#[ † ] ;; YOUR BLOOD IS INK AND YOUR LIFE RUNS IN PICTURES. (headcanon.)

[apostlc-a]

The Walrider as a parasite & how it affects a host’s perception of the world.

The Walrider is a parasitic lifeform. A subform that gives it some symbiotic characteristics, but still a parasite that will, inevitably, damage their host beyond repair and then pick a new one. The swarm primarily feeds on corpses and other humans every couple of weeks (circles range between six to nine), they also constantly feed to a lesser amount on their host; especially in the first bounding phase while they make the body suitable for them to live in. And while they can reconstruct their host body with resources taken from other food sources, they will rebuilt it in a way that is suitable for their means and not always right. Not always quite human; and it means specifically that parts of the brain get reconstructed. They mainly locate around the anterior insular cortex area which is responsible for empathy; they will however rarely affect this area and patients with a damaged anterior insular cortex have found to be unable to bound with the Walrider and instead experience extreme violent outbursts.

Them reconstructing and changing the brain has a list of various effects; the host goes through a personality change that might differ from host to host; for some, it's rarely notable. They do all suffer from episodes of severe pain; sometimes located, sometimes signals coming in from nearly every nerve strain reporting. Nausea and seizures aren't uncommon; neither are spells of extreme dizziness and a lack of focus up to hallucinations of various kinds. Over time, memory also seems to decline as previous synapsis connections get unmade.

Following from that, there seems to be a shift in perceiving the world. This affects mainly auditory and visual inputs; people that have come in contact with the Walrider report of hearing 'static' in which they believe to make out words. They communicate via manipulating electrons inside the brain to receive certain inputs. A host might be certain to hear them speaking in a way that seems closer to how one thinks than actually hears someone else. Hearing either static or the buzzing of the swarm — or 'the sound of electricity' — appears to be constant and only vary in it's intensity. However, they also 'hear the voices of the dead', namely victims of the swarm. Likely the cause are misinterpreted signals and guilt, but it is also of interest to state that they often know of things that should be impossible for them to be informed about, so maybe some information of previous victims gets rewritten into the new synapse connections.

The visual perception of the world differs extremely from someone unaffected. The two most common effects seem to be firstly a 'too sharp' impression, usually paired with heavy headaches or migraines and an inability or lack of want to interact with the surroundings as things seem 'too real'; potentially a different depth perception. Secondly, on the other end of the spectrum  differentiating the world mainly in colors and brightness. The range of color seems to extend into being able to see ultraviolet light as well as a fourth receptor next to the three unaffected humans possess (red, blue, green). Additional, the color vision is much faster which makes it easier to distinguish details; something found in bees which makes them quick to tell individual flowers and petals apart where a human eye might struggle, especially in motion. This 'flickering' of color signals does actually make them perceive things in motion easier than stationary ones. Furthermore, there seems to be a literal flickering effect over their vision at times.

#[ † ] ;; YOUR BLOOD IS INK AND YOUR LIFE RUNS IN PICTURES. (headcanon.) #[ † ] ;; YOU'VE SENT ME AN APOSTLE. (meta.) #idk why i wrote this half as scientific research #but i think it fits #also as a chemist i tried to make this AS SCIENTIFIC SOUND AS I POSSIBLY CAN #there is SOME pseudo science - mainly the fourth color receptor! - #but i tried to keep it as close to something that would actually exist as i can make an eldritch parasite #also i know way too much about how bee eyes work now bc thats what i based a lot of it on

[upshuring]

what's a cute headcanon you have that you haven't shared yet?

headcanon | always accepting

     Given how much he always talks, one would think his love language is also verbal, but it's not. Sure, he does tell the people in his life they are important, but... with different words. He doesn't want to seem overbearing and it's easier for him to show than tell. So it's much rather acts of service and small gifts — one day it's bringing you something from the bakery because he remembered you mentioned in passing liking it and you probably haven't eaten yet; sometimes it's recording your favorite show that he pretends he doesn't care about but knows you will be sad if you missed it, sometimes it's taking up tasks you don't wanna do.

     It's maybe not the most obvious one, but it's easiest for him to show. He's still using words of affirmation, just less — and a lot of casual touches whenever he's comfortable around one. He will constantly be up in your personal space.

#quietswarm #ok ok heres a genuine nice one #[ † ] ;; YOU HAVE [1] UNREAD EMAIL. (asks.) #[ † ] ;; YOUR BLOOD IS INK AND YOUR LIFE RUNS IN PICTURES. (headcanon.)

[godworn]

also this doesn’t go into the big post bc it’s a very specific thing and not a direct effect but: it’s usually extremely obvious by speech pattern whether miles or the swarm is currently in charge. unless he’s in Serious Reporter Mode ™ and suppresses it, miles has a heavy accent, slurs the words together, generally trips over his tongue, while the swarm... pronounces things a bit too clearly, there’s no random pause in between when miles would struggle because he can only remember the word in his mother tongue, but it’s overall a little more slow, without much intonation. robotic, almost. 

#i had this somewhere on one of the old blogs but im #lazy and dont wanna search for it #[ † ] ;; YOUR BLOOD IS INK AND YOUR LIFE RUNS IN PICTURES. (headcanon.)

[senju-sekhmet]

The Leash (Part 8)

Summary: Your rescue was supposed to be as smooth as these missions can be. However very quickly, Tobirama faces off against an enemy that has no form, color or smell - and time is running short, very fast. Unless he figures out what truly holds you hostage, your life will be lost. Warnings (for the finished work): Blood, illness, descriptions of heavy injuries and graphic violence, torture (both depicted and implied), needles, morally grey territory, human experimentation, panic attacks, character death, angst with a happy ending ~6200 words (this chapter, finished work: 80.000) Previous: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6; Part 7 Read on AO3!   Disclaimer below the cut! Updated again, yAAAY!!

DISCLAIMER! Next part of the split! a bit longer. and not as soon as I hoped, gosh dangerit. But! Hopefully I’ll get the next one out a lot quicker. This chapter is a little bit special as I tried to incorporate something of a real intensive care take into what is happening as well as my own... ideas about how they'd deal with it all. Let me know what you think! Other than that: enjoy my very self indulgent work, filled with my own headcanons and angst galore. Let me know what you think and thank you so much for reading!!!! ______ It took him a moment to get his bearings again. Hashirama’s back was turned towards him, he was sitting in a chair by your side. The setting sun’s red light illuminated the room in warm hues Tobirama might have appreciated were it not for the sheer sense of dread he felt budding inside of him. The dreary exhaustion was swept away as he stepped closer slowly. Peripherally he picked up a weak pulse of chakra with sensor skills - nothing uncommon for him if he came close enough to a source. Usually he had to actively tap into his sensory skills in order to pick anything up, but if the signal was strong enough, it almost forced itself upon him. Right now, it most likely was your body. As Tobirama rounded the bed he saw your face: pale - paler than before, he was sure - and sweaty. You were taking shallow, hushed breaths while the odd whimper escaped your lips every now and then. Truth be told, Tobirama only remembered you trashing and writhing the last time the withdrawal had set in - now, you simply squirmed, sometimes.

Your expression was far from peaceful though. It was a grimace of sheer pain. Jaw taut, a frown etched onto your forehead and the eyes so tightly, your skin was in wrinkles.

Hashirama was holding your hand, his eyes were closed. An epitome of calmness next to your misery. Tobirama didn’t want to disturb his concentration lest he’d cause you even more torment so for a moment, he stood by the other side of the bed, helplessly witnessing your suffering. The dread had become the painfully familiar constriction of his chest again, every beat of his heart stabbed as he could only let his shoulders hang low.

It was wrong. He should never have agreed to let you suffer like this. The promise you had him make was a hollow echo in his ears. You probably wouldn’t want him to berate himself like this. But how couldn’t he? How couldn't he, when this was the result of the decision? Of course, the cruel logic behind this was clear to him - painfully so.

But if these past few days had been anything but logical every so often.

Hashirama cleared his throat, slowly. “Tobirama,” he greeted, quietly. He didn’t open his eyes.

Tobirama jumped at the opportunity. “How is she?”, he demanded swiftly, keeping his voice low but making no effort to stow back on the urgency.

Hashirama didn’t respond directly, which only served to irritate Tobirama slightly. “It’s difficult,” he began finally, “Initially we were able to stave off the brunt of the withdrawal by sealing her chakra away,” Tobirama’s blood near froze in his veins, his eyes widened slightly, “But it’s been picking up since. Her blood pressure has been dropping and I’ve been noticing signs of inflammation primarily along her blood vessels but also the heart and lungs." He paused momentarily, uttering a hum of ponder. "The reaction overall is similar to sepsis at this point. Likely the body trying to clear out the leash physically now that her chakra can't interact with it anymore.”

Tobirama couldn’t help himself now. He had to know - to see - with a fine tremor in his hand and a raspy breath he took a step closer to grasp the blanket that covered you and pull it lower, very slowly. As lightly as he could. You stirred as the cloth moved, a feeble shudder of your weak body, but no more. On your chest he could already make out the ink markings of the chakra seal on your bare chest. The sight stole alone his breath momentarily. He violently swallowed down the lump in his throat.

He had believed seeing you weak, tortured, a shadow of your former self - that was one of the worst parts about all of this - he had been wrong.

This. This was worse. It all painted a new horrible picture for what it implied.

There were more seals on your glistening skin - both of your arms and your heart, each of them with a parchment in their center that had been soaked in herbs whose smell each he knew well. Tobirama recognized these: one was stabilising your cardiovascular system both through the seal’s effect itself but also by letting the herbal agent be applied transdermally. The fact you already bore it - the Ione on your heart to make it pump stronger - was a grim sign. The other two were strong pain and sedation medications. Were anyone other than his brother here, he’d probably have refused to wait any longer with the next dose.

He pulled the blanket back up again and crossed his arms in front of his chest as if that helped to reinforce his broken, guilty resolve about all this. “Tell me more,” he requested firmly, eyes never leaving your gaunt face now. This is the only way, he kept telling himself.

“Mito and I drew the chakra seal. It is temporary and can be opened and closed, I’ll show you later. When Y/n gets the next dose and is in her lucid phase, we can open it again for her comfort,” Hashirama consoled quickly. Whether or not he had taken note of what Tobirama had done, he didn’t care right now. It was a slight relief. Maybe you hadn’t felt any of it. Maybe.

“She’s rather still, anija,” Tobirama whispered, now with more worry and firmness. "You sedated her?"

His brother hummed affirmatively. “We … were forced to, indeed.” The hesitance was clear in his tone.

“I see.” Tobirama’s in turn was grave. His next question he blurted out before he was even sure whether he wanted to know the answer. Who was he kidding? Of course he did. “I surmise otherwise, she wouldn’t be still enough to be monitored like this,” to put it lightly. He didn’t have the stomach right now to utter: Otherwise you’d be screaming from the top of your lungs and writhing like you were on fire.

Just like the last time you had been in withdrawal.

Just like the prisoners had explained.

Hashirama appeared to be grateful for Tobirama’s rare show of more neutral words. “You are correct.” The admission didn’t hurt any less for it.

“What about the other seals?” Tobirama demanded then, though of course Hashirama would know that Tobirama was aware of what they did. What he really wanted to know was how bad off you were. For all Tobirama knew, you might be carrying more of those already.

“I was forced to draw these a bit ago as the physical symptoms started to kick in worse again,” he replied evenly. “I first tried oral medication, but the effect was too weak. And administering it was ineffective.”

By ineffective, he meant impossible. You probably quite violently refused anything. Tobirama’s eyes widened slightly at the implication though. It meant your condition was worse enough that without these seals - the seal on your heart to support your cardiovascular system, really - you’d most likely be teetering on the brink of death than life. His hands bunched the fabric of his black shirt. “Exactly how much support does she need right now?” he demanded now, still not daring to step closer.

Hashirama gave a low sigh, but still did not open his eyes nor move his hand from yours. “It’s bearable. Due to the seal, the disruption is impairing her dormant chakra only, but it is not fighting back of course. The symptoms are being caused by her body’s physical reaction which we’re controlling with the medication and the other seals, for now. I’m simply monitoring. It’s just the three seals, Tobirama.”

He was not calmed down at all. “Still, you’ve already been forced to draw this to improve her cardiovascular situation.” Tobirama stated flatly, the neutral kindness gone. He started to paint a pretty dismal picture of your situation without even having examined you already.

Hashirama noticed, too. “And we can still increase the support of these seals. The fever is being kept in check, and while I admit her body is reacting physically, for now it is mostly symptomatic of the withdrawal rather than an actual damaging inflammatory reaction. I’d wager we even have a little bit more time before we have to give her the next dose of the leash.”

It should have served to put him at ease. And yet - “As if that should be our only concern,” Tobirama shot back, voice suddenly caustic. Your pained grimace was testament to the fact you were walking through hell once more and here he was, deliberating how long he could prolong it.

His stomach roiled as his breathing became jittery again. He had to close his eyes lest his brother witnessed his possibly glistening eyes; or at the very least the obvious pain in his glance. It wasn't as though he wanted to hide it - he just needed to be alone with it.

Hashirama was a very understanding person, after all.

And because of that he picked up on it nonetheless. “Y/n wanted this, brother.” It was all he said. Tobirama didn’t want to hear anything, anyway. There was nothing anyone could say about all of this.

Another concern hit him then, distancing himself quickly from the biting cynicism that rose up inside of him. “What about the amount of chakra overload? The seals will aggravate that,” he subconsciously stepped closer, more and more wishing to just see for himself how you really fared. Nonetheless his tone was demanding again.

“That is correct,” Hashirama agreed quickly, but calmly. “And I won’t lie, we are pushing the limit here. But given our options, it is the safest route. It is manageable right now however.”

Tobirama frowned and wondered if he truly did agree with that statement. Following blindly - even his brother’s no doubt superior medical expertise - just wasn’t in him. Especially when it concerned you. “Overload symptoms would be similar to what she is experiencing now, though," he countered tersely.

Hashirama inhaled deeply. “Which is why we’ll need to continue to watch carefully, even after she gets the dose. It’s not a perfect solution, but so far it’s working. If it happens to become too intense, then we know to cut the interval shorter again to lessen the needed seals.”

The words caused a sudden surge of ire through his dismal demeanor. All of this sounded more like experimentation rather than a real course of action. Not that his brother could know any better, but it still didn’t make him appreciate it any more. He forcibly took deep breaths in order to not snap again, but the ire was a welcome distraction from the utter despair that had taken over.

Hashirama opened his eyes then finally and his dark eyes gave him a warm glance. Tobirama instantly frowned, concerned it may hamper with his focus - but before he could speak, his brother did. “Take a seat, look for yourself. I know you want to.”

He didn’t have to say it twice. Tobirama grabbed one of the chairs swiftly and placed it on the other side of your bed, taking a seat then. Gingerly, he took your hand in his and closed his eyes to let his chakra meet your network and begin to examine you.

It was a mess. The first thing he noticed was the complete absence of a chakra flow - it was frozen in its tracks. And while before there certainly had been the many injuries you had yet to properly recover from, now there was a war raging in your body. Manageable. That was the word Hashirama had used. Tobirama himself would not go beyond that, if even. There was hardly a part of yourself not affected by all this; anywhere he looked he found signs of inflammation, microscopic injury in the tissue that was attacked, torn down and at the same time, rebuilt. The picture was similar to sepsis, as his brother had said indeed: your own body’s reaction to the leash was, ultimately, killing you. The leash itself seemed to cause damage on its own, but it was minor compared to the damages your own body was doing to yourself by trying to fend it off. At this point it was just a matter of time until that got too bad. After all, it already had begun to cause a capillary leak on a scale that required outward support to keep your blood pressure up. Your heart rate was elevated for compensation, and your organs each showed signs of damage due to said leak as well as the inflammation itself.

His focus needed to be extremely sharp to even make out traces of the leash in the rush of your frantically beating heart - intense scrutiny that surely wouldn’t go unnoticed by you. He withdrew quickly. Tobirama knew the leash would be latched - branded, almost - to your blood at this point. That easily explained why no part of your body was spared - just like in a real sepsis. Though he noticed the heart and lungs seemed to be affected more, too, as Hashirama had mentioned - examining them closer, he found the reaction here was particularly bad. Your lungs, as the extremely thin tissue of the alveoles were extremely affected by this - again, just like in sepsis. It was a matter of time until breathing problems would ensure. Your heart, as it strained to fight for a stable blood pressure while being inadequately perfused, suffering tissue damage on a microscopic scale, for now. At the very least, this might affect you immediately - but Tobirama found none of these damages couldn’t be healed, either.

Just not now.

Frankly, he hadn’t expected to feel better after this, exactly. However to witness the battle that was going on inside of you - one you were losing, ultimately, always - it added a new dimension to the sorrow and heartache he was feeling. Even though right now he felt the hum of the seals that had been painted on you and their effects - strengthening you - he felt nothing but helplessness to bear witness to your suffer firsthand and do nothing but to figure out how to prolong it. It didn’t just hurt his heart - it wrenched it around, tore at it. He didn’t want to do this.

Promise me.

He had promised you.

With a broken sigh, he withdrew and slumped back in the chair, eyes on your gaunt, pained face. His vision was blurry.

“Tobirama,” Hashirama’s voice startled him. With this dismal sight and the lingering extortion from his shadow clone stunt, which his body certainly had not forgotten, concentration was becoming touch and go as his thoughts circled in dark places. “The sedative will begin to wear off, soon. For the next dose, I’d rather she be more awake to ensure she can swallow it properly.”

Tobirama closed his eyes and already knew how this would go down. Another one for the list of things he’ll have a hard time forgiving himself. But he had to. He had to. Slowly, he rubbed a palm over his face. “Very well,” he replied, seeing reason in this too, of course.

They sat in silence for another two hours, almost. During the time, your writhing had picked up slowly - from a flex of your legs’ or arms’ muscles to weak movement. Slowly but surely sounds were picking up too - huffs or grunts at first, but later on there were quiet groans and incoherent mumbles mixed in. You never opened your eyes. Hashirama ended up increasing the heart’s seal’s intensity somewhat, all of which Tobirama watched while he monitored you diligently. He felt absolutely crushed in every sense - physically, emotionally, mentally. But sleep never came to his mind. The least he could do was be here with you, even if you might not notice it. But if anything were to happen - he’d be here. He’d sleep when you did. A little. And then continue to work once his condition allowed it again.

“It’s time,” Hashirama announced finally. “Her blood pressure has been sinking continuously and the damage that is caused by the withdrawal ultimately is becoming too intense now. I don’t want to push her beyond this.”

What a relief. Tobirama already had procured the next dose of the leash previously. Administering it now wouldn’t be as simple as the last times, however. With a heavy sigh, he rose to his feet, as did Hashirama.

“Y/n,” Tobirama spoke softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Can you hear me?” It was worth a try. Though he had little hope for it.

And he was right. Your reaction was lackluster, only a low groan as your head trashed to the other side.

“I’ll open her jaw,” Tobirama instructed his brother, numb now. Devoid of any emotion but to simply do this swiftly. “Hold her head.” Hashirama nodded and already seized each side of it with his hands, which you responded to by uttering yet another tormented moan.

Tobirama’s heart was hammering in his chest again - at this point he had just waited for that to happen, and his breathing was nearly as raspy as yours when he took another step closer to seize your jaw in the dreadfully familiar way again. Once more utter horror overcame him for having to do this to you. It grew worse when he felt how you were trying to trash your head to the side, but your movement was pitiful at best. “It’ll be better soon, Y/n, I promise,” he whispered brokenly, though he knew you couldn’t hear him.

Tobirama was tormented by how easy, compared to last time, the pressure behind your mandibular bone made it protrude, enabling him to shift the grip slightly to force your mouth more open with his thumb on your chin. A shiver ran down his spine. The hand that held the vial containing the leash shook slightly. You protested louder in what definitely was an even more painful groan, a sweaty, trembling hand reaching for Tobirama’s on your jaw. “Don’t,” he pleaded instantly, desperately.

Don’t make it worse.

Swiftly, he poured the leash into your mouth and shut it quickly before you had a chance to cough it back up. With pressure on your cricoid, the constriction of your airway was forcing you to swallow it before the breathing trouble became too uncomfortable. It was brutal, Tobirama knew. But it was the safest way to ensure you really drank all of this. Immediately, he and Hashirama withdrew from you.

You stilled completely.

Time for the next act of this nightmare, whose end was approaching way too fast and yet not fast enough.

_______

As per usual, Tobirama ensured you’d sleep for the terrible psychotropic effects of the drug. However Hashirama noted it was better to use a sedative this time, as they needed to avoid any use of chakra on your strained body for now. He agreed reluctantly - by this point he knew it couldn’t interfere with the leash’s effect, in any way. Besides, Hashirama also stated he needed to monitor you further - especially watch for signs of chakra overload as well as controlling the seals. Likely, your cardiovascular situation will improve enough to be stable on your own.

Tobirama nearly shouted at his brother when he used the word ‘likely’. If he thought it was just likely then they had gone too far. And just as likely Tobirama felt like smacking his brother for sheer stupidity right then. He didn’t of course, ultimately and begrudgingly yielded to his brother's expertise. However it didn't stop him from sternly reminding him about how fragile and susceptible your mind was due to every sensation heightened -

"Be careful," he warned, rather, threatened. "Do not agonize her unnecessarily."

Hashirama rolled his eyes. "I'm doing what I have to. No more and no less, brother." Despite everything, he remained calm.

It provided little comfort, but he saw no option but to add it to the list of necessary things they had to do to you. Tobirama’s frustration was palpable at this point.

Nonetheless, all of this just showed it was time to rest, as much as he hated it. Sleep was inconvenient, but needed alas. And once more he found himself at your shared home, alone. Luckily enough, the exhaustion was great enough to claim him quickly after he had laid down, but the forlorn feeling was seeping through every crack. With every passing day, this house felt colder and lonelier. The burden he carried strained him to a point where numbness was spreading inside of him. He felt spent, at the end of his wits. His sleep was dead, dreamless.

And a little longer than he wanted it to be. He woke again with a startle - his gaze sought out the clock mounted on the wall right away. It was somewhat past midnight. Damn. You should be awake by now. He rubbed a hand over his face to wipe away the last traces of sleep before he washed himself, got dressed and teleported to your room right away.

_______

The withdrawal was one of the worst things you had ever gone through. It easily was on par with some of the torture you had suffered.

It had begun as you remembered it - you became weaker with each passing minute. Then came the dizziness. Your consciousness slipped in and out. An ache settled into your bones, your muscles, your nerves, that was all too familiar - dim, at first, but it increased more and more. It wasn’t long before it felt like molten lava rolled through your veins, alongside your nerves, through your lungs with every breath you took - you were being burned out from the inside slowly, cruelly. Split apart and yet not dying.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to writhe away, shake it off, rip your skin off, do anything - but you couldn’t. Something held you suspended in darkness with proverbial chains winding around you tightly, everything else was black nothingness. Nobody to hear your screams, nobody aware of your agony - all by yourself in a hell that wasn’t ending. At first, you were trying to tell yourself this was what you wanted: you had to give Tobirama - yourself - more time. Otherwise they’d run out of this damn murder drug before they could recreate it. But this? This wasn’t worth living, was it?

Had the chains around you not seized your throat, you’d have begged for someone to kill you. End your misery.

I’m sorry, Tobirama.

Forgive me.

You circled around these two sentences over and over again while the torture wasn’t ending.

Peripherally, you had been aware - at first, when the withdrawal had begun to set in - of someone’s chakra inside of you - Hashirama, you realised, dimly. It had made sense. Tobirama would need to work. Try as much as you wanted to, but you couldn’t work around the dizziness and the pain that had been roaring through your systems at that point already. And just as lightly you realised something was done to you - but no more you could distinguish what it was. It eased the pain, somewhat. Briefly. You wanted to thank him yet couldn’t form words; either it was exhaustion or another side effect of the withdrawal. Were it not for your dreary state you knew you’d be overrun by panic due to the helplessness. You simply had to trust those around you.

But that had gone out of the window piece by piece as the symptoms became worse and worse. You felt your grip on yourself losing as pain became your only reality.

Suddenly though, it was all over. The pain was gone as though it had never existed. You nearly screamed in joy.

And another terribly familiar sensation kicked in.

The nightmares.

They had given you the next dose of the leash - you had lived, you dimly realised. Part of you wanted to cheer, but of course you wouldn’t get to do that. With all you had just gone through, this time around, the bizarre horror trips you suffered from during the first phase of the leash would gladly take inspiration from now.

But the usually crystal clear scenarios were muddled images at best - red hot iron being pressed into your flesh agonisingly slowly. Darkness, loneliness. It still was frightening - but not as precise as it usually was. Perhaps the leash had done permanent damage to your brain. Who knew. In a twisted, grotesque way you were thankful.

Your perception of pain had become extremely skewed.

Someone else was lingering, though. A presence. They were watching you - you knew - and you didn’t like it. Nothing came from them, but you knew better than that. Presences like this greatly unnerved you. It couldn’t mean anything good.

Soon, you, the nightmares, everything - faded into dull sensations only. After that, a warm nothingness overtook you and you finally were allowed to sleep.

When you opened your eyes again, the room was dimly lit by the nightstand’s lamp. Someone was touching your hand - you turned your head slightly to find Hashirama next to you. Still, you had blink several times before you truly recognized him; truth be told you felt like a giant rock had rolled over you. Distantly you were aware of the fact he was monitoring you - his chakra was but a shadow in your system, so light, almost unnoticeable. Something else was bothering you though - but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Missing - something was missing. Quickly, you realised what it was: your chakra. You couldn’t feel your chakra at all - the sluggish, tardy sensation it had become was gone.

Instantly, panic settled in and your breathing picked up. “I- I can’t,” you began, voice raspy. Moving your jaw was as though you had to force it through jelly or something equally gooey, the muscle wouldn’t quite obey you. But that didn’t matter. Your chakra - where was your chakra? You wanted to get up, but your arms wouldn’t obey you - your pulse picked up rapidly and breathing was getting difficult again.

Hashirama shook his head, “We had to seal it off, don’t worry,” he explained swiftly, already pulling the blanket down with his free hand. In utter horror you noticed there were seals drawn not just on your chest but your arms as well. Your heartbeat was through the roof by now as your panicked gaze kept looking everywhere. He put his thumb, index and middle finger right on your sternum where the center of what you recognized belatedly was a rather complex chakra seal was located. His fingertips glowed for a moment, then he twisted his wrist.

A second later, your beloved, useless chakra was back.

You gulped and swallowed past the lump in your throat, trying to even out your breaths again. He put the blanket back over you again and regarded you with a smile, though you could easily tell his warm gaze was burdened with worry. Unlike Tobirama, Hashirama wore his moods on his sleeve. “How are you feeling?”

You blinked a couple times again, still reeling from the sudden burst of panic. Then, after a deep breath, “I’ve… been better.” To put it lightly.

He frowned sympathetically. “No doubt about it.”

You didn’t want to wait any longer. “How long… how long did we gain?”, you desperately hoped this exercise had been worth something. At all.

His smile became more mirthful. “Six hours.”

Your eyes widened slightly. Frankly, you were unsure if you should be happy or horrified by that. To you, it had felt like an eternity. And yet six hours was a huge gain on what the interval had been before. A good result. The suffering - had been worth something. Your gaze wandered to the ceiling, nodding to yourself slowly. Trying to convince yourself of this at least.

“Y/n,” Hashirama began again, now more somberly. “I won’t lie to you. I don’t know how long we can keep this up. It took a toll on you, which I am sure you are feeling right now.”

“You can say that again,” you croaked weakly, yet again testing the movement in your legs. Your toes wiggled a little. It was an achievement. Then you sighed and in what pretty much was a snap decision, you spoke up again. “Promise not to tell Tobirama,” you muttered, already feeling guilt taking a stab at your heart.

Hashirama’s frown deepened. “Promise.”

“The withdrawal is… All of this - it’s about one of the worst things I’ve ever gone through.” you shared, no more than a mere, haunted whisper. You couldn’t look at Hashirama. “And by now, I think I’ve experienced a lot.”

Hashirama hummed deeply.

“I don’t want Tobirama to know that. He will refuse to keep stretching the interval, b-but-”

“You wanted to say it.” Hashirama finished your sentence before your voice broke. “It’s alright.” He squeezed your hand lightly. “I’d wager he knows, truth be told.”

A sob broke past your tightly squeezed lips, but you nodded. Of course he’d know. You couldn’t imagine him not checking in while all of it had happened. Most likely some of your plight had gone through to the outside. And the first withdrawal had been a harrowing experience for all of them.

“You’re stable, though,” he spoke up again in a less grieved tone. “It’s no surprise you’re feeling rather weak right now. The withdrawal is quite… violent towards the body.”

“So long as it’s worth… as it’s worth all this,” you gulped, nodding. To yourself, mostly.

Hashirama smiled warmly again. “The time gained is invaluable. I’m afraid we can’t do much to heal you, yet, though.”

Just as you wanted to reply you witnessed a flicker in the shadows near the door. That had stopped startling you a long time ago - well, when you weren’t in the middle of a breakdown, that is. You couldn’t help but smile with how Tobirama lurched over instantly. His white hair was tousled, glistening even - he must've fallen out of bed into the bathroom and then teleported right over. A quaint sight - the man was punctual, sharp and kept in perfect shape.

Hashirama regarded him with raised eyebrows as he stood by the other side of your bed, mustering you through narrowly-lidded eyes with a distressed expression. He already took a breath to speak up, but you beat him to it with a quip that’d surely answer his question. “That’s fine Hashirama, I won’t be able to get up either way and Tobirama won’t need to lecture me about moving too much anymore.”

Tobirama shut his mouth immediately and scrunched his face like he had just been forced to drink some extremely bitter tea and regarded you with a look as if you had been the one to make said tea. Already, he crossed his arms. For a hot second, you worried you had gone too far - doing this in a high stress situation like this always carried a risk. But Tobirama knew you. And you knew him.

“You’re doing better.” He simply stated then, unimpressed, just raising an eyebrow.

Hashirama raised his arm to hide his face with his sleeve slightly as a chuckle shook him.

Tobirama’s hawk-like stare shot to his brother briefly before it settled back on you. “Enlighten me with some context, maybe?”, he then demanded, only slightly exasperated. He was holding back, you knew.

“I just explained the toll the withdrawal has taken on Y/n to her,” Hashirama supplied, having regained his composure again.

Tobirama regarded him with a concerned look then instantly, dropping the unnerved demeanour. “Toll?”

“Exhaustion mostly, Tobirama,” you decided to intervene before he worked himself up more. The way he gripped his black shirt again was telltale. “I can’t do more than wiggle my toes. And my fingers, maybe.” You tentatively tried it out - they stretched just fine. “What a relief,” you murmured ironically.

Tobirama’s frown grew softer again as he watched you test your limits and the corners of his mouth turned down slightly. “Y/n,” he whispered, and you could feel how much more he wanted to say.

Hashirama cleared his throat again. “We’ve painted four seals on you, in total,” he spoke up again, catching your attention immediately as he then explained how they strengthened your heart and blood pressure. “Now that you’re awake again I’ve brought down the support from them to a very low level because you’re doing so well. The exhaustion is from the immediate reaction mostly. I won’t deny, you did suffer damages there - but none of them great enough to warrant additional concern.” His gaze wandered to his brother while he spoke, well aware he was listening just as intently. If not more. Tobirama’s frown had deepened again.

You nodded. Medical jutsu were really not your forte, but you did know quite a handful of seals and could already guess as to how these worked. Which also told you they had been scraping the proverbial barrel here: normally, these things would be easily managed using chakra based methods, normally. “I surmise you’re using seals because I’m constantly teetering on the edge of chakra overload still with how I keep getting additional… problems…”

Tobirama snorted. “Some of which you wouldn’t have if you rested.” Hashirama chuckled again, this time at your expense. You took it in stride. Tobirama continued then. “You’re right though. We must avoid it as much as possible.” Hashirama nodded to that.

“Ultimately, should your condition worsen during withdrawal, we’ll have to overstep that boundary. But I’m very much trying to avoid it. It’s additional stress you don’t need right now.” He did sound quite serious about it. You gulped. Chakra overload was nothing to sneeze at.

But then again you felt like you had just about dipped into every kind of torment available as of now. What’s one more?

Hashirama ended his monitoring then and gently slipped away, both inwardly and outwardly. “I’ll get some rest now. You’re stable. And while I know Tobirama is very, ah, adamant about this-”

“Anija,” the growl came instantly.

“-you really need to get as much rest as you can. We’ll see to support you more using any non-chakra based means which is going to entail some medications. I’ll… see you soon again,” he finished with a sorrowful smile that managed to soothe you and at the same time filled you with dread.

You swallowed. “Thank you, Hashirama.”

He nodded and left the room quietly.

Tobirama sat down on the side of your bed as soon as he had shut the door, taking your hand in his and stroking your skin gently with his thumb. “How are you really doing, Y/n?”, he inquired, the timbre of his voice gentle enough to let his concern truly show.

You gave him a brave smile. “I’ll manage, Tobi,” that, you knew. You knew you had to. Though you felt like breaking into tears when you said it.

You didn’t fool him for one second. His breath caught momentarily; his grip became firmer and you felt his chakra graze over your network, covering it warmly. You couldn’t help but sigh contently when he did; the sensation never failed to comfort you. But his expression remained distraught, to say the least. He knew you well enough - what your avoidant answer meant. It was kindness not to inquire further. And maybe protection, too. You didn’t want to speak more about this. Or think of it.

It’d come around again soon enough.

“You’re not taking good care of yourself,” you chided then softly. “I’d ruffle your obviously wet hair, but I can’t right now.” You cracked a weak smile.

He clicked his tongue. “It’s been a pretty intense day, Y/n,” he countered evenly.

“I think I can count the days you left the house in such a hurry on one hand, Tobi,” you replied, not bothering to keep the sorrow down any longer. It saddened you to see how all this took its toll on him - your problems, your condition. Of course you’d do the same for him in a heartbeat - and just as well, you were aware what your sight made him feel. But it just hurt.

His eyebrow arched up again slowly. “When I’ve got such urgent business to tend to, I will run the risk of being seen with wet hair, but I’ll face it bravely,” he countered sarcastically, eliciting a little chuckle from you. There was no changing his mind anyway. His lips drew into a lopsided smile of his own, too.

Finally, you sighed quietly. “Don’t let me keep you, then.” You dreaded being alone. But it couldn’t be helped.

His smile faded and his eyebrows furrowed again. “I can stay, Y/n.”

“No, you can’t,” you replied with more resolve, “Because then all the time we gained won’t matter. Soon. Just a bit longer.” You weren’t sure if you were telling him or yourself that.

He must’ve picked up on it, because his other hand grasped your arm too and stroked over your skin gently while his gaze had turned decidedly sorrowful. “I’ll be back soon to check on you,” he promised quietly, but you could guess on the fierceness behind that. It eased your budding sense of dread, somewhat.

“Thank you,” you whispered, “Can you…,” you swallowed, blinking. The request made you feel so silly - shameful, even. But you couldn’t help it.

He tilted his head when you didn’t finish your sentence. “Yes…?”

“Can you please leave the light on? And… don’t close the curtains,” you finally whimpered meekly, avoiding eye-contact now. This alone was a confession to what you could only perceive as weakness due to your recent trauma, but you couldn’t deny how much you needed it right now.

Tobirama’s mien turned more sorrowful, but he nodded. “Of course, Y/n.” He sat on the side of the bed a moment longer and simply shared your connection - a gesture you were immeasurably grateful for. It was you who ultimately nodded and decided it was time he left - despite the ungodly hour.

“C’mon, then.” You tried another brave smile. _____ author’s notes: Some explanations: 'cardiovascular' means pertaining to the heart and the blood vessels, i.e. blood pressure and essentially keeping the body's organs supplied with nutrients, and more immediately important, oxygen. 'sepsis' is a real thing! it's when the body's own immune system causes such a strong reaction in the whole body to an infection it starts to damage its own organs. since reader isn't infected, it's 'like' sepsis. there are also real life complications of different diseases that can, in fact, cause a sepsis-like condition! 'capillary leak' is something that ties in directly to sepsis. because of the body's immune response, the blood vessels start to 'leak' fluids into surrounding tissue. every had an infected  body part? splinter in your toe, hand? got red, big, swollen? well, that's the same thing. it's not good when the body does it everywhere! but it does make sense because by 'opening' the capillaries, the white blood cells can get out and do their job in the tissue. hooo boy, that was a lot more than i ever thought i'd explain, oopz. thank you so much for reading as always!!!

#tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader #sekhmet writes

[trnquilgalileo]

Soulmate headcanons!

Ten x Wandering translator! Reader

(whatever you write shows up on your soulmate skin)

- when ten was five the first words on his skin from his soulmate was « bonjour, comment ça va? »

- he looked at the funny words on his leg and poked it.

- because when ten is curious about something he gets really close and in its face, backs away and gets close once more

- kinda like a cat

- he then proceeded to cry to his mom who scolded him and told the little boy it was just in French

- French. The fuck is French?

- Ten never responded.

- Four years later he’s nine. He’s wiser, older and more willing to kick his six year old sister in the face

- that and he now goes to an international school in Thailand to study not only acrobatics and dance,

- but art.

- And if you know any art kids, one thing they love to do is draw on their skin.

- Day to day he draws little squiggles, animals and plants in his skin.

- The bright coloured markers contrasting greatly to the point where his father scolds him

- Telling him he’ll get ink poisoning

- Ever the wiser he rolls his eyes and continues to doodle

- So when he picks up a bright red pen to mark his arm once more he’s treated with a cruddy drawn flower that’s in an obnoxious orange with a messy Aloha next to it

- That has to be the worse thing he’s ever seen

- So he scribbles it out

- Ten is 12

- Twelve, bratty but twelve nonetheless

- Ten hates being twelve

- Now he has more school and more work and not enough time to dance and do the other things he wants

- Over the years more and more messages from his soulmate pop up but he can’t read them

- And when 12 year ten sees something he doesn’t understand,

- He ignores it

- And life continued soulmate-less

- But this only worsened ten’s mood.

- Why does his little sister get to jump for joy when some loser named Yangyang happens to fall and break his motherfucking wrist

- Get knocked out by anesthesia and visit her in her dreams

- Fucking Yangyang.

- So no, ten did not enjoy being 12

- Ten has red hair put up in some atrocious red spike, he just sang a Justin Bieber song and got accepted into SM Entertainment

- This is best moment in his life

- Except...

- Hes lonely.

- By the age of 17 everyone around ten had at least made some form of contact with their soulmate

- And the Pisces in him longs to see his soulmates words on his skin once more

- so when he had another mental break down in the middle of the SM basement

- curled into a little ball because he couldn’t get this one move right because of his stupid knee injury

- that needed another knee surgery that he was sure he didn’t need

- and he was loosing hope of ever making his debut

- because no matter how hard he worked

- his blood, sweat and tears were not enough for the company who only continued to push

- so when he spotted the little, messy squiggles of a grocery list in Spanish

- It brought him the breath of fresh air he needed

- the tiny scripted letters so smooth in his skin that he stretched out towards his phone and took a picture

- because even though his soulmate didn’t know it yet

- these small words had stopped him for breaking even more

- Ten was 22 when he tattooed his first script onto his arm

- it was in the inside of his bicep, tucked away where it wouldn’t be noticed

- Only if you really looked.

- it said j’taime in what he assumes would be his soulmates handwriting

- he had once again picked up his little habit of drawing on his skin which allowed his soulmate to pick up their own sparkly pink ink and scribble back

- because after 22 years he had finally answered,

- after 22 years he had the world in the palm in hand

- except he had no one to share it with

- until you answered

- So when ten walked out with a bandaged arm he grinned silently to himself before pulling up the black mask to cover his identity

- later that night a similar tattoo appeared on the side of his left ring finger

- “ฉัน คิดถึง คุณ”

- (I miss you)

- Ten is now 24,

- he’s considered ancient, wise and a bit of brat by Kun

- (Oh and he met YangYang too)

- (He approves...silently)

- the world is ending and he hasn’t officially met his soulmate

- hasn’t told them he loves them to their face, kiss their pretty lips, caress their hands gently and lean in close to blow in their ear

- only to run away cackling

- but anyways it’s his turn fo go in and hand in lyrics for the new WAYV album

- he’s walking down the hallway, head up in the clouds, pushing the buttons on the elevator to go up only to hear a hurried shout

- He turns around and spots then most ethereal as it could get person, the pink curve of their mouth, the arch of their brow to the way their skin glowed

- but behind them was you. looking lost but in tens hazy vision filled with fluffy clouds and shinning stars

- he knows it’s you, the way you feel in his presence, the comfort, the warmth

- ...the love...

- Ten moves out of the elevator and waits till you stop talking to the head translator of SM and let’s you bow before leaving.

- he watches as you step out of the glass panelled room and straight into his line of vision.

- You approach the elevator where he stood

- where ten, with all his courage whispers low enough just for you to catch it.

- “Bonjour...comment ça va?”

#ten nct #chittaphon scenarios #wayv #nct 2020 #nct u imagines #wayv chittaphon #ten #soulmarks #soulmate #headcanon #wayv fluff #chittaphon leechaiyapornkul #nct ten #ten x reader

[spnfanficpond]

Pond Diving - Imagineteamfreewill

Welcome to today’s Pond Diving Spotlight! We hope that you enjoy this little insight to our members and perhaps even find some useful tips for your own writing. Happy reading!

Want to volunteer, send us an ask! We’re looking forward to learning more about all of you! Not sure what PD is, you can learn more here.

“Don’t Be Koi About It” - All About You

Name: Meg

Age: 20s

Location: United States

URL: @imagineteamfreewill

Why did you choose your URL: I first started out structuring my stories as imagines, and the “Team Free Will” part was pretty obvious.

What inspired you to become a writer: Reading Supernatural fanfiction inspired me to get back into writing, but I’ve always enjoyed it. My mom likes to talk about how when I was in Kindergarten, I drew a picture about how I wanted to be an author and now I write in my free time.

How long have you been writing: According to tumblr, I’ve been writing fanfiction since 2014, but I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember.

What do you do when you are not writing i.e. Job/Hobbies etc? I’m a music teacher, so I sing and play piano, and I’ve played a bit of cello and tenor saxophone as well. I love movies, baking, sleeping, and a few video games.

How long have you been in the SPN Fandom? I joined sometime around Season 8 or 9, I think. I don’t really remember!

Are you in any other fandoms and do you write for them? I really enjoy Marvel and I’ve read a lot of Marvel fics, but I don’t write for them. I like a lot of TV shows (New Girl, Parks and Rec, The Good Place, Outlander, etc), but I wouldn’t consider myself part of the fandom.

Do you do any writing outside of fanfiction? If so, tell us about it? I love to write poetry. I had a poetry blog at truenorth-ink a while ago, but I haven’t updated it recently at all. Most of my poems aren’t published or posted anywhere.

Favorite published author: I love some of the early series by Rick Riordan and I also really enjoy poetry by Nikita Gill and Atticus. Lately, I've really been getting into Leigh Bardugo's books.

Have you ever read a book that made an impact on your life? Which one and why?: I think "East" by Edith Pattou really affected me! I read it when I was in 6th-8th grade and I think about it often. I think it's something that really stuck with me and got me interested in fantasy books so much. I read it at least once a year.

Favorite genre of fanfic (smut, angst, fluff, crack, rpf, etc): I love angsty stuff, and most of the time I prefer it when it has some fluff mixed in. Straight fluff is often hard for me to read because I need something that’s more realistic for my own life and point of view. I also really like whump, but that can be a lot sometimes so it depends on my mood.

Favorite piece of your own writing: I don’t know if I have a favorite, but I loved writing Back to the Start (my mermaid series) and The Switch (a canon-divergent apocalyptic Reader x Sam series). Right now, I'm really enjoying my Consort series (a Goddess!Reader x Dean series). Creating my own rules in my own little universes is one of my favorite things to do, especially since I can’t always do whatever I want in real life.

Most underrated fic you have written: Empire. I loved getting to write Boyking!Sam because it was so different from my normal Sam stories and I did a lot of research for it. I’m pretty proud that the story never got too bloody or gory, too, so if you want some Boyking!Sam that’s not drenched in blood (for lack of a better term), I’m your girl!

Story of yours that you’d most like to see turned into a movie/tv show: Probably Back to the Start or The Switch. I think those two series would be amazing to see with J2, the rest of the cast/characters I included, and special effects! There’s so much I’d want to explore with both of them that I didn’t put into the series.

Favorite Tumblr Writer(s): @luci-in-trenchcoats, @sunlightdances, @supernaturalfreewill, @lipstickandwhiskey, @smol-and-grumpy, @percywinchester27, and @kaz2y5-imagines

Favorite fic from another writer:  I don’t think I could pick just one, but I’ve read all of @sunlightdances Dean fics multiple times. Her works got me through some pretty sucky times in my life and I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of her writing! I’ve also been reading her Bucky fics recently and it’s made me love Marvel fics even more than before!​

Favorite character to write: Sam Winchester

Favorite Pairing to write: Reader x Sam (Reader x Dean is a close second)

Least favorite character to write (and why): I don’t like to write for Crowley or Gabriel. Gadreel is hard for me even though I can do it, but I don’t understand Crowley or Gabriel’s personalities at all because they’re literally so far away from mine.

Do you have anyone you consider a mentor? No, although @lipstickandwhiskey and @kaz2y5-imagines really encouraged me in my writing!​

Do you have any aspirations involving your writing? I would love to write a non-Supernatural work of fiction to publish, but that’s a long way off.

How many work-in-progress stories do you have: Oh Lord, I have so many! I have at least four series and two one shots in the works right now. I've also got over 100 one shots/series plotlines written out in the notes on my phone and various Google Docs.

What are you currently working on? I’m currently working on a Cinderella series, my Underworld series, my Puer Rex series, my Consort series, an Author!Sam fic, and an Author!Dean fic. I also write stories for my Words series now and again.

“Pond Diving” - All About The Writing

What/who has had the biggest influence on your writing? Reading other people’s work. The intense storylines of @luci-in-trenchcoats ’s fics have gotten me to be more bold with my writing and the emotions and description in @supernaturalfreewill’s works have inspired me to let my work have more feeling.

Best writing advice you've been given: Not necessarily writing advice, but I was once told that anything worth doing is worth doing at least a little bit every day. Think about it—if you wrote even just five minutes a day, how much better will you get over the course of a month? A year?

Biggest obstacle you’ve faced in your writing: Repetition of words and commas. So many commas and so many uses of the same word over and over again. It’s a hard balance between using the word and using synonyms without sounding like I’m sitting there googling synonyms for “said”. I also tend to spend a lot of time on things that I think are super important but aren’t really important in the long run. I’m wordy as hell and my writing would be dull if I didn’t edit it as thoroughly as I do.

What aspects of writing do you find difficult when you write fanfiction? A lot of times I have these ideas that I think would make a great series but I don’t think through them, so planning out the plot of a series (or even a standalone fic) beforehand is something I struggle with.

Is there anything you want to write but are afraid to (and why): I would love to write more fics that have the characters dealing with severe mental disorders or that take place in a mental hospital, but I’m afraid that I’ll portray something wrong and solidify harmful stereotypes about what it’s like to deal with those things.

What inspires/motivates you to write: Honestly, just wanting to write things that I enjoy. Sometimes I get sick of reading other peoples’ stuff since it’s not exactly what I want, so I just write my own!

How do you deal with self doubt: Understand that sometimes it happens. You’ll doubt yourself—everybody does. If I’m doubting myself or my writing, I’ll take a break until I remember why I write. Then I’ll remember that yeah, writing for an audience is fun, but I write because I have cool ideas I want to explore, not because I need the attention or love of strangers. Lastly, I’ll reread my old fics, especially the ones I love, and then I’ll go back and edit old fics that I haven’t looked at in a while. That way I can see how I’ve improved and I don’t feel so terrible anymore! Reading my own fics is a bit of a guilty pleasure of mine, and I’ll read through my masterlists every once a while just to remind myself of the things I’ve loved, where I’ve been, and where I’m going.

How do you deal with writer's block: Like I said, I reread old fics and edit old fics that I haven’t looked at in a while. Seeing the things I’ve done before always helps to focus me. I’ll also read other people’s stuff or talk about headcanons with some friends to try and find some inspiration.

Do you plan/outline your story before you start: Lately I have been, but only because my periods of intense inspiration and productivity are getting farther and farther apart because of my job. I’ve found planning it out to be more and more helpful, especially for my series. A lot of times if I get a great idea, I’ll outline the whole plot or any significant details I want to put in that one shot/series so that I can come back to it whenever I have the time or I’m inspired for it again.

Do you have any weird writing habits: I write best in places that are unfamiliar to me or in places/times where I shouldn’t be writing. Class? Writing. Airport terminal? Writing. 4am when I have to be up at 6? Writing.

Have you ever received hateful comments on your fic and how do you deal with it? Not that I remember! I feel like there’s probably been one or two over the years, but I probably just got upset about it with my friends for a while and then got over it.

Conversely: what’s been some of your favorite feedback on your fanfic? A long time ago, when I was writing Back to the Start, I had one person who sent me asks for every single series update. I screenshotted them and saved them on my laptop. There’s one particular one where they say that they’re happier because of my writing and honestly, isn’t that what we all strive for? That people’s lives are better because of our stories? I’ve also had some pretty great friends recently who’ve made it a point to reblog and send asks/messages on all my works, which has been so meaningful that I never replied to the asks. They’re sitting in my inbox and I go through and reread them sometimes when I’m feeling down.

If you could give one piece of advice to a new and/or struggling writer, what would it be?  ​Write down everything. If you come up with an amazing piece of dialogue, even if it’s just one sentence or one person talking, or if you come up with something you’d think would be a great title… WRITE IT DOWN. It doesn’t matter if it fits into whatever you’re currently writing or not, it’ll come in handy! I don’t know how many times I’ve gone through my idea list and found really obscure lines/titles/inspiration that didn’t make sense when I wrote them down, but are now exactly what I need to finish a fic. Even if you don’t end up using it, jotting down your ideas is still writing, and that’s good practice!

#pond diving #spnfanficpond

[starwhispcrs]

3. which muse is the trickiest to get into character for? & 13. what’s a weird headcanon you have for each of your muses?

@itsacriime // multimuse asks !!

3. which muse is the trickiest to get into character for?

it's a tie between aoyun and kyungmin !! out of the four who are currently aware, those two are the most cosmic. aoyun is especially difficult to get into his mindset solely because of the way he talks, which is confusing and vague more than it isn't. kyungmin gives me a run for my money when getting into his mindset too, if only because, while he speaks more like every day people, he treads a very fine line between cosmicness and humanness that i try to portray in his actions and thoughts and reactions.

13. what's a weird headcanon you have for each of your muses?

gonna throw these under a read more to save space !

JIWON is the only one to remember every single past life ! he is completely unaware that he’s the only one to remember, but he hopes these memories help more than they hinder.

YOUNGSOO got his tattoo while tipsy ! he knows getting inked while under the influence of alcohol is bad because blood thinning and all that, but it was the only way he could sit still long enough to get it.

JUNSEO is oddly passionate about mixed drinks - as in, if drunk enough, he can and will go on a tirade about how certain mixers don't go as well with certain alcohols, and how he can definitely be a bartender who does it right.

AOYUN dreams of the other twelve ! he doesn’t realize that those dreams are about his kin spread across the globe, thinks they’re memories of their lives before or wishful dreams of them meeting again.

HOJIN can recite the entirety of some studio ghibli films by heart ! though he doesn’t drink except for social events and celebrations, get a couple in him and you’ll find him quoting those movies !

KYUNGMIN is self taught in cooking ! every recipe he has perfected was through his own trial and error, his own determination to perfect it. it’s a hobby not many people are aware of, as it’s one of his subtler ways of showing love and appreciation for people.

HOSUNG can’t drive ! equal parts because he grew up a rich kid with a personal chauffeur, and equal parts because, by the time he truly became independent, his chronic night terrors were so bad that he didn’t trust himself behind the wheel.

DAEHO yearns for the simplicity and awe from before ! when he first became aware, it was something exciting, amazing, unreal. now, because he is terribly alone separated from the others, he thinks it a damnation and a crutch more than anything.

MINJUN is ridiculously good at shadow puppets & voice mimicry ! he spent his free time in the orphanage entertaining himself, as he was rarely asked to be seen by potential parents, and those are two hobbies he taught himself.

CHUNYU is always bruised up ! when he’s really in his element, taking countless pictures, he loses awareness and spatial perception, to the point he’ll start bumping into every little thing and only become aware of it when the bruises start hurting.

KWANGSU actually really loves amusement parks and rollercoasters ! something about being in a socially acceptable situation where he can scream his head off without being judged is... very cathartic.

HYUNJUN has a shellfish allergy ! which he only learned because a friend in high school brought bugs to try. that was the wildest way to learn he can't eat shellfish - and yes, he will still try to eat some shellfish.

INSU has a mobile game that he’s been playing for two years now ! it’s one of those turn-based, fantasy rpgs, and it’s one of the little things in his life that he allows himself to enjoy.

#itsacriime #➤ ᵐᵘᶰ ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳ ┊ ❛ i’ve got all the answers ; except not really ❜ #thank u v much for these !!!

[angelicspaceprince]

Photographs

Author:  Ama

Title: Photographs

Pairing: Established Beetlejuice/Reader, friends Beetlejuice and Lydia

Character/s: Beetlejuice, Lydia.

Word Count: 1, 814 words

Warnings: Mentions of yellow fever and death, possible historical inaccuracies, Beetleboi being a sad boi.

Tags:  @justballoonfishthings, @beetlejuicecansteponme, @yankyo, @beetlebitchywitch, @scribblepigeon, @trelaney, @kyuubinu, @imma-fucking-nerd (some I tagged bc I wanted you to suffer with me, others bc I’ve been ranting about this to you guys all morning, enjoy!)

Summary: Lydia finds a box at Beetlejuice’s house, not realising that what it contains is an emotional subject for her friend. He goes through each item in the box and explains the history of the person the images are centered around.

Notes: Two fics within hours of each other? What magic is this? Also, I hit you with cuteness, and now I hit you with sad. Suffer.

So, I’ve fallen in love with a song that Alex Brightman sings from the 35mm musical called Cut You A Piece and it gives me tears every time I hear it so here. Have a fic loosely based on it.

Basically, the Beetlejuice I’m using is Musical!Juice but stuff like Lydia visiting his house in the Netherworld is more from the cartoon. You were alive in the 1850s. There are mentions of yellow fever and death in this fic. It’s pretty sad, if people want a happy ending hmu and I’ll try and scrounge something together. I also based the hair colours off dreammbc’s mood ring hair headcanons found here. Takes place after the musical, Beej disappeared for about a year before returning to hang out with his best friends and everyone in the Deetz house are fine with him sue me I want a happy family ending. Female reader, soz all. Enjoy!

Buy Me a Coffee

Photographs

Beetlejuice hadn’t thought of you in the better part of sixty years. Possibly longer. It was too hard to think about you and what happened. He didn’t like crying or feeling broken, but after everything that happened? He just broke down whenever he thought of you.

So, when Lydia brought up the box in the living room that remained firmly shut, the sudden onset of emotions that attacked him was enough for Lydia to decide to get out.

He was never good with emotions.

It took a couple of days before he calmed down, his hair slowly having blue and yellow slowly streaking into it compared to the pitch black it had been since Lydia brought up the box. It took another day for him to sheepishly return to the Deetz’s to apologise, box in hand.

He apologised for scaring her (he didn’t) and that he just needed his space (she knows) but if she really wanted to know what was in the box, he could show her now.

The curious teen tentatively took the box from him and opened it up. Inside were a few, old looking photos of a woman dressed in what appears to be just an everyday dress from the mid 1800’s and a very clean looking Beetlejuice dressed in similarly aged attire. Both of you were laughing and smiling, holding onto each other, clearly very much in love. Beneath all five of the photos was what clearly used to be a pressed rose, although it looked a little beyond dead at this point, and two silver rings, one larger than the other. Lydia carefully held each object as Beetlejuice looks down at them next to her, clearly in another world as he just watches her go over every single item. “Who was she?” She finally asks, pointing to the woman in the picture.

“Y/N.” He breaths out, a small smile appearing on his lips as he takes the photo, the last one the two of you took together before-. “She was my fiancé.” He explains softly as he thumbs over your laughing face at whatever bad joke, he had told you right before the photo was taken. “Well, nearly.” Lydia looks over at the photos again, it’s clear in every single one Beetlejuice is absolutely smitten. She turns over the top photo in the pile on her lap, in green ink and swirled writing she makes out the caption. ‘June 6th, 1852. Beetlejuice and Y/N, New York. Pretty sure the photographer was over us by the end.’

“How did you meet?” She doesn’t look up from the pile in her lap, continuing to turn over each photo to reach the written message on the back. She didn’t notice the fond smile and his mood ring hair slowly turning to a pastel green.

“Her friends summoned me as a joke.” He starts. “19th century was filled with people who wanted to communicate with the dead, her friends didn’t think that anything would happen but then I showed up and they all booked it. She thought I was hysterical so she kept me around. About a year later, she asked me to court her and so we started dating.” He starts to fidget and fiddle, putting the photo back in the box so he doesn’t ruin it with the anxiety that’s running through his body. The last thing he wants to do is crinkle the photos or, God/Satan forbid, rip it. “We dated for about three years, those photos were for our first anniversary. She didn’t believe in the whole getting married thing, we were already living together and that was enough for her. Bit unconventional for the time, but that was my Y/N.” His smile widens slightly when the happy memories start to wash over him. “Was always there if I needed help scaring someone, always there to bounce ideas. Couldn’t stand the fact that I was filthy all the time, so I took to bathing for her which was a big deal for both of us. She had a higher standard of cleanliness than most people back then. Couldn’t dance to save herself though. Not wearing those dresses, she kept tripping over the skirts.”

Lydia listens to every word, letting Beetlejuice more or less spill his heart out. Neither of them are into heart-to-hearts, but its pretty evident that this time around, its what her friend needs. She listens as he lists off every single thing he loved about her and the things that frustrated him about her, every tiny detail she loved about life and the things she hated, what she loved about him and what caused her to want to beat him with a stick. It was like all of a sudden, he could remember every detail that he had thought he had forgotten, and if he didn’t voice them, they’d be gone. By the end of it, his hair was streaked with faint blue with his pastel green, voice was wobbly, and eyes wear close to shedding tears. Lydia knew that he had to get it out of his system and, even though it made her uncomfortable, she wanted to give him permission to just let it out.

“What happened to her?” Her voice is gentle and encouraging as he clears his throat, not really wanting to tell her how your relationship ended, but needing to nonetheless.

“She died.” He quietly admits. “Yellow fever, there was an outbreak around 1853, 1855. She was one of the last ones to die.” He swallowed before continuing. “I thought something was wrong, but she insisted it was just a cold. She was so hot, couldn’t even stand to hear me walk across the floor to get her something to drink. Couldn’t eat she was so tired, but she was in so much pain she couldn’t sleep. So, she just cried and held on to me to keep her cool.” Beetlejuice closed his eyes, already seeing her face resurfacing in his mind. “It was after three days of pain she started to puke her guts up. Three days after that, she was vomiting blood. Two days after that, she started going yellow. She kept saying that she didn’t want to go to hospital but when she started to go yellow in her eyes and her skin looked like she had been rolling around in the yellow dye vat at her work, I just stood up and carried her there myself.” He swallows. “I should have taken her there sooner, by the time we got her there she was already too close to death. I stayed with her in that hospital, helped her drink whatever little water I could and let her sleep with me keeping her cool. She just continued to go yellow. There was so much blood, Lyds, I never thought a breather could produce so much.” He needs to breath, the smell of the hospital refilling his nose was getting to be too much for him. “Eventually, she just slept. She slept for another week before she died in my arms. And that was the end of that.” He retakes the photo from before and flips it over, in his messy and almost illegible handwriting he reread the words he’d written there over a hundred years ago in the same green ink. ‘Marry me?’ “I should have taken her to the hospital sooner, but I thought she’d know best. She was still a breather, I hadn’t been alive for centuries by that point, I thought perhaps I was overreacting because I was excited. I found out about the clause, if you marry a breather you become one too. I was going to propose to her and explain that we could have an actual relationship together and die together, be a bit more normal. I never got that chance.” In anger, he throws the photo back down as he slams back onto Lydia’s bed. It’s only now that she realises his hair is streaked in almost every colour of the rainbow as conflicting emotions hit him from left, right and centre. She gives him a minute before slowly packing everything away.

“Did you look for her?” She hears him nod against the mattress, his eyes still pressed firmly shut as he tries his best to cry silently.

“Spent nearly a hundred years looking through the Netherworld tryna find her. Spent a bit of time looking up here too. No luck. She’s gone, babes. You will never find what you’re looking for in the Nether, so there’s no point in looking.” He cracks open an eye to look at the box now sitting between him and the goth teen and sighs. “I try not to think of her, it hurts too much. But wherever I go, she comes too.”

Lydia hums. She gets it, to a degree. It hurts every single time she thinks of her mother, how sick she got and how quick she had died. But she still needed to think of her, she’d rather face the pain than forget her mother. And she also knows what it feels like when wherever you go, you feel like you’re carrying that person with you. “Perhaps it’s what you need? It hurts but you still have all your good memories.” He hums, not really agreeing or disagreeing. “It sounds like you cut her a piece of you, and she cut you a piece of her. You carry her now and I think she carries you too, Beej.”

Beetlejuice doesn’t make a sound, but he did hear her. It takes a while for his emotions to slowly simmer down to background noise and once it does, he simply sits up, grabs the box and shuts it away, leaving everything as it was before he opened it. Perhaps one day, he will be able to open the box without hurting and perhaps, one day, he will run into you again. Perhaps it’ll work out for him in the long run. But for now, he’d rather not think about it.

“Let’s go scare your dad kid, I’ve been letting him relax for too long now.” The demon offers as a distraction. Lydia, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t let him get away that easy. But she’s willing to let this one slide as the two of them leave the room to go plot a way to give Charles the fright of his life, leaving the box on the bed unattended, unseen, as it opens, and a sixth photograph appears on top of the pile. Of a very sickly-looking woman sleeping in the arms of a very stressed demon sleeping in a hospital bed surrounded by other sick people. On the back, the words simply say ‘Wherever you go, I’ll go too. I lost my life when I lost you.’ You can wait for him to be ready to find you again, however long it takes.

#ama writes #ama's stuff #tag this as beetleb*bes and I'll cry #Beetlejuice the Musical #Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice The Animated Series #Beetlejuice (1988) #Betelgeuse #Beetlejuice headcanons #beetlejuice the musical headcanons #headcanons #betelgeuse headcanons #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice/reader #betelgeuse/reader #betelgeuse x reader #beetlejuice x reader headcanons #beetlejuice/reader headcanons

[aristotlefms]

GREETINGS  ,  angel  .   i  am  praying  that  the  graphic  doesn’t  look  horrible  but  if  it  does  ?   please  pretend  it  doesnt   .   for  those  i  haven’t  gotten  a  chance  to  introduce  myself  to  ,  im  gianna  ╱   gi  .   im  nineteen  and  well   ?   absolute  trash  .   asdj  .  im  so  excited  for  this  group  and  even  more  excited  to  bring  you  your  scarlet  ,  aristotle  wolff  .   random  headcanons  and  more  about  his  background  has  been  on  my  mind  for  days  and  im  just  so  excited  to  share  them  all  with  you  ...  hopefully  it’ll  get  him  to  leave  me  alone  asdfg  .  i  did  write  this  at  4  in  the  morning  so  ???  if  it’s  gross  that’s  why  .   enough  rambling  though  ,  below  the  cut  you’ll  find  everything  you  need  to  know  about  him  ..  ENJOY  .

                       STATS .  here  ,  please  read  for  the  basics .  

                      PINTEREST .  here .

                      CHARACTER  INFLUENCES .  lip  gallagher  ,  charlie  st  cloud  ,   daemon  black  ,   hardin  scott  .  

                       SOUNDTRACK .  numb  to  the  feeling  ,  chase  atlantic  .  faith  ,  the  weeknd  .  feel  ,  phora  .  i  fall  apart  ,  post  malone  .  she  wonders  why  ,  astrus  .  gang  over  luv  ,  brent  faiyaz  .  wicked  games  ,  the  weeknd  .  ivy  ,  frank  ocean  .  gangstas  ,  pop  smoke  .  demons  and  angels  ,  a  boogie  wit  da  hoodie  .  

                                                                 AESTHETICS .

  pearly  whites  concealing  sad  hues  ,   collar  bones  painted  with  hikceys  ,  a  destined  path  carved  by  hands  that  are  not  his  own  ,  a  contagious  laughter  floating  in  the  night  sky  ,   the  memory  of  emerald  hues  haunting  his  dreams  ,  the  lingering  taste  of  bitter  whiskey  ,   calloused  digits  against  soft  skin  ,   footsteps  against  hardwood  floor  in  the  dead  of  the  night  ,  a  tattoo  needle  against  his  skin  whispering  he’s  alive  over  and  over  again  ,   a  soft  scent  of  cologne  and  cigarette  smoke  clinging  to  his  clothes  ,   abandoned  promises  that  weigh  heavy  on  his  shoulders  ,  moans  spilling  of  pleasure  coming  from  the  backseat  of  an  expensive  car  ,    black  rimmed  sunglasses  to  hide  bloodshot  hues  ,  his  heart  beating  in  his  ears  ,   a  never  ending  grief  . 

DOING  EVERYTHING  I  CAN  TO  FEEL  SOMETHING  .

CARELESS  ,      how  many  times  have  you  heard  that  ari  ?     i’d  tell  you  to  count  on  your  fingers  ,    but  you  might  run  out   .   enlighten  me  ,  disagree  .   tell  me  you’re  just  CURIOUS  .    what  ?  i  know  your  LOUD  MOUTH  is  resisting  the  urge  .  i  know  you  want  to  say  that  your  honeyed  hues  always  reflected  a  world  full  of  not  sorrow  ,  but  infinite  opportunities    .   possibilities  and  limits  without  boundaries  .    boundaries  you  pushed  at  every  given  chance  ,  DETERMINED   some  would  say  .��  but  me  ?   i  would  say  ,  you’re  your  father’s  son  .    a  spitting  image  right  down  to  curly  locks  and  a  crooked  smile  .    that  assertiveness   in  your  heart  ?   it  was  gifted  by  masculine  hands  that  had  once  fought  the  WAR  of  the  streets               a  never  ending  battle  for  dominance  between  gang  violence  and  a  mother  that  had  a  sadness  so  great  she  spent  her  days  forgetting  her  own  name   .    it’s  okay  ,  i  know  you  didn’t  know  .  and  he  was  never  around  to  ask  ,   the  office  was  his  home  and  the  building  were  family  pictures  clung  to  the  walls  was  the  stranger  .  but   he  did  love  you  ,  affection  shown  in  the  form  of  absence  so  you’d  never  know  what  it  is  like  to  merely  survive  .   

and  i  know  you  want  them  ,     ANSWERS  ,  i  mean  .  but  when  you  ask  me  about  your  mother  ,  i  don’t  have  anything  you’ll  want  to  hear  .    your  first  words   ,  were  mama  ,  but  it  was  not  mama  who  was  there  to  witness  it  .                          that’s  the  reality  of  your  relationship  with  her  .   and   i  know  you’re  still  ANGRY  .   her  absence  was  willingly  ,   and  i  know  you  have  a  hard  time  FORGIVING  especially  when  it  comes  to  her  .   but  truth  is  ,  she  never  wanted  to  be  someone’s  mother  ,   and  it  made  her  feel  guilty  .    she  had  plans  .   and  all  of  them  consisted  of  tan  lines  and  gossip  over  wine  ,  none  of  them  included  your  sweet  whispers  of  i  love  you  .    but  her  not  wanting  to  be  a  mother  doesn’t  make  her  a  bad  person  ,  she  was  once  present  .   she  once  tried  .  and  i  don’t  mean  to  make  excuses  ,  NOTHING  could  excuse  it  .  but  she  knew  .  she  knew  she  could  never  be  what  you  needed  her  to  be  ,  so  she  ran  from  it  and  you   .  could  not  deal  with  how  badly  it  ate  at  her  .  and when  she  got  pregnant  a  second  time   and  your  baby  brother  came  11  months  after  you  ,  she  told  herself  that  it  was  for  YOU  .   that  if  she  could  give  you  one  thing  that  was  worth  anything  ,  it  was  someone  to  keep  you  company  .   it  was  IRRESPONSIBLE,   but  you  know  a  lot  about  that  ,  don’t  you  ?  that  wasn’t  a  jab  .  just  a  reminder  of  the  many  situations  where  your  good  intentions  came  back  to  bite  you  .   that  doesn’t  change  the  fact  that  i’m  sorry  ,  i’m  sorry  she  was  never  there  .  

your  baby  brother  ,      he  was  a  GIFT  .    i  know  you  know  that  .  he  was  more  then  company  ,  wasn’t  he  ?   you  guys  shared  BLOOD  but  it  was  not  just  blood  that  bonded  you   .  IRISH  TWINS  ,     that’s  the  official  term  .   siblings  born  less  than  12  months  apart  .   and  when  you  were  little  ,  that’s  what  everyone  referred  to  the  two  of  you  as  .  twins                     you   were  never  the  type  of  person  to believe  in  cheesy  things  such  as  soulmates  .  when  girls  would  intertwine  their  fingers  with  yours  and  purr  how  the  two  of  you  were  meant  to  be  together  ,  you  had  to  hold  back  laughter  .   but  the  older  you  got  ,  the  more  you  began  to  realize  that  you  and  dustin  ?  you  guys  split  from  the  same  soul  .   it  was  the  day  you  also  realized  that  soulmates  aren’t  just  the  romantic  cliche  in  the  movies  you  grew  up  believing  them  to  be  .   you  couldn’t  help  but  felt  guilty  ,    for  once  belittling  someone  for  believing  in  it  .  because  you  swore  ,  that  everyone  deserve  to  have  a  bond  like  you  and  your  brother  .  

your  nanny  ,      she  was  in  for  it   .   chasing  two  boys  around  the  house  who  could  run  before  they  could  walk  .    close  your  eyes  and  REMEMBER  it  ,    the  way  yous  once  laughed  with  one  another  .     mornings  with  syrup  dripping  on  your  chins  .    wrestling  in  the  living  room  despite  the  warning  from  miss  bailey  that  one  of  you  will  get  hurt  (  which  one  of  you  always  did  )  .    outsiders  might  say  you  two  brought  out  the  worst  in  each  other  (  mrs.  burke  did  when  she  refused  to  have  the  both  of  you  in  her  class  )  ,   but  anyone  who  really  knew  you  knew  how  good  for  each  other  you  were  .   mischievous  ,  but  aren’t  that  what  brothers  for  ?  built  in  partner  in  crimes  ?   best  friends  for  life  .  you  guys  were   inseparable  ,  so  inseparable  that  by  the  end  of  secondary  school   it  was  granted  that  you  were  put  in  different  classes  to  allow  room  for  others  .   you  DIDN’T  mind  ,   even  if  you  did  declare  how  idiotic  it  was  to  your  mother  over  the  phone  .    you  had  friends  .   a  lot  of  friends  .  but  friends  that  were  just  your  friends  ?  that  was  new  .   and  you  never  really  knew  how  to  feel  about  it  .  

high  school  ,       it  changed  your  life  .   i  know  you’ll  say  for  the  worst  ,  but  please  don’t  forget  about  all  of  the  good  that  came  out  of  it  .   the  teachers  ?  they  were  stuck  between  loving  and  hating  you  .   and  some  ?  didn’t  get  a  chance  to  do  either  with  how  much  you  skipped  their  class  .   you  kept  your  grades  up  only  to  continue  playing  hockey                    grades  were  the  only  thing  that  your  dad  actually  checked  .    you  enjoyed  the  social  scene  ,  and  by  social  scene  i  mean  getting  too  drunk  at  house  parties  and  being  rowdy  in  the  bleachers  .    when  you  looked  to  your  right  ,   you  had  a  whole  CREW  of  friends  who  somehow  stumbled  into  your  life  .  and  when  you  looked  to  your  left  ,  you  had  your  brother  .     you  sought  out  EXCITEMENT  ,   anything  to  get  your  heart  racing  .    you  were  IMPULSIVE  .   you  took  your  injustice  out  by  developing  a  CANTANKEROUS  attitude  that  got  you  into  fights  left  and  right  (  on  and  off  the  ice  )  .     high  school  is  when  you  got  your  first  job  ,  sixteen  and  tired  of  hearing  your  father  complain  about  you  needing  more  responsibility                        of  course  this  had  been  after  you  and  your  brother  got  caught  smoking    .    your  legs  landed  you  at   rainbow  point    with  a  confident  grin  and  TROUBLE  in  your  eyes  .  

BECAUSE  EVERYTHING  I  DO  FEELS  LIKE  NOTHING   

it  was  good  ,   you  struggled  but  you  were  happy  .    my  CARELESS  child  with  light  dancing  around  you  .   you  couldn’t  be  touched  ,  you  were  immortal  .   it  reflected  in  your  actions  ,  teenagers  huh  ?   but  we  all  know  there  can’t  be  good  without  the  bad  ,  and  for  you  i  wish  the  bad  had  been  a  broken  ankle  or  failed  SAT’S  .  but  it  wasn’t  .    the  bad  was  ripping  you  to  pieces  ,   beyond  repair  .    i  know  it  haunts  you  ,  the  accident    .   the  realization  when  you’re  eyes  focused  on  the  road  and  saw  a  blue  truck  headed  towards  you  ,  you  hate  the  color  blue  .   you  forgot  too  ,  that  dustin  had  taken  off  his  seat  belt  to  retrieve  the  phone  you  knocked  out  of  his  hands  because  he  was  getting  on   your  nerves  .    it  only  hitting  you  when  hues  opened  back  up  and  a  gaping  hole  the  size  of  a  body  remained  .    you  still  don’t  understand  how  it  could  be  ,  that  you  had  absolutely  no  scratches  .  but  your  brother  ?  he  no  longer  had  air  in  his  lungs  .

you’re  lost    ,     you  want  to  sob  like  a  child  with  hands  wrapped  around  you  whispering  it’s  going  to  be  okay  .    but  it  won’t  be  .      and  you  never  realized  how  lonely  your  house  was  ,  and  how  distant  your  parents  were  .    now  your  home  town  reminds  you  of  secrets  whispered  in  the  dark  and  talks  about  the  future  that  no  longer  exists  for  your  brother  .   you  left  after  that  summer   ,   in  the  beginning  you  missed  holidays  because  you  couldn’t  bare  the  sight  of  an  untouched  room  .  and  that  empty  seat  right  beside  you  dug  it’s  claws  into  your  chest  until  you  could  no  longer  breathe  .    you  HATE  your  home  town  ,  and  the  house  you  grew  up  in  .  and  if  you  could  choose  ,  you’d  never  go  back  .  so  why  do  you  ?   it’s  because  of  the  missed  calls  on  your  phone  from  the  ones  you  call  friends  .  you  feel  OBLIGATED  .   it’s  one  of  the  only  emotions  you  feel  ,  besides  guilt  and   grief    .   you  really  do  try  ,  to  move  on  .  to  feel  more  .  but  it’s  hard  for  you   .  so  you  hide  behind  spontaneous  adventures   and  the  bottom  of  a  whiskey  bottle  .    you  flash  pearly  whites  and  roll  around  in  sheets  with  women  you  could  never  love  like  they  love  you  .    you  ink  your  body  with  permanent  ink  because  it’s  the  only  permanent  thing  you’ll  ever  have  .    you  have  to  remind  yourself  that  you’re  alive  ,  you’re  alive  because  sometimes  you  forget  .   but  what’ll  you  never  forget  ?  is  that   ,  you  did  this                     that  reality  hits  you  when  you’re  at  your  weakest  .  it’s  the  one  that  screams  at  you  until  tears  hang  in  honeyed  hues  and  just  healed  wounds  are  ripped  open   by  your  favorite  punching  bag              the  mirror  .   but  that’s  okay  ,  isn’t  it  ?   because  when  the  sun  rises  ,  you’ll  go  out  and  replace  it   .     and  you’ll  pretend  that  you’re  fine  .  

#rainbowintro #tw: mention of car accident #tw: mention of addiction #if i missed any triggers please let me know #a connections page will be up soon !!

[rkseung]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS HEADCANON !

` * APHRODITE: laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, thrives on attention, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, your boyfriend/girlfriend thinks they’re attractive, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger

` * APOLLO: glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of Wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a Tinder account

` * ARES: armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell may have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath

` * ARTEMIS: keen senses of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting its target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling

` * ATHENA: discerning gaze, unreadable face, the patience of a life-long teacher, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the Sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, go-getter, balls of wool displayed on shelves, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes  

` * DEMETER: soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the Mom friend, can lift you and all of your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air

` * DIONYSUS: drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause

` * HEPHAESTUS: the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted by blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles

` * HERA: resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain,loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the Sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and Netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold

` * HERMES: devil-may-care smile, ink-stained hands, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes Red Bull with coffee, menace on April fool’s, hoodies and sneakers

` * POSEIDON: storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, the sea casting its spell, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for DIY projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow

` * ZEUS: thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma,eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, pretends that they don’t have feelings but they do, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with apparent ease, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers, expensive watch, like a boss

#✽ – whatever i'm getting cheese fries. #she is zeus #took this from forever ago

[apostlc-a]

Hc prompt;; Do you have an end game canon for Miles? I know he’s scared that Mara is eventually going to overtake him and they’ll either merge to the point that they just are. Or that he won’t be behind the wheel at all anymore and will effectively cease to exist or that he’s physically not gonna be able to endure being a host for forever, that eventually the strain either physical mental or emotional or all of is gonna do him in…. But what do you think is gonna happen? What are the end days going to look like for him? For any partners he doesn’t manage to scare off or run from before the end? I know Miles does not get a happy ending and that whatever the answer is gonna be it’s gonna hurt but I’m ready. Hit me with it Mulli.

random asks | always accepting | @themechaneer

First off, for all that don't know: going for an "end game" was the original game plan when I made Miles five years ago. I tend to lose interest in muses after a couple months so my intention was to make his mental state gradually worse and worse, until I realized that this one would not go anywhere and then kind of ... not quite freeze it there, it's still happening as my blog progresses, but far far slower.

There are several potential outcomes, I already briefly talked about them in private, but there are:

1) LACK OF CONTROL / OBLIVION / THE ETERNAL DREAM. The obvious one, the one he dreads, where the Walrider consumes him in one way or another. He already loses parts of his memory, both recent from Them taking over (which is less forgetting and more just having blind spots) but also older ones. He doesn't remember what his father looked like, and pieces of his childhood are missing, and those are going to become more and more. There's also just the terror of not waking up again; something that has him dreading sleep. Not because They only take control from him when he's sleeping, of course, but the idea of just never walking up again while something else uses your body is terrifying again, and since it already happened for days and weeks at a time (though never as bad as immediately after the asylum where he was drowned out for nearly four months), it's a very intimate fear. Of course, he doesn't know how exactly that happens; if he will simply sleep forever, or cease to exist, but he assumes that something will remain. In my blog canon, something of everything the swarm consumes remains, and hosts of course more than a simple feast for the longer and deeper connection. He does, however, not know if it's actually a remain of the person themselves or simply an echo, and he doesn't know which of all these options he fears most. It would be a mix of both; some small piece remaining but the rest simply... like someone copying you after knowing you very, very well. Impossible to tell from the outside. That one is a slow death; and one that would be very terrifying to watch. Imagine dementia, only coupled with murderous intent and the knowledge that when they die, it will spread to someone else; but that this new person still holds onto the corpse of your lover and never letting them know peace.

2) THE VIOLENT DEATH; THE PASSING ON. Now, one could argue that this one would be merciful; that it comes sudden and without the horror of losing your mind and your sanity and being aware of it, however, there is one subform of it that makes it not that much less terrifying, and that is Val (and whatever new followers she might gain) and whatever the end goal with Blake's impossible child is; something she sees as the Antichrist and the vessel for her God. Religions, especially ones that deal with things such as these, are often filled with violent rituals, and there is very little reason to believe that, should they find this child and deem it fit for hosting the Walrider, that they will simply wait for it to be passed on. There needs to be a literal passing on; there needs to be a rite. There needs to be something definite: something symbolic. Like literally carving out his heart out of his chest; and maybe let the new vessel feed on it — cannibalism is hardly something that pagan religions would bat their eyes on, especially in a case like this where it would be to consume the old to gain divinity. They haven't talked about it. But he knows it's an option that's in the room.

(There's a third option, of course: the MARTRIYUM / CIRCLE, but that would include both him making the decision to lock himself up with that thing and give up on whatever life he has left to keep it from finding a new host, which he is not willing to do, too selfish for it, and also the impossible task of finding something that both contains them, is void of other life they could possess, and that they don't know beforehand of. It's not going to happen, but I like to add it for the implication: imagine being locked in your final days with an angry elder god that has no escape and nothing to do but to pick you apart and put you back anew for the rest of potentially eternity.)

#themechaneer #ask to tag #[ † ] ;; YOUR BLOOD IS INK AND YOUR LIFE RUNS IN PICTURES. (headcanon.) #[ † ] ;; YOU HAVE [1] UNREAD EMAIL. (asks.) #inflicts psychic damage on the dash ♥

[upshuring]

please explain his hairspray 🙋‍♀️

headcanons | always accepting | listen if you thought for one second I’d not reply with half a book on this —

First of all, bold of you to assume it is just hairspray and not the entire hair department of a drug store. He's incredibly vain and it takes him on average about two hours and thirteen minutes to look like he doesn't care at all, and is a very complicated matter that he takes very serious and will only skip if it's absolutely time sensitive for him to appear somewhere without warning (not uncommon as a journalist, but it usually drags his mood down immensely and can only be fixed by giving him lots of attention and coffee regardless, like a caffeine addicted regal cat), which are the only times he will ever cover them up (usually with a beanie to give it the impression that the wild look of it is somewhat on purpose), no matter how cold it is outside and how appropriate it would be. He has and will cancel on people over bad hair days.

If asked, he would genuinely not remember when or why he started with his routine becoming more and more over the top, although his older sister Marie would recall a fifteen year old not even with a crush, but annoyance over the fact of all the girls in his math class gushing over certain other boys, entirely envious of the attention. He's always been bad with that; the middle child that would do anything to stand out against his sisters, the serious and smart older one and the artsy younger favorite. (He loves them both very dearly.) It started his trouble seeking tendencies early and only made them far worse over age instead of growing out of them, and since good looks and charm open every door aside from those only money can unlock, he's been putting in a lot of work in either. (There is some subtle makeup too, because why wouldn't he.)

(Almost ironic then that he would chose a profession later where people knowing your name is unhelpful rather than not.)

Besides — it's not like he works a desk job. While it is vanity in it's core and utmost, it also requires more and stronger stuff to keep up with his constantly on the go hyperactive energy than it would if he'd just sit at a computer for eight hours every day. You never know when you're going to parkour through half a city, or end up sucking someone off in the backroom of a party to rejoin right away (or crawl through an asylum where everyone wants to kill you); and what you have to do afterwards. On a plus side, that also means that on the not rare occasions he simply doesn't go to sleep for over fifty hours or more he will still look barely tired.

(But I know damn well you're talking about the emo hair, and he does not acknowledge that phase ever happened. It did not.)

((Marie has pictures of it and will absolutely share these with anyone asking.))

#alicemarion #[ † ] ;; YOU HAVE [1] UNREAD EMAIL. (asks.) #[ † ] ;; YOUR BLOOD IS INK AND YOUR LIFE RUNS IN PICTURES. (headcanon.) #aNYWAY - #that was the most important ask i have ever received in my life thank you

[godworn]

A MORE OR LESS COMPREHENSIVE LIST OF EFFECTS OF HOSTING THE SWARM / PROJECT WALR.IDER.

- ENHANCED HEALING. Misleading: the swarm patches up wounds far quicker and also such that would normally be lethal, but they don't exactly heal in the common sense but instead shift mass around. If there is no outward food source to restore the resources left, then it might entail several smaller wounds instead. This ability can be passed on temporarily by moving a part of the swarm to another's bloodstream; the process of this healing is extremely painful. As the host is also stabilized by the swarm, spreading it too thin is not a state that can be maintained for long.

- SHARED POSSESSION. As mentioned, a section of the swarm can be temporarily passed onto multiple hosts without long term changes to them. This happens at times automatically; while the majority of the swarm is concentrated within and around the host, some will always move freely. By entering another organism, they can communicate with them, order them to do certain actions, and extract information from them, including their thoughts and dreams. The effect is limited by how spread out they are, how far from the host, and how intact the victim's anterior insular cortex area (the empathic center), as the swarm needs this to connect with a host. It is not limited to human beings, but is found to work best with them. The swarm has also been seen using ants before.

- INTERFERENCE. Due to the swarm being partially bound to robotic nanites and mainly interacting with both it's host and it's surroundings via electron manipulation, it is able to disrupt, distort or destroy any electronic device near them. This also makes it vulnerable to the effects of an EMP, although it is a temporary effect and tends to be mostly effective in making it far more hostile after.

- CANNIBALISM. Misleading: the host does not engage in cannibalism, but the swarm is carnivorous and prefers living human meat. It also replenishes the resources needed for healing.

- PARASITIC SYMBIOSIS. The swarm also slowly consumes the host as well as rewriting them from the inside. While the majority is concentrated within the bloodstream, they also eat themselves holes into organs and bones, keeping it functional only by their presence. Some organs lose all function and are instead replaced by the swarm taking those. It is also at any given time capable of taking control of their host's actions. It also shows from the outside in the form of black lines moving under the skin, not unlike blood poisoning.

- BLOOD CHANGE. The host's blood appears much like a ferromagnetic fluid, and is brimming with black metallic nanites.

- MEMORY LOSS. By rewiring the synapses in the brain, memories are being lost.

- PERCEPTION CHANGE. This comes partly from the swarm spreading and taking additional smaller hosts; which means one can be aware of things outside their own range, but there's also a shift in how the eyes work. Ultraviolet light can be seen, movement is easier to distinguish than unmoving objects. Depth perception changes and results in the world often being too 'sharp'. Hypersensitivity on all senses, on some days to the extend of paralyzing pain.

- AGGRESSION. Sudden bursts of aggressive behavior, not always with a trigger, down to murderous intent at occasion. This mostly affects people unable to connect properly to the swarm, but is seen to a lesser extent within the host.

- CYCLING. Due to the nature of the swarm, it can only leave a place in the same way it came in, and that includes the host — in Miles' case, via the bullet wounds in his chest which means they are in a constant cycle of healing and reopening to keep an exit open for the swarm.

- LOWER BODY TEMPERATURE. This is basically a walking corpse.

- RESTLESSNESS. There's no need to sleep as often as a normal person anymore; usually it's two to three days awake to five hour sleep spells.

#nvm i wrote it anyway. #i probably forgot some bc its as i said A LOT so i will keep adding to this list. #[ † ] ;; YOUR BLOOD IS INK AND YOUR LIFE RUNS IN PICTURES. (headcanon.) #ask to tag.

[eenefangirlanalysis]

Next Eddy wanders the halls with the cul-de-sac kids as Kevin is telling a story about bribing a teacher from one of his classes. 

I love this KevEddy screenshot. They’d make good friends. 

Eddy is still quiet nervous. He’s never been used to close physical contact. 

I noticed at the end of Big Picture Show in a little background scene where the kids are congratulating the Eds, Kevin is seen very close to Eddy. He’s always wanted to be friends with Eddy. My headcanon is that Kevin is jealous of Eddy. No there is no need to be. They can be friends.

Oh! Can I caption this screenshot?

Eddy: Yup, living the good life.

Ever since I’ve started analyzing Ed, Edd n Eddy I’ve respected the cul-de-sac kids friendship more. They’re all different, but they’ve made their own group too. It’s implied that they’re also outcasts. They’re the only kids who ever seen throughout the school episodes. Although other kids and adults are invisible. They don’t matter to the Eds story. This is the only group of people who the Eds wants to befriend. 

Kevin’s story was:  "No, really! So then I smooth the teacher over, give him props on his toupee, and the guy gives me a B on the quiz! I swear!"

And everyone collapses into laughter.

Should Eddy find this funny?

He nervously laughs it off and remarks to Kevin that he is a funny guy.

While taking a drink of water Eddy notices something horrifying.

Eddy’s name has been x’d out in red ink and now Carl is a no neck chump!

The kids are laughing... at him?

Or Kevin’s story?

This scene makes me think of a Carrie, a famous Stephen King movie.

Carrie is dumped in pigs blood. 

And the crowd of prom goers and teachers start laughing at her. But, are they? They may only be laughing in Carrie’s mind who is quite hysterical at this point.

I believe the kids are still laughing at Kevin’s joke and haven’t even noticed the insult written on the wall.

This is an excellent example of a point of view moment from Eddy. He has anxiety. He’s never trusted anyone, including his own friends.

Eddy backs up against a wall in horror.

Nazz kindly asks if ‘Carl’ is okay. She does not see the insult written on the wall.

Poor Eddy!

I also headcanon that Eddy is an emotional person. He’s not open about it. Bro chewed him out for it and now he has to keep his emotions closely guarded which sustains him from a healthy relationship with his friends. He hates crying. 

Crying does not make you look weak. It’s a sign that you’ve been strong for a long time and need to let your emotions free. 

Eddy runs off much to the kids dismay who don’t want him to leave.

You know what I just noticed? ROLF IS NOT PRESENT! He never witnessed Eddy get caught in the act. He has never understood the kids friendship along with why he has to be invited to so many little events. 

#ed edd n eddy #eene #Pick an Ed #Eddy Appreciation Month #Eddy #Kevin #Sarah #Jimmy #Jonny #Nazz #Rolf #KevEddy #eene analysis #Carrie #ed edd n eddy big picture show #Cul-de-sac kids

[seungcheolrk]

HEADCANON: OLYMPIANS AESTHETICS !

` * APHRODITE ( 3 )

laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, thrives on attention, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, your boyfriend/girlfriend thinks they’re attractive, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger

` * APOLLO ( 6 )

glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of Wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps (nearly) naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a Tinder account

` * ARES ( 5 )

armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell may have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath

` * ARTEMIS ( 2 )

keen senses of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting its target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling

` * ATHENA ( 2 )

discerning gaze, unreadable face, the patience of a life-long teacher, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the Sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, go-getter, balls of wool displayed on shelves, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes

` * DEMETER ( 4 )

soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the Mom friend, can lift you and all of your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air

` * DIONYSUS ( 3 )

drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause

` * HEPHAESTUS ( 3 )

the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted by blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles

` * HERA ( 1 )

resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the Sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and Netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold

` * HERMES ( 5 )

devil-may-care smile, ink-stained hands, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes Red Bull with coffee, menace on April fool’s, hoodies and sneakers

` * POSEIDON ( 3 )

storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, the sea casting its spell, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for DIY projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow

` * ZEUS ( 6 )

thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, pretends that they don’t have feelings but they do, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with apparent ease, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers, expensive watch, like a boss

#cheol;hc #( kept forgetting to do this on cheol whilst logged into him so! little late to the party but better late than never jasdkfs )

[rkkyularch]

OLYMPIAN AESTHETICS  HEADCANON !

` * APHRODITE: laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, thrives on attention, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, your boyfriend/girlfriend thinks they’re attractive, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger

` * APOLLO: glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold,neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of Wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a Tinder account

` * ARES: armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell may have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath

` * ARTEMIS: keen senses of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting its target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling

` * ATHENA: discerning gaze, unreadable face, the patience of a life-long teacher, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the Sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, go-getter, balls of wool displayed on shelves, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils,abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes  

` * DEMETER: soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the Mom friend, can lift you and all of your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air

` * DIONYSUS: drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause

` * HEPHAESTUS: the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted by blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles

` * HERA: resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain,loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the Sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, files that under fuck it, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and Netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold

` * HERMES: devil-may-care smile, ink-stained hands, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes Red Bull with coffee, menace on April fool’s, hoodies and sneakers

` * POSEIDON: storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, the sea casting its spell, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for DIY projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow

` * ZEUS: thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma,eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, pretends that they don’t have feelings but they do, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with apparent ease, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers,expensive watch, like a boss

#( && ~ whatever i'm getting cheese fries. #i loved this #she is in no way #hephaestus #lmao