#i forgot how to tag lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Users from the US are the majority of Tumblr visitors.

#i forgot how to tag lol

angry-geese · 1 year

Text

Blood Ties - Chapter 44: In Hell I'll Be in Good Company

soulmate au Choso x reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, swearing. jjk manga spoilers

Synopsis: another flashback + a short lived reunion between Itadori and Fushiguro

a/n: most of this was written on mobile to apologies for any formatting issues :)

Word Count: just over 2k

prev - next

masterlist

(Summer 1999)

Fear registers itself on James' face before anything else. Then, silence.

The back wheel of his bike squeaks horribly as 10-year-old James Whitford drags himself—and his now damaged bike—from the ditch. Ahead to what must be the west, the sun dips beneath the trees. It’ll be dark soon.

“Be back before the streetlights come on.”

His mother’s warning only serves as a grim reminder of how far he is from home. If it weren't for the events in the woods, he would be concerned about what waits for him at home. Be it his mother’s wrath, or his stepfather’s.

Either of those he’d rather deal with, than face what lies for him just beyond the treeline.

Rustling from within the treeline has him scrambling onto the road, leaving his bike abandoned. He’s faster than a lot of kids his age—a year of junior football has made sure of that.

He runs. Onto the street, past the abandoned house, and onto the corner where he meets with his street.

Standing before him, is a boy who he’d soon come to learn is Louis Rau.

His face is red from panic, and the tears that fall silently down his cheeks. He bleeds from his ears, and from a wound on his knee. It's clear that someone—or something—got to him long before James did.

Their eyes meet for a moment. Just long enough to come to a mutual understanding: the only way they get out of this alive is together.

The boy seizes him by the wrist, pulling James to him. Despite being a year older, Louis Rau is considerably smaller than him. The strangest thing about this boy is the lack of red string around his finger.

“My house is closer!” Louis says. “Please, hurry!”

So the boys do the only thing they can think of in this situation: they cry out for their mother’s.

Louis' mother is just arriving home when the boys return, almost purple with fear. Still dressed in her work uniform—a set of purple scrubs, with a lanyard—she steps out of her car to greet the two boys, a look of horror slowly settling over her face.

Fear quickly turns to anger when she stops to ask: “it wasn't those boys again, was it?”

When Louis shakes his head no, his mother doesn't take that for an answer. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. From the receiver in the wall, she picks up the landline, and begins to punch in a number—belonging to a woman who lives just down the street, who’s son is known to be a local terror.

“Don't call her!” Louis cries out.

Amy pauses for a moment, as if to weigh her options. The phone hits the receiver with a click. The space between her eyebrows creases with stress.

She squats down to be eye-level with James, who has been lingering in the doorway for the past several minutes.

“Is this a friend of yours?” She asks.

The question is directed at Louis, but Ms. Rau is looking at James. Both boys exchange a glance, stammering out a few fragments of a sentence, before deciding on a “yes”.

In the Rau's small, cramped kitchen, Amy cleans the blood pouring from her son's ears. James takes much less time to patch up, only needing a band-aid for his knee. And the two students silently agree to themselves to keep what they witnessed in the woods that day a secret.

…

[Present day Tokyo Colony no. 2]

James notices the ringing in his ears before anything else.

Shadows move along the corners of his vision. They’re neither human, nor cursed spirit. Nothing is there. It’s a byproduct of blood loss, and stress. If he stretches out his hand, he’ll touch nothing but the smooth tile of the wall.

Next, he registers the pain in his hand. It’s died down considerably now, turning from a stabbing feeling, to a dull ache. By now, much of the bleeding has stopped. He frees the tourniquet from his forearm, tossing it off to the side.

The feeling returns to his chest, before slowly working its way out to his limbs.

Slowly, James makes his way towards the bathroom.

The lights in the hallway are too dim to make out much. With his uninjured hand, he feels along the wall, until he touches a raised metal plate: a sign. A wet floor sign props the door open. Flipping the light switch fills the room with a sterile white light.

He stumbles towards the first sink he can find, turning it on full blast. Steam clouds up the mirror almost immediately. He brings a handful of water to his mouth, too thirsty to care that it's hot. The water that drips down his arm comes away pink with blood.

The ringing in his ears dies down enough for him to make out the sound around him: someone speaking.

“It must have hurt your heart to tie those two with the string of fate,” a woman says. “To doom two innocent people…”

Determining the source of the voice in his frenzied state is impossible: the noise is coming from all around him.

Mallory.

A flash of red out of the corner of his eye draws his attention. This is far different from the shadows; this feels too real.

She doesn't look the same as when he last saw her. She’s at least ten years younger, clad in jeans and a hoodie with their high school’s logo on the front. Slung over her shoulder is a backpack, decorated with an assortment of pins.

Is this part of her cursed technique? Or has she decided to haunt him from beyond the grave? Or is this Kenjaku's doing?

“I didn't-” James slurs. "They're not-"

Mallory’s shadow looms over him. Although she's only a foot from his face, he can't discern her features. Whether it’s blood loss, or his mind continuing to play tricks on him, he can't tell.

"It's such a shame," she says. "Jimmy,"

“Whitford,” someone calls from the doorway. Higaruma. “Who are you talking to?”

His tone isn't that of annoyance, or curiosity. James can't quite tell what his fellow sorcerer is thinking. And that bothers him.

The faucet squeaks as he twists it off. The last streams of pink-tinted water disappear down the drain.

“Nobody,” James says, “just myself. Don't worry about it.”

These past two weeks have seemed to age him ten years. James scratches at the stubble that's sprouted up around his chin, frowning. His cheeks have grown gaunt, eyes sunken deep into their sockets, lips chapped and dry. Several grey hairs dot along his temple.

“In 2006, you were under investigation for the death of your fellow classmate, Louis Rau, were you not?” He says. Higaruma must take James’ stunned silence as an affirmative, because he continues speaking. “Ultimately, the death of the student would be ruled an accidental overdose. But that accusation would remain on your records until well into adulthood.”

Higaruma speaks plainly, and calmly. Determining the sorcerer’s intent behind his words is impossible, but James doubts it's an accusation. And despite this lack of malicious intent, James finds himself angry.

James grips the edge of the sink so tightly that his knuckles turn purple. A mix of anger, and primal fear takes up space in his chest, right beside his heart. It's as if it's pressing against the organ, forcing it to beat faster. Silently, James decides if it's worth it or not to throw a punch. He knows it won't end well. In a fight against Higaruma, James is at a disadvantage in both strength, and cursed technique. A fist fight would only serve to weaken him further.

But it might make him feel better.

He figures the little energy he has left should be conserved. If not for defending his own life, then preventing another from taking it. James won't allow another sorcerer to have the fortune of earning points from him.

James, in a sudden bout of strength, turns to face his fellow sorcerer. Mallory stands only a few feet behind Higaruma, arms crossed, still wearing her school hoodie.

He knows logically she can't be there. The Mallory Park he knew died hours ago at his hand. This Mallory can't be any older than sixteen.

“Get out.” James says. “I’ll only ask you once.”

His threat holds very little weight. It wouldn't take much effort to shove him over and kill him with his own knife. Even young Itadori knows that.

Higaruma's expression softens, resembling something of pity. He has the look that one might give to an injured animal. That only seems to aggravate the man even more.

“My cursed technique allows me to see your criminal history, and I thought that was interesting. I meant no offense. That's all.” Higaruma says, holding up his hands.

Of all the things on his criminal record, James finds it odd that only that charge was brought up.

When James exits the bathroom, he finds the student nodding off in a chair. The sound of footsteps causes him to awake with a gasp. It must take him a moment to realize where he is, and in that moment, panic is visible in his expression.

"Itadori," James says, "I need to see your hand."

The student blinks a few times, rubbing his eyes. It's as if he’s trying to decide what stands before him is real or not.

“Your string of fate,” James motions to the student's hand, “since you’re tied to Fushiguro, you’ll lead us right to him.”

Itadori lets out a soft “oh”, before offering his hand out. The string of fate loops where it touches the ground, before disappearing through the door. James takes the string between his forefinger and thumb.

Slowly, the string begins to unravel under his touch.

Fushiguro Megumi. The characters linger in the air for a moment, before disappearing amongst the fog.

Fushiguro isn't far. Far enough that he can't pick up his soul, but he can trace it through the string of fate.

Itadori tugs on the string of fate. The red yarn tugs back.

“That way!” The student jabs his thumb over his shoulder. Northwest.

They're out the door in a matter of minutes, exiting onto an empty street, bidding a quick goodbye to Higaruma. It must be nearing sunrise now, as there’s enough natural lighting to allow some visibility. The rainwater that has collected on the ground has begun evaporating, making the air muggy, and miserable.

Like clockwork: every few feet, Itadori tugs on the string, and it tugs back.

The two must walk for twenty minutes before they come to a stop. Between the residuals that linger in the air, and the damage done to nearby buildings, it’s clear a fight has happened here. Recently.

The student stops suddenly enough for his shoes to skid upon the wet pavement. Itadori catches himself against a signpost—whatever it was advertising has long since worn off.

Before the man realizes what Itadori is about to do, the student opens his mouth, and cries out for his fellow student.

“Fushiguro!”

The noise makes both of them flinch. Anyone in the area would have heard him.

“Itadori- you can't-”

Yuji pauses for a moment, glancing back at James. He could stop the boy. He could grab onto his string of fate.

But James lets him go.

“Fushiguro!!”

The two round the street corner, onto the adjacent road. James understands why she’s called “Angel” the moment he registers the sight of her soul. Instead of being one of the fluffy-winged, halo-wearing angels often depicted in cartoons, she much resembles an angel in the biblical sense. The first thing he notices is the light. Then the heat. She’s bright enough that James struggles to look directly at her, with warmth radiating off of her like fire. Such a being doesn’t register in the sorcerer’s mind as human at first. A thousand eyes fall upon him. The wings that reach out behind her—nearly covering a full city block—appear at first to be made of light. Upon closer inspection, they prove to be made of cursed energy.

James throws his arms up to shield his face, but the light is so bright that it's like looking at an x-ray. His eyes are burning from behind his eyelids.

Laying on the pavement a few feet in front of her, is a figure curled up in the fetal position. A few feet in front of him, is something about the size of James' fist.

The prison realm.

#blood ties #jjk x reader #choso x reader #jjk manga spoilers #i forgot how to tag lol #i think im a couple chapters behind on the manga ngl #i stopped at like 199 i think??#choso #choso kamo #choso kamo x reader

8 notes · View notes

youryunju · 2 years

Text

I need a female/gen neutral name for a fic.

Leading guy is Zico.

If you have a name send it my way. I’m drawing a blank.

#Zico #Woo Zico #Zico fic #KOZ #block b #block b zico #grown ass kid #kpop #khh #i forgot how to tag lol

5 notes · View notes

ebonyheartnet · 4 months

Text

-Recording begins-

Spider-Man: Hi folks! I’d like to give a PSA to my usual villains, and anyone else with ideas for the next two months.

Spider-Man: *holds up a brick sized lump of metal* See this? It’s titanium!

Spider-Man: *starts flattening it out and shaping it*

Spider-Man: See, we all know that I’m crazy strong, but I never wanna really hurt anybody right? Right. While that hasn’t changed, something very important does right around this time of year.

Spider-Man: *pulls off a glove and pulls a chunk into a long stem with his nails carving lines for added texture*

Spider-Man: See, this is what we like to call exam season. Anybody who knows anything about college can tell you that it drives people up the wall, and I already climb mine when I’m antsy.

Spider-Man: *starts winding the thin sheet around the stem, delicately crimping petals in place*

Spider-Man: I do wanna be clear that this isn’t a threat, okay? I’m still not interested in crossing the line, which brings me to my point.

Spider-Man: *throws the titanium rose at the brick wall behind him, stem first, and embeds it all the way through*

Spider-Man: /That/ was restrained because I could focus enough to have full control. If I’m extremely tired or otherwise distracted, there’s just as much risk of me slipping up as someone operating heavy machinery. I’m probably not going to remember what sleep is for two whole months, so remember!

Spider-Man: *pulls out a brick and snaps it like a cookie*

Peter fucking Parker: Don’t.

#peter b parker #peter parker #ebony writes the thing #word girl #how tf did I forget to tag that smh #into the spider verse #also forgot to tag THAT ffs 🤦🏽#anyways. Miles and the other spider stumbled upon recordings of college!Peter B Parker. and uh.#this man is getting dragged across the multiverse lol. but he did in fact Ace his exams.

15K notes · View notes

finnykia · 1 year

Text

strong lady

big strong lady

I kiss her

#one piece #one piece oc #Nikk #I forgot how to tag LOL #my art

1 note · View note

jacenbren · 10 days

Text

Some actual canonical things that have happened in the children’s cartoon Ninjago: Masters of Spinjitzu

Emo theater kid manages to crawl out of hell thanks to pure spite and tries to murder his adoptive cousin

A main character becomes a tyrannical ruler of another realm for over a century while under the influence of mind control and commits acts of genocide (this is never brought up again)

The elderly mentor figure of the main cast gets de-aged into a baby and his students are left struggling to figure out how to change his diapers while fending off an attacking biker gang

An entire season’s worth of story gets wiped from existence after a main character is accidentally killed in an attempt to destroy an evil genie

A teenaged girl kills two different eldritch gods on two separate occasions

The devil from the Bible reincarnates as an evil computer virus and is later killed in a nuclear explosion set off by an autistic robot

The main characters enter a talent show to recover an ancient artifact which results in one of them coming out to his dad

A world-famous noodle restaurant chain is revealed to be a front for a cult whose leader puts on an elaborate tournament in an attempt to gain the power necessary to transform himself and his followers into snake people

A chicken with lightning powers terrorizes the main characters in their home for several days

A character dresses in drag in an attempt to uncover the identity of a vigilante that has been stealing the main cast’s thunder (he is wildly unsuccessful)

#anytime I think about this show I’m reminded of how batshit insane it is #feel free to add other notable incidents I forgot to mention in the tags lol #lego ninjago #ninjago masters of spinjitzu #ninjago

608 notes · View notes

lishenism · 11 months

Photo

꒰ jing yuan x afab reader / wc: 1.4k ꒱ : warnings include talks of marriage but uhhh i think that’s about it. this is mostly just banter between jing yuan and reader. or flirting. this is just literally how they flirt. also not proofread and never will be <3 and maybe ooc jing yuan but who’s to say. do we really know what he’s like when he’s in love *thinking emoji*

note: uhhh i know i said i wouldn’t write anything on this blog but the jing yuan brain rot has taken over me i fear... psd by ninetitans on deviantart :3c

“I hear that there have been talks concerning your marital status.”

You do not lift your face up from the chessboard, instead keeping your gaze solely on the pieces before you with your brows knitted together in deep concentration. There was no room for making mistakes. You must be meticulous and calculated with your decisions. With your pride weighing heavy above your head, you could not afford to admit defeat to him once more.

You’ve already lost four times. A fifth would be a bruise to your ego.

“I was not aware that the General liked to engage himself in rumours during his spare time.”

“Well,” he starts with a hum, raising his hand to pet the bird that landed on his shoulder with a gentle finger. “Only if said rumours are a matter of interest to me.”

Your attention is not swayed anywhere else but at the board, your mind silently rummaging for all the possible outcomes to turn this game around in your favour. You haven’t made a single move for seven minutes, choosing to exercise your patience before decidedly moving your piece. Jing Yuan does not mind. It only gives him all the more time to be with you.

(Which, of course, was his intention from the very beginning. Expertly orchestrating the scene from behind the lines to keep you all to himself, but he wisely chooses to withhold this bit of information from you. In any case, you will figure it out eventually as you always do, the clever little finch that you are.)

“Which includes affairs concerning my betrothal, I assume.”

“Naturally.”

And finally — finally — your eyes move up to find for his own. He offers you a gentle smile, his lips etched upwards in a way that has all the men and women alike sighing dreamily. If they weren’t too busy being intimidated by him, then they occupied themselves by admiring him from afar.

“Go on, then,” He presses. “Won’t you relieve an old man of his curiosity?”

You send him a sceptical look. If you didn’t know him any better, you would have assumed that his questioning stemmed from genuine interest. Which might have fooled you all those centuries ago, but you’ve come to understand him. You’ve become quite adept at reading the many faces of Jing Yuan, subtle as they are. And you’re not quite sure which irks you more: the fact that you know him well, or the fact that you feel proud of it. Few people can discern the thoughts in his mind, and even fewer who manage to get it right. But not you; never you.

He’s looking at you with a glint in his golden eyes that wordlessly requests for you to indulge him, despite already knowing the answer. He simply wants to hear the words from you without having to voice it himself because Aeon forbid he ask like any other normal human being would. That’d be no fun.

You sigh in defeat, relenting. Only to save yourself from the headache, otherwise he would continuously pester you until he got an answer. He can be persistent when he wants to be. You wish he’d been more persistent in finishing his papers instead, which still remain unattended on his large wooden desk.

“There have been discussions in passing,” you say. “And constant reminders that marriage should be a priority for me, but I’ve yet to find someone who is competent enough to even be considered. I’m known to be very demanding, you see.”

“I would not expect anything less,” The small finch flies off from his shoulder with a delightful chirp, now putting his hand down on his knees. You are decisive, that he is certain of. Once you’ve made up your mind, it is final — which is an admirable trait to have, of course, though he’s not quite fully convinced if you know what you truly want.

“It is a poor shame that you have not found someone that has met your required expectations,” He continues, feigning sympathy at the countless people you’ve rejected as if he had cared to begin with. As if he didn’t turn down the numerous proposals that he received from affluent families either. You hide a scoff from under your breath. “Though I imagine it would be quite the feat if someone did catch your eye.”

He urges for you to continue; to spill yourself in front of him and be caught vulnerable under his watchful eye. You aren’t in the least bit surprised — it has been a game between the two of you, the untamed cat and the flitting bird. He lures you in, but you keep yourself close and fly away before he snares you with his sharp teeth.

Very well. You’ll entertain him just this once.

“I suppose there is someone,” you say. And to the untrained eye, one might not have noticed the slight change of Jing Yuan’s posture — but you are not like others. You know him, and almost immediately, you caught the slight movement of his shoulders that suggested that you’ve caught his full attention.

“Oh?” More probing. He won’t stop until he gets something from you. “Do tell.”

“Ah, but you must know, General, that he is hardly ideal,” You smooth out your silken robes, placing both hands nearly on your lap as he watches you from the other side of the table.

“He is an exception then,” Jing Yuan muses. “To your long list of demands, that is.”

“That is not to say that this man does not have his faults,” You counter back, and you swore you saw the slightest twitch of his smile lifting up. “He is far too leisurely for my own liking, for one. He neglects certain duties that he ought to be doing.”

“Troublesome, to be sure.”

“Most certainly,” you sighed. “He speaks in riddles which only drives me mad. He’s hardly ever upfront about what goes on in his mind, and—”

One of his eyebrows raise, his body leaning slightly forward, “And?”

“—And he just lost a game of chess.”

He remains silent for a moment that lasts only by a split second — blinking once, twice, and then thrice before lowering his head down to inspect the board before him. He skims the pieces laid out in front of him with half amusement and half confusion, and it takes him quite some time to register that he did, in fact, lose.

Your smile is bright and proud, with your satisfaction and pride seeping off of you. It is awfully contagious and he can’t help but return a smile of his own, eyes closed in silent acknowledgement at your recent win. He offers you a word of congratulation, which you soak in with delight and bliss because if there is one thing that brightens up your day, it is his seal of approval. It isn’t everyday that the great general of Luofu loses, after all.

You’ll have to commemorate this day into your memory. He’ll never hear the end of it.

“I think it’s best that I get going now,” You lift yourself up on your two feet, smoothing out the wrinkles that formed on your clothing. “Politicians to entertain, dinners to host… You understand how busy it can get.”

“You’ve given me a most invigorating game,” He stands up not long after you, offering his arm to steady yourself as you quickly fix your appearance before excusing yourself to a long day of festivities. “I must thank you for indulging me.”

“It wouldn’t sit right with me if I left an old man such as yourself all by his lonesome,” You reason, but he knows you just as well as you know him. He can easily spot a lie on your lips when he hears one.

You make your way towards the door, with him following beside you to escort you out. Back then, you would have insisted that it was unnecessary — you were perfectly capable of seeing yourself out on your own, to which he replied with: ‘Of course. But I’d like to stay close to you before I send you on your way, if you’ll allow me.’ You stopped insisting him after that.

Your hand is only a few centimetres away from reaching the door knob before putting yourself into a brusque halt, body twisting to look at him. “Oh, and General?”

“Yes?”

Something warm is placed on the centre of his palm, his bright eyes gazing down to inspect it before his eyes settle on the familiar material laid on his hand. A chess piece. His chess piece, to be exact. But you spare him no time for a response — you flash him a teasing smile, just as bright as the one you spared him on your win — and leave the room without saying another word, the door closing behind you with a click.

Jing Yuan chuckles, tucking the chess piece in his robes.

Clever little finch, indeed.

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #jingyuan x reader #hsr jing yuan #i forgot how troublesome it was to put tags idk what else to put lol #lishenism: personal

2K notes · View notes

mmm-bbaq · 1 year

Text

i wanted to draw team t.i.e.s. wearing ties and next thing i knew i drew them as that one weezer album cover????

i was originally gonna do proper lineart for it but. lazy. so slightly cleaned sketch it is ^^

#my art #limited life smp #limited life spoilers #tango #tangotek #impulsesv #etho #ethoslab #skizzleman #i forgot how much i hate tagging group art lol #tag soup

2K notes · View notes

midnightectosnack · 5 months

Text

Ecto-Implosion 2023

Happy to finally show my piece for the @ecto-implosion!

I was playing Hades a lot when I signed up which left me itching to read a crossover between these guys, and this was the result on my end ^.^

My partner for the event was @half-deadmagicperson and she did an amazing job crafting a story with these characters! The story is up on AO3 and you can read it here: How Danny Broke His Favorite Star Projector. It's an incredible feeling to read something inspired by your art, and more so in this case since Magic put everything I asked for and much more in it! 💚

I'm so happy to have decided to join in another DP event, a big shout-out to everyone who also participated and a huge thank you to the mods for hosting!

#i decided to go with watercolor pencils this time and learned so much in the process #lots of do's and dont's that I'll apply better next time especially in terms of knowing when to stop layering stuff ahajakkajak #the pencil strokes look so pretty irl wish it showed better through the pic #might do a digital version if i have time during the holidays but we'll see lol #ectoimplosion2023 #danny phantom #fic: how danny broke his favorite star projector #dpxhades #small edit bc i forgot the crossover tag lmao

337 notes · View notes

snailvee · 9 months

Text

chris and leon have worked in the same field for a very long time. they've both seen unspeakable horrors and fought for their lives more times than they can count.

what chris tends to forget is that he was prepared for this, at least more than leon was. he'd been in the military, was part of a specialized unit, understood what he was getting into.

leon did not.

chris had experience, had time to get used to the violence even if he hadn't faced B.O.W.'s yet. leon was fresh out of the academy and didn't even get to be shown around the station.

it's easy to forget when they're in the field, when chris is watching leon fire off shot after shot with ease, concentrated and calculating. but away from the fight, when the pinch between leon's brows smooths out his expression melts into exhaustion, chris remembers.

he remembers reading the kennedy report before he even met leon, the pang he felt in his chest as he read over the hell this man had been through at just 21.

he remembers seeing leon go from a rookie to a capable soldier, remembers how after each mission his eyes seemed a little less bright, a little less hopeful.

he remembers recognizing leon when he didn't remember anything at all.

he tries not to think about it too much, at least not on the job and definitely not in front of leon himself. he'd slipped up once, and leon immediately caught on to the downturn of his mouth, the way he got quiet and seemed to try and make himself smaller. of course leon questioned him about it, but chris brushed him off until he stopped asking. he didn't want leon to think chris though of him as weak, that's not what this was about.

this was about chris mourning something that was ripped away. this was about chris wishing leon had a normal first day, that they met at the RPD station, that they were coworkers and friends and maybe something more without the burden of the horrors that surrounded them.

it's about wishing that leon had it easier. that he didn't have to go through all this. they could've had a normal fucking life, together.

it's mostly about leon. but chris is a little greedy, so it's about him too.

#writevee #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #chris redfield #chreon #i feel like it counts enough to be tagged #i was gonna end this differently but then i forgot how i wanted to end it lol

490 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs