask for the government's aid whenever necessary.

So you're not expecting to buzz him and the others in late one Friday night.

"Y/N."

"Nat?"

"Can you buzz us in?"

"Uh...yeah, sure," you nodded, opening the gates to let them through. Within minutes, they were standing right in front of you, looking the exact same as they did five months ago, though the exhaustion was clear in all their faces.

"Greetings, Y/N." The android's arm was slung around Sam's shoulders, who was helping to hold him upright.

"Vision."

"It's good to see you guys, Rhodey greeted.

"t's great to see you too," Wanda smiled. She seemed to have aged a bit since you'd last seen her though she was only a teenager, but still looked much younger than everyone nonetheless.

"Well, you guys really look like crap. Must've been a rough couple of months."

"Yeah, well, the hotels weren't exactly five-star," Sam shrugged. "Where's Clint?"

"After the whole Accords situation, him and Scott took a deal. It was too tough on their families, they're on house arrest," Natasha explained.

She turned to you and gave you a tight hug, squeezing your hand as she pulled away. "Hey. How you holding up?"

"Could be better," you gave her a sad smile. "I'm fine."

"Y/N, hey."

Steve stepped out from behind Wanda and Sam and took a few tentative steps towards you, his feet feeling heavier by the second.

The one man you thought you wouldn't be seeing again for a while was now in front of you, and you weren't sure how to react. Your heartbeat was deafeningly loud in your ears, drowning out the sounds of everything else as everyone fell silent upon seeing you two interact.

"Hey," you responded a few moments later, stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets. You lifted your head slowly, an unrecognizable sort of emotion flickering in your eyes for a brief second before you averted his gaze and looked back down at the ground.

He still looked the same, with his dirty-blonde hair and tall, muscular build, those piercing blue eyes and comforting arms. The sight of him alone made your chest ache and your stomach twist itself into knots at the same time you felt butterflies flying around. You hated that you allowed yourself to care about him so much, that your body still reacted to the sight of him even after not seeing him for so long.

"Uh...we'll give you two a moment," Sam awkwardly cleared his throat, leaving the room with the others.

When you glanced back up again you could see just how much being away had affected his overall appearance: his bright blue eyes that glittered with authority and passion had lost their light, red-rimmed and bloodshot with dark circles underneath that indicated it had been days since he last slept.

"I'm sorry, I know it took a while, but I'm here now. I missed you."

"I missed you, too," you said quietly. You swallowed hard, feeling the familiar sting to your eyes as you struggled to keep your tears at bay.

He sighed and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close like you'd done to him before all those months ago, gently rubbing your back. Despite the heaviness in your stomach, it still fluttered at the feeling of your body pressed against his and you sunk into his warmth, his touch making the room feel warmer somehow. His arms that held you were soft and comforting, yet strong and firm at the same time, and the feeling of being so close to him was so dizzying to the point it made your head spin. But you didn't want to let go, so you held onto him as tight as you possibly could.

During the time of his absence, when the majority of your days were spent wandering around the compound alone, you taught yourself to ignore the pressing feeling in the back of your head, the way you felt as if there was some void in your heart that could only be filled by him and him alone. Day by day you attempted to convince yourself that no, you weren't falling in love with him, no, you weren't supposed to fall in love with him because it'd only destroy you in the end.

Yet you still did.

Always playing the part of promoting liberty and justice for all, Steve believed his sole purpose was to inspire and empower others to make the world a better place, blending into the mantra of 'a star-spangled man with a plan.' He always planned things out, always knew what he was doing.

So when he realized as he was holding you there in his arms, that he'd fallen in love with you, he didn't have a plan. And frankly, it terrified him.

He didn't have a plan, so he just decided to go with what his gut told him.

Steve brushed a stray hair that fell across your face and tucked it behind your ear. You looked up in surprise, heart hammering against your chest as his thumb brushed ever so gently against your cheek before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

That's all he needed to do in order to eradicate all the anger, all the pent-up frustration and other emotion inside of you, to make you forgive him for every little thing that he's done to break your heart because there was nothing he could possibly do to make you love him any less.

"I love you," you mumbled as you pulled away, resting your head against his broad chest.

"I know. I love you too."

187 notes · View notes

homebody-nobody · 4 years

Text

touch me someone

HIIIII it’s your favorite fic writer back from the dead with TWO whole fics real close together maybe I’ll finally become a consistent publisher?!? we can dream. Anyway. JJ and Kiara are my new Bellamy and Clarke I guess so enjoy this VERY angsty smutty hurt/comforty poetic nonsense the idea for which would not leave my brain til I wrote it. Please for the love of god read this bc I actually kind of love it and need validation or concrit or literally any feedback at all bc my none of my irl friends like this show so pls interact/comment

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ao3

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He pulls away from her, and his eyes are wide but dry as his chest heaves. He looks wild, uncaged and raw, the moonlight turning his blond hair white and his blue eyes into pools of silver. Tragedy and shock have destroyed him, the chains he’d wrapped around his brash, heedless, unending want twisted into shards by an explosion of hurt and grief. He has always been the victim, the boy left behind in empty rooms with nothing but loss and bloody fragments, told to piece himself back together. Finally, they’ve taken the last thing. When he told John B they had nothing to lose, they still had each other. And now, he doesn’t even have that.

But she’s still here.

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Touch me someone

I’m too young to feel so

numb, numb, numb, numb

You could be the one to

Make me feel somethin, somethin.

The Phantom went down around 8:30 PM. Or maybe 10:30. Kiara doesn’t remember. She only knows that the hours between then and now have felt like a lifetime and also no time at all. Like she’ll turn and John B will be there, behind her shoulder, laughing at something JJ said, Sarah hanging off his arm; but also like the world is dark and will be dark and has been dark forever. Like the sun will never rise after this. Like the storm took the light and heat from the world just like it took her best friend.

Later, she’ll learn that John B’s official time of death is listed as 8:34 PM, when they stopped trying to establish radio contact with him and Sarah. Later, she’ll watch news stories about the manhunt for Rafe Cameron and the scandal of Ward Cameron’s property being left to his second wife, rather than his remaining daughter. Later, she’ll get an email from an internet cafe in Bermuda and her whole world will flip upside down one more time.

But now, she is laying in her four-poster bed, watching the ceiling fan lazily trawl the same, tired circle, listening to the pull-chain tap not-quite-silently against the glass fixture. Now, her hair still damp from the shower that her mother made her take, eyes stinging from sharp wind and tears not yet shed, the inside of her mouth shredded and sore from the hours she spent chewing on her lips, the world is too quiet, too peaceful. The crickets outside sing soft and gentle, just like they have every night her whole life, and the texture of her comforter, the quiet harmony of the night, the soft click and whoosh of the fan -- it all feels so chokingly familiar, like spiralling back down to earth after spending weeks dipping in and out of orbit.

She wants to scream until her throat is raw, sob and fight and unleash herself on every single adult that hurt John B, that brushed him off or refused to help or wouldn’t listen to him. She wants to gut Ward Cameron for ripping everything away from John B, first his father, and then the gold that was his by right. The gold that was theirs. She wants to rip off Rafe’s skin piece by piece until he’s in shreds at her feet. She wants to eviscerate his father with the same gaff hook he used to rip apart those two mainlanders and ruin John B’s life. She’s so full of hurt and grief and anger that her fists keep clenching white-knuckled in her blankets and she wants to bring down the sky itself. But at the same time, she’s haunted by that same emptiness that followed her after Sarah’s childish betrayal, like she’s watching it all from the outside.

She can’t sleep. She won’t. Sleep is just an escape, a place to forget, and she’ll have to wake up and remember what happened all over again, remember the rush of hope and the hours of adrenaline and apprehension that ended in a tragedy none of them could have ever predicted. What child foretells death?

Rolling over, she presses her face into her pillow, smothering herself until her lungs force her to turn her head for air. She opens her eyes, no less heavier than they were hours ago. Her throat tightens like tears are about to well up, to spill over and stain her sheets, but they don’t come. Itchy and claustrophobic, she throws back the sheets and paces over the smooth boards of her room, bare feet making soft noises over the lacquered wood. She has to get out, to make sure that she didn’t dream up the whole goddamn thing.

She dresses quickly, throwing on denim cutoffs and an old drug rug that cycled its way through at least two of the boys’ wardrobes before landing in hers. She doesn’t know where she’s going, doesn’t know what she needs, but she throws her wallet, her charger, a flashlight, and her water bottle in her beat up backpack, and, on second thought, a toothbrush and some deodorant. She picks up her keds and tiptoes down the stairs, avoiding the creaky eighth stair.

The key rack is empty, and, chastising herself for believing her parents would leave the car keys out after everything she’d pulled in the last few days, she rocks on her heels, assessing her options. The most prudent one is probably just to go back to bed, given the usual risks of going out at night as a teenage girl, the massive punishment that looms in her future, and, now, the lack of a vehicle. But the thought of returning to her stale room, skin crawling and mind racing at a standstill, makes the decision for her. She slips out the back door, making sure to catch the screen door before it slams, and digs out her bike from next to the garage. The tires could use air and the gears are misaligned, but it still rides, and it’ll get her… somewhere else.

Her original intention is to go to Pope’s house, mostly because it’s closest, but then she thinks about how she kissed him earlier that afternoon -- and God, was that just this afternoon? There’d be implications, now. Showing up in the middle of the night, throwing pebbles at his window -- it would mean something. So she stands up on the pedals and pushes past his street, floating like jetsam through the night.

She ends up heading for the chateau, which is where she was going all along. After her family moved to the outskirts of figure eight just before high school, it was the only place that felt like home anymore. She cruises deep into the cut, where even the smell of the air changes, from freshly mowed grass and chlorinated in-ground pools to gasoline and oil, rotting seaweed and the salt marsh.

The little house sits in the reeds, ramshackle and welcoming as ever, tired and reaching under the moon. It’s empty and forlorn, alone on the edge of the edge, out past the main cluster of the cut, pushed past the tideline, separated from the rest of the flotsam by a freak wave. The Routledge boys never fit in, even with the outcasts, and they made their home like they knew it. Skidding to a stop in the gravel driveway, the sting of tiny rocks against her bare ankles is the only thing she’s really felt in hours. Her heart picks up, skipping over itself as her memory stumbles over all the years seeping out of the wind-weathered boards and the sinking foundation.

Again, it feels like this would be a moment for tears, like the sight of John B’s house, the memory of Big John’s booming laugh and all the bonfire-scented nights on that sagging porch should mean enough to make something in her crack, to finally shatter the glass walls of shock and let the grief come pouring in. But it doesn’t. She just stares up at the chateau, one part of her aching for the ease of a found family she’ll never get back, the other dreading the fate of the little house.

The breeze changes directions as she stares up at the rickety shutters and holey screens, bringing with it the tinny sound of music played out of a cell phone in a solo cup, a noise she knows well. Her stomach drops to the hard-packed dirt, crashing there with her bicycle and sending up a cloud of dust. Maybe John B survived. Maybe he made it back to shore, and he’s laying low, doing that stupid, chivalrous thing he does, trying to protect them by not letting them know. Maybe he’s out by the shed in that old metal lawn chair, Sarah in his lap, exhausted and defeated and alive. But as she gets closer, the moonlight glints off tawny waves crusted with sweat and salt, and the momentary, wild hope crashes and ebbs away from the shore.

JJ hears her, of course, sitting up in the hammock and turning toward the sound of her flat-soled sneakers slapping the dirt. “Hey,�� he says, his expressive face, for once, inscrutable.

“Hey,” she says, slightly out of breath from the sprint. “I thought you were…” she trails off, because he knows. Because he’s the only one in the whole world who can look at her and understand the cathedral dreams and vaulted memories crashing down in her chest.

“I’m not,” he says, an answer that belies more than either of them knows. JJ gets this look, when he’s seconds away from doing something particularly concerning (and usually criminal). Manic energy lights up in his blue eyes, burning anywhere from mischief to stubborn determination to full-tilt rage. The well-developed muscles in his shoulders and arms refuse to relax, and his hands get so fidgety they lose the coordination it takes to flip the zippo lighter between long, practiced fingers. His face fights with itself, half already spitting with well-steeped anger, the other tired, and broken, and grieving.

“I noticed,” she responds. She drops her bag on one of the metal folding chairs, dooming it to a coating of flaky, faded paint. Crossing the grass, hoping her broad strides will disguise the rattling breath in her chest, the shake in her hands, she moves to sit next to him in the hammock, and he shifts his weight to allow her.

There’s no verbal communication, no squabble about personal space or indignant demands she find her own seat. There never is, not with her boys. The Pogues. It seems so silly now, hiding behind that name for themselves, a name she’d never really belonged to, anyway. He’s holding a lit joint in one hand, a bottle dangling from the other, and he offers her one while swigging from the other. The old favorites of a Maybank in crisis. She takes it.

He falls back next to her, sending the hammock swinging as he gazes up at the stars. Sarah had known the most about constellations, of the five of them, but JJ knows a fair amount, too, some of the only memories of his mother the nights when she would hold him under the stars, tracing the designs across the sky, her hand wrapped around his tiny one. His eyes keep drifting off the sky and landing on Kiara, eyes distant, bathed in moonlight.

“He’s not dead,” JJ says, surprising himself as much as her. He sits up, and she follows. He stares at his feet for a while, and she thinks about putting her arms around him. “I --” he picks his head up to look at her and stops, voice stolen by the hope in her eyes. “I’d feel it,” he finishes lamely, and watches the spark die.

“The first stage of grief is denial,” she says, and it’s supposed to be at least slightly lighthearted, but it falls cruelly to the crabgrass.

“You sound like Pope,” he counters, and there’s too much weight to that name to throw it around for long. They’re both thinking of Kiara kissing him, and the memory is pleasant to neither.

She doesn’t really know why she did that. Maybe it’s because he’s everything she’s supposed to want, intelligence and ambition and ingenuity, everything she tells herself is important in a guy. Maybe because he’s in love with her. Maybe because she’s definitely in love with one of her best friends, and he’s the one who makes sense. She takes another hit and hands the blunt back to JJ.

“I’d know,” he repeats, and she knows it’s not her he’s trying to convince. He lays back in the hammock, putting the blunt between his lips and dragging deep before tilting his head back and blowing the smoke into the tumultuous night. She looks back over her shoulder, watching his jaw and the movement of his throat as he exhales. Laying back next to him, she tries not to think about the warmth of his skin against hers, the strength of the body pressed to her side. It’s only JJ, the same reckless, stupid asshole who carried that damn pistol everywhere all summer and has a talent for getting into trouble. He’s not giving her butterflies with his proximity, and she’s not thinking about reaching down and lacing her fingers through his.

Eventually, JJ flicks the roach into the darkness and stands as quickly as he can without tipping Kiara out of the hammock. She starts, not realizing she was dozing on his shoulder until it’s gone. “It’s late,” he says.

She stands as well, tucking her hands into the pocket of her sweatshirt as he kicks at the dirt. “I don’t --” she starts, and the hesitation makes him stop his nervous movement, meeting her eyes. “I don’t want to go home.” He opens his mouth to say something, but she interrupts him. “I can’t go home.”

“Okay,” he says, after a second. He doesn’t want to be alone, either. She nods, and walks past him, picking up her bag. He follows her up to the house, and they stop at the foot of the stairs to the porch, staring at the buzzing light. JJ takes a stuttering inhale Kiara pretends not to hear, and he goes up the stairs first, wrapping a shaking hand the handle to the screen door. He pauses before going in, frozen, and it isn’t until she lays her hand on his shoulder that he summons the courage to push the door open.

They knew the place was going to be tossed, but it still hurts Kiara and kills JJ, to see the overturned table and scattered papers, the couch cushions scattered on the floor and the coffee table flipped. He tries to shuffle backwards, to run from the sharp, fresh grief and the deep, familiar ache of loss and violation, but Kie is in the way, and when he turns to escape she catches him, her arms around his shoulders, his clutched around her waist. “I can’t --” he chokes, his face pressed to her neck, “It’s not --” his breath speeds up, his shoulders shaking. “They --”

“I know,” she says, swallowing down tears, herself, in that same small voice from the night in the hot tub. She knew JJ was broken, on that deep, fundamental level that, intellectually, she could conceptualize, but she could never feel. But that night, seeing the bruises on his ribs, damning as fingerprints, the ghost of his pain, the whisper of breath knocked out and the brush of betrayal, turned her chest inside out. This feels the same way, watching him lose the last shred of some semblance of home to the same kind of mindless anger and selfish authority that claimed the first one. “I know.”

But she’s still here. “Kie…” he breathes. She opens her mouth to reassure him again, but then his hands are on her face and he’s kissing her, deep and rough and desperate. She bursts into flame underneath him, paralysis broken, stupefaction overcome, as the glass walls she’s been watching through crack and shatter at her feet. JJ’s hands wrap around the back of her neck and spread across the small of her back, pushing her up against the door, and she twists her hands into his shaggy, sun-streaked hair. Every desperate question is met with his touch, and she chases it, even as he pulls away in horrified shock.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Fuck, Kie, I’m so sorry --” He tries to shove himself away from her at the instant she curls her fists in his shirt, and it almost rips as she pulls and he slams back into her. Teeth clash and noses bump and it’s not perfect or soft or loving, but passion born from desperation and terror of what it would mean to stop. Putting his hands on the door on either side of her face, he pushes himself off of her, even as she tries to yank him back. “What are we doing?” he asks, in a voice that won’t like the answer.

“JJ,” she gasps, pushing her fingers back up to tangle in blond, salt-sticky waves. “Shut up.” Pulling his mouth back down on top of hers, she gasps into him as his hands come down and frame her ribs, one of his arms sliding around her waist and the other pushing back up into her hair.

“Don’t you think --” he tries, even as he leans over her, their breathing ragged, his knuckles white in her impossibly soft curls. His forehead is pushed to hers and he can’t pull away any farther, sucked into her gravitational field, helpless to it.

“I don’t want to think,” she insists. “I want this, I need this,” This momentary pause is already too long, and if he stops kissing her, stops touching her, the tears she’s been holding back will crash over her and they won’t stop. The dark room is loud with heavy breathing as she catches the scent of him, salt and sweat and smoke. “I need you.”

His grip falters and the momentary relaxation has her pressing herself against him. “Are you sure?” he asks, and this is a choice, now. This isn’t something that either of them can pawn off as a mistake made in the heat of a desperate moment. He wants this, has wanted it, ever since he met her, but he won’t be a decision half-made, won’t take advantage of vulnerability only to become a regret. He’s giving her a way out, knows her pragmatic nature and her anxious need for well-thought plans. He wants her to think, even if she’s desperate not to.

He’s right, when he almost never is, but she knows that if she waits too long or lets in the doubt that expects her, she will break. “JJ,” she gasps, “Please.” His name, she knows, he can’t resist, not when paired with urgent pleading, and in this way, she makes her choice. He surrenders to her.

They fall onto the creaky pullout, still set up from JJ’s most recent stay, not minding the sheets and blankets wrought asunder by the angry police search. He can’t let go of her, his hands pushing up her sweatshirt, dragging over her sides and up her thighs, tangling in her hair like he’s drinking her in with his touch, intoxicated with the smell of peach in her hair and the taste of sweat on her skin. Kiara lets herself get lost in him, ride the wave of desire pushing through her, moans and gasps when he hits the right spots and closes her eyes as he lifts her shirt over her head and attaches his lips to her neck, his hands finally coming up to cover her tits, and the long careful fingers she’d spent so many afternoons watching prove adept at twisting and pinching her nipples and leaving her begging for him.

She almost rips his t-shirt off, pulling his bare chest against her own and letting the feeling of skin on skin light her up, setting fireworks off behind her eyelids. Wrapping one hand around the arm holding him up, she can feel his teeth on her neck, and she knows he’s leaving marks, and, for once, it doesn’t feel like she’s being claimed. She knows what it is -- proof this is happening, that they’re alive and feeling and crashing together again and again. She sinks her nails into his bicep as his fingers skim below the waistband of her shorts, and feels him smirk against her lips.

“Yeah?” he asks, and the teasing in his voice is tortuous and reminiscent of his old, humorous self, just enough to make her sad for a moment, and when she nods quickly in return, it’s a bid to forget that sadness. His fingers flick open the button of her shorts and as his fingers dip lower, the only thing she can think about, the only thing she can feel, is his touch, his all-consuming presence, radiating heat. The bastard takes his time, her only gratification the press of him against her hip, hot and hard. He teases her through her underwear, and she can’t say she doesn’t enjoy it, arcing into his touch, shocks of pleasure building in incredible anticipation, but he’s going too slow, and he’s wearing too many clothes, still, and the intense want gnawing at her has too much potential to turn into grief.

“Would you just --” she grunts against his mouth, cut off on a moan as he presses his fingers against her clit. “Fucking -- ah,” he works slow, hard, circles, enjoying himself as she tries to form sentences with his hands on her. “Fuck me already!” Because even this can’t be easy, not between the two of them. Because she’ll always be fighting with him, even with her bare chest pressed against his and his hand down her pants.

JJ grins, scraping his teeth over her ear. “What,” he says, still teasing, still bittersweet, as he finally pushes his hand into her underwear, “aren’t you enjoying this?” Slowly, much too slowly, his fingers part the lips of her cunt, pressing down over her clit before finding the wetness further down. JJ practically growls as his middle finger dips between her folds and he finds her soaked, dropping his forehead against the forearm braced above her head. “Fuck, Kie,” he moans, and he can’t disguise the wasted crack in his voice. “God, you’re so fucking wet.” He’s already drunk on her, every new sensation dragging him deeper.

“Your fault,” she stutters as he puts his hands, lean and strong and practiced, to good use, dragging slick fingertips back up to her clit and teasing small circles, rough, calloused skin creating delicious friction. And this -- this is what she was so desperate for, to feel only his touch and the way he pushes her higher, closer to an edge far away from the bleak grief of their every day world. He moans, too, as he dips his middle finger into her and she keens into his mouth, and she’s not thinking anymore, only chasing heat and skin and pleasure, the rest of the night foggy and distant, moonlit and blurred.

She doesn’t even know how much time passes before he’s kissing his way down her body, only that he’s fucked her so well with his hands he has three fingers inside her and she’s asking for more. He pulls his hand away and she lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched noise at the loss of contact, only to end on a gasp when she opens her eyes to see that he has his fingers curled around the waistband of her shorts and his face is hovering near her hips, pupils blown wide as he looks up at her. He asks her something, but blood rushes in her ears as her heart pounds and her chest heaves and it isn’t until his tongue darts out to wet his lips that she realizes what he’s saying.

“Fuck, yes, please,” she whines, and it feels like less than instant before her shorts are on the floor and his head is between her legs, his tongue on her clit, and she screams, pushing her hands into his hair as his mouth launches her higher and keeps her there, wave upon wave crashing over her until her legs are shaking, and when she feels the pull deep in her stomach and he takes half a second to breathe, she has enough presence of mind to yank him back up, slamming his lips down onto hers, tasting herself there.

“Inside me,” she gasps, ragged and raw and scraping. “Now.”

“But you haven’t --” he breathes, and she reaches down, shoving past the waistband of the shorts he’s still wearing, her hand on his cock stopping him dead.

“Now,” she repeats. And then, leans up to kiss him, slightly softer than before, as if in apology for being so rough, but more as a distraction as her hands unbutton his shorts and shove them down his thighs, her hands finding him again and stroking his cock until he’s gasping into her mouth. “Unless,” she says between short kisses, trying to keep her tone light, even as her cunt aches for him. “You changed your mind?”

He scrambles out of his shorts and boxers so fast it’s almost funny, but the laugh falls out of her chest as he braces his forearms on either side of her face, pushing her hair back from her forehead and looking at her so carefully it almost hurts. “I don’t have a condom,” he says, uncharacteristic worry trembling in his voice.

“I’m clean,” she says, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair once more, to ground her, and disguise their shaking. “You?”

He nods. “What about --”

“I have an IUD,” she says, more grateful than ever for her liberal mother and her own presence of mind.

He licks his lips again, eyes dropping to her mouth before flicking back up to her eyes. “Last chance,” he says, like she’s going to change her mind and push him off of her, run off into the night and leave him here, disgraced and embarrassed. “Still sure?” he asks, like he’s expecting her to say no. She nods without hesitation, caught in his blue eyes, turned cobalt in the half-light. He kisses her one more time, and it’s laden with years of things he hasn’t said, and she surges up with urgency, not ready for the tenderness in his touch. JJ tries to slow her down again, to revel in the moment of bare skin and vulnerability, no matter how guarded it may be, but she reaches down, wrapping her hand around his dick, guiding him closer to her, and he’s falling into her touch, into her orbit, helpless.

She draws him inside her, his forehead dropping to her shoulder with a forsaken, heavy breath. It’s too soft, this moment before he moves, too easy to break, every sense on fire. The air is too close to her skin, too tight around her arms, like she could rip the fabric of it with the barest movement. She wants to be lost in him again, to feel separate, far away and floating above herself, not so torturously in her body, JJ trembling and present above her. “JJ,” she says, opening her eyes to find his, a split-second mistake, the next word hitching on its way out of her chest. “Move.”

He does, mercifully lowering his face to press against her neck, the eye contact too substantial, too burdensome to hold. The bubble surrounding them expands as he works her up to that blissful edge with ease, his mouth letting out a stream of filthy words about how good she feels surrounding him. Closing her eyes, she tilts her head back, letting her hands have free reign over his back, his shoulders, his arms and up into his hair, every place she wants to touch him when she watches his ridiculous muscles ripple under his young, tan skin. He shifts his weight, hooking her knee over his hip so his cock hits exactly the right spot with every thrust, and she cries out, racing higher.

She should have expected that JJ likes to run his mouth -- she only catches parts of what he’s saying, things like ‘so fucking hot’ and ‘sound so fucking good’ and ‘so fucking wet for me’ and as her moans increase in pitch and volume, he growls “c’mon, Kie, cum for me,” and she falls apart. He fucks her through the aftermath and she barely knows what noises are coming out of her mouth, her nails digging angry welts in his back. Just when she thinks she can’t take anymore, he tenses and spills inside her on a half-broken sigh.

Her vision sharpens as he rolls off of her, collapsing on the squeaky bedsprings, and the house is too quiet all of a sudden, the air once again too close. Her breath slows, the sweat cooling on her skin in the soft breeze pushing through the wooden walls, the still-open front door. Neither of them says anything, and Kiara can feel him looking at her, his blown out smile too loud in the fallout. She sits up, almost flinching at the light touch of his fingers on his spine when he picks up a strand of her hair. “I’m gonna pee,” she says, finding her underwear and pulling them on, and then, after half a moment, pulling his discarded t-shirt over her head.

Her head echoes as she steps over the scattered mess to get to the bathroom, like she’s walking through a tunnel. Her legs ache and tremble, and she wraps her arms around herself, numb and falling. She fights tears as she washes her hands. The bathroom is, as always, a deplorable mess, products everywhere and hair all over the sink. Her green bikini top is still on the floor from when she’d forgotten it just the other day, and that girl feels impossibly far from the one staring at herself in the mirror, wearing her best friend’s shirt while he’s naked in the next room. There’d be shame, and guilt, too, if the smell of John B’s deodorant didn’t choke her with overwhelming loss. Bracing her hands on either side of the sink, she can’t hold it back anymore, and sobs spill out of her, harsh and echoing in the small space.

JJ is behind her an instant, half-dressed in basketball shorts and drawing her into his arms, tucking her close to him, her tears hot on his skin. “He’s gone,” she whimpers. “He’s really gone.” He doesn’t say anything, just guides her back to the pullout and straightens the blankets enough for her to fall in. She curls up on her side, crying so hard she can’t breathe, and he climbs in across from her, pushing one arm under her neck and using the other to pull her against him, his lips pressed to her forehead.

Tears leak out of his own eyes, silent and soft to her earth-shattering grief. “It’s gonna be okay,” he reassures her, fighting the quiver in his own voice, his chin shaking with the effort of it. He stares into the empty darkness above her head, every jerk of her prone body another crack in his breaking heart. “He’s coming back,” he says, more to himself than her. “He’s coming back to us.”

When she finally quiets down, the betrayal of dawn is beginning to lighten the sky, the moon fading, and the idea of this night being over feels impossible. For a short while, they breathe each other in, her forehead pressed to his collarbones, his hand trailing up and down her spine. Her head aches and her eyelids fall heavy over gritty, exhausted eyes, but she still fights sleep, stubbornly resisting another day, the beginning of a life without John B and Sarah. “I can’t stay here,” she says, finally, pushing back from him. “I should go home.”

He reaches up to catch her chin as she watches her hands curled close to his chest, reluctant to go. “Kie,” he murmurs, lifting her gaze to meet his. He moves forward to kiss her, and she flattens her palms against his skin, stopping him even as her eyes fall to his lips.

“JJ,” she says, an exhale more than his name. “We -- I mean, I --”

“Shit,” he sighs, and it almost sounds like a laugh, formed from expectations he wished hadn’t come true. “Okay.” His eyes flutter close, and she watches him draw back into himself, close all the doors, like he wants to turn off the lights and pretend he’s not even here. But then, he looks at her again, gently smoothing a curl behind her ear. “It’s just --” he starts, and inhales again, wetting his lips as he struggles to keep his eyes on her deep brown ones. “Can we go back to normal tomorrow?” Her eyebrows push together a fraction of an inch, and he focuses on the wrinkle there, a thousand times easier than holding her gaze. “Please,” he says when she inhales to say something. “I don’t want to be alone.”

It’s the first time either of them have been completely honest all night, and the most he’s said in hours. “Yeah,” she says, agreeing without thinking. Making it about him instead of admitting to herself that she wants to stay, that she doesn’t want to be alone either. “Yeah, okay.” She allows herself to be kissed, to be held and kept softly. JJ twists his fingers in her curls, skims his lips over her hairline before pressing his forehead against hers.

He tucks his hand against the side of her neck, his fingers spanning from her ear to the juncture of her neck and shoulder. “It’s gonna be alright,” he promises, and they both pretend he’s saying it to her. She’s seen JJ cheerful and stubborn, breaking and angry, seen him a thousand different ways. But never like this, kind and soft, quiet in the grey, grieving dawn. Eventually, she falls asleep under his touch and reassuring whispers.

The morning is just as sticky and unforgiving as every other that summer, and she wakes up damp and sticky with sweat. JJ is stretched out on his stomach, arms tucked under his head, mouth slack and hair falling over his eyes. Her head still hurts, and now so do her back and thighs, and she stretches her hand out across the rumpled sheets, tracing the red lines she’d left down his back. He blinks awake, closing his mouth and freezing when he feels her touch on his skin.

“Hey,” she murmurs.

“Hey,” he replies.

She waits for him to say something, but he just watches her, his clear blue eyes unflinching. She bites her lip. “I should get home,” she says, keeping her eyes on the knuckle tracing over his back, his gaze too heavy to hold.

“Yeah,” he says, “okay.” Neither of them move. The world waits on a hair trigger, and JJ’s more familiar with this kind of silence than she is. She wants him to break it first, to be the impulsive hothead he always is, to make the choice for both of them. But he doesn’t, and the moment crumbles, and she sits up and goes in search of her clothes.

He doesn’t say anything until she stoops to pick up her bag, sweatshirt in hand, ready to shove it into the biggest pocket. “Kie,” he says, and she stops dead, looking up at him. She doesn’t know what she wants him to say, but she deflates anyway when he just asks “my shirt?”

She’d forgotten she was wearing it. Pulling it off, she feels his hungry eyes trace up her bare chest as she untangles the drug rug before pulling it down and arranging it around her hips. She tosses him the shirt, and he holds her gaze as he flips it right side out and tugs it on. They stand on either side of the disheveled living room, daring the other person to say something, move, do anything first. He knows what he wants, what he can’t have, what he’s convinced himself he never will. She remembers the line she drew, the boundary she’d very clearly set. He chooses to respect it while she waits for him to break the rules.

Birds sing in the unflinching morning, and a breeze stirs the hair around her face. She slings her backpack over her shoulder. The sun blazes as gulls call and waves lap against the dock. He tilts his chin back, like he always does just before a fight. She turns to go.

#outer banks #jiara #jj x kiara #kiara x jj #kiara/jj #jj/kiara #outer banks fanfiction #jiara fanfic #jiara fic #jiara fanfiction #jiara smut #jiara angst #angst #smut #hurt/comfort #PLEASE interact with this I'm LITERALLY BEGGING YOU

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captainunderkrupp · 4 years

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give us forbidden hickory lore?!?!?! (about how hes a bounty hunter, stuff like that?)

:3c ok let’s see

he’s a family first kind of guy. you know, protect the ones he loves before literally anything else... including possibly hurting others. (i mean, he was willing to hunt down a queen and turn in her string to keep him and his brother safe...) i hc that the theoretical avalanche did happen, but a lot earlier, and it separated hickory and dickory from any other yodeling trolls. they ended up having to take care of each other from then on, and probably their protectiveness of each other is stronger than anything that might make them reconsider what they do.

(at least until Poppy and Branch XD )

he and his brother are REALLY good at disguises. i imagine he’s had some looks like his concept art, and he’s usually the front man and gets disguised by his brother, who is probably really good at sewing and other costuming stuff. hickory probably does any kind of building that’s necessary for that. he also is pretty good at impressions but country is the best, tho that’s bc he started adopting the accent properly once he realized he likes country

he’s probably not the type to take a dead or alive job, he’s a bounty hunter not an assassin. that being said, i would not be surprised if he’s had to fight someone for his life before, especially when he wasn’t as skilled as he currently is in canon. (on the flip side, dickory has definitely killed a troll, and probably to protect hickory)

he’s strong. really strong. pick up and carry poppy, branch, biggie AND a heavy wooden door at a full run strong. so is dickory, tho their sizes mean hickory can usually win at wrestling or something if they fought. (all trolls are weirdly strong for their size, but he’s like, just a bit over on the edge of strong for a troll.)

he mostly knows their world’s equivalent of german (his first language) and english, but he also is passable at a couple other languages, just enough that he could probably fool someone who has heard/started to learn the language before, but not a native speaker. dickory only knows enough of these languages to follow conversation.

dickory could be a spy if he had to. hickory has probably distracted a person while dickory sneaks around and grabs them before. dickory is scary quiet and really fast, to the point where you don’t even know he’s there when he’s standing right behind you sometimes. hickory is also pretty fast but he’s not nearly so quiet, so he usually is the go-to distraction if they ever have to pull something.

they are REALLY GOOD at tracking. it’s why they specialize in bounty hunting as opposed to other jobs they could pull. they can usually figure out where a troll is going to go next if they have even just a little bit of information, and can easily track them down from there. bc of their skills, hickory is usually the one to focus on tracking, and dickory covers their own tracks in case other people are on their targets tail.

hickory and dickory are their real names, and they usually use them. however, they do use different last names and nicknames when they have to go undercover. hickory just worked really well for the pop trolls suddenly appearing in lonesome flats. (this is probably the first time they’ve used their real names in a while, and are more well known as the yodelers by their employers and anyone who might have a bounty on their head)

i think the reason hickory was turned so fast to helping poppy was partially because they were so friendly and nice, and partially bc this job was mostly coerced. see, think he sort of fell for poppy and branch (brickoppy is my JAM) when not only did they treat him like the way he was used to family treating him (memories of home, and also how he interacts with dickory. seriously pop trolls are very touchy and friendly it’s kind of ridiculous) they also were more interesting to him than some of their previous targets. seriously it’s easy to not get attached to someone who you know murdered someone, it’s harder when you know their only crime is existing. (i know pop trolls have a bad rap in that world, but rock trolls were starting to get that same sort of reputation...) also sometimes you hang around some ppl who not only are they proud of their own music, they defend others’ rights to have their own music and are willing to learn from others, as opposed to the person who threatened to take away your music if you didn’t make sure to fight other bounty hunters you might have worked with before. (seriously tho i think at first he was like ‘eh, neat song, and it’s nice that the one appreciates country, but they’re just pop trolls. i’ll get the string and leave’ to watching poppy learn and appreciate music and realizing that if he supports her, they might all have a chance to survive

i would not be surprised if he has released some ppl before tho. but he’s probably come to an agreement with dickory about it before, never just told them to leave. he knew he couldn’t change dickory’s mind about this, their heritage, their culture. that’s the one thing dickory would never back down on trying to keep, besides his brother. it was always ‘hey this person got framed we’re just gonna go find a different bounty’ never ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING HICKORY’ before this. also it was like. a split second decision, i think. he’d been contemplating, possibly subconsciously, up to that point, but when he finally had to make a decision... well. he made it. hence another reason why dickory was so shocked.

oh wow that got long. hope it makes sense tho!

#dreamworks trolls #fluiditywrites #trolls world tour #hickory #dickory #talk tag #answered #trolls #twt #twt spoilers #meta #some of this is direct responses to some comments on the main post yes #i might change some of this and add more later #but for right now this is just what i can think of off the top of my head #Anonymous

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mousehole5000 · 3 years

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wow i made this draft on november 1st i really took a break from this huh anyway tgcf chapters 121 - 142

i realize now this coffin scene was inevitable. feel kinda weird about hua cheng back and forth from Teen to Big Man but it is very funny that theyre having their “dude dont look at my boner” moment while in the jaws of a water dragon

pei ming: why didnt you guys make a bigger coffin so you didnt have to squish together like that? xie lian: haha yep!! anyways what brings you here?

“In the grand, spacious centre of the entrance hall sat a person. And this person, dressed in all black, its face snow-white—was a corpse! Instantly Xie Lian shut the doors soundly.” - king of minding his own business.

okay this is where i stopped putting notes here for a while but i did save some in my e-reader so here’s some of the highlights

“Guzi used to have a good sleeping form, but perhaps with his cheap dad’s bad influence, now he was also spread out on top of Qi Rong’s stomach like a dead fish. Lang Ying himself was curled neatly in the corner, and was covered by a few shirts. Xie Lian lifted the blanket covering Qi Rong, suppressed the urge to smother his face, and covered the two small children.” - xie lian funny moments. also it would be really funny if qi rong redeems himself by learning love through these misfit chiildren and it might actually endear me to him but i hope that doesnt happen

Every heavenly official was yelling, and even Ling Wen was throwing a fit. “DON’T THROW EVERY BIT OF USELESS INFORMATION MY WAY, HOW MUCH DO YOU THINK I HAVE TO GO THROUGH EVERY DAY? DON’T YOU ALL KNOW TO USE YOUR BRAINS A LITTLE BEFORE ASKING ME?!” - ling wen marry me right now

“An expression like “seen a ghost” that only mortals experienced was now showing on his face for the first time. Shi Wudu’s pupils shrank to the smallest they could, and he blurted, “You’re still alive?!” “I’m dead!” He Xuan said coldly.” - okay everythings going tits up rn but i did laugh

i did see spoilers re: ming yi/he xuan reveal + shi wudu’s fate beforehand so i dont have a genuine reaction other than oh shit

“He slowly enunciated each word. “I won’t touch your fate. But, here in this place, chop off your brother’s head for me.” CLANG! He threw a rusty blade onto the ground. Shi Qingxuan stared at that blade, his eyes wide. He Xuan continued, “Then, never show yourself before me again, and I will pretend you’ve never existed in this world.” - okay idk what else is going to happen but rn im concerned that this is like the 2nd biggest ship. i guess we’ll see?? i mean i am really curious whats going to happen to them. shi qingxuan keeps calling he xuan “ming-xiong” and i... sad

shi wudu im not really invested in you as a character but these next two bits... interesting

“If I don’t die but have nothing, then that’s truly a fate worse than death. If I’m not the Water God, I can’t take care of you. I won’t even be able to protect myself. I’m scared that we won’t even last two days…TAKE IT!” - damn. something about the wealthy losing everything and not knowing how to live without it bc thats their entire life and identity

“EVERYTHING I HAVE TODAY, I FOUGHT FOR MYSELF. I WILL FIGHT FOR WHAT I DON’T HAVE. I WILL CHANGE FATE I DON’T POSSESS. MY FATE IS UP TO ME AND NOT THE HEAVENS!” - okay so the whole committing spiritual fraud by tormenting a man and his family to get your brother a cushy title thing aside this was kind of badass. heretical? possibly. but still. also is he intentionally riling up he xuan so sqx doesnt have to kill him? if so damn...

also okay as long as im here im just gonna say it. the choice that he xuan gives shi qingxuan is fucking brutal but i actually think its probably as fair as it could be. sqx didnt know about or participate in what happened to hx but they did benefit from it greatly while hx lost EVERYTHING and i can understand he xuan’s thinking of “if you really feel bad for what happened to me then you have to make a sacrifice and understand the suffering and this is as clean as its going to get” and theres a bit where sqx is trying to beg for mercy but cant get the words out which im guessing is bc theres no good argument!! what happened was fucked up!!

“When Pei Ming saw that reinforcements had arrived, he didn’t appear particularly delighted; instead he threw the sword into the ground, then rubbed his nose and said, sounding grim, “You all just had to come just as I finished making these, what the heck.” - pei ming making coffins chopping down trees with his sword i love it #wastehistime2k17

“Xie Lian brought that basket of eggs along, and gave them away as souvenirs from the mortal realm. Many who received the eggs were overjoyed; some deciding to eat it along with their own blood, and some proclaiming they would hatch an eight-foot monster.” - GHOST CITY GHOST CITY

“Placing the brush down, he blew lightly at the ink and smiled. “If I like something, then my heart will not have room for any other, and I’ll always treasure it. A thousand times, a million times, no matter how many years, this will not change. This poem is the same." - thats nice and all but king... get therapy. i actually have further thoughts but tbh i dont want to put them into words bc they are simply too personal! moving on

didnt take any notes but somewhere in here was the bit with mount tong’lu opening and hua cheng losing it and kind of um. hm. that scene. thats another trope i really hate tbh i dont care for it as a way of including physical intimacy between characters and idk if it really ever adds anything but whatever moving on

The Half-Maquillage Woman - kind of interesting monster idea bc women and aging…. yeah. however i think this would be a lot stronger if there were a) more girls and this was b) discussed or illustrated at all prior to this moment. still interesting that its included knowing the author is a woman tho and there’s been comments on how ling wen is perceived vs pei ming. this book does keep giving me hope for interesting female character arcs i really want it to deliver something

quan yizhen..... i get u

lmao i have a note on a bit with lang ying that says “please dont be hc in disguise” and..... my clown nose was on but at least i knew that. for real this is bothering me how much he’s just. always. there. i know he’s a lead but we didn’t really need him around for a lot of this. oh well. okay now to my current notes

“Yet it was precisely because it wasn’t cooked that it had to be eaten quickly. Once Xie Lian cooked it, it wouldn’t be edible anymore” - fucking fantastic

“Xie Lian hugged his belly. “Of course! Only after having met you did I rediscover that it’s such a simple thing to be happy, hahaha…” Hearing this, Hua Cheng blinked. Xie Lian’s laughter quieted a bit, realizing what he just said was a little too revealing.” - okay i know i said what i said about being tired of hua cheng being everywhere but... the line…. the fact that theyre laughing together…. :pleading:

“It’s not,” Ling Wen said. “At least, I believe, there will definitely not be another in history who can create a dish called ‘Incorruptible Chastity Meatballs’” - and truer words were never spoken

“I, DO NOT WORSHIP GODS. “I, AM GOD!” - this was every bit as badass as i hoped but no one told me it was immediately followed up by a little bit of the ol dinner theater fjalkdsfjsd. also puqi shrine noooooooooo

“Xie Lian sighed as he thought, “Qi Rong has taken Guzi away, who knows if the poor child was eaten or abandoned. Wind Master...... ..... who knows if Black Water took him away. Pray they’re both safe.” yeah hey are we going to fucknig. find out what happened to the child???

and yeah i dooooont really care for the age regression? thing thats going on. i just dont like that trope tbh. but tiny hua cheng whipping out his fat ghost king wallet in the store was funny tho. it is really funny that hualian are just like wandering around some random towns while the heavens are in an uproar. i guess theres not much else to do but its funny

“Me too, me too. You all know of my shixiong, right? Talented, with an infinite future! He only had one small vice: he loved playing women. Decades ago, a little prostitute ghost seduced my shixiong and sucked him dry into human jerky, and that Hua, Hua, Hua, that ghost king dared shelter her.” - yes omg give me the forbidden hua cheng lore i love this for him for real it goes along nicely with xie lian’s principles about giving another cup. god i love shared values

“Hua Cheng poked again, and a small hole appeared on the wall, as if the wall was made of tofu.” - how’d he do that. why is this a ghost king power. its useful tho

*me shaking qi rong when he pops up* WHERE IS THE CHILD

mu qing fu yao is here okay im happy now. once again no one has a good grasp on their secret identity and i love that. this inn has descended into chaos and im delighted and im glad lan chang is back

“The good ol’ kitchen was suddenly squished and crowded, loud and noisy. Fu Yao was chasing that fetus spirit leaping up and down, Lan Chang was chasing after Fu Yao like she had gone mad. Half of Qi Rong’s face changed shape by the way Xie Lian was pressing him down on the chopping board, his back turning into a target for those yellow talismans Fu Yao hurled while being observed by a crowd, and Lan Chang would step on him from time to time.” - this is pure chaos. i love that mu qing was in that room when the mob checked and he didnt say a word didnt open the door just sent out a talisman as a warning. king your disguise is transparent

“Xie Lian remembered the way Feng Xin laughed until he was hoarse when he first heard that verbal password all those years back, and couldn’t help but feel nostalgic, even though it wasn’t the right time.” - awwwww omg im emotional about this... faithful friend feng xin laughing at xie lian’s stupid joke password and remembering it!!! ;_;

“They have, but they’re not effective,” Feng Xin said. “Usually they’re the most diligent in scorning the Palace of Ling Wen, like they could do the job way better if they had the position. Now that we need them to take up the task, not a single one can do even half of what she does.” - typical... typical typical typical

also emotional about the fact that feng xin contacted xie lian at all.....

also!! emotional about lan chang as a mom and wanting to help out sick lil guzi.....

xie lian forcing “fu yao” to let him help “his general” is making me.... what is friendship if not playing along with your buddies little shenanigans while also making them accept your help

“Someone like Mu Qing, even though he’s narrow-minded, petty, sensitive and skeptical, has a bad personality, constantly guessing, doesn’t say nice things, likes to nag, always offending people and has a lot of people who dislike him, has no friends, can remember small, unimportant details for a long period of time…” ”Xie Lian went on in one breath with a straight face, but in the end he concluded with, “...But I’ve known him since we were kids, after all, he’s still got principles.” - XIE LIAN PLEASE AFJDLKSFJDL omg ive seen this quote before but i figured he was talking to someone else not actually to mu qing himself fgjasdkfjsl. god thats amazing. hey im gonna help you out because i care but i will roast you first <3

waaaaaait so is lan chang aka jian lan that girl from book 2 we took a page to talk about and then disappeared? that has to be it why else would we have stopped to discuss her

“Jian Lan spat on his face, then choking his neck, she slapped him twice again. “WHAT SHITTY SUPREME! YOU SURE KNOW HOW TO BLOW YOURSELF UP! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, THINK YOU’RE EVEN WORTH TO BE THOUGHT OF AS EQUALS WITH THE OTHER THREE SUPREMES? WHAT ARE YOU EVEN GOOD AT? YOUR THICK SKIN? OF COURSE I DARE HIT YOU!” - oh this feels so good i cant lie. YES GET HIM!! CHOMPING AND VIOLENCE YES!!!!

okay this description of cuocuo.... im... that sure the hell is a creature

this book is so entertaining bc i already saw spoilers for the feng xin/jian lan/cuo cuo reveal and yet i could never have predicted the circumstances that brought it about. imagine being feng xin. the heavens are in an uproar and your only friend/enemy has been jailed for possible fetus spirit-related crimes but he escapes along with this female ghost who keeps causing problems. you figure “fuck it lets see if dianxia kept his old phone number” and he has but then he hangs up on you. you’ve got fuckall else to do so you go find him. mu qing is there but he’s in his disguise the two of you were using so you could watch over his highness while staying aloof. you think you see hua cheng only he’s a chiild for some goddamn reason but who knows at this point. the female ghost is also there and theres a fetus spirit climbing trees and biting your arrows in half. you realize the female ghost is your ex and the little demon is your son. it bites you. what do you do

amazing that despite everything going on everyone is still playing along with the “fu yao” persona when it would probably be easier to drop pretenses at this point. then again tbh if i could explain my actions to my friends while pretending to be a third party.... i probably would so.. carry on

“With all his devotees gone, only Feng Xin still treated him like the Flower-Crowned Martial God and His Highness the Crown Prince. ” “...his protection charms were all seen as trash. However, Feng Xin was still determined and tireless in handing them out; telling Xie Lian, look, you still have devotees.” “After all, he was the darling of the heavens since birth, high and mighty. Feng Xin so naturally spun around him like he was the world, so how could he possibly have his own life, his own heart” “Whether or not that fetus spirit was Feng Xin’s son, if it was that period of poverty that made Feng Xin lose the girl he loved, Xie Lian wouldn’t be able to forgive himself no matter what." ohhhh my god this relationship i. im...

oh my god i still have 30 more chapters until book 4............ its naptime now i think

#tgcf liveblog #so close and yet so far......#i keep hearing tell of this fabled book 4 i must press onwards......#but now im sleepy.....#mouse mumbles

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pettyprocrastination · 4 years

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Ok I have a major thing for handwriting idk so what do you think Ezra's handwriting looks like? (And on that topic, try not to think about love letters from Ezra when you're apart... Or do, I'd love to hear your thoughts bc I'm kinda dying here) I also feel like he's the kind of person to have just... a box of things you've written for him... Like literally anything. Shopping lists, letters, etc. and when he's away he takes them out and reads them :))

okay im feeling lonely and a little sad tonight so I immediately ran with this and uhhhhh this happened. (last bit is between him and reader from the thing “Stupid Man” that i posted earlier today. ) this ended up being a bit longer than expected sorry lmao

I’ve never written Ezra before please be gentle with me y’all

For this we're gonna say that Ezra is right-handed.

I think Ezra had beautiful handwriting. Smooth, sloping neat lines ever since he was able to write. While other kids had to work on their penmanship, his was a natural gift. His handwriting was one that teachers would compliment in grade school, so distracted by the smooth strokes of his pencil that they hadn’t noticed the words used on his assignments weren’t even his, but that of the student sitting right next to him. The girls in his class would giggle and swoon at the albeit juvenile words of affections he’d write to them on secret notes passed back and forth between them, a habit he kept well into his adulthood. While he wasn’t proud of it, the harvester would leave notes of bittersweet goodbyes to lovers the morning after, remarking on how he would never forget the time spent working together on harvesting deposits as well as the intimate “and dare I say magical” nights they spent with one another. The women he laid with would be so enamored with his words and the rose tinted images his words painted, that by the time they would realize he’d taken off with their share of the harvest as well as his own, he’d be far enough into the stars all they could do was curse his name to the sky in anger.

And then, one harvest in the Green, he had met a man named Damon and a brave little girl named Cee.

These meetings, whether it was predestined or not, lead to him losing his right arm, and with it his beautiful handwriting.

Learning to write again was frustrating, as a child it had come to him with ease, a natural gift. But as a grown man? Kevva alive it was enough to make him contemplate putting his fist through a wall. Until-

“Ez,” You poked your head into the den, eyes squinting and a blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders. “It’s three am, come to bed baby.”

You.

You made it worth it. With every shy smile you wore each time he gave you a written proclamation of his love and dedication to you, no matter how messy his chicken scratch writing was you’d pepper his face with his kisses in gratitude.

“My poet.” You’d coo in his ear. He’d feel that every moment of frustration was worth it, if he could see you like this every time.

After losing his arm, Ezra became more appreciative of little written things. The notes you’d leave on the kitchen counter when you go to work, the way you doodle smiley faces and cartoon fruit on grocery lists, even the little slips of encouragement you sneak into his pocket when you thought he wouldn't notice.

He did notice. He noticed every time actually. But he didn’t say anything out of fear that you would stop.

Ezra had a little box of mementos about you, a ticket stub from the first movie you saw, an aurelac gem from your first dig together (one he swore to himself to never sell) and all the little notes, lists, and reminders you’d ever written. When one of you has to leave for a long period of time, whether it be work, or family or whatever reason. Each time he’ll open that box when he feels deepest in his lonesome, and his heart will lift just the tiniest bit.

(next bit is just a little except with Ezra x Alien!Reader following this prompt)

Ezra must not have heard your key slide into the lock, or the door open at all. The washing machine was loud enough to drown it out, the damn thing was on its last life as it shook and trembled enough for you to send it a distasteful glare as if it were human.

The wood creaked under your steps and yet, nothing. No thumping of excited feet to be met with a bruising kiss to your lips, mumbled “I missed you” against one another as you inevitably celebrated your return in bed with each other.

You continued your trek to his bedroom as softly as you could.

Maybe he was asleep?

He sat on the corner of his bed, his back to you and a box in his lap.

You found yourself staring at him with a smile, leaning against the door frame as you watched his sift through a box full of little notes and lists you’d written over your time together with a bittersweet smile.

“Is this what you do whenever I leave?”

Ezra jumped, flinging the box from his lap and spilling all it’s contents onto the floor. A variety of emotions crossed over his face before one took over them all at the sight of you.

Pure joy.

He crossed to you in three quick strides. His hand found itself at the nape of your neck, pulling you to him for a heated kiss that you were all too grateful for due to your time apart.

“Oh my darling warrior has returned.” He spoke between the feather-light kisses he laid all over your face, turning you into a fit of flustered giggles at the feeling of his scruff against your skin.

“Were those diplomats as horrid and soulless as you claimed them to be?”

You pulled away and groaned. “Even worse. But that doesn’t matter now.”

“That it does not.” He agreed, his thumb rubbed comforting circles against your skin. “Not a day went by when I didn’t think of that shining smile or alluring voice, having you part from me is like robbing an addict of their temptation.”

You pressed your hand against his mouth. If he spoke any further you definitely wouldn’t be able to focus on anything other than taking off his clothes. “Enough of that smooth talker.” Your eyes went to the pile of notes across the floor. You spotted one, a tiny birthday card with a coffee stain on the corner, that was from the first time you celebrated his birthday together. It had been three months into your relationship. You stared up at him.

“You really kept them all?”

The look in his eyes, so soft and tender part of you was worried he’d break in your hands. But you knew better than that.

“I’d be a fool if I didn’t, brave one.” He rested his forehead against yours, exhaling a shaky breath as he did. “I am afraid I’m not as strong as I first surmised I would be at your frequent departures-”

Guilt washed over you in a hot wave. “Ezra-”

“-but I am extremely grateful that you return to me each time.” He interrupted, a soft kiss pressed against your pulse-point to punctuate, your eyes fluttered shut and he smiled.

“It is a blessing with no disguise that such a woman as yourself would go see the world and decide to return to the humble abode of a lowly, former harvester such as myself after each one. I do not need a reminder of that gift, but still, it helps the distance feel just a click smaller.”

You sniffed and bumped your forehead against his with a tear smile. “Stupid man.” You weakly scolded, your voice wavering and not holding its usual command of the room.

Ezra smiled, oh how he loved to hear you call him that. Ever since you first found him years ago on your home planet, and witnessed him nearly get killed because of his lack of knowledge on the plant life there. You’d guided him throughout his dig, all while criticizing his stupidity, lack of preparation and “positively abhorrent attitude, you stupid man! Coming to a planet you know nothing of? Surely you want to die!”

Over time he learned that “stupid man” was your version of “I love you.”

“You know you’ll never be without me, Ezra.” You dipped your head down and pressed a kiss to his chest. “No matter how far I am, you will always have me with you. Please don’t ever forget that.”

His hand slid up to rest on your cheek, you didn’t miss the way his fingers trembled oh so slightly against your skin.

“Oh gentle warrior.” He whispered with a warm smile. “I do not deserve you.”

You thought-no, you knew he deserved you and much more. But he hadn’t realized that yet. You believed that Ezra deserved the world. You couldn’t give him that, so you settled for your love, devotion and handwritten notes slipped into his back pocket when you thought he wouldn’t notice.

He noticed every time.

#Ezra #ezra prospect #ezra x reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #prospect #anyways its the middle of the night and im in my feelings thank you for this ask sweet one <3 #i hope you liked it

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